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No copyright infringement intended...
All Movie Scenes used here belong to Marvel Studios and their respective owners, I'm not out to profit from this work.
I made it purely for enjoyment purposes.


'Do I wish I'd died?' Tony pondered on Yinsen's question. 'Dying by my own bomb would've been fitting justice for the blood on my hands. God knows I deserve it, how many people are dead because of me?'

"Fuck," Sam swore. Sam had worked for years counselling veterans with various levels of PTSD and other mental illnesses and had thought he'd gotten pretty good at recognizing the signs. 'Has he recovered since this? Or was I really that ignorant?'

With him remembering more and more from JARVIS, Vision knows Tony has had such thoughts before, but it was quite different hearing them himself. Mr Stark was akin to being his grandfather and the closest thing to family he had ever had. Their relationship had not got off to a good start and there were still times Tony could barely stand to look at him. Vision was the one who had to take the initiative in seeking out the familial relationship but they had grown close since the Civil War and it was distressing to hear such thoughts from a loved one. He would have to communicate more with FRIDAY to guarantee Tony wasn't suicidal.

The Hulk was growling in Bruce's head while he wondered how he missed this self-hatred. 'Oh Tony…' Bruce shied away from the presence of the Hulk who seemed angry at him. Not that he blamed the other guy, Bruce was angry at himself too. Somehow he had missed the depression and now it appeared he'd missed a lot more too. He knew he wasn't always the best person but Tony had thought he was a good man and even liked the Hulk. No one had ever accepted him as easily and quickly as Tony and he owed him a lot for that. It was galling to realize that he'd failed his best friend.

Natasha was cursing herself for her own failures. 'I wrote his profile, I've watched him for years. So how did I get him so wrong? What else have I missed?' She was trained for this, reading people was supposed to be one of her best skill sets. Now she was confronted with new mistakes in her profile around every corner. She was left wondering if she had screwed up that badly or if Tony's masks had really been good enough to get the better of Black Widow. Either way it didn't reflect well on her skills or her herself. It was a huge failure with the consequences falling mostly on Tony. He didn't deserve to pay for her mistakes.

"I think I've screwed up Clint," she whispered, turning to the shocked looking man.

"I don't think that anyone expected this Nat. He - I don't know, he always seemed so up himself, so arrogant. He's supposed to love himself too much not hate himself. It's like we're watching someone else-" Clint knew how well Natasha could read people, she was leaps and bounds beyond him, he was a sniper and worked better at a distance, he wasn't trained to read people and didn't go undercover often. He knew if Nat had failed to read Tony correctly he'd have had no chance.

"I'm supposed to be able to read people better than this! It's my job! But I couldn't even get past his masks." Natasha snarled.

"This is Stark!" Clint interjected harshly. "Hell, he seems to have three people living in his head, how could you possibly judge that?" He knows Nat doesn't find much comfort in his words and neither does he. He'd had a burgeoning friendship with Tony once, had liked the guy pretty well but he hadn't picked up on any of this. 'Come to think of it, when did that friendship stop? When did I start thinking he wasn't worth it?'

Meanwhile, Rhodey was shaking his head, keeping his eyes on his best friend. "No way in hell, Tones! You do not deserve to die! Not happening on my watch," Rhodey yelled vehemently, whilst he paced by the memory version of his best friend. He'd always figured Afghanistan was bad though Tony had always refused to talk about it, he'd never realised just how bad it had gotten or how guilty he'd been over his weapons falling into enemy hands. But Rhodey knew the blame lied with Obadiah, not Tony. He'd make sure Tony understood that and that he was no longer so consumed by grief and guilt that he'd wish for death.

Thor clapped a great hand on Rhodey's shoulder. "I am in agreement with you Friend Rhodes. Friend Anthony's weapons were corrupted and turned against his goal and it is Obadiah Stane who should face punishment for it and not Anthony for his intentions were only good." He knew Stane was dead now, but he felt that Obadiah Stane needed to pay for what he had done to his friend and so many other people. He would make sure this monster paid for his grievances.

'I wouldn't be in this much pain right now… But I'd never see JARVIS, the bots, Obadiah, Happy, Rhodey and Pepper ever again.

