A big thank you to the reviewers, Terri'smind, Pickles, Kae Richa, DoublePaws, and a Guest reviewer! Your inspiring words make me smile every time I see them. And sorry for not putting up the thank you notes last week, I had to rush things a little because of stupid Nazi Joe.

Disclaimer: I own nothing under copyright.


Chapter 4: Happy Birthday (My Olde Friend)

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!"

Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967

In a hospital in Monaco, Tony watched Steve receive treatment for the burns he incurred during the fight at the racetrack. His own had been negligible enough to just get away with a couple of butterfly bandages. Thank everything for the Iron Man suit.

On the other hand, Steve had been burned nearly to the bone by the combination of the whip itself and the electricity flowing through it. Miraculously, the arm hadn't just come off. Seriously, considering that the thing had sliced a goddamned car in half.

The doctor discharged Steve into Tony's care with instructions to get the injury rechecked by his own doctor the moment he got stateside. Some medication was prescribed, but both men knew it was a waste of paper. On the way out, Steve tossed it in the rubbish with his good hand.

Tony had sent Pepper and Natalie ahead to the States to get a press release going about how he totally wasn't Iron Man and the actual guy was on vacation. It would probably help to allow more pictures of JARVIS piloting the suit while he did stuff.

"Why'd you do that, Steve?" he asked once they were in the car. He leaned back on the plush leather seat with a sigh, too damn tired for this time of day.

"Medication doesn't exactly work on me," Steve replied dryly. He cradled his injured arm close, lips thinning whenever they went over a particularly rocky stretch of road.

"Take it easy on the potholes, Happy. No, I mean… Why'd you take him on like that? You didn't even have your shield," Tony clarified. It had bugged him ever since he saw what took the maniac's attention off him. He was sure his heart stopped when he saw that distinctive frame shielding him against fucking power whips, not a weapon in sight.

This time the response was serious. "I couldn't stand by and watch him kill you," Steve replied, like Tony was crazy for wondering.

"You'd have to have run the whole way from the Hotel de Paris unless you got Happy to drive you, which I know you didn't, and hope you were even on the right part of the track. I think that's a little extreme even for you, Spangles," Tony told him. Seriously, it was the last thing he expected and more than he ever would have asked. He would have been fine by himself… Kind of. Maybe.

More vulnerable than Tony had seen him in a long time, Steve shrugged and mumbled, "You're all I've got anymore."

Looking at it, Tony supposed he was right. Everyone that the other man knew was either dead or ancient now. "You and Pepper are all I have too," he agreed.

They sat in comfortable, intimate silence for a while. Too intimate.

"You want to come in with me to talk to the guy?" Tony asked as they arrived in front of the police station.

Steve nodded jerkily. He climbed out of the car with some difficulty, hissing when he accidentally put pressure on his injured arm in an attempt to get to his feet. When Tony caught him, he smiled in thanks.

The moment they entered the building, the police were all over them. There were questions about pressing charges, getting their statements, and more. The statements were taken care of quickly ("He wrecked my car, I crawled out, Pepper threw me the Iron Man suit, and I kicked his ass. Done deal,") and then they were off to see the weirdo who decided to ruin their vacation.

It shouldn't have been quite so surprising, or so much of a turn-on, for Steve to speak French right back to the officials. "No record of him, no responses, might not even speak English," the super soldier reported grimly. No matter that Tony actually did know French, and fairly well, he was perfectly willing to let the officials be translated by someone who could make a telephone directory sound scrumptious.

"Think you'll be okay in there? You can wait outside if you want to," Tony offered.

Steve refused to stay behind, injured or no. "I can handle it," he answered with a cutting glare.

With a shrug, Tony slipped in the door when it was open.

The big blonde followed, and the door closed directly after. They didn't want to take a chance on this guy getting out. Good.

While Steve leaned against the wall by the door, Tony knew that to get something sometimes you had to give something. He began talking tech, suggesting that what this guy had pulled out of his ass was okay if not up to standard. Then he got to the real question of motive. "You could've made a decent paycheck if you did a little fine tuning, sold it to North Korea, China, Iran, or gone straight to the black market," he commented, "You look like you've got friends in low places."

