Thank you so much for your patience with me! My first week of work just ended and man, I'm wiped out. But you've all been so good to me. So I decided you need another chapter, pronto pup.

And to the reviewers, Zenoneel-Sarior, PickledCucumbers, DoublePaws, Kae Richa, and a Guest: you're all spectacular.

Zenoneel-Sarior: That's actually a good question. I think he came into this oblivious, but now he's getting clues about what happened and t's all adding up in his mind... Though of course, he's gotta work through his denial and "science says it's impossible" to see it. I'm taking blatant advantage of that, as you can see.

Guest: I try to keep it to once a week, but sometimes life just gangs up on you, ya know?

Disclaimer: I own nothing under copyright.


Chapter 11: Emotional Bankruptcy

"The trouble with having an open mind, of course, is that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it."

Terry Pratchett, Diggers

For the first time, Tony didn't feel safe crawling into Steve's bed after a nightmare. No, images danced before his eyes of Bucky Barnes blasting open the chest of a man who looked just like him while Captain America looked impassively on. Combined with the other nightmares, it was the tipping point.

Despite many opinions to the contrary, Tony was self aware enough to know that he had PTSD and he had it bad. He'd been dealing with it since Stane's betrayal. No, before that. Since Afghanistan. Maybe even before that.

The nightmares used to be bearable, of waterboarding and Yinsen's death and Stane's face smiling down as he took the life right out of Tony's chest. Then the pain of the poisoning and leaving Steve all alone in an unfamiliar world was added on. Now, he had the blackness of space and the coldness of Steve's face as he watched a man get murdered by his best friend. It was too much.

Every time someone came within five feet he was aware of them, every time they were behind his back he would jump. His heart would race in instinctual terror whenever anyone came too close to his chest. Even (especially) Steve now. He couldn't sleep, his emotions were out of whack, and despair was taking over.

It wasn't a surprise that Tony decided that was the night to drink himself into oblivion.

It wasn't a surprise when he blacked out around four in the morning.

It was a surprise, even to him, when he woke up in bed feeling like he'd been hit in the chest with a semi truck.

He groaned and wondered absently what he did this time. Was it alcohol poisoning? He bet it was alcohol poisoning.

"Tony? Are you awake?" Steve asked hopefully.

The only reason Tony didn't jump was because he was still too sluggish. Instead he turned his head to face the super soldier at his bedside, and wished he hadn't.

Steve's eyes were red and puffy, and his nose could have gotten him nicknamed Rudolph. He was hunched over, resting his head on his arms by Tony's hip, the rest of him precariously perched on an uncomfortable looking folding chair. From how his back cracked when he sat up, he had been in that position a while.

It was hard to decide whether Tony wanted him there or not. "What happened?" he croaked.

"You don't remember?" Steve questioned. He got up and poured a glass of water and then offered it with a straw.

Water was good, Tony decided. It gave him time to try and remember what the hell happened last night. Nothing but booze and blacking out came to mind.

"I came into the kitchen to get a snack before my run, and I found you on the floor with your arc reactor out," Steve told him, heart breaking vulnerability in his voice, "You were giggling at it."

That was worse than Tony thought. "Why the fuck was I doing that?" he asked no one in particular. He had his moments of drunken brilliance, but they were paid for by hours of stupidity like this. (Actually this was the worst one yet, but he wasn't going to say that.)

Steve let out a nearly hysterical laugh. "I was hoping you would know," he said, sitting back down on the chair, "After I put it back in JARVIS said that it had only been out thirty seconds and you wouldn't need a hospital, so I carried you in here and kept an eye on you." He blinked rapidly, and please say those weren't tears welling up. Please.

"Thanks, big guy, but I think I'm fine," Tony said, waving him off. Turmoil pummeled him. He felt safe with Steve still, but knew he shouldn't. It was wreaking havoc and he needed to sort it out before anything else stupid happened.

"I had to tell Pepper when she called about today's board meeting," Steve said. It was a death sentence if Tony had ever heard one.

Again, the genius groaned. He'd never be able to live this down. "She's the only one that knows, right?" he asked hopefully.

"The team thinks you're sleeping off your hangover," Steve answered satisfactorily.

