Author's Note: And closely but surely we're creeping closer to the end of this thing. Time for some Psychonauts style therapy next chapter and some back ground building circa this chapter. (I'd put up a warning for slash, but if a one sided crush mentioned referenced in a character's past was enough to offend you, you wouldn't have made it through this fic this far.)

You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you do not trust enough. - Frank Crane

I lie here paralytic inside this soul, screaming for you till my throat is numb. I wanna break out, I need a way out, I don't believe that it's gotta be this way. – Rebirth by Skillet

Breathe in, breathe out.

Very slowly, very deliberately, become still. Let absolutely nothing be an accident. Every thought, every movement, each breath was controlled. Gene inhaled again, feeling the cold morning air enter him like a glass of water. He could feel the denim of his jeans press against his knees as he sat with his legs folded on the cool concrete. If he focused he could feel the crack in the concrete underneath him. If he focused on the sounds around him he could hear the birds and animals in the world around him, moving and stirring in the early dawn light. There was still life here, in spite of it all, though at this hour even the birds were not yet truly active. Give them a few minutes, however, and they would come alive with sound and movement. Gene inhaled deeply the scent of the frost covered world he was in, and felt his mind slowly begin to unfold like a flower before him. He was at peace.

On one side of the building there was a windowsill that, if one were exceptionally stupid or remarkably agile, could be stood on for long enough to reach up and grasp the underside of the metal fire escape. Provided you had no fear of heights whatsoever and good enough muscles, it was possible to climb up the underside to the third floor, where holding on to another ledge and using only your arms might enable you to move off to the side. There, on the corner of the building, there was a concrete platform. It was part of the outcropping used to shield all the doors from rain, and extended precisely five feet out in all directions. Granted no one else ever had the muscle strength to get up there, but it had been the key element in many a prankster's plan. When the building had been crammed full many a plan hinged on the outcropping. Water balloons, one student had sighed wistfully, looking at how it stood over the back road of the school, would work miracles here. Truly, incredible pranks could've been pulled off from that spot.

Unfortunately, Temugin had known better than to deliberately make trouble. And there were only two people capable of climbing like that who had ever attended in this school: Temugin Khan and Ai Li. Gene was capable of such a feat due to years of martial arts training, strict diet and the nature of the bullies he faced at this school. Ai had been capable of it due to sheer desperation and need. They had spent a large chunk of their childhoods up on this ledge, terrified of the world down below. This was the place that Temugin had spent years trapped in, the boarding school from Hell, the place Zhang had sent him just to get rid of him. He had been here so often in the past that he could still navigate the place without ever glancing at a map. This was Gene's old prison, and it was here that he fled now when he needed to get away from humanity as a whole. Here there were no students anymore, no humans at all, not even the homeless. The boarding school was too far out in the countryside for that. Here there was only nature and concrete and Temugin could try to sort out what was going on in his own mind for a while.

Once he had run through the halls of this building with Ai en tow, and breathless with excitement and fear they had climbed the stone ledges and windowsills until they were safe. Laying back breathless, full of adrenaline and terrified, their hearts pounding in their ears, they would laugh in that insane way people did when they'd just nearly died. Once, when he was nine years old, he had kissed one of his roommates on the mouth on a dare and had never lived it down for the rest of his years here. (It was on that day Gene Khan swore off of truth or dare for life and declared Americans idiots for coming up with it and spreading it to his home country.) Once when he was ten he had gotten his ass kicked by a group of bullies a year old than him and had only been spared further injury by a fellow Mongolian-Chinese mixed boy intervening. Gene could recall the way he'd felt then, indignant and grateful, happy and furious all at once. Once he had partaken in a food fight that got his entire year forced into cleaning duties that were so intense you'd have thought he'd blown the place up.

