Another long chapter! Seriously, these are taking a lot of time. Every Productive Academic Work period, all of my free time in the mornings, most of my afternoon free time... It gets busy. Plus, there's two more chapters left before I'm done with this origin. And I don't know whether I'm gonna throw in IM2 or not... but it's OK. Tony Stark is my favorite character, after all.
Now, for a lot of filler, in between which is mashed that scene where you knew that the MCU had got it right.
To TheIronGhost1223: Thank you so much, and here you are!
The song for this chapter is "Giver" by K. Flay. It's probably the song with the most lyrics hidden in the chapter somewhere. Listen to it and try to find everything!
IRON MAN: CHAPTER 5: I DON'T KNOW IF I'M A GIVER
"Next. Up," Tony instructed DUM-E, his first AI, as they worked together on a repulsor boot. As the bot moved, trying to modify the skeleton boot, Tony glared at him. "Not up here, DUM-E. Down to the toe. You got me?"
Obligingly, the bot shifted over, and Tony thanked him. A few minutes later, the AI shifted back over to where Tony was working on the main booster, and tried to 'help'. "You're of no benefit at all," Tony scolded. "Move down to the toe. I got this." When DUM-E whistled a protest, Tony stopped his work and gave the bot an incredulous look. "OK, I'm sorry, am I in your way?" One last twist, and the boot should be done. Leaning back, Tony flipped a switch, and the back of the boot opened up. Nothing left to do but the testing.
"OK, let's do this right," announced Tony to the empty room, several minutes later. "Start mark, half a meter, and back and center. DUM-E, look alive. You're on standby for fire safety. U, roll it." The bot in question activated the camera, as Tony moved to the correct location. "OK. Activate hand controls. We're gonna start off nice and easy. We're gonna see if 10% thrust capacity achieves lift. And three, two, one -" Closing his eyes, Tony squeezed the activators, hard.
He was thrown into the air, much too far, much too fast. The boots spun out of control, and Tony landed face-first against the wall. Falling heavily on his back on the floor beneath, the genius couldn't protest as DUM-E doused him with the fire extinguisher.
All Tony could do was sigh.
JARVIS called out, "Sir, your mother heard the sound of your crash, and is proceeding downstairs to check on you. Estimated time of arrival is 1 minute, 30 seconds." Even though JARVIS wasn't a real person, he managed to sound quite nervous.
"Close all computer windows relating to mark 2," replied Tony quickly. "Stop camera, and DUM-E, put down the damn extinguisher." The bot, who had proceeded to spray almost all the worktables with extinguishing foam, whistled guiltily.
By the time Maria was in the lab, the skeleton boots were in a corner, a table was overturned, and Tony was sitting in the middle of it all, pretending to clear up the papers that had been on the upheaved surface. "Tony, what happened?" asked Maria, worried.
"Oh, nothing," replied her son. "U knocked over a table, and DUM-E thought it was a good idea to spray the fire extinguisher everywhere."
"Maybe DUM-E thought that spraying in here would clean everything up," Maria commented, glancing around the hastily, insufficiently cleared lab. Her eyes lingered on the skeleton boots, but she didn't investigate further. "Well, if you have everything covered, I'll let you get back to work."
"OK, thanks Mom!" Tony called as she left. Oh, thank God that the lab wasn't exactly the same as the one in Malibu. Whereas in Malibu, the partition between the stairs and lab workspace was glass, here it was concrete, providing a bit more seclusion for his work. After a moment, the genius dramatically flopped into a chair. "U, pick the table back up, please. We need to get to work, and we need to be quiet about it."
His mom would never approve of Tony flying a weaponized metal suit around in known terrorist locations, not to mention staying up so late, days were turning into holes in his mind.
Though it pained him to keep this secret, he had to keep up the ploy, act happy, act content, so she could keep dancing in the dark. A blissful, peaceful dark, but dark nevertheless.
His only problem would be getting her to think that daylight was still out.
Tony grabbed a cup of coffee from the table, choking it down despite the overabundance of sugar. Pepper had been drinking coffee again down here, hadn't she?
"Sir, your mother is requesting your presence," JARVIS announced, the next day, "as Mr. Stane has arrived at the premises. I suggest you obey her wishes."