"I would say you're the best, but you told Pepper," Tony said dryly. While he would have gotten yelled at later about missing yet another important meeting because of his alcoholism, he could live with that. Instead there was going to be a crying Pepper yelling at him for being stupid, and why didn't he just talk to that therapist already?

"I think I can live with that," Steve said with a smile. It made him unbearable to look at, happy and sad at the same time with soft light from the gap in the curtains outlining him like some kind of damn angel.

Thankfully, Pepper stormed in right then. "I can't believe you, Tony!" she shouted, but it was obvious to him that she was more afraid than angry, "Why did you do something stupid like that!" She yelled for a good few minutes, Steve nodding emphatically along, before she let out a sob.

"Pepper, Pepper, please don't do that," Tony tried, but gave up when he only got another sob. If there was a worse thing than Pepper crying over him, he wasn't aware of it.

Not even Steve's accusing look was that bad. It was like he had kicked a puppy or cussed at the elderly or something similarly unpatriotic.

Neither of them seemed to accept that he didn't remember even thinking about taking out the arc reactor, never mind actually doing it. Instead Pepper told them to get the alcohol out of the tower. That was rapidly agreed on. Even though Tony knew he would hate being a forced tee-totaler soon enough.

Steve's suggestion was strange but enticing, putting locks on the arc reactor so that Tony couldn't take it out by himself. Where he got that idea, the genius wasn't sure about. It did seem like an effective countermeasure however, so he promised to investigate ways of doing that.

The enthusiastic agreement Pepper gave sealed the deal.

It would be a good idea even without this setback, Tony thought. Such a thing would have bought enough time for the paralysis to wear off when Stane got to him. It wouldn't have done anything good for the palladium poisoning, but that wasn't an issue anymore. Now if someone wanted to take out his arc reactor, they would have to get a damn locksmith.

Until he built the new arc reactor, Tony was restricted from alcohol. He pretended not to notice the little pow-wow Steve and Pepper had right outside the door, or that afterward the all-American hero used every excuse he could find to be attached at the hip to Tony. Combined with the lingering paranoia that Nat's research had provided him with, and his own unrequited feelings, it was hell.

Especially spending the night with Steve wrapped tightly around him again because the super soldier would always find an excuse to stay and fall asleep wherever Tony was. Every single time he managed to wriggle out of that iron grip to go to the workshop, the super soldier looked like he was in pain as he searched for the warmth he was used to. It only made the excuses to stay late in the workshop more numerous. Tony didn't want to see that look more than he had to.

Besides, he had to figure out how to work the locks on the new arc reactor. That was where that old piece of junk from his dad's crates came in handy. It must have been the inspiration for the huge arc reactor that had powered the weapons plant, he thought upon examining it. But it was the sides that interested him, with the intricately interlocking gears. Those could very easily have been locks to keep it in place.

When he ran it through JARVIS's scanners, his breath was taken away. It was an arc reactor almost exactly like the one in his chest. Except that he was right and the edges had locks. There was no damage to the gears. That implied that it had been removed by someone who knew the combination.

It was enough to inspire Tony. He worked on his version for days on end, until he had a new arc reactor and the wall along with it. If it was an exact copy of the smashed one, he ignored the coincidence.

Contacting a medical professional was one of the hardest things Tony had ever done. Under oaths of silence he discussed with a surgeon the problem of the arc reactor wall and how to go about replacing it with the new one he had built. It would be a risky procedure, she warned him, and require the disconnection of the magnet for a few precious seconds in order to replace it.

Not for the first time, Tony wished that Yensin was still alive. He helped build this damn thing, so he would be the most qualified to deal with it. And he would never tell a soul. That part was up in the air with Dr Benson, despite contracts and the threat of lawsuits up the wazoo.

It was the best he could do. Even as he stayed up worrying about it all night, he had to acknowledge that much.

When Tony went under the knife, he was actually grateful to see Steve and Pepper looking at him from the observation room. He knew the drugs were working when he didn't feel any worry about Pepper, just surety that they would both be fine. Trust in her and Steve.

The last thing he saw before the drugs pulled him under was a burning, hopeful blue gaze.

Instinctively he connected that with safety, and drifted off with a little smile.

After that, Tony felt more secure than he had in a long time. While he was still wary of Steve, he was more willing to listen to his instincts now. The ones that said the only danger around the super soldier was to anyone trying to attack Tony.