Gene had mixed feelings about this place, about the people who he'd spent his childhood with. Ai Li was dead, having been beaten and murdered by a boy two years older than her. It was hard to suppress the mental images. Gene had come back to his dorm and knew from the look in Jiang's eyes that something horrible had happened. His eternal roommate of three years had a stoic face, but hazel eyes that could convey whole conversations silently. Sucking in a deep breath, the Chinese boy found himself unable to focus on the present or on his meditation, drifting back to that horrible day where Temugin had lost yet another loved one. He remembered trying so hard not to cry that it hurt. He had shook in sheer emotion. He had burst like a damn, called Jiang a liar, slapped him, screamed incoherently, and it was like all the pain inside him had hit its crescendo. Then suddenly Jiang had him by the wrists and was holding Temugin back, physically and mentally. He hadn't said a word. He had simply pulled the shorter boy close into a tight embrace. They had lost their little sister. They had lost everything.

Except, that was, for each other. The quiet Jiang was Temugin's most loyal friend. Gene could never quite understand why. In the course of the six years they'd been at this hell hole of a school the Mongolian boy had yelled at, misblamed, ranted to, and accused his roommate of virtually every wrong in the book. Jiang covered for him when he had to, he helped Gene with his homework, he was always administering advice, and Gene had repaid him by being an unrepentant asshole. He had slapped the taller boy once. Jiang had simply rubbed his cheek and never mentioned it again. Why he put up with the little tyrant that he was saddled with, no one knew. Perhaps it was because Jiang had only a great grandmother awaiting him back home, all other relatives dead or in America pretending their old family didn't exist. Perhaps it was they were both inherently lonely creatures who preferred to be alone. Or maybe it was because they both really wanted friends, but knew better than to try. They weren't lonely by choice, they were lonely and set apart because they were smart. Jiang especially was good at seeing through lies; he could never be manipulated or bent to the will of the school's cliques and social hierarchy.

It was Jiang who had saved Temugin from this place. He had dropped subtle hints in Zhang's presence about the superiority of American schools, about how bilingual people would have an advantage in the business world. Temugin had watched in amazement as his soft spoken friend played Zhang like a flute, setting up the very future that had allowed the Mongolian to take his birth right. There was just something inherently persuasive about Jiang. His voice was soft and gentle, his expression eternally calm and collected. He could have made a real future for himself with the Tong if he had wanted to. Had he the desire he could have been rich. Instead he spent his time convincing Zhang that Temugin was destined for greater things than this school in the middle of nowhere. And Temugin had never even thanked him for it, never realized until now that the reason he wasn't the victim of an anti-Mongolian hate crime was Jiang.

Why do I hurt everyone who cares about me? Gene asked himself suddenly. His mother, his father, Pepper, Tony, Jiang, Ai, even Rhodes – they had all cared for him in one way or another and he had turned his back on what that meant. He had never cried for the death of his best friend, for leaving the country of his other. He had stabbed his American friends in the back and simply run away. He had never done anything to help any of them, to benefit them in kind. People kept laying down their lives for him, bearing their souls to him, and he kept using them like puppets. All these years, even in the darkest of times he had allies who would do anything for him. They had no reason to be part of his life other than sheer kindness. He repaid that kindness with hatred and callousness. Forgoing even attempting to appear like he was meditating, Gene stared at the sky with a sudden tiredness that seemed to engulf him entirely. What am I doing out here? Why am I like this?

There was some other part of him fighting to get to the surface then, some wicked part of him that said it was all worth it. Somewhere inside Gene something said to him that everyone would've betrayed him eventually and then he'd have been sorry. He would have been hurt by someone if he'd have let them all have their way. His rational side, however, was in no mood for such pessimism. Shut up, he told that part of himself, annoyed. They aren't evil. He closed his eyes, feeling a migraine coming on. They wouldn't have hurt me. And something, some voice inside of him, laughed at that. Ai had been a girl and girls were always manipulating men, weren't they? He'd seen it often among the Tong. Pepper didn't seem like that kind of girl, but she could have been, all women could have been, for all he knew about them. How many times had he been told how romance ended badly, how often had he seen one lover turn on the other for money or power? How could he possibly trust Pepper, return her feelings for him, when he could never guarantee that those feelings were real and not a plot to lower his defenses?