'You're a selfish bastard, Stark. You don't deserve to taint them with your bloody hands. You're only going to drag them down with you.'

"He's not selfish! You're not selfish to want to see your friends again," Peter cried the last part at Tony. 'How could he think like that?' Peter knew how he'd feel if something happened to Tony now and he never saw him again. He knew being Spider-Man was dangerous and sometimes got his friends into trouble and sometimes he screwed up, but he did what he did for them, to protect them and so did Tony. 'Stane's the one with blood on his hands, Mr Stark was just trying to do the right thing and he doesn't deserve to die for that!'

"I remember how relieved JARVIS was at his return. The bots as well. I dread to think what would have become of them alone, they love him dearly. It is not selfish," Vision states emphatically. Wanda moves to comfort him, she is shocked at Stark's vehement guilt and self-hatred. 'I thought him a callous killer with no care for who his weapons killed or the families they destroyed. And a man who knew nothing of real pain. I was wrong.'

Steve just shakes his head in a daze. 'I never expected this. Why didn't he talk to us?' The Tony he was witnessing here was extremely different to the arrogant, narcissistic man he had met on the Helicarrier, if in actuality Tony was feeling that depressed then he should have come forward and talked about it to them- either himself or Bruce would have been the wisest choice. Judging by the Doctor's face which is creased in self recrimination and anger he can guess that he didn't go to Bruce either. 'Why? Why didn't you talk to us Tony? We would have got it.'

Feeling rather flabbergasted, Scott remembered his first meeting with Stark and his quip about his conscience. 'It seems like Stark's conscience actually does talk to him a lot - too much in fact. He doesn't deserve to die like that.'

Winter hated watching Stark suffer like this, privately despite his best efforts he had grown to somewhat like the man who had freed him from his conditioning. 'I know how he feels.' Soldat thought. 'I killed so many under Hydra's control - it's a taint that I'll never get clean. Stark doesn't deserve this. It's Stane's taint- not his.'

Bucky, similar to him, liked Stark but it was because he sees a pre serum version of his best friend. In fact, to Winter, there were many times where Stark seemed to have a greater understanding of him than Bucky's best friend did. A key point to that was the memory of Stark's reaction to the fact that the Soldier decided to call himself Winter. 'I'm not what they made me, I was a soldier before, the Winter Soldier, for all purposes I am still him. Call me Winter. James has already been taken.' Steve had grinned at him like Christmas had come early thinking he was 'recovering' whereas he knew Stark saw it wasn't that. The dark eyed nod in answer told Winter that he understood. He knew that he was just accepting the similarities that Bucky and the him Hydra moulded shared.

Through these memories he had begun to find out exactly why Stark seemed to understand. He sees parts of himself in Stark especially in the Merchant or 'Angry', the only reason Bucky was still intact was because Bucky made him as his protector. Hydra tried to strip him of empathy, showing he cared got him tortured and could compromise a mission. He was still relearning despite the fact that it was easier being locked into the protocols and having his emotions shut down. But, damn, he actually likes Stark. He would have laughed at the thought of liking anyone before this experience - Steve is Bucky's friend not his. If he was to like anyone he definitely wouldn't have thought it would be someone whose parents he killed, guilt from that hit both Bucky and himself like a hammer to the chest… although his version of guilt is not sad and pathetic like Bucky's - his is angry, hot and burning. He hates himself and he hates the way everyone demonises him - including Bucky. He had no choice either - it's not like he asked for his brain to be routinely fried on that fucking chair. Stark seemed to be the only one who gets that - gets him - the most. That was why he liked him. Winter will try to handle this for him, despite the pain and the triggers. Hell he held out 70 years for Bucky... he could handle this for Stark.

"No. I'm glad you saved me." 'Selfish bastard.' His mind repeated more venomously than before. 'Maybe it's selfish but perhaps I can still do some good.'

Yinsen and the team release the breath they'd been holding with relief. Tony may have some serious self loathing they weren't aware of and possibly some suicidal tendencies but at least he didn't really want to die.

Peter smiled, 'you did do good Mr Stark.'