That was proven by the first situation the Avengers faced since Thor and Loki left.

It was just robots, and clunky half useless ones at that. They were still too much for the police, so the newly formed Avengers got called in.

To even their surprise, they worked extremely well together. They were missing Thor, but that was fine. Steve's plan negated that one of their heaviest hitters was off-world at the moment.

What ended up happening was that Steve stationed the spies on the roofs at either side of an alley. He then had the Hulk and Iron Man herd the robots toward him at the other end of the narrow space, trapping them in single file. It was a massacre on the robots' side after that.

Even when one got in a lucky shot at Iron Man, it was destroyed by the shield in seconds. There wasn't another chance for any other robot. If Tony wasn't shooting them, the Hulk was smashing with more rage than before and the Capsicle was crushing them with impunity.

"These things are so stupid," Clint complained from the right side rooftop.

"If they make me late to bingo, I'm not going to be happy," Steve echoed.

Tony couldn't help cackling at the old man joke.

"Where's Steve and what did you do to him?" Nat asked from the roof opposite the archer.

Steve's response wasn't unexpected, but it was amusing: "You're the one who tried trading me in at an antiques mall! I'm just playing along!" The way he bashed robots left and right proved that he was no old man.

As the whole thing was close enough to done and over with, Tony didn't feel bad about stopping to leer at the Captain. Damn, Coulson did good on that costume design. "I don't know about you guys, but I'd pay top dollar for him," he joked, "No matter how old he is." That wasn't even an exaggeration.

It was a shame the mask covered up Steve's ears. It was one of the few ways to know if he was blushing.

"Who knows, you might get the chance one of these days," Clint snorted as he finished off the last of the robots with an explosive arrow.

Everybody made to go home, but there was a sudden beep. Then another. More and more started, and Tony swore when he realized what it was. "Explosives! Everybody run!" he shouted into the comms.

It was too late, the blasts started going off one after another. The first was right below Tony and took him out of the sky. With a groan, he shook himself and struggled to his hands and knees. The hydraulics of the suit were down, he was moving it by muscle power.

A second blast rocked the buildings on either side of the alley. They wouldn't hold, Tony realized with horror. A third would bring them both down, right on top of him and Steve. "Get out of here!" he shouted at Cap, working to get to his feet.

Instead the idiot ran toward him. Vaulting over broken robots, jumping over chunks of pavement, he dove for Tony just as the third explosion went off.

The walls on either side of them crumbled and suddenly Tony was grateful for the indestructible shield and almost indestructible body between him and the rubble. It was a horrible thing to think. Even as the screen blacked out from the building falling on them, he realized that this would hurt the other man. He didn't have any real armor, just leather and kevlar.

With each additional pound on top of them, Steve hissed and was forced to crouch lower. It was soon too dark under it all to see his face.

"Iron Man, Captain, are you alright?" he heard Clint ask over the comms.

The voice in the dark kept Tony from panicking like total darkness usually did. "I'm fine. The suit's holding up," he said, struggling to keep his composure.

"And Cap?" Clint asked again, concern growing in his voice.

"Just peachy," Steve gritted out. Hearing his voice made Tony's legs go weak with relief.

Rubble shifted around them and some noise indicated that it was being moved. "We're starting to dig you out. The Hulk isn't happy you're trapped," Nat reported grimly.

"Good, good. I really want to get out of here. Like, now," Tony chattered.

"Keep talking, guys," Clint encouraged.

And they did. Mostly Tony, since he had the suit and its advanced filtration systems, but every now and again Steve would put in a word. Only that and his vital spots not being crushed let Tony know the Cap was even alive.

Not that much had a chance of killing the world's first superhero, he thought with a wave of affection that took him by surprise. If smashing into ice at five thousand miles per hour, then going without air for seventy years didn't get him, how could a mere building? Especially with his trusty shield over him.

That Steve had taken this kind of a risk, for him, both took Tony by surprise and made him want to smack himself. His wariness didn't allow him to feel completely sure of his protector. The situation, and that this wasn't the first time Steve had put him before anything else, sneaked the feeling in.

And yet Tony couldn't help giggling.

"I think Iron Man's going a little crazy," Steve reported dryly.

"No no, not crazy," Tony disputed cheerfully, "Well, not more than I already was." Which was in itself a subject that could tie medical professionals up for years.