Jiang, he argued weakly against the voice. Tony, and Jiang. They can be trusted even if the women can't. His inner voice (demon? Subconscious? He had no clue) snickered at that. Hadn't it been, during that game of truth or dare, Jiang who had leaned over to kiss him without any hesitation, without any fear of what it would do to his reputation? Gene's mind warred with the duel notions that perhaps the other boy had been in love with him and perhaps he'd been trying to ruin Gene's reputation by making him look like a homophobe. He had never understood what that meant, why Jiang hadn't fought it or begged Gene to choose truth instead. Was it a trick? Was everything a trick? He didn't understand why it had happened. And Tony was a nightmare unto himself, so trusting and open and completely vulnerable. He was innocent and naive, a terrible liar and utterly good. But how did Gene know that wasn't a ruse, wasn't Tony's way of manipulating people? Tony had Rhodey completely at his beck and call. What if that wasn't friendship, it was deliberate and the trap had worked so well Rhodes didn't even know he'd been fooled? What if Tony was just using Gene for the Rings? What would Stark do with all the Rings if he had them? How could Gene be expected to be friends with someone who was so smart and so stupid all at once? He couldn't reconcile the boy genius and the social idiot in his head, so some of it had to be fake, and if he didn't figure out which he'd be screwed…

"Shut up," Gene whispered out loud to the nagging, pessimistic train of thought. "Shut up. That's not true. Tony wouldn't hurt me. Pepper and Jiang loved me. Ai was like my sister. You're wrong, you're lying…"

They were using him. Jiang had an in with the Tong now, he had gotten them out of China just in time for them to avoid detection or arrest. If he wanted to he could make a luxurious life for himself out of what he'd done, out of Gene. Was he really supposed to believe it was coincidence that he'd never heard from his friend again after they split ways? For all Gene knew Jiang Zhen was out there right now under an assumed name, reaping all the benefits he could off of his first well planned move. He'd always been so good at talking to people. His voice was like silk. Gene was just a convincing stepping stone, an innocent looking ploy that he could use to get Zhang interested in what the young charismatic manipulator could do. Zhang would go to him, ask him to join, and Jiang would play coy until he tricked his way into a good deal, a way out of the country or perhaps a small fortune. He was so handsome and clever, there was no telling what he could do. And no one would ever believe it because he was just a poor orphan with a single ancient relative to look after. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain, there was no way he'd just let Gene go, not when Gene was so profitable.

"Shut up!" Gene screamed, smashing his fist against the stone wall. It hurt and his skin tore open in bits, but the pain didn't silence the doubts, the uncertainty that was rising to the surface. "Shut up! You don't know anything! He wouldn't do that to me!"

Pepper's father was an FBI agent. Gene was such a perfect lead, a great way to get close to a known criminal, a member of the Tong, to regain the honor of her fallen SHIELD agent mother. She never loved him or cared about him. She used her energetic personality to throw him off guard and her quick speech patterns to confuse and disarm him. This way she could get closer and closer to him, to Zhang, but she never had to open up, only let out a steady stream of babble. She was going to leave him for dead once she had what she wanted. Gene and his step father were gateways to a good career. She didn't care about him, only what he represented, an open door into the world of law enforcement. Ever since day one she'd spent her every second trying to get him to open up and let her in on his secrets, be her friend. And why?

Because she was in league with Stark, that backstabbing, two timing monster. Stark had called in the Psychonauts on Gene. He had called in the world's finest psychics and reality warpers to rip apart his former friend. Stark wanted the Rings and Gene was the only thing standing in his way. Kill Gene, get the Rings, and then Pepper had her future career sealed and Stark was on his way to riches again. The money he could've made out of the genetic lock system on the Rings alone would be worth a large fortune. He'd been peaceful enough when they were going after the Rings together, of course, but it had all been a ruse, all been a lie, a clever little deception he couldn't stop falling for. Gene had seen it with his own eyes – Tony had been discussing plans for taking down the Mandarin with a German Psychonaut. Gene had the whole thing recorded. Concrete evidence, screamed his other voice at him angrily, that he had been betrayed and stabbed in the back.