"Tell them I'll be up in a couple minutes, Jar," Tony mumbled. "Important experiments, they'll understand." He had worked out the best way to remain stable while in the air; the solution, however, had required several hours more work than he anticipated, and he knew another long night was required for him to finish his homework. Then he would be tired the next day, and take longer to finish his homework, get to bed later… a vicious, vicious cycle.
He couldn't really do anything to break the circle, though. School and homework had to continue, for obvious reasons. Time with Pepper… well, that was his only real leisure time, and they needed each other, that much was clear. Working on the suit couldn't stop, because Tony needed the Iron Man to finish what he had started.
As Tony mindlessly tinkered with the apparatus wrapped around his arm, JARVIS's voice finally penetrated his deep folds of thought. "SIR! Your mother -"
"What?" exclaimed Tony, glancing around. Footsteps were coming down the stairs, the lab door was cracked open for air - why did he think that was a good idea? - and his arm was stuck in the device he had been testing. "JARVIS, close all blueprint designs!" he hissed violently, not bothering to struggle out of the confining wrap.
"Tony?" Maria asked, coming down the stairs. "This isn't optional, Obadiah's upstairs, and - what is that? I thought… I thought you were done with weapons."
"I am done, Mom," Tony denied. Might as well tell some of the truth; it was right in front of her, after all. "This is a flight stabilizer I'm working on. Completely harmless." To prove his point, he triggered it, and a beam of blue light shot out of the middle of the palm.
The light also slammed into the wall, sending a huge fissure through the thick concrete and shaking several picture frames down. Tony was propelled backward, crashing into the adjoining wall. Maria gave a shriek, shrinking to the side and clapping two fine hands over her ringing ears. The genius winced; the device needed some definite fine-tuning.
When the dust cleared, Tony looked up and grinned sheepishly at Maria. "I didn't expect that."
"Just come upstairs," muttered Maria, climbing back up. "I'll be in my room. Obadiah's in the dining room. And watch where you point that flight stabilizer."
"It went that bad, huh?" Tony asked, casually walking into the dining room. Obadiah, gently playing a tune on the piano, glanced up at Tony, giving a smile that seemed even more forced than the last thirty times he'd done it.
"Just because I brought you pizza doesn't mean it went bad," the CEO responded, his easy voice at odds with his tight expression.
Tony scoffed, "Sure doesn't." Lifting the cardboard top of the pizza box, he glanced at the label and whistled. "Oh, boy. Best pizza in New York. What went bad?"
"It would have gone better if you were there," Obadiah answered, delicately dodging the question.
"One: I'm a kid," Tony responded, slightly pissed. "Two: You told me to lay low. That's what I've been doing. I lay low, and you take care of all the -"
"Hey, come on," Obadiah wheedled, rising from the piano and walking towards Tony, punctuating each point with vague gestures. "In public. The press. This was a board of directors meeting. They would have listened to you."
What? Had the schedule changed? It hadn't been scheduled for a while yet… "This was a board of directors meeting?"
The older man shifted uncomfortably, giving out the bad news at last. "The board is claiming you have post-traumatic stress. They're filing an injunction."
"A what?" Tony asked, dread building in his stomach.
"They want to lock all of your ideas out," Obadiah clarified.
Tony sighed, overdramatically shaking his head. "Why, 'cause the stocks dipped 40 points? We knew that was gonna happen."
"Fifty-six and a half," corrected Obadiah tiredly. Seriously, the man needed to get some sleep and practice his 'emotionless' and 'happy' faces.
"It doesn't matter," the boy genius dismissed. "Mom owns the controlling interest in the company, and she's behind all my smart decisions."
"Tony, the board has rights, too," Obadiah stated pleadingly. "They're making the case that you and your new direction isn't in the company's best interest."
"I'm being responsible!" Tony exclaimed, his iron grip on his self-control slowly slipping, a finger at a time. "That's a new direction for me, for the company." Wait. That wasn't the point he wanted to make. "I mean, me on the company's behalf being responsible for the way that… This is great." Utterly tired of the whole conversation, Tony got up and started to stalk to the hallway.
"Oh, come on," Obadiah moaned. "Tony. Tony."