"You promise I won't be awake?" Tony steeled himself for the answer which he knew would be more of a reassurance than an actual promise the Doctor could make.

"I promise."


Walking into the room from his nightmares was every bit as awful as he thought it would be. His chest tightened and his breathing quickened to borderline hyperventilation as he stepped through the door frame and was assaulted with visions of blood, hands and knives. 'Oh god! They're going to strap me down - they're going to - !'

"It's just us and the two guards here Stark. Don't show them weakness." Yinsen whispered laying a hand on his shoulder.

He walked mechanically as Yinsen guided him over to a table of tools. They set about sterilizing the medical tools there. His hands trembled as he thought it was probably these very tools that had cut him open on the table just a meter away. Although the act of cleaning tools was familiar enough that he could almost imagine he was back in his workshop cleaning oil off his own equipment. It was probably the only thought that stopped him trying to flee the room, beside the fact that he wasn't even sure he'd be able to run let alone escape.

"Why did they have to it do here?" cries Peter.

"It's the closest thing they've got to an infirmary," Bruce explains tightly. "It's stocked and at least sort of clean."

"He shouldn't have ever had to come here again!" Growls Bucky. He couldn't imagine having to willingly step back into a room with that chair and machine again.

Eventually the task was done and everything was prepped and Yinsen was gently shepherding him onto the bed. He could feel phantom straps on his wrists and ankles and hands pinning his shoulders back. His chest being reamed open, fingers and tools digging into his chest to pull out tiny scraps of bloody metal -

Bruce is concerned that Tony is about to give himself a heart attack if he doesn't calm down.

"Breathe Stark," Nat murmurs.

Everybody was tense praying that nothing went wrong, that the anesthesia worked and that he hadn't been awake again.

"Okay Stark, I'm just swabbing your elbow, we'll get you hooked up to a drip and the anaesthesia," Yinsen speaks through every step, giving his panicking mind a focus away from his nightmares.

"I trust you Doc, you're not gonna let me pull a Shakespeare." Tony gave a wobbly smile.

Yinsen paused briefly in preparing the needle. "A Shakespeare?"

"You know him… famous playwright and actor who died on his birthday." Tony's smile fell, "I mean of all the days to go that would seriously suck the most. Apart from Christmas, at least my parents didn't die on Christmas Day… I'd already got them their gifts though. That's probably why I 'forget' gifts for people's birthdays or Christmas now. Whatever, do me a favour and don't psychoanalyse that." Tony rambled, he looked up briefly at Yinsen before staring up at the cave ceiling. "Why get people things when they can buy themselves whatever they want with your money anyway? It's stupid. "

Bucky winced and ducked his head at the mention of Maria and Howard's death. He remembered what he did quite clearly but he hadn't been very aware of the date. 'I orphaned a 17 year old at Christmas!' It was no wonder that Tony hadn't dealt with their deaths with that on top of all their family issues. It was always so much harder to lose loved ones during special times. He was no therapist but he knew that it wasn't good if Stark still wasn't buying presents for people.

Steve grimaced slightly, feeling a little guilty. Seeing Bucky's reaction he bumped him slightly and gave a weak smile while shaking his head. Bucky knew Steve was trying to comfort him, but it didn't help, if anything it disturbed him that Steve seemed more concerned with how he felt over how Tony felt. Tony was the victim, not him but Steve was still apparently refusing to acknowledge Bucky's fault.

To his credit, Yinsen appeared faintly horrified but didn't say anything as he prepared the needles to be inserted to Tony's hand and arm.

"It's your birthday?" Yinsen asked weakly.

"Well, I think so. Hard to keep track of the day's when there's no light and no clocks. I know I was taken on the 18th and my birthday is the 29th." He gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "It's the sort of thing that would happen to me."

"Shit!" Snarled Clint.

Natasha winced thinking about another birthday he spent thinking he was going to die.

"I don't think I'd ever want to celebrate another birthday again!" Exclaimed Scott.

There was a pinch of needles in his hand and the crook of his arm before he feels cold fluid rushing through his veins and Yinsen telling him to count backwards from ten.