"No." Gene shut his eyes and remembered, with all his might. He remembered laughing alongside Tony on that iceberg the Ring was on. He remembered talking to Pepper, sitting in a café and swapping stories. He remembered Jiang holding him after Ai died. Friends, he thought as his heartbeat spiraled out of control, he had friends. They weren't traitors. This wasn't what it looked like. His fists clenched and he tried to reign in his breathing to no avail. His sanity was slipping out of his control again. He tried to still himself. "No, not again, please not again. Please, don't do this to me."

It was too late. Nightmarish memories began replaying before his eyes. There were a thousand doubts swirling around in his head, in his heart, and he didn't want it to be true. He clutched his head, weaving cold fingers through his hair, shaking his head. No, no, he didn't want these thoughts. He didn't want this, living his life in fear of the people who loved him the most. Gritting his teeth and struggling to hold still, he opened his eyes to find the world around him didn't look like it should. Every inch of this place suddenly carried a horrible memory, a vicious incident he'd rather have forgotten. The good memories, running with Ai, confiding in Jiang, and climbing the building for the heck of it were replaced by the memory of Ai's frail body laying lifeless in the mud, the school bullies beating the crap out of another Yi student while Gene had watched, paralyzed with fear and deliberately refusing to save the other boy. Everything slammed into him like a hurricane. He was suddenly dizzy and exhausted, and when he tried to stand he simply tumbled off the ledge entirely.

The metal arms around him were unfamiliar, until he heard the voice. Tony. "Fuck," Gene said out loud, both annoyed at himself and his ex-friend. He didn't have enough mental strength to articulate actual sentences, so he settled for a swear word that applied to both of them. "What the hell are you doing here, Stark?"

"I have a better question," Tony retorted as he landed and his face plate drew back to reveal his face. "What are you doing at an abandoned school having a conversation with yourself at six in the morning? Gene, what's going on?" The Mongolian-Yi boy turned away, shuddering. "Gene… Temugin," he corrected himself aloud, "I talked to your grandfather, your mother's father. He told me a few things I think you should know."

"Like what?" the Mongolian snapped. "If this is some psychological trickery, forget it. You can't convince me to do anything because I'm the last Khan, not anymore. My step father played me like a fiddle with that one for years. Now it doesn't even matter to me, so don't even try it."

"Dissociative Identity Disorder runs in your family! And so does schizophrenia, for that matter! Temugin, your own mind has been fighting with you all this time and you never even asked us for help!" Tony threw up his hands in exasperation. "You can't get help if no one knows there's a problem. I'm a techno geek, not a mind reader. Although," he added quickly, "That is how I found you, for the record."

Gene shot Tony a blank look. "Dissociative identity what?" he asked, genuine confusion on his face. "Stark, what are you talking about?"

Comprehension dawned in the Westerner's eyes. "You… Gene, you don't… I mean, I guess that the next Mandarin doesn't need to know psychology very thoroughly, but…" Tony took a deep breath. "Okay, this is awkward. Let me put it this way: do you ever feel like there's a second you? A ruthless, vicious personality that doesn't hold back like you do, that crosses lines you would never cross? Does he do things you don't want to do, make you do things you'd never do otherwise? Do you ever wake up sometimes and not know what's been going on the past few days?"

The Asian boy was staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. "Tony, shut up," he said coldly, but his voice was shaky and his eyes betrayed how his friend's words were hitting home. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I do, Gene. I think there's another Gene in there and he's made your life hell. I don't think he sees it that way," Tony moved closer, slightly, slowly, as he spoke, "But all this paranoia and watching your back all the time has slowly wrecked you. And yet you're not a paranoid, nervous guy. You're pretty cool and normal. You just can't stop it when he gets in control, can you?" He reached out for Gene's hand. "Gene, you need help. This other you is dangerous. You need-"

