"Heavy boots of lead

Fills his victims full of dread
Running as fast as they can
Iron man lives again"
- Black Sabbath

There was a flurry of people over the next hour following the incident. The fake ambulance had taken them to the secret SHIELD office in town. STRIKE teams were everywhere; engineers were trying to pry the suit from Tony's unconscious body; nurses were escorting Danny and Pepper around.

Danny was having a hard time keeping her cool because she was disoriented and separated from the two people she trusted – but then Agent Coulson was at her side, present and familiar, and her nerves were quelled. Pepper was being questioned by SHIELD agents for the second time in twenty-four hours. The other agents in the secret facility were on high alert, trying to maneuver the news space and cover the fight between Obadiah Stane and Tony Stark. Pressers were being scheduled already, and goddamn, the world was about to have a field day.

Danny's body ached from the night's events: She had apparently sustained a concussion from the blast and a couple fractured ribs from nearly being smothered by Stane's iron monger suit, but she knew within another hour she would be fine. The girl had snuck out of her makeshift hospital room once her nurse had left her to her own devices, shuffling down the hallways in search for –

"Ma'am? Can I help you with something?" It was one of the other nurses on the floor, concern etched across his features. When she turned to look at him, recognition filled his eyes. "Ms. Barton. I didn't realize –"

Danny said, "Tony Stark? Where is he?" She angled her head down the hall once more, brows raising in another silent question.

He disclosed, "Room 616, down the hall to the left."

Tony was fast asleep, buried in stark-white sheets. He had red marks and cuts across his skin, stitches along his forehead. An IV drip was hanging beside some sort of device that connected to his Arc Reactor. Danny felt a little relief upon registering the strong beeping from the heart monitor.

Danny pulled one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs beside Tony's bed, perching in it with her legs crossed. She watched as his chest rose and fell. He was safe now. He was alive. Everything was going to be fine.

Except for the silence. Her headspace was too quiet. Danny hoped that it was only the concussion; she wasn't sure how she'd fare without that second voice in her head. Ironically enough, she now welcomed the Sharp One after having the presence for the few months.

She greeted the nurse when one came in to replace Tony's drip bag. Would Pepper be by to see them at any point? Her eyes wandered out to the hall briefly, looking through the small window on the door as people passed.

Soon enough, Danny felt her consciousness fading. Her eyelids were starting to feel heavy, but she knew Tony was safe, in front of her, and she'll keep him safe from now on.

Well, she can keep him safe after she gets some rest…

It was close to four in the morning by the time they had touched down in the facility. Clint strode down to the loading dock, following behind the three other agents that had been on his STRIKE team. He began to undo his arm brace after catching his bow on his pack holder. Ward, Ruediger, and Davis stowed away their holstered weapons once they passed the lockers. Their team of four began their trek up to the main office for debrief.

"Barton, your squad's back pretty late." The agent at the entrance checked their dossier and made a face. "You were due back at the Hub three days ago."

"Ruediger caused the op to go belly-up, but we managed," he revealed, throwing a smug look at the agent in question. "This west field office was the closest we could get before our Quinjet gave out."

Grant Ward, one of the young and fastest-rising agents, walked ahead of Clint. He swiped along on his portable screen, likely catching up on local news. "Can someone give us an update on Stark Industries? Seems like we missed all the fun."

Clint stopped short, brows knitting together. If it involved Stark, it probably involved his sister. He stepped up to Ward, grabbing his shoulder and asking, "What was that about Stark?"

Ward angled the screen to him, showing the newscast of the energy blast that was seen from the Stark Industries building. "Some sort of fight went down in LA by the factory," he answered meekly, giving the senior agent a onceover. "Coulson picked up three civvies."

"Debrief first, Clint." Davis piped up, further suggesting, "Find Coulson later."

Another agent passed them by, stating simply, "Coulson's just left the medical wing."

"What was he doing up in medical?"