"Yes, that's my name," Tony responded flippantly. "I'll be in the shop."
The man seemed to wait, but suddenly called out, "Hey, hey! Hey, Tony. Listen." Unwillingly, the boy genius stopped moving, although he didn't bother to turn as Obadiah continued. "I'm trying to turn this thing around, but you gotta give me something. Something to pitch them. Let me have the engineers analyze… that." Without seeing Obie, Tony knew that the man had gestured vaguely at Tony's chest, where a slight glow could be seen if one knew what to look for. "You know, draw up some specs."
This was why Obadiah should never had known about the ARC reactor. "No. No, absolutely not," Tony responded, whirling around and coldly glaring at Obadiah.
"It'll give me a bone to throw to the boys on the board!" Obadiah offered, sounding a little like a whining puppy.
"This one stays with me," Tony stated firmly. "That's it, Obie. Forget it."
The man shrugged, grabbing the pizza box and childishly stating, "All right, well, this stays with me, then." After a few seconds the man sighed and held the box back out. "Go on, here, you can have a piece. Take two."
Is this what Obadiah thought 'being friendly' was like? The man needed serious help.
As Tony walked out, the CEO turned and asked, "You mind if I come down there and see what you're doing?"
Tony stopped, emitting a long sigh. "Obadiah, I haven't told anyone willingly about the ARC. You might want to consider why. Good night."
As Tony escaped, he mentally berated himself. Where did that come from? Sure, he had lied before, but never outright to someone he cared about.
Maybe he had just wanted to stand up to Obadiah. Remind the man that he wouldn't let go of what was his. No one was keeping him honest, anyway.
Something bad was going on around Obadiah, and he almost didn't want to find out. The man had been caring most of his life; sometimes, when Howard was consumed by a new project, Obadiah became a sort of father. He couldn't replace Howard, of course, but that didn't mean Tony couldn't pretend, pretend he was wanted by someone not related him.
That was all it was; pretend.
Well. Time to work on the armor. That was one thing he wouldn't regret making progress on.
When he came down to the lab, a package caught his eye. It was labeled 'For Tony', in what looked like Pepper's handwriting. Curious, he tapped the brown package, feeling a hard glass case inside. Tearing open the paper, Tony beheld the original ARC reactor, mounted proudly in the case, with an engraving around the edge: 'Proof that Tony Stark Has A Heart'.
Tony smiled, his somber clouds of thought clearing as her sunlight shone through.
Only Pepper.
"Tony?" called out a voice. Ms. Dowe, to be precise. The genius shook himself out of his Obadiah-induced daze, realizing a second too late that it was lecture day. Everyone would read out their answer for their packet questions, and Ms. Dowe would give the class notes to write down. As long as someone had both initial and final answers when the packet was turned in, they got full credit, no matter how accurate the initial answer was.
Now, however, Tony was stuck, not knowing what he had to say, and not having any friend to remind him. If only he could sleep more… Now he did regret working on the armor. Desperately, Tony glanced towards Ms. Dowe, who, after a second of contemplation, mouthed "12" as discreetly as she could. Looking back down at his paper, Tony read out the answer. Just after Ms. Dowe gave some extra notes on the topic for everyone to jot down, the bell rang, and everyone jumped up, laughing, chatting with their friends, heading off to class. Ms. Dowe, however, waved Tony over to her desk.
The genius shifted uncomfortably. "Ms. Dowe, I have Calculus next period…"
"Oh, don't worry. I'll write a note for Phil if you're going to be late, he'll be fine with it," the teacher answered breezily. Phil? Oh, Mr. Coulson. Who knew that teachers could be friends with each other?
"Anyway," Ms. Dowe continued, "I noticed that you were a bit lost today. Usually you're one of the most attentive students. Is there anything going on?"
Tony shrugged. He had talked with Ms. Dowe a little bit in the past couple weeks, mostly about school but still, she seemed nice and trustworthy. Not enough to tell her about the big stuff - he wouldn't put it past her to contact his mom - but one little problem couldn't hurt to unload.
"It's just, well, my godfather - Mr. Stane - has been acting strange lately. Stranger than normal, at least. He seems really unhappy around me, he almost wants to… manipulate me, or something. I've lost some sleep over it, and I was just thinking about it now. It's been distracting."