He's trying to trick you again. He always does. He'll get your guard down, and he'll kill you in a heartbeat. It's a clever little ruse, isn't it, giving you false hopes by swooping in to save you from a fall? So perfect, no one else would ever think to save a life just to kill it late, but Stark's a genius, he's able to outwit even the last Khan…

Gene groaned, cradling his head in one hand. "Shut up. Please, Jianyu, just be quiet…" he whispered softly, not even realizing he was speaking out loud until Tony looked at him strangely. Gene froze. "I – I can explain – not what it looks like – I'm not weak, Stark!" he snarled, suddenly angry, and Tony backed up several steps on sheer instinct. "You obnoxious self righteous egotistical freak with a savior complex! You think you can dissect me like a machine? You're nothing but a traitor and a coward, a whimpering child who lost his daddy and fell to pieces! You can't trick me into surrendering the Rings to you with false pretenses of salvation and redemption – and even if you did really want to help me, what makes you think I'd surrender myself to an unstable alcoholic in the first place?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "You're not Gene."

"No. I'm a notch above him. And I'm not fooled by you, Anthony Stark. I know that deep down you're nothing but a wide eyed idealist with no place in the real world. You're weak and soft, a spoiled Westerner who doesn't understand what it's like to have to live in reality, to see blood and violence all around you, to have death on yours hands. All you know is your soft, cushy little American life where your biggest concern is what video game to get next. You are beneath me. So get out of my way before I make you get out of my way, permanently. I don't need your help and I never will." The voice carried enough blazing hatred to melt Pluto, and his eyes were devoid of all warmth. They were like snake eyes, predatory and defensive, and Tony found himself honestly intimidated. It wasn't the way Gene stood with his fists clenched and scowl fierce, it was the words he was speaking. Gene never insulted Tony's family; Gene scarcely acknowledged that people had families. It was his sore spot. Jianyu, on the other hand, was doing his best to hit Tony's weak points, to throw his past in his face. He was trying to unhinge the other boy to make him easier to defeat. Unfortunately for Jianyu, Anthony wasn't the same person he'd been last time they met.

All his life Tony had struggled with self worth, with having any kind of confidence in himself. Once he had destroyed his life and family with alcohol this issue reached new heights. For years he had lived a smiling, happy facade while inside he was filled to the brim with self hatred. He had never been able to accept that someone as smart as he was could hurt people. He had spent a lot of time avoiding facing the reality of what he'd done. So he'd tried to be like his father, and then he'd tried to self medicate with alcohol, until finally it all came crashing in in a moment of realization: his life was not over yet. Though he was not a religious man, in some strange spiritual way he believed it was his calling to save people, to help them, to stop them before they stopped themselves. Once he had realized the way he'd almost destroyed himself, it was so easy to see the self destructive tendencies in others, to have compassion for the people that the world didn't deem worthy of saving. Gene was a murderer, a liar, a thief and a criminal. He was also an orphan, an abuse survivor, a boy who had spent his entire life being picked on for being a minority and a heir to a destiny too big for any one person to grasp. His daily existence was a miserable pit of despair. Zhang had tried so hard to break Gene that Gene had broken into two people just to get through his day to day life. He had lost everything, his parents, his heritage, his family heirlooms, his home, and ultimately his future, all to a madman with a thirst for power and no humanity within him.

When all of this started, the day after Tony Stark became Iron Man, if someone had told him he'd let his father's murderer/kidnapper go, he'd have called them mad. If he'd been given the opportunity to let the man who ruined his life drop to his death the day after the accident he'd have taken it. There was a time where Tony was as blinded by guilt, hate and anger as Gene was. But the man standing before Jianyu was no longer angry. All he wanted was to stop this endless cycle of bloodshed and madness. The insults didn't hurt Tony. They only made his resolve stronger.

"Can it, Jianyu. Just because you're insecure doesn't mean the rest of the world is," Tony retorted, his faceplate falling down to cover his face again. "Now, shut up and close your eyes." He held up his hand, the Ring on it pulsing to life and glowing straight through the armor. "This is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me."

Gene was about to object, but then the Ring flashed, and everything went black.