"Ten, nine, ei-eight… sev'n…"


Yinsen was given the duty of watching over Stark by the Terrorists after the surgery, luckily this meant that they didn't care what he was doing while he watched over Stark.

He had managed to snag some spare wood from some damaged crates the terrorists had stored the weapons in when Stark had initially agreed to build their missile and a surgical knife that luckily hadn't been needed this operation.

Pulling the knife from the side, Yinsen gently began peeling the wood.

'Getting Stark a gift would be risky, if the terrorists had any notion of the friendship that exists between us it would be bad for both of us.'

He had paused for a moment, reconsidering his actions before carrying on as he did before.

'This was already going to be Starks worst birthday. He's not going to be without a gift.'

Natasha wondered how this birthday rated compared to the next. She couldn't help but agree with what Scott had said, with these two birthdays he'd likely stopped celebrating. She couldn't remember him ever celebrating with the team.

Carpentry is going to be a slow work but it would be worthwhile, he had last made some rudimentary toy animals for his youngest; Asha. However, Starks gift would be different. A pendant would be the best idea.

"A handmade wooden pendant? He's a billionaire, he's going to laugh at that," sneers Clint but then he quails under several glares.

'And I know exactly what animal to make you,' Yinsen looked up at Tony's motionless form. 'I apologise for judging you hastily Stark. I will help you get out of here even if I have to die doing it.'

Rhodey's world is made of pain. His thoughts - not his - Tony's thoughts flitter away before they form, consumed in the agony.

His mind floated amidst a burning sea until he was dragged under and away from the pain.

When he surfaces again his awareness was stronger and he can make sense of his body and almost think straight. His chest felt like he'd been impaled, which he realized wasn't entirely inaccurate as he remembered the surgery Tony went through. Pain radiated outward from his chest spreading throughout his entire body. He - Tony - whimpered.

Or tried to.

Tony gaged around something lodged in his throat, which sent a spasm like lightning through his chest which felt like it was being split open and for a moment he can feel phantom hands digging through his chest. He tries to scream and the pain had his world fracturing around him.

The pain Rhodey feels before he and Tony disappear back into unconsciousness is pure agony, the likes of which he'd never felt before. The only thing that came close was that split second where he'd felt his spine snap in Leipzig. It was worse to then recall that this was ghost pain - what Tony was actually feeling was much worse.

'Fucking hell Tones.'

When he woke again he kept carefully still. His mind was finally coherent enough to not fight the invasion in his throat. He tried raising his hand to remove it but even that sent jolts of pain tearing through his body. Even staying still did little to ease the pain.

'Don't try to move man! Just lie still,'

Rhodey was keenly aware of his chest, expanding and relaxing artificially. 'Fuck that's painful too.'

He can feel every rib grinding and the movement of a heavy, cold weight moving up and down, pressing on his lungs. Every time it sunk into his chest he could feel it brush against his heart.

It's a terrifying thing for Rhodey; feeling that huge chunk of metal coming so close to his best friends fragile heart.

The mechanical beeping and rhythmic whooshing sounds of machines pull him out of his introspective terror enough for him to ground himself. He recognized the sound of a heart monitor and ventilator and could feel various needles along with a feeding tube once again running into his nose.

'Fuck! He wouldn't even be breathing without that ventilator!'

Then come other sounds, "...St..k...you...hear…op...your eyes"

It took Tony's brain far to long to focus through the pain and discern that it's Yinsen's voice.

"Can you open your eyes Stark?"

Tony tries, the light is piercingly bright, even the sliver he sees before scrunching his eyes shut tighter stabs through his head and makes him flinch away. Then it's all he can do to keep from choking around the tube in his throat, even the subtle movement setting his raw throat aflame.

Rhodey's pretty sure his heart is breaking - both physically (thanks to Tony's ghost pain) and metaphorically. He knew if he was in his physical body right now he'd be crying. But at the moment he's trapped inside the body of his beloved best friend who has just had his chest ripped open for the second time.

'Why are you still friends with me Tones? I was rubbish at being supportive to you after you got out and I found you. Did I ever apologize for being angry about you cancelling the weapons contract? I promise I will as soon as I can.'