"Lost four agents in LA. He's been watching over Stark and his ward for the last couple –"

Clint's stomach dropped. He was gone before the sentence was finished. The archer violently shoved between the agents in his way, finding the nearest stairwell and taking the steps two at a time. After finding out the room number and subsequently seeing his sister's empty bed, Clint started getting anxious.

It took another five minutes of searching through the corridors before he saw her through a window into one of the other rooms, knocked out in a chair. Clint opened the door gingerly. His sister looked pretty okay, not the worse for wear. What outward injuries she may have sustained appeared healed by now. Her mouth was slightly open, most definitely deep in her sleep.

The bed creaked as its occupant moved, and Clint made eye contact with none other than Tony Stark himself. Clint noticed some sort of device attached to the light that emanated from his chest. Stark looked like absolute shit (not that he was any better, only having returned from a long mission).

"Sorry, uh, guy? I don't remember asking for visitors," he croaked out lightly, looking Clint up and down. He had bruises and cuts littering his stupidly handsome face; a look of mild irritation and confusion was evident. "Did the other agent send you?"

"Just checking in," Clint said. Motioning to Danny, he added, "She wasn't in her room, so I came looking."

"Well, you found her," he replied curtly, a tinge of protectiveness entwining his words. Stark pushed himself up with some effort, grimacing against the pain. "Feel free to leave whenever. Or sooner. But, you know, free country and all."

Stark's blasé remark caused a pang of irritation to his core; he wasn't exactly sure the proper response to that. He'd heard ample things about Stark and his lip. It was cold and dismissive, but Clint recognized the man's body language. Even injured and likely fighting off shock, Tony Stark looked like he owned the room. He was tense, shielding Danny from where he sat, angled slightly to face Clint just in case he tried something.

Clint recognized the protective streak because he's the same way about his sister.

His eyes flickered back to Danny's sleeping form, finally realizing she must have never told Stark about him, about her being involved with SHIELD in the first place. Danny had kept his work a secret, so to Stark, Clint was a total stranger. Before he had a chance to properly introduce himself, a knock came at the door.

He turned to find Coulson sticking his head in. "Ah, Barton, thought I'd find you here," Coulson said in a stage whisper. He opened the door wider, giving a curt greeting to Stark. "Heard from Davis that you ran off. Go debrief. I'll let her know to find you when she wakes."

If Stark was curious about why they had come looking for Danny, he didn't show it.

"What the hell happened?" Clint asked, retreating out into the hall. He stepped up to Coulson, looking him in the eye. "Why are they here? I thought you were supposed to keep her safe."

Coulson shut the door before answering. "Debrief, and then we'll talk."

"Now's a good a time as any –"

"That's an order, Clint. I'm not going to ask again."

And that was that. Clint took in a deep breath. He looked back at his sister, at Coulson, and then at the agents surrounding them that tried to look busy as if they weren't just listening to their spat. Defeated, he turned on his heel and made his way to the conference room.

He didn't see Danny or Stark again until the presser in the late morning.

What happened after leaving the Stark Industries lab exploded remained only the briefest of flashes in Tony's head. He remembered the Arc Reactor blast, and then he was waking up on the medical floor of what he later came to know as SHIELD's secret field office. The first thing that Tony saw was Danny, asleep and sitting at his bedside. It was… nice. Nice to know that she cared enough. But of course, he wouldn't admit it to anyone besides Pepper.

The morning wasn't too kind to him. (Given, when was any morning kind to him?) It was a check-up with their on-call doctor, and then a debrief with Agent Coulson, and then a pick-up for new clothes because they had to get to the SI office to release a statement.

Tony had to hand it to the organization that Coulson was a part of; they knew how to cover up huge fuck-ups. Namely, his huge fuck-ups.

His best friend, Rhodey, was already downstairs providing a prelude to the press who had showed up. As Tony flipped through the morning's newspaper, being fussed over by Pepper, he listened to the live footage on the television.

