Author's Note: So I realize that you guys are probably wondering where Pepper's been. Feel like she's sort of fallen off to the background lately, huh? Don't worry. Pepper's key to the story and this withdrawal – pardon the bad pun – is intentional. She'll be front and center again before the story is over. Enjoy and please review!

"You're sulking." Carol accused from her position sitting cross-legged on the other bed.

Rhodey barely glanced up, his mind and hands busy setting up the necessary connections between the two databases that had just finished uploading to his laptop. He could practically feel the scripts of code scrolling across his eyes as well as the screen.

"I'm not."

"You are." She insisted. "You're pulling a Tony Stark, and I gotta tell you, I don't like it. Actually, I think I kind of hate it. One of him is enough."

This time he looked sharply up from the screen. He was tired in every way it was possible to be, and there was still a lot of work to do. How could he focus when all she did was nag him about topics he didn't want to talk about at all? Not for the first time, Rhodey thought twice about his insistence that she stay in his hotel room.

Out of security reasons, of course.

"And I think I'm tired of hearing that name. Dead or alive, I'd like to go for ten minutes not saying it. He thinks the universe revolves around him as it is."

The best way he could think to describe the look on Carol's face at that moment was enigmatic. A small, subtle tilt of the head, lips pressed tightly together, eyes just a bit squinted. Despite himself, Rhodey swallowed hard.

"Sorry." Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. "I forgot men's fragile egos bruise easily when women talk to them about other men. Even when one of them is practically family, and the other keeps reminding me that he's my former commanding officer."

Okay, he felt like an ass.

Rhodey pinched the bridge of his nose, pressed the run button, and closed the laptop.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just… tired. I don't know how to balance out him and this." He waved a hand at the computer. "This is going to blow up, Carol. We don't have to wait for the results of this comparison to know that, and when it does… I don't even want to begin to think how I'm going to explain it to the military. And there's S.I. and Stane and Tony…"

Everything was running together in his head, so much so that he barely noticed her get up and make her way to his bed. She crouch behind him, reaching out to wrap her arms around his shoulders so that her front pressed against his back. Rhodey found it wonderfully distracting. Carol rested her chin on his shoulder.

"It's going to work out." She whispered. "We're going to put together the evidence, arrest Stane and everyone else involved just in time for Tony to take the reins again. It'll be good. A fresh start."

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, and reached out to clasp her hands. "When did you become such an optimist?"

"Survival trait." Carol replied a bit wryly. "Besides, one of my brothers just came back from the dead. I'd say I'm entitled to a little optimism."

"Yeah." His larger hand absently rubbed hers.

And because the universe apparently hated them both, the computer pinged, announcing the end of the program run.

The phone rang a split second later.

Tony was bored.

That was never a good thing, especially when he was stuck in a small hospital room with nothing but his own thoughts to occupy his time. Pepper and Carol spent as much time as possible with him, but it was late Sunday evening now. The storm had finally let up, which meant Pepper had to be at the Tower the next morning, and Carol said something about needing to work with Rhodey for a while.

So he was left alone to listen to the dripping IV and other sounds of the city from outside. Dr. Blake came to check on him one last time before disappearing to wherever he slept. The doctor smiled and went through all the usual checks and notes.

"Any better today?" he asked.

"A little." Tony shrugged. "The girls came by so there was some distractions. And my head isn't pounding quite as hard, so that's good, I guess."

"Very good," Blake agreed. "With any luck, I think we can get you out of here by Thursday."

Tony made a face. "That's a whole week!"

"I think you grossly underestimate the amount of damage you did to your body." Blake frowned. "I can't make you stay, of course, but I can – and will – get a hold of Captain Danvers. She told me to call if you complained."

"Ridiculous. I'm not five." But he knew he was dangerously close to whining. Tony straightened a little, changing the subject. "Speaking of which, what's your story, anyway, Doc?"

