IRON MAN 26: DISPLACEMENT
Part One of a Fan Fiction Saga
By Neil Iron Nitz Kapit

 Thus far, Tony, our sessions have covered the majority of your past. We've talked about your father, your relationships, your stress levels, your drinking, and your armored adventures from alleyways to alternate realities. We've met and talked in depth for over a week and a half now, and my notebook is fill to burst with scribbled observations. If I were a lesser man, I would use these scribbled observations to write a biography and make a killing.
But I still feel as though we haven't yet gotten to the root of the problem. Knowledge of your earlier life helps me to some extent, but it seems as though more recent events are what have caused your mental state to be in such dire shape. With the......Iron Man incident.....broadcasted on all the networks for the past couple months, I would have to be quite incompetent not to form some form of link.
I'm ready when you are, Tony.

Looking up from his intensely marked notebook, Doctor Leonard Samson took a thoughtful gaze at his patient, Tony Stark. After a somewhat dubious start, Samson had finally broken through Tony's seeming barriers and had gotten him to talk about his neuroses. For days, Tony went into detail on his turbulent life, starting at childhood, and working his way towards his career as the armored hero, Iron Man. But whenever the topic turned to more recent history, Tony remained quiet. Perhaps he would try to change the subject, perhaps he'd mention his aversion to talking just yet , or perhaps he'd just sit quietly, not even responding. But as Samson could tell, Tony Stark was an intensely private man.

And he could no longer tolerate that privacy. From Samson's watch, Tony was fighting a battle inside his mind, trying to choose between keeping quiet and retaining his secrets, and talking to Samson and risking whatever consequences that might have. Though at first Tony's position seemed stationary, his hands were trembling, and his eyes winced as a thousand secret thoughts went through his mind. Eventually, Tony's lips slowly moved, and he said, stoically......

All right.

I don't have anything to lose. I suppose I'll tell you, Doctor, the truth behind the recent headlines and tabloids. I'll tell you WHY so many lives were destroyed, and so many more ruined......MINE INCLUDED.

Reaching into a small backpack, Samson grasped another notebook, a blank one, and immediately began writing.

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The point in which my troubles began took place mere months ago. I do not remember exactly when; I suppose it was a compilation of several different events, which all led up in their own fashions to some dire repercussions. But I do remember what I felt before everything went so tragically awry.

Confidence. Power. Purpose.

Freedom.

I remember, six months ago, flying free, like a bird. Like a mechanical bird, a bird clad in armor with high-powered jets. Thousands of feet above my elaborate mansion in Washington, I was testing my most recent programs for flight courses. Turning my manual control on, I just let the Iron Man armor do the work, controlling my descent through the pages of code written into the microscopic circuitry. Behind the armor's optical HUD, I just gazed straight, viewing the sights as the armor did the work.

It was an incredible sensation; not a physical one, but a mental one. From behind the lenses, I looked down on the island where my mansion stood, and smiled with a bit of contempt. Though in terms of mass the island dwarfed me with ease, from this perspective, it was a mere blob of green with patches of brown, little more than a pimple on the skin of the Earth. I was in the middle of the wild blue yonder, between the earth and the cosmos. I was experiencing personal sensations available only to mutants, gods, and aliens; no humans had the flight experience I had, but with my personal technology, I could enjoy this.

I was still monitoring the read-outs in my lenses as I flew, keeping track of the more administrative parts of this flight sequence. But my exhilirance could not be hidden. The armor moved as though it was alive, adding more fluidity to its movements as each line of the program executed. From standard straight flight, the suit went to elaborate twists, turns, and loops, flying over every sector of the island and changing its course with each passing rotation. And inside, I just enjoyed the fruits of my labors, watching the sheer greatness of my personal machinery.

After diving towards the earth and deftly maneuvering through a clump of trees without a scratch, I further slipped away into this pseudo-athletic, pseudo-mental ecstasy, after being awakened from my euphoria by a signal from the world below, direct to the armor's frequency.

Are you finished, Tony?

My secretary Pepper Potts, one of my most trusted employees and friends, had some business for me. She said; Sorry to interrupt on your day off, Tony, but you've gotten several messages, and I think you should take a listen.

I didn't really hide my irritation well, but I still knew that I had responsibilities, and I told her to send the phone messages to the special frequency in my helmet receivers. At the time, I was a combination between an inventor, a CEO, a consultant, a socialite, and an Avenger. That takes time away from sitting idly on my ass, or in my case, flying by the metal-covered seat of my pants.