"Then why are you laughing?" Nat asked over the comms.

In response, Tony reached up with the one hand that wasn't trapped. Just in case the sensors were lying to him. The equipment in his gauntlet registered a human body, and he made a mental note to put the team's general characteristics into the program to better identify them and whether they were alive. Steve's unusual body temperature (68.24 Fahrenheit now, he was getting warmer by the day) was fooling it into thinking he was a corpse.

Steve let out an unmanly squeak when the gauntlet moved downward over his absolutely fabulous butt. When it went down the outside of his thigh to the ground, he seemed to relax a little. As much as he could while supporting who knows how much rubble, at any rate.

"Um, Iron Man? What's going on? Should we keep digging or leave you to… whatever?" Clint asked uncomfortably over the comms.

The implication caused Tony to let out a few more chuckles. "Keep digging," he insisted.

"Why did you feel the need to grab me there?" Steve questioned, thoroughly confused.

Over the comms, Nat cackled.

Tony's response was automatic. He flirted. "You know, if it weren't for the situation, I'd love to have you in this position a little longer," he said, and fully meant it.

The gauntlet recorded a brief rise in Steve's body temperature. It went back to normal far too fast to be natural. But that didn't make sense. "I think he's got a concussion," he reported.

"I'd also prefer my room, with less clothes," Tony specified happily.

"I regret telling you to keep talking," Clint grumbled.

There was a shifting of brick and concrete, and daylight peeked through. It was beautiful.

Tony allowed himself to let out a shaky breath. It was over.


Months passed and all that happened was the increase in nightmares. For both of them, Steve thought when he woke up alone yet again. There were more things than ever to have bad dreams about.

If it wasn't New Year's Eve of 1944, it was the Battle of New York. If it wasn't either of those, it was the battles that had raged since. Every single one they had come close to losing someone, and more often than not it was Iron Man.

Pretending to not understand the watch the other Avengers had them under was easy. Most of Steve's life had been spent faking obliviousness, whether it was to all the times Bucky had gone out to beat up the guys who beat him up, or missions during the war. After his talks with Bruce, he knew why and could accept their precaution.

Not that he was fond of the aim of their plans. Contrary to popular opinion, Steve liked being alive.

Despite that, they all grew closer. More often than not Bruce and Tony could be found in the lab of Stark Tower, usually with Steve drawing or reading on the sofa. Nat and Thor made an unusual pair, but after the first time Steve watched them stargaze (and once he realized that the God of Thunder was also subjected to jokes about his age) he could understand it. Between the two groups Clint hovered, sometimes going out for a night on the town with Tony and other times doing spy stuff with Nat.

Thursdays were joked about as being Avengers day, since it was named after Thor. It was the main day they all came together as a group for movies, games, and the occasional field trip to the zoo or any other outing that sounded fun. Risk made the entire team swear at Steve until the end of the night, and Monopoly lasted until Saturday when Tony and Clint were both too canny to be beaten within the day.

When someone (Bruce) had the terrible idea of playing Diplomacy last week, they were interrupted right in the middle of Tony threatening to murder Thor over the English Channel while Steve broke his alliance with Nat in favor of helping Clint take out Bruce's fleet. The Avengers alarm was actually welcome that Thursday. From then on Diplomacy was banned from the Tower. As Tony said, "I have this buddy," he coughed out Bruce's name, "I trust him a lot. I'll trust him with my house, my car, and my wallet. But I will not trust that bitch with Belgium." It said a great deal that the other scientist actually looked flattered.

That was part of why this week they had a game that competition played very little part in. After the fiasco that was last week, there was no way they could survive anything serious. So Nat had brought out a game called Cards Against Humanity.

"What am I giving up for Lent?" Clint read off. He chuckled disappointedly and said, "I have the perfect card for this, too." It was the way this game seemed to work.

"What is Lent?" Thor asked, frowning down at his cards.

"It's a religious holiday," Steve answered as he carefully selected his card. He slid it across the table to Clint at nearly the same time Nat did.

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" she teased in that flat voice of hers.

Steve rolled his eyes. If it wasn't his age, it was Captain America jokes or Catholic jokes or Irish jokes. There was no winning with her.

"I bet those nuns paddled him all the time, sinner that he is," Tony joked.