The guy really did. This close and cleaned up, he looked to be a little older than Tony with grey invading dark hair and lines firmly established on his face. The tattoos looked like prison ink and from the symbols used, probably Slavic.

"You come from a family of thieves and butchers," the man said, his Russian accent heavy, "And now, like all guilty men, try to rewrite your own history and you forget all the lives Stark family has destroyed." Oh boy, one of those revenge people. Great.

"Speaking of thieves, where did you get this design?" Tony shot back.

"My father, Anton Vanko," the man replied, as if they should know who that was.

"Well I've never heard of him," Tony replied.

"My father is the reason you're alive," the Russian, Vanko, told him with what could almost be called earnestness.

"The reason I'm alive is because you had a shot, you took it, and you missed," Tony said, quick fire like the weapons he used to make.

Vanko looked over his shoulder and grinned at Steve, exposing a gold tooth. "No, I think he might be the reason you are alive," he refuted, "How is the arm?" He sounded honestly curious.

In answer, Steve held up the bandages. "Healing."

"You say I missed my shot," Vanko said, like he knew something they didn't, "Did I? If you make god bleed, people will cease to believe in him. And there will be blood in the water, and the sharks will come. The truth is, all I have to do is sit and watch as the world will consume you."

The noise Steve made was angry. "Not if I have anything to say about it," he said strongly.

On the same note, Tony nearly smirked. "Where will you be watching the world consume me from? That's right. A prison cell," he pointed out, "I'll send you a bar of soap." He got up to leave, having got all the information he needed for now.

"Hey, Tony, before you go," Vanko said as Tony reached the door, "Palladium in the chest, painful way to die."

For a moment, Tony froze.

"What?" Steve hissed, voice deadly.

All Vanko did was chuckle and shake his head. He wouldn't be giving any more answers today.

Tony opened the door and the Americans left the cell. Their five minutes was up. Much more would just drive one or the other of them batty anyways.

On their way out, there was tense silence as they thought about their encounter with Vanko.

"He's crazy as an outhouse rat, but he's not stupid. He's got something up his sleeve," Steve said with a grimace. The phrasing was quaint, colloquial, and entirely unfitting of his tux and serious demeanor.

Unable to refute that, Tony made a mental note to install a bug in the system and keep an eye on their Russian friend. If Cap had a bad feeling, it was probably right. The man's instincts were legendary.

It wasn't until they got to the car that Steve brought up Vanko's words. "What did he mean?"

Luckily Tony was a master of looking unconcerned when really he was panicking. "Exactly what he said," the genius answered flippantly.

The bitchface Steve gave him could have given Sam Winchester a run for his money. "I need a better explanation than that," he said, sharp blue eyes analyzing the man beside him. He was visibly putting the pieces together, trying to comprehend all the little things he noticed that were just starting to add up.

It was the last thing Tony wanted to talk about. He knew his friend wouldn't leave it alone, though, not until he had what he wanted. "What do you want to hear? That the very thing keeping me alive is killing me?" he snapped.

"But how-" Steve started to question, leaning in to emphasize his need to know.

"Don't," Tony said coldly, "Just don't. Not like you'd understand the science behind it anyways." He knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Today was hitting him in all the soft squishy places he had left. He couldn't deal with it right now.

Steve's lips went thin and he regretted it immediately. "Fine," the super soldier returned just as coldly, and turned to look out the car window instead of at his companion.

Pretending it didn't matter to him, Tony did the same. He ignored the aching, hollow feeling in his chest like he had for decades before Steve came along with his shy smiles and good cooking and fantastic butt. Fooling himself was second nature by now.

They stayed like that for the rest of the ride to the airport. Not even getting there and busying themselves with the bags helped dispel the heavy clouds that hung over them.

The plane ride home could nearly have been called peaceful. The men all did their own thing; Tony designed on his tablet, Steve drew, and Happy finally got some sleep. It had been a hard few days. In the middle of it the bandages were removed from Cap's arm and by the time they hit the tarmac, there wasn't even a scar.

Only the tension in the cabin, even with Happy's quiet snoring, kept it from being comfortable. Too much to be said and no words for it all. It would probably end in a fight if they tried, Tony thought as he watched the hunched outline of Steve's shoulders and the tense motions of his hand.