"Alright, alright. Easy. Calm down." Yinsen's hand reached for his then, "Can you squeeze my hand?"

Rhodey feels Tony's fingers feebly curl around Yinsen's.

"Good, good. Okay, can you tap out how much it hurts? from one to ten?"

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap

If Rhodey didn't know otherwise he would be sure that Tony's finger had a twitch and not that it was an accurate representation of the pain.

Yinsen's other hand calms his frantic tapping. "I'll up the morphine. But first I need to know, is there pain coming from anywhere other than your chest? One squeeze for yes, two for no."

'The fuck? Everything hurts!

'Focus. Any pain that shouldn't be there? Does anything feel wrong? Apart from the chunk of metal in your chest?'

Tony takes a slow stock of his body. His body aches all other but the worst of the pain is definitely in his chest. He squeezes twice and is rewarded by blissful coolness spreading from his arm that soothes away the pain and sends his mind floating again. He gives one final squeeze to Yinsen's hand in thanks.

As gold took over his vision, Rhodey wished that that would be the end of Tony's pain, but he knew this was still far from over.


Tony hesitantly blinks open his eyes but this time the light doesn't split his head.

He wonders how long he's been out for, but there's no way to tell. All his senses are shrouded in fog, even the pain feels dulled. But now he's aware enough he can see the grey rock of the ceiling and feel the chill of cold air.

Even though Tony had been moved back into the cell, he was still hooked up to various equipment. It's a shock to their system to see him lying on the bed with IV's in his arm, hooked up to a heart monitor and chest drains. The ventilator and the intubation tube going down his throat is the most jarring along with the feeding tube in his nose, together they cover most of the lower half of his face.

He seemed smaller, while not a very tall man he'd always given off a larger-than-life presence, but it was gone now and instead he looked frail. He's pale and his chest was swathed in bandages that block the light of the reactor. A whistling whoosh accompanies the mechanical expiration of his lungs and his eyes are glazed. With all the bandages wrapped around his torso, back and arms, two chest drains leading under the bandages on his chest, the IV's and heart monitors, the intubation and nasogastric tubes taped to his face and the ventilator tubes hanging around the bed he looked sick and fragile. The weight loss from lack of food and the lights in the cell made him look even more pale and gaunt.

"Oh god, Tony…" Rhodey muttered as he stared at the feeble image of his best friend. He'd seen Tony in pretty bad shape plenty often after battles and he'd never forget finding him in the workshop after Stane had stolen the reactor.

Peter stubbornly blinks away tears, it was hard for him at first to connect the larger than life, healthy Tony Stark he had grown to know and love to the sickly thin pale slip of a man on that bed. 'Holy shit, Mr Stark.'

He's blinking dazedly until Yinsen's blurry figure appears above him.

"Stark, good day sleeping beauty," Yinsen quips at him.

He tries to say something in return but his throat rips into agony around the tube he'd forgotten, suddenly he's choking and gagging around it. 'Oww. There's the pain.'

He rides out the excruciating spasms through his throat and chest, feeling like he's been split open and lit on fire. When the spasms had finally run their course - helped with some more morphine - and he managed not to aggravate anything else he was feeling more tired than before he woke up. He wanted to dip back into unconsciousness but this time his body won't acquiesce.

They only felt part of what Tony felt, but even a fraction of that pain was more than most broken bones compared to the pain Tony felt now. That flare of pain hadn't been far off what he'd felt during the first surgery.

The non enhanced members of the team grabbed their chests and coughed around sore throats as that familiar pain stabbed through them once again.

"Fuck, man." Scott gasped as he grimaced around that feeling and shuddered. "To think we're only feeling a fraction of what he went through too…"

"Don't try to talk yet Stark," Yinsen said softly, "You have an endotracheal tube in your throat to help you breathe, your lungs aren't ready to breathe on their own."

Tony is too tired and in far too much agony now to respond and just weakly let Yinsen repeat the previous tests, and tell him he'd been asleep for most of the last five days. When Yinsen asked for his pain level he just managed to tap out an seven.