"I didn't need to know even more of your kinks, Tony," Bruce almost reprimanded. The sparkle in his eyes was too mischievous for that, though.

Unrepentant, Tony shrugged. He tossed in his card, the last to do so.

To keep from knowing whose card was whose, Clint shuffled them. He read off the card again, then flipped the cards one by one. "Am I giving up that ass for Lent?" He gave Tony a significant glance before he read the other cards, "Am I giving up autocannibalism for Lent? Am I giving up shotguns for legs, for Lent? Am I giving up my sex dungeon for Lent?" He visibly choked and had to bang his chest with a fist as he asked, "Or am I giving up the entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir for Lent?" He held up the last card, looking around hopefully for who it belonged to.

Almost sheepishly, Steve took the black card. This was his third out of eight rounds.

Next was Bruce's turn to pick a black card. "Here lies Tony Stark, 1970-2012, devoted friend, lover of blank," he read off.

"Oh, this is so not fair," Tony complained even as he picked a card.

It was a battle for Steve to not chuckle as he picked his card. Hopefully Bruce would get the reference.

After all the cards were in, Bruce shuffled them, then asked, "Is Tony a lover of porn stars?"

As one, they all chorused, "Yes." Even Thor joined in.

"That was years ago!" Tony protested. No one bothered to answer.

"Is he a lover of spectacular abs?" Bruce continued.

"Only if they're genetically engineered," Nat muttered.

Bruce pretended to not hear her, as did Tony and Steve. Some things the super soldier couldn't tolerate hearing, for his own sanity.

"Is he a lover of explosions?"

"You bet!" Tony exclaimed.

"Is he a lover of heartwarming orphans?" Bruce snorted.

No one seemed to get it, but Clint made a bobbing motion with his head.

"Is he a lover of The Force?"

They all knew how much of a Star Wars nerd Tony was. There was no need to say a word.

Decision time was short. "I would say he's a lover of heartwarming orphans," Bruce said, with a look at Steve. He didn't need to ask whose it was. The joke was gotten. "But explosions is too true." He handed the card to Tony, who squealed happily.

Then it was Thor's turn. "I went from blank to blank, all thanks to blank," he read.

"Three cards," Bruce murmured, and frowned at his hand.

Each person put in their cards, some smirking and others shrugging, with Thor carefully looking in a different direction. Once Nat put her cards in, he reached for the closest pile.

"Read them top to bottom," Clint reminded the god.

With a nod, Thor did. "I went from my dad's dumb fucking face to Genghis Khan, all thanks to science," he said, somewhat horrified. Respect for parents must be a bigger thing on Asgard than it was here, now.

Tony's snickers both told who probably put that combination in, and were ignored. No matter how funny it was to hear the legitimate Norse god of thunder swear.

"I went from a fetus to Robert Downey Jr, all thanks to Prince Ali, fabulous he, Ali Ababwa," Thor said, frowning when he didn't get the joke.

"You didn't say it right," Steve couldn't help complaining.

"Would you care to assist me?" Thor requested, frowning at the cards.

With no other choice now, Steve did. He actually sang out the lyrics to his new favorite Disney movie. The tips of his ears got a little warm when Clint snickered, but no one else said anything.

Gravely, Thor nodded. "I went from a fetus to Robert Downey Jr, all thanks to A-li. handsome is he, Aliabawa!" he repeated, actually singing the last part.

It seemed that Clint couldn't help himself. He nearly busted a gut laughing.

"I went from the American dream to necrophilia, all thanks to a time travel paradox," Thor read out.

Steve couldn't help gaping at the cards. What the hell was that? He glanced across the table at Bruce, who shrugged.

"Anything we should know, Captain?" Nat taunted slyly.

"Nothing about necrophilia," Steve refuted, grinning. Not even he was crazy enough for that.

"I went from the hardworking Mexican to party Mexicans, all thanks to 8 oz of sweet Mexican black tar heroin," Thor read off, dipping his head in concession to that.

It was an admittedly impressive set of cards. How long had the owner been holding onto those?

"What is heroin?" Thor inquired.

Tony saw the opportunity. Tony took the opportunity. "Yeah Bruce, you know so much about cocaine, what do you know about heroin?" he asked, blinking dewy dark eyes innocently at the doctor across the table.