It didn't let up when they got back, or for days after. They would sit in his lab and dig ever further into Howard's notes, but the air was suffocating. Every time one of them moved the other tensed up and couldn't tear their eyes away, no matter how neither of them really wanted this.

Admittedly, this may have been part of why Tony's birthday party became a disaster. He couldn't take another day of this tension, it felt like he would snap in half the next time Steve looked at him. The emotions in his eyes were too heavy, too numerous, to bear.

So the chance to lose himself in a crowd once again, even if it was a crowd of people he couldn't care less about, was taken gladly. He went from one person to the next, displaying a glittering personality he really didn't feel, to get away from the one person he wanted to be around and yet couldn't stand. So he did the most reasonable thing a dying man in this situation could do: he got drunk and donned the Iron Man suit.

It didn't escape his notice that Steve disappeared halfway through the party. Tony refused to think about why he noticed and why he hated it.


Rhodey had known Tony Stark for a long time, and he had never seen the man quite like this. He had always been reckless and irresponsible, but if nothing else he had made sure that no one in the vicinity got hurt. Now, he didn't seem to care.

This was the guy he was risking everything for, Rhodey thought in disgust as he watched his friend clown around on the stage. Why did he do this, time after time?

Because their friendship was worth it. They each had very few people in their lives who cared and they clung to each other all the more. But this was pushing boundaries he didn't even know he had.

Finding Pepper was easy. She was near the back of the crowd, looking more horrified by the second at their friend's antics. That is, when she wasn't frantically looking around for someone. When she saw Rhodey her face lit up, but immediately she went back to looking.

"This is ridiculous," Rhodey hissed into her ear, "I just got done sticking my neck out for this guy!" He wouldn't say that it made this hurt even more to watch. They needed to get Tony under control, now.

Pepper held him back from approaching the stage. "Let me, I'll handle it. You find Steve," she told him in a low voice, eyes still darting around.

"Steve?" Rhodey hadn't heard that name before and was immediately on guard.

"Tall, blonde, obscenely handsome. He might be the only one able to handle Tony if this goes any further downhill," Pepper described the man vaguely before she slipped through the crowd. On stage, she took the microphone and released a phony sounding laugh and tried to tell the crowd that the party was over.

"She's right, you know," Tony said bluntly, "This party was over for me like an hour ago." Oh no, it was never good when he agreed with Pepper on something.

Rhodey tensed up and tried to keep an eye out for someone matching the description Pepper gave, but that could have been any number of the guests.

"But the after-party starts in fifteen minutes!" Tony shouted, to a cheer from the crowd.

Time for Rhodey to do something. There wasn't much he could do as himself, but maybe… He knew Tony had more suits than the one he was wearing.

Not even trying to be subtle about it, Rhodey stormed to the stairs that led down to the lab. He punched in his code and walked in, but froze. Someone was already in here.

The man turned around to see who had come in and immediately Rhodey knew that this was who Pepper meant. While any number of people upstairs could be called obscenely handsome, this man was a Michaelangelo brought to life. No wonder Pepper described him the way she did. He was in the gossip column a while go with her, and before that, Iron Man. But why was he in the lab, and how?

"Colonel Rhodes," Steve stated with a grimace, "Did Pepper send you to find me?" He seemed awfully certain.

"Steve?" Rhodey asked, just to be sure.

"Captain Steven Rogers," the man responded, holding out a hand to shake. The other was still elbow deep in a crate.

The grip was firm but not too tight. "Yeah, Pepper asked me to keep an eye out for you. Said you were probably the only one able to handle Tony if she failed," Rhodey answered.

The volume upstairs was loud enough to make the ceiling vibrate.

"Doesn't sound like she succeeded," Captain Rogers said with the look of someone going to war.

"What's your plan?" Rhodey asked immediately. He needed to be able to form a backup plan if Captain Rogers failed too.

"He isn't listening to reason from anyone," that meant he had tried earlier, "That doesn't leave me many other options." He pulled his arm from the crate with some metal do-dad or another and tossed it onto a table. Instead of messing with it more, he went to the sofa in the corner and pulled something round from between the wall and the arm.

