Bruce reviewed the myriad of assays on the bench in the wet lab then turned back to the whiteboard. He and the other scientists had scribbled possible formulas all over it.
"Bruce," an assistant called, walking up to the group surrounding the board. "I have the data from the last test. Here."
"Let me see." Banner studied the graphs for a few moments as he mentally ran through the calculations before passing it to one of his colleagues. "It must be that formula there," he concluded, pointing to the upper right corner of the board.
"I think we should run it through the spec one more time to be sure," one of the techs advised.
"Only one of our predictions fits this data. We should move on to start studying the effects of the compound," a post-doc said.
"Jamie's right: run it again to be sure," Bruce directed. "In the mean time, Donna and Kelechi, you two can start isolating more of this from the blood samples. I want the rest of you to put your heads together and write up experiment ideas to start testing this compound, okay? I'm going to take this back to Stark."
After a few clarification questions and nods of agreement, Bruce headed to the other side of the building toward the engineering lab. It had been seven and a half days since the kidnapping. Banner was well-aware of the team's increasing feelings of despair, but he was hoping that this would lead to something.
Arriving at the doors to Stark's lab, Bruce punched in the security code. "Tony!" Stark spun around in his chair as his friend approached. Even from quite a few feet away, the bags under his eyes were evident. "Tony, we have the formula for the poison," Bruce informed. He handed Tony his notepad on which he scrawled the formula.
Immediately, Tony's entire demeanor changed. Re-energized by the promising lead, he got to his feet to probe, "Well, what is it?"
"It's not something I recognize. The coordination complex contains radioactive palladium though."
"Palladium?" Tony knew metals, so of course he knew that palladium was very rare.
"Yeah. We might be dealing with a pretty wealthy guy here." Bruce noted. "That stuff isn't cheap, and he's making complex compounds out of it."
Tony nodded. "It can't be that difficult to find someone buying this in bulk." Then, turning to his computer screen, he commanded, "FRIDAY, show me all the sources of palladium."
It soon became clear that no one was buying palladium in bulk.
"I thought we were getting somewhere," Tony grumbled.
Pepper could see the anger in his eyes as he moved around the kitchen.
"I mean, where the hell do you get all that metal without being detected?" He dumped some coffee grounds into the reusable filter cup without really measuring it and smacked the lid of the Keurig down.
"Tony," Pepper said calmly.
Not hearing her, he only continued, "Is there an underground dealer or something?"
Just as he was about to press the button to brew his coffee, Pepper reached over to stop his hand. "Tony. It's after one in the morning. You don't need more coffee."
Tony sighed and placed his hands flat on the counter to lean against it. He hung his head and closed his eyes. "Fine."
He left his mug on the counter as he crossed the room to the liquor cabinet.
"Tony," Pepper said, disapproval in her voice. She crossed her arms and directed her frown at her partner.
This time, he heard her but chose to ignore her. He took out a bottle of whiskey and walked past Pepper to find a glass in one of the cabinets. Grabbing one, he slammed it on the counter and filled it.
"Please, just come to bed," Pepper pleaded. He was exhausted, and it was obvious.
Lifting his glass and turning to face her, Tony argued, "How can I sleep, knowing that my friends could be dying right now?"
He threw back the shot and filled it again.
Pepper tried to interrupt his monologue. "Tone‒"
"How can I sleep, knowing that a teenager is missing because of me?!" He continued over her.
Knocking the second back, he poured a third.
"We shouldn't have gone in there. It was my fault."
When he finished the third glass, Pepper slowly backed away. She was not prepared to take on a raging, drunk Tony Stark.
"It was a trap, and I should've known," he yelled. On his way to fill the glass again, his hand missed and, instead of bringing it down onto the counter, the glass shattered on the floor. "Why don't you all care?!"
"FRIDAY," Pepper addressed quietly as she watched Tony reach for a new glass from the cabinet. "Call Rhodes. Tell him it's urgent."
It was around three o'clock when Pepper and Rhodey sat down on the couch in the living room. Shortly after Rhodey had arrived, Tony collapsed in a heap onto the floor, littered with glass shards, and he held his face in his hands to cover the tears that threatened to fall. Rhodey had to practically carry him to his bed.
"He thinks we don't care," Pepper whispered to break their silence.
Rhodey shook his head. "Of course we care and you know that. He's just taking it more personally."
Pepper nodded. "He feels responsible, especially for Peter."
"Yeah, and he's probably thinking that the kid is going through an experience similar to his in Afghanistan."
When neither said anything after a while, Pepper suggested, "Let's clean up the glass in the kitchen and get to bed."