There's a round of head shaking and all of them have wide eyes at what they know is an underestimation of Tony's pain. Right now, a normal pain chart didn't seem adequate for a chunk of metal surgically implanted and connected to his ribs, but Bruce's guess would have been a least a nine, with that flare of pain going off the standard chart.

"I'll up the morphine, see what we can do about that."

Yinsen adjusted his dosage and waited a few minutes before repeating the question and now Tony taped out a five before Yinsen left him to rest.

He did try to sleep but it's a fitful, haunted rest. He dosed and his awareness came and went for what might've been minutes or days and afterward he still felt exhausted.

"How can he still be exhausted? Shouldn't sleep help him recover?"Wanda asks the others, a lot of them find themselves stunned at the lack of animosity colouring that question, they only found curiosity and -possibly concern lacing her tone.

"No," Steve answers wearily. "It's called chronic fatigue. Often intense pain saps your energy and leaves you feeling exhausted no matter how much sleep you get… there were times when I was bed bound for days because of how draining my illnesses were."

None of them had anything to say to that. Steve appears deep in thought, Tony going through something he was intimately familiar with made the parallels with both him and Tony run deeper. He couldn't help but feel closer to Tony than he had ever felt before.

Finally Yinsen stopped ignoring his silent questioning about the ventilator. Yinsen had told him prior to the surgery that he would be on it for a while, but he had only been able to give a rough idea of how long as it largely depended on how fast and well his body healed. Tony knew he'd been on the ventilator for at least 5 days and wanted to know how much longer before he could get the damn thing out of his sore throat.

Everyone was in agreement there. The sight of the tube taped to his face and the telltale bulge of it going down his throat was somewhat disturbing and they would all be happy to see it removed.

"Probably a number of days yet Stark. It will depend on how well your lungs manage to function with the decreased mass. You've lost about thirty percent of lung capacity combined with the trauma of the surgery and your lungs having to adjust to the arc, they need time to heal and I don't want you even trying to breathe on your own yet for a few days, minimum."

"Thirty percent! That thing made him lose thirty percent of his lung capacity, how did he manage to even wear the suit on a regular basis and keep up with the rest of us." Bucky was stunned, he knew that if Steve still had all of his illnesses he'd fail at keeping up with the team although he would try his best to power through like Stark obviously had done. 'Another similarity to Stevie…'

Meanwhile, Rhodey dropped his head in shame, he had seen how deep the Arc had went but he had never suspected that it had caused that much damage to Tony's body. 'What did I seriously think it did? I've seen Tony swap reactor and cores, how did I never think it wouldn't affect his organs?' It was easy to berate himself now with the benefit of hindsight but if Tony's childhood proved anything is that Tony was an expert at keeping things hidden that were traumatic to him.

' The Merchant of Death now needs a tube to breathe and to accomplish things even babies can do.' Tony thought self-deprecatingly. It was humiliating for him to have to rely on a machine to do something so simple and natural. Even worse the ventilator looked to be at least ten years out of date and somewhat worse for wear. It looked like it could fail at any point and leave him suffocating.

Bruce wrung his hands anxiously. 'Those machines really don't look reliable… that makes Tony's chances of a proper recovery even lower. It's a miracle he survived really.'

Tony was also completely reliant on Yinsen, he could barely move without the agony making him wish for unconsciousness. The only other time he'd been so helpless was after that beating as a kid, but even then Howard had built him those braces to ensure he had some independence and wasn't codelled.

A few of them frowned at the reminder of that kidnapping. It had obviously affected Tony more than he admitted.

'Although, Jarvis, Ana and Madre all smothered me with attention anyway… there's a chance I'm going to join them soon.'

Feeling the stab of longing, guilt and grief through their gut felt physically painful.

'At least that's one benefit if the machines give out… it'll be a painful way to go but God I miss them so much.'

"You can't think like Mr Stark, you don't die here - you can't. I need you." Peter murmurs, he remembers feeling like that at times after his early worse missions as Spider Man. He missed Uncle Ben a lot but as much as he wanted that at times Aunt May and his friends had needed him and supported him which gave him the strength to deal with what had happened. 'Mr Stark didn't seem to ever get that support…'

The horror settles like a heavyweight in his stomach as gold clouds everyone's vision again.