Rhodey couldn't help staring. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked blankly. Every kid knew those red and white concentric circles around a white star and blue field. It was impossible though.

"If you think it's a vibranium shield, you're correct," Captain Rogers answered with an unhappy smile at him, "Might be the only thing able to make Tony see sense."

"Does that mean you're…" Rhodey wasn't sure how much more his brain could take this evening before it overloaded.

"Do you have a problem with it?" Captain America asked expectantly as he pulled the shield's straps over his forearm with practiced ease.

"No, not at all, just… thought you weren't real," Rhodey muttered before he shook himself out of his stupor. Now wasn't the time for it; if anything the music had only gotten louder. And was that shattering glass? Shit.

"Then get in the suit," the Captain told him, pointing to the further of two.

It was easy enough, Rhodey had watched the first few tests of the full suit. Having it assembled around him was a whole different experience, closing him in but providing a cocoon of protection. Was this how Iron Man felt? He could see why the man would be content to pilot from the shadows.

When the cameras activated, it was in time to see the Captain's devastated face before he got his composed mask back up. "Let's go," he said, and strode out the door.

It felt strange, walking but knowing that he wasn't the one moving himself. "Yes sir," Rhodey agreed, steeling himself. Hopefully they could get Tony to stop the idiocy without coming to blows. He already knew that wouldn't work.

"Call me Steve," the Captain told him as they climbed the stairs.

"Rhodey, then," he said back. It was surreal.

"I think for tonight's purposes, it might work a little better if you were Iron Man," Steve told him, and they were suddenly in the party.

Half the room was already wrecked and several people were covered in some kind of pinkish chunks that Rhodey prayed weren't brains. From the delight still radiating through the crowd it wasn't, but that was the only good news. Tony was still on stage, in the suit, and hadn't seemed to notice them yet.

"Tony! Stand down!" Steve shouted over the din.

The music suddenly cut off and the people parted like the Red Sea. Whispers and attempts at whispers broke out as everyone stared at the two newcomers, armed to the teeth. Only Pepper seemed relieved, her shoulders slumping and eyes closing with emotion.

"Cap! Iron Man! Here to join me?" Tony seemed perfectly happy. He was fucking miserable.

"The party's over people. Clear out," Steve ordered. When no one moved, he added a sharp, "Now," and there was a sudden stampede for the doors.

Rhodey and Steve weren't so much as touched, the whole room afraid. Even Rhodey felt dangerous, and he knew that if Tony didn't see sense right now he would be.

"Let's put the suits and the shield away, and we can talk about this," Steve tried.

Tony looked like he was thinking about it. Except that Rhodey knew he wasn't, the expression was too deliberate.

"Take off the suit," Rhodey repeated firmly.

"Make me," Tony challenged. The helmet folded over his head and then it was on.

The first hit was scored by Rhodey, hard enough to knock Tony back. Then he got hit back, straight into a wall. Amazingly, the Colonel was barely dazed by it and able to get to his feet in time to intercept a metal fist headed straight for his face. The men in the suits fought, rolling and wrestling and punching, until it seemed like Tony was about to go too far, damage something even he couldn't repair, as he knocked Rhodey straight through a concrete wall.

That was when Steve finally jumped in. The screen of Rhodey's armor went on the fritz for only a few seconds, but it was enough time for Captain America to get from guarding the doors to bringing the edge of his shield down on Iron Man's shoulder. His face was contorted with pain as he scored a hit.

Tony turned around faster than he should have been able to and brought his arm in for a punch straight to the face-

And Steve caught it. His arm trembled with the effort of holding back the superior strength of the armor, but he leaned into it held his ground. "Tony, stop this right now," he ordered.

"What, a man can't defend himself?" the metalized voice responded mockingly. Tony swung the arm that was being held onto and sent Steve flying through a window.

Combined with everything else that had happened that evening, seeing an American icon treated in such a way was the straw that broke the camel's back. "You're not worthy to wear the suit!" Rhodey shouted and shot up to lay a beatdown on his friend.

This time Tony wasn't able to keep up with the flurry of blows. In short order he was slammed into the fireplace and groaned, head lolling to the side.