No one bought that. "It's a highly addictive, very illegal hard drug and has a range of effects, both pleasant and not so much," Bruce answered with a clinical smile.

That answered, Thor went back to the cards and made a face of mixed appreciation and disgust. He then overturned the last set of cards. "I went from drinking alone to concealing a boner, all thanks to genetically engineered super soldiers," Thor said, and let out a hearty guffaw.

Everyone looked from Thor to Steve and back again. "That's actually a card?" Clint asked blankly.

To prove it, Thor held it up. Indeed, the white card did say 'genetically engineered super soldiers'.

Far from being offended, Steve laughed. He was just amazed (and flattered) that he had his own Cards Against Humanity card. Kind of. He carefully steered away from thoughts of Tony and- shit.

"Steve, you okay?" Tony asked, tapping him on the face.

Somehow, lying to that face never got any easier. "Fine. My age is just catching up to me," Steve said cheerfully.

It was enough to get a laugh out of the table. The whole incident was forgotten as Thor awarded the black card to Nat for the super soldier combo. The game continued and Steve's pile of black cards grew exponentially. Only Nat's rivaled his, and despite the nature of the game, they ended up in fierce competition.

By the time they ran out of white cards, Steve had won a resounding victory. He gathered the prize of several chocolates and walked smugly away with them before Tony could convince him to part with any of them. They were his this time, since the genius didn't feel like being around him anymore.

The thought hurt. More than he would ever say.

Since everyone else was busy cleaning up, Steve took the opportunity to escape to the roof. Not many other people went up there. He needed some alone time to think on what he had realized that evening, thanks to the super soldiers card.

Under the starlight, Steve had to wonder… What if…

It wasn't long before Bruce appeared, climbing cautiously from the trap door to where Steve sat. Did heights not agree with him? "I thought you might be up here," the scientist said. He let out a breath when he got to where the other man sat, and slid down on his own bum.

"You thought right," Steve replied needlessly. Now that his friend was safe, he turned his eyes back to the stars. It was only up here that he could see them, above the light pollution of the city.

For a few minutes they stayed quiet, looking up at the heavens. It was a relatively clear night, only a few clouds drifting lazily across the sky. The noises of the city drifted up just as lazily, muted by distance.

"What happened during cards?" Bruce asked. "You looked like you just remembered you left the stove on before deployment." Knowing his expressions as he did, that was likely a fine comparison.

It took a moment to find the words again. "We agreed that Tony got a version of the serum and that it probably happened while he was a captive at Azzano," Steve prefaced.

A hum of agreement came from Bruce.

"Bucky survived the same experiments," Steve revealed stonily, "He was able to keep up, do things that he had never been able to before, just like Tony." He hoped that got the point across. He was almost unable to imagine his best friend and the man he loved going through that pain, becoming like him… and not saying a word. Then again, it explained the times that they were closeted together afterward, when everyone thought Tony was cheating on him. They were trying to get their bearings in the face of their new abilities.

The lack of trust splintered, even years later. Just like the lack of trust Tony had in him now.

"They never found Barnes's body," Bruce said, following his train of thought.

"After the Winter Soldier was unmasked, he looked exactly like Bucky, just with a crooked nose," Steve added. It was all coming together in a picture he didn't like.

"And since the Winter Soldier came through with Tony, meaning that he was from the future… Do you think that…?" Bruce seemed unable to say it as well.

The mere concept was enough to make Steve angry in his friend's defense, and ashamed that he didn't look for a body, and horrified at the possibilities of what had happened. Was this why Tony had died rather than be taken by HYDRA again? Not the torture and experimentation, but knowledge of what Bucky would go through and fear that it might happen to him too?

The idea put a lump in Steve's throat. If that was true, he was a terrible friend and even more terrible boyfriend.

"You said that the Winter Soldier was going after Bucky in an effort to commit suicide. If he is what Bucky would become, and he knew that, is there a chance that he didn't mean it in the way that everyone thought?" Bruce asked suddenly.

It was a startling thought. And inherently horrifying. "You mean, you think that the Soldier went back to kill his previous self?" Steve asked.

"That would erase his own existence. The ultimate form of suicide," Bruce confirmed.

They sat in silence, half unable to believe it and half not wanting to.

Steve just hoped that whatever happened, it was nothing like the images scrolling through his head.

It would be a long time before he found out that it was far different. And far worse.