Under instructions I'd given her earlier, Pepper sent my answering machine's data onto a special device, set to my helmet frequency, and I received the words from my various clients, friends, and foes. I leisurely hovered down to earth as they transmitted.

Five messages. Almost all of which would come into play in the future, and all of which I'll quote. Message one, from my ex-flame and fellow Avenger, Janet Van Dyne. You probably know her better as the Avengers' chairwoman, the Wasp.

Tony? Just a reminder, the Avengers have arranged an advance charity spot in Florida a month from now. I know you don't like these sort of events, but with the recent Triune troubles we've had, it may be necessary.
If I had gone to that event, it might have been a nice ego boost. Message two, from T'Challa, king of Wakanda. A very mysterious hero type, and while I've worked alongside him in many cases, and have great respect for his courage and skill, I haven't been able to fully trust him. Especially after he crashed his nation's economy for some reason I'm not clear on, right after I invested in one of his companies.

Regarding the recent concerns you have, Anthony, I believe a meeting is in order. I have arranged for a conversation in the Embassy over tea. Be there within a fortnight.

I didn't know if his message was comforting, or disconcerting, since the man always keeps a poker face on, even behind his ceremonial mask.

Message three, from Jim Rhodes, one of my oldest and closest friends of all. Who's remained loyal to me as an employee, a comrade, and a friend, even after all the crap I've put him through being Iron Man's closest confidante.

Tony? Jim. Lissen, about the Parnell case, I've contacted some old military buddies to keep tabs on his dealings. I'll let ya know if I hear any War Machine trouble. Later.

The Parnell case he referred to involved one of Rhodey's old comrades in his army days, who managed to find one of my armors and use it for his own irresponsible goals; something I have always abhorred, my technology used in a disorderly fashion. Message four, from the President of Marvel Comics, who once published the Iron Man Charity Comic.

Tony? It's Bill. Yeah, I know Iron Man sales remain strong, but me and Joe thought we could shake up the book a little, maybe? Do you think we could make Iron Man a teenager in a Japanese-style manga armor? Or at least add Ultimate in the title somewhere?

I've read a bit of their books, Samson interrupted, And I haven't been very fond of them. Especially not that Azarello fellow. Anyway, continue.

If it weren't for the profits being sent to the Maria Stark Foundation, I never would have licensed my armored identity to those idiots, not that it matters now. And, of course, message five, from my then-romantic-interest, Rumiko Fujikawa.

Look, Tony, I know we haven't been very close, and I know you weren't happy with what happened with Ultimo, but I really think we should work things out. I'll be in Seattle for a little bit, and--

Hold, , I thought to the armor, using my neuroelectric impulses to pause the message. Rumiko and I had a rather turbulent relationship, with neither of us ever being able to arrange time for each other, and the fact that she was ten years younger than me didn't help. Many of our meetings involved her trying to get me off to some sort of wild escapade, and me being too busy with my work and my Iron Man time. I'd like to say that I actually wanted to resolve any emotional baggage, that by meeting with her I at least wanted to stay friends.

But as I started to dial her number, my thoughts were purely political.

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A call, a shower, a flight to the mainland, and a short drive, and I was at the restaurant Rumiko and I agreed to meet at by 2:15 pm. We scheduled the rendezvous for 2:00 pm, but I took some extra time to prepare the armor for storage in the trunk of my car.

And to be fair, it only took me two minutes to decompress the armor into a storable form, and put the security systems built into my Prowler on full alert. Much of that time was spent lovingly staring at the armor, as it lay inside the trunk. It looked like a red-and-gold egg in the compressed form, with many different areas glowing with dimmed light. I knew that it was just a standard sign that all systems were alert, but from the angle I looked at it from, standing above almost like an expectant father, it seemed alive, with warmth permeating through the titanium shell and onto my hand. There was incredible potential within the shell, and I knew I was responsible for it. Then, that feeling pleased me to no end.

Of course, judging from the look on Rumiko's face when I finally drove to our meeting place, she didn't feel the same.

She looked at me with a frown at first, having sat still at the table for fifteen minutes, but warmed up more as I began to settle in my seat. She arranged for our little date to be at a small cafe in downtown Seattle, a rather quaint little place. I guess she wanted fewer people to be around when the two socialites started bickering. At least the coffee here was decent.

Conversing with her was rather disjointed, as though our conversations were taped from different meetings and brought to a different table. She was concerned with making our relationship work, for reasons I can't fathom. I was interested in using her as a means of claiming her father's corporation, which once belonged to me. How I lost my corporation is not important, and talking about it would leave you insane, as it almost left me. What is important is that, in my arrogance, I did not pay any regard to Rumiko's feelings.