Rhodey was tempted to make absolutely sure that Tony wouldn't get up anytime soon (maybe then he wouldn't pull this kind of stupid shit) but instead shook his head and took a few steps back. "You know what? I'm done," he said, not even angry anymore.

As he flew off, ignoring Steve's calls for him to come back, Rhodey felt tears pricking behind his eyes. He blinked rapidly to push them back. Piloting this thing required being able to see.

All he could do was hope that they could repair this later. Whenever Tony pulled his head out of his ass.


Tony had forgotten how much of a beat-down these suits could lay on a man, even unarmed. He coughed and contented himself with laying in the rubble of the fireplace for the moment. The idea of moving hurt.

"Oh, Tony…" Steve was still here? Why hadn't he gone with Rhodey?

It was easier to pretend that Rhodey had knocked him out. Tony stayed still, eyes closed and so, so tired of it all. Vanko had been right when he said that palladium in the chest was a painful way to die.

"What were you thinking?" Steve muttered, probably to himself, closer than he should have been.

Mentally, Tony answered the question: he was thinking that he was keeping his best friends safe and provided for. A suit was biometrically attuned to each of them. No one else could use them, keeping Rhodey necessary to the military and the technology from being used for terrible things.

That way Steve would still be able to fly after Tony was gone.

In that moment, Tony felt more vulnerable and alone than ever. He was well on his way to see if Dante was right about hell, had alienated his longest standing friends, and the one person that he really wanted to leave had stayed. Steve hadn't taken the bait and followed Rhodey to the military like he was supposed to; there was still someone there for Tony's death to hurt.

His head was lifted up and set on something. When Tony looked at the HUD, he was looking straight up at Steve's sad face. He looked like someone had just shot his dog.

"How do you take this thing off?" Steve asked quietly. He tugged at the bottom of the helmet just enough to test it.

"Here." Tony set the big fingers in the right grooves and pressed them in. The seal clicked and he took a deep breath, preparing his mask.

An icy hand carefully caught the back of his head as the helmet was removed. The kind gesture made something in his chest ache.

Steve wasn't supposed to be in a broken mansion letting a dying asshole ruin him.

"Why'd you do that?" Steve asked, and it felt like his chest caved in to see tears starting in those big blue eyes, "You're so stupid, Tony. Why'd you do that, huh?" The inventor couldn't even make fun of him for almost directly quoting Titanic.

"You forget how much of an asshole I am," Tony replied dryly. Between the alcohol, the fight, and the poison, he was so tired… And comfortable, even inside the Iron Man armor. Steve's leg might be the same temperature as tap water and hard as cement, but it was him and that alone made it comfortable.

The laugh Steve gave sounded closer to a sob. "You really are," he agreed.

They stayed like that until Steve finally decided that they needed to get into something other than their disgusting, sweaty clothes. Tony didn't argue as he was picked up and supported on their way to the only bedroom that wasn't destroyed. No, he gratefully pulled the emergency release lever and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower.

If it weren't for Steve's prudery and his own tiredness, he'd suggest that they save water and shower together. As it was, he sighed in relief as hot water soothed his aching muscles. Today had gone exactly as planned- except for Steve.

Tony let out a bitter laugh. Why was the kink in his plans always named Steve fucking Rogers?

Every time he thought about it, the man was the bane of Tony's attempts to plan. He couldn't be accounted for. Steve always knew more than he should have and there was never any being sure what he was or wasn't aware of. It made him unpredictable.

The only unpredictability Tony liked was his own.

If Steve was impossible to plan around, he would just improvise. Good thing that was a specialty, Tony thought grimly. He turned off the water and stepped out.

All protests and blustering from the hot super soldier were ignored in favor of walking out and collapsing onto the bed in just his towel. If Steve didn't like it, too bad. He could sleep on the floor. (Tony really hoped he didn't.)

The door closed and the water started. It was soothing already, but when Steve started singing something Tony didn't recognize, it became the stuff of dreams. His voice was deep and the tune slow.

"It's still the same old story, a fight for love and glory, a case of do or die…"

Tony smiled as he drifted to sleep.