"You've all received official reports of what occurred at Stark Industries last night," Rhodey began. "There have been unconfirmed reports that a robotic prototype malfunctioned and caused damage to the Arc Reactor. Fortunately, a member of Tony Stark's personal security –"

"Iron Man," Tony said, trying the moniker out for size. He continued to scan the news article, holding back a smile. "It's kind of catchy, it's got a nice ring to it. I mean, it's technically not accurate since it's gold titanium – alloy." Tony winced when Pepper pulled off the bandage on his nose. He threw her a look, one which she returned. "But it's got an evocative imagery anyway."

After some time, Tony heard voices from the front room. From where he sat, the forms of Danny, Agent Coulson, and the other agent from the night before could be seen. Coulson stepped through the doors to his main office, holding out blue notecards. "Here's your alibi," he offered.

His eyes flickered to Danny and the agent outside. The billionaire folded the newspaper away as he took the cards, nodding his thanks.

Coulson summarized, "You were on your yacht. We have four papers to put you on Avalon all night and sworn statements from fifty of your guests."

"See, I was thinking we can say it just, uh – it was just Pepper and me, alone on –" Tony held back a groan when Pepper forcibly ripped a strip from his forehead " – on the yacht."

The agent kept his ever-present, thin-lipped smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's what happened. Just read it word for word."

Tony scanned the cards, brows knitting together as he went. Vacation, yacht guests, security enforcements… "There's nothing about Stane here," he pointed out, fishing. Tony raised a brow.

Coulson hadn't missed a beat as he answered, "That's being handled. He's on vacation. Small aircrafts have a poor safety record."

Morbid, Tony thought briefly. He blinked. "But what about the whole cover story that – it's a bodyguard? He's my bodyg – I mean that… that's kind of flimsy now."

"This isn't my first rodeo, Mr. Stark," Coulson almost sighed out. Tony could tell it took everything in the man to suggest as kindly as possible: "Just stick to the official statement, and soon this will all be behind you." He watched the television momentarily, estimating, "You've got… ninety seconds."

Pepper caught the agent at the door. "Oh, Agent Coulson? I just wanted to say thank you very much, for all your help."

"That's what we do. You'll be hearing from us," he said with finality.

"From the Strategic Homeland Interv –"

He smiled. "Just call us SHIELD." Coulson nodded at them once more before taking his leave. To the others, he announced, "Barton, time to go."

Tony was ostensibly curious as to how Danny could have bonded so easily with this agent guy. She had become somewhat of a recluse like himself over the last couple months, didn't really leave the house and didn't appear to talk with others outside of their little circle. He watched them, trying not to make it look obvious.

But then they hugged, and he kissed the top of her head, and Danny smiled and told him, "Don't be a stranger."

Was he having a stroke? What the fu –

Pepper picked up his suit jacket, bringing him back to the impending task at hand by saying, "Well, let's get this show on the road."

Right, press conference. Tony turned around, shaking his head. He put the note cards in between his teeth as he wormed his arms through the jacket sleeves, muttering out, "You know, it's actually not that bad. Even I don't think I'm Iron Man."

"You're not Iron Man," Pepper stated simply.

"Yeah, I am."

"You're not."

"Alright, suit yourself." He turned around to face her, fixing his cuffs. "See, if I were Iron Man, I'd have this girlfriend who'd know my true identity; she'd be a wreck."

A grin. Pepper avoided his gaze, tugging on his tie, fixing his collar.

"She'd always be worrying that I was gonna die… Yet so proud of the man I'd become. She'd be –" He cocked his head to the side in contemplation. "– wildly conflicted, which would only make her more –" Cleared his throat. "– crazy about me."

Nothing.

Tony looked at Pepper, trying to get a gauge on her. "Tell me you never think about that night."

Pepper paused the folding of his handkerchief for a moment before asking, "What night?"

"You know," he said, a corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

Her eyes met his, flickering up, and Tony drew a slow breath because he never really noticed how nice her eyes were. Blue. Incredibly blue. Pepper's lips tugged at the corners. "Are you talking about… the night that we danced, and… we went up on the roof, and… and then you went downstairs to get a drink, and you… left me there, all by myself?" Her expression was stoic, words pointed. She took a moment, letting the situation sink in. "Is that the night you're talking about?"