....so, Grandfather's birthday is coming up soon, and it'll be a huge party......I was wondering if you'd like to come with me, Tony?

.....my consulting contract with S/F lasts two and a half more weeks. From there, I probably won't return, with other prospects remaining....

......I just got this dress from Victoria's Secret, real fine silk. I think from France....how do you like it, Tony?

....I still haven't quite forgot about the last experience with S/F, Rumiko. I'd like to look into that some more.....

Tony, do you even CARE about US?

I DO care, Ru, and.... I said, as I was cut off by circumstances outside the cafe. A little less than a block away, there was a rather large fire raging, burning through some buildings. From the screams that I could hear even from my table, reportedly a propane tanker had crashed into a building, and there was a large explosion. The cafe was safe, and fire trucks were already coming towards the scene.
Damn it, I said, I think I should get Iron Man's attention for this.

Firemen are already on their way, Tony! Rumiko said impatiently. You don't need to stop our date!

Only way I can trust firefighters to be able to handle this without casualties is for them to be fireproof, , I said, and I removed a small black device from my pants pocket, and placed it in my ear. To an unknowing bystander, it would look like a hearing aid, but as it connected to my right lobe, small microfilaments started to spread into my various orifices, and it started to convert my thoughts into electronic impulses, and transmitted them to the armor. From the cafe table, and without Rumiko knowing, I was in remote control of the Iron Man armor, as it burst out of my car's trunk and expanded, directed towards the blaze. Iron Man has been alerted. Anyway, continue.

Rumiko went on about something, our relationship or my lack of attention or that time of the month or something. I don't quite remember, as though my physical body was present, my thoughts were directed towards the armor, and I was directing a course towards the blaze. From there, as my meat-body passively nodded in order to feign interest, my armored body mechanically marched towards the downed tanker, and unleashed streams of a quick-freezing chemical onto the burning oil itself. As bystanders and firemen cheered me on, I multitasked between the blaze, and people in danger. I stopped to assist a man who'd been pinned under some debris, as the last vestiges of the flame started to come near him, when Rumiko started shouting at me, enough to break my concentration.

DAMN IT, TONY, IRON MAN CAN TAKE CARE OF HIMSELF! She yelled, not knowing that I was effectively Iron Man. She did know, though, that I was connected to him, and her shouting caused me to lose control. Fortunately at the time, the armor had limited self-sufficiency, and managed to automatically shoot a more powerful burst of freon to stop the blaze, and save the day. From there, without my input, no more civilians were in danger. I managed to regain control, use the strength of the armor's servos to easily remove any debris trapping the man, and fly off after a heroic welcome gesture.

But Rumiko didn't care for my negligence, and decided to lecture me about how I never paid attention to her, with several colorful word choices. It's always business with you, isn't it! Some high-powered meeting, some paperwork, some time needed to babysit your little boyfriend Iron Man. What about me? No wonder you're a playboy, if you just give women some sex and throw them out....

Probably because my business is IMPORTANT, I said, my own anger starting to surface. I run a successful consulting firm with all the profits going to charity-- charities that make the world MOVE, such as the Avengers. I devote any spare time I have to building inventions that further humanity's progress as a species, and solve any challenges we face. And I back all the activities of IRON MAN, who is not my boyfriend , but a great man who has saved millions of lives-- lives INCLUDING those next to the downed tanker only a few dozen feet away. I cannot devote my time to you, and I will NOT go out of my way to please you every time you get BORED. Now if you'll excuse me.....

I would have expected Rumiko to slap me, run off crying, and spend the evening curled up with a tub of Haagen Daaz. Instead, she just looked at me, as I returned to my car, with my armor hibernating in the trunk. She was angry, of course....but she also looked puzzled, like sensed that I was hiding something. That I had some secret behind my constant work, that left me displaced even in person. That there was a reason for my lack of emotions, beyond the convenient ( abliet true ) reason of me being a bastard.

She was right, of course. And though it was inconceivable at the time, the secrets I kept would end up nearly destroying me.....

 What do you mean, Tony?

Anthony Stark sighed, and started to get up from his seat. It's nearly the end of our session. Now if you'll excuse me?

Samson walked out of the room, and started to leave the Avengers Mansion he was paid to come to. There was plenty of material he had already enscribed from Tony's encounter with his former girlfriend, but Tony was still cryptic about that one event in the near future which shook him to the core of his soul. At least it seemed like Tony would discuss it in tommorow's session, but with the potential for destruction that Tony could unleash with his brilliant mind, any mental problems he had would best be solved soon.

TO BE CONTINUED......