"Story?" He shrugged. "No story. I'm from New York originally. Wanted some place quieter so I moved to Oklahoma a few years ago. I'm not really sure what you'd like to know."

Everything. "Well," Tony leaned back against the pillows. "For starters, I have one really very important question."

"Oh?" The blond man raised a brown.

"Are you even out of med school yet. I mean, no offense, but seriously; what are you, like, twenty-five?"

"I'm... older than I look." The doctor laughed. "And yes, I'm fully licensed. I'd be happy to show you my credentials, if you like."

"Nah, it's fine." Tony waved a hand dismissively. "Carol trusts you, so that's good enough for me. This isn't even withdrawal talking, Doc. Just boredom."

Blake nodded sympathetically, then looked around the room and slowly made his way to the visitor's chair, sinking down with a slight wince that he tried to hide. Tony frowned a little.

"Is it the leg?"

"It's nothing serious." The other man assured him, but he could still see the tension on his face. "I've been on it a little too long. It's been a busy day here. They asked me to step into the O.R. twice. I'm just a visiting physician, but... well, things happen, and an extra pair of hands was needed."

And you're the kind of guy who would spend hours on your feet in the O.R. even when you have trouble walking down the hall to get to the bathroom, Tony thought.

"Is there anything you can do about it?" he asked aloud instead, nodding at the man's lame leg and walking stick that rested beside the chair.

"Birth defect." Blake shook his head. "Believe me, I would have figured out something by now, if I could. It's not that bad. I even managed to hike a few trails in Norway on it."

"Really?" Tony was impressed.

"Yeah. I was there on vacation right after I finished medical school." The doctor recalled. "Just wanted to get away for a while, spend a little quite time by myself, before the life of a full time doctor really took over."

"How was it?" Some of his business trips might have taken him to Scandinavia, but Tony honestly couldn't remember. He had a hard time remembering anything but the inside of boardrooms that all blurred together.

"Amazing," Blake smiled. "Life changing."

"Huh. Well, soon as I get out of here, I'll be sure to call my travel agent... Doc?"

But the other man didn't look like he was listening anymore. He was looking out the small window of the hospital room door and into the hallway. From his vantage point on the bed, Tony couldn't see anything, but the deep frown on the doctor's face was a clear indication that something was wrong. The blond man pushed himself up to his feet and picked up his cane.

"Stay here," he said seriously.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know yet. Stay here."

The second the door shut behind him, Tony pushed back the covers and holding on to drip, rolled it along with him as he peered through the window on the door. For a long moment he couldn't see anything, but suddenly there was shouting, and he saw the doctor go flying through the corridor past his room.

"Blake!"

He practically tore the IV needle out of his arm and raced into the hallway. The other man was on the ground, grimacing in pain and reaching for his walking stick that lay only a foot away. Tony had no idea how it got there, and before he could run to retrieve it for him, a solid kick to his chest knocked the wind out of him and send him sprawling to the floor as well. It took him a minute to regain some minimal orientation and look up at their assailants.

There were men in dressed in black, Tony saw, their faces covered in masks. At least five, but there could have been more for all he knew. His attention was more focused on the gun pointed at him and the boot that pushed him back down whenever he tried to rise.

"Don't move, Stark." The gruff voice advised.

"Wouldn't dream of it." From the corner of his vision, he saw the two more men aim their weapons at Blake, who persistently kept reaching for his cane.

They're going to kill him, Tony realized in horror. They're going to kill him just because he's helping me.

Without thinking he pushed his body forward, somehow managing to kick at the attacker and knock him off balance. The two near Blake looked up momentarily when their companion fell, and it gave the doctor the window to finally reach his objective. His hand closed around the cane just as the butt of a gun struck Tony's temple. Blake struggled to his feet as the others approached.

"Sorry." The younger man's face was full of determination. "I didn't want to have to do this."

The last thing Tony saw before he blacked out was the wood strike the ground.

The last thing he heard was a rumble of thunder.