Tony felt a chill go through him, and he clenched his teeth together. Oh. Oh, he did do that. Right before leaving for Gulmira mere hours later. He let out a strangled affirmation, feeling all the blood leave his face.

"Thought so." Pepper made an attempt to hold back a satisfied grin, placing his hanky back into his breast pocket. "Will that be all, Mr. –"

"Yes," he said almost too quickly. As he angled for the door, he finished, "Yeah, that'll be all, Ms. Potts."

Danny was engrossed with her phone screen when Tony stepped out. She sent him a genuine smile when she noticed him, stowing the device away. "You ready, boss man?"

Tony snorted a short laugh through his nose, pushing the second set of glass doors open. He decided to change the subject as they walked, heading for the stairs. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot," she replied, eyes down on her feet as they hustled down the steps.

Tony asked her quietly, "That guy, with Agent Coulson?" He led her down the hall to the main lobby, where around fifty or so members of the press were gathered. "What was his name?"

"Oh, Clint? What about him?" Danny followed close to his side, keeping towards the back wall as they entered.

"You guys seem close is all," he said lightly, raising an arm to wave at Rhodey. He lowered his hand, passing his coat pocket to feel for the notecards.

She stole a glance up at the brunet, brows furrowing slightly. A contemplative look appeared on Danny's features. Tony wondered if she was going to explain who he was to her exactly; the guy looked too young to be her father (who was dead, right, obviously) and too old to be any kind of appropriate "friend." But before he could ask a follow-up question, Rhodey was segueing into his introduction, and the moment had passed.

"…and now, Mr. Stark has prepared a statement. He will not be taking any questions."

The press shuffled around with their recorders and cameras as Tony stepped up to the podium, motioned to Rhodey, and pulled out the blue notecards. He scanned the crowd, feeling his palms sweat. Here we go. "Been a while since I was in front of you," Tony began, testing the waters, "I figured I'll stick to the cards this time."

A polite chuckle rippled through the crowd. Good, great. Just don't mess this up.

He continued, "There's been speculation that I was involved in the events that occurred on the freeway and the rooftop of –"

One slender hand found its way into Tony's line of sight, and his eyes followed it down to the smug face of – what was her name? Carrie? Kristy?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," she apologized, "but do you honestly expect us to believe that that was a bodyguard in a suit? That conveniently appeared, despite the fact you had –"

"I know that it's confusing. It is one thing to question if it's a true story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate, that I'm a – a superhero."

"I never said you were a superhero."

"Didn't?" Keep your cool, Tones, he thought to himself. "Well good, because that would be outlandish and, uh, fantastic…" He looked down. The cards were warm now between is fingers. Tony exhaled and stuttered out, "I-I'm just not the hero type, clearly. With this, uh… laundry list of character defects and all the mistakes I've made, largely… public."

From the corner of his eye, Tony saw Rhodey pause and slowly take a step closer. He leaned up beside Tony, whispering, "Just stick to the cards." When he pulled back, they made eyes, and Tony definitely got the message.

He raised the cards up in front of him again, preparing himself to read it verbatim. Party yacht with fifty attendees. Security guard provided with the suit mechanism. The press might just eat this right up. What did Coulson say? 'Soon this will all be behind you.'

"The truth is…"

Cameras flashed. The room was quiet, everyone sitting in anticipation for his statement. For a few moments, his world stood still, and Tony was able to really hear himself think. He thought about the adrenaline rush when he flew into the skies. He thought about the absolute feeling of power in his hands. He thought about the good he had done – could do – with the suit.

Tony looked away from the cards. He thought about being able to prove everyone wrong that said he couldn't amount to anything. Obadiah. His father. And frankly, he didn't want to put everything behind him. He was a fucking superhero.

With four words, ten letters, Tony's life changed forever: "I am Iron Man."

A/N: I'm so sorry that chapters have been really slow (and that it's been a hot minute since I've uploaded). School is finally over so I plan to update more frequently during break. Please leave a kudos and a comment if you have any feedback!