The teacher nodded thoughtfully. "In context, I would say that Obadiah Stane seems to be a decent person. Perhaps misguided; I don't really think weapons are the answer to peace." Tony shuffled, aware of what was taking shape in his basement. "Out of context… I advise you to trust your gut. Trust what you notice. Be aware of everything. History repeats itself, Tony. Use all the puzzle pieces you have; don't leave any out because 'you know this person' or 'he would never do that'. You're smart, Tony. So, so, smart. Use that to your advantage."
"Thank you," Tony replied thoughtfully, "really. Objectivity is the one thing I don't seem to have these days." He turned to leave, thinking about everything Ms. Dowe had said. She sounded so grandmotherly, saying those things.
Was it really so bad that he liked it? That he wanted to trust Ms. Dowe with more of his secrets?
"Tony?" Ms. Dowe called, just as he reached the door. "I find that talking about problems with someone outside of them can be very helpful. If you find yourself in need of that, I'm always here."
"Thank you. Again," Tony returned gratefully. Motivation, someone supportive, and he would be on time to Calculus. Win-win-win for Tony Stark.
He trusted Ms. Dowe, he really did. One of the first things he had noticed about the woman was that she could never wear any kind of mask. Whatever her emotion was - elation, sadness, or annoyance - she wore it on her face, even with her best attempts to cover it up. She wasn't lying to him.
Good to know where she stood on the 'Helpfulness to Tony' scale.
As the genius walked into Calculus, he almost swore at Coulson's expressionless face. He was a nice enough teacher, and he knew the subject, but God forbid he show any kind of emotion while he was at it. Seriously. It was like the man was a government agent or something.
"Day 11, test 37, configuration 2.0," the boy genius rattled off, glancing around the lab. The door was securely shut and locked - he had learned his lesson, especially now, when his ARC reactor had to be exposed. Pepper had just left, so she wouldn't be coming in and witnessing the test. The only variables that he had to worry about were the devices on his appendages.
Two repulsor boots and two flight stabilizers were his final choice on flying; they seemed the most maneuverable and versatile. The boots had a little plating on them, while the stabilizers were little more than wires and struts. All four were running off of his ARC reactor, which was exposed by a hole in his shirt. Hopefully, this experiment would go a little better than last time. He had high hopes; this held so much potential, after all.
"For lack of a better option, DUM-E is still on fire safety," he continued dictating to the camera. Why was he even recording this? It wasn't like he was going to release it; all it did was provide another box for Maria to unwittingly click and watch. Well, whatever. He liked dramatics. "If you douse me again," he instructed, wagging his finger at the little AI, "and I'm not on fire, I'm donating you to a city college." DUM-E glanced down, emitting his little whimpering sound.
Moving to the center of the testing area, Tony exhaled deeply, shaking himself out. "All right, nice and easy. Seriously, just gonna start off with 1% thrust capacity. And three, two, one -" He triggered the start bracing himself.
The repulsors fired properly, bringing him up about a foot off of the ground. Frantically, slightly unprepared for this eventuality, Tony flailed his arms, trying to find a balance, while the hand stabilizers sputtered in and out. Finally, Tony was there, hovering, stable. He cut out the power and dropped onto the ground.
He hadn't felt this accomplished since those few minutes in the cave, when the Iron Man suit had been working, before -
Anyway.
Sneaking a look at DUM-E, Tony noticed how trained the bot's extinguisher was on him. "Please don't follow me around with it, either," he scolded, "because I feel like I'm gonna catch on fire spontaneously. Just stand down! If something happens, then come in." Breathing out, the genius glanced at U, who was still aiming the camera. "And again, let's bring it up to 2.5. Three, two, one."
Again Tony rose up, this time closer to three feet off the ground. The pressure of the boots were a rushing geyser under him, and as he faltered, leaning back slightly, they were off, propelling him towards the camera. Thinking quickly, he thrust his hands back, leaning him forward and sending him off. He was able to do a spin, but he couldn't get his hands underneath him, and his forward motion didn't stop. Pretty soon, he was at the concrete wall in back, where a garage door was concealed.
"OK, this is where I don't want to be!" he called out, carefully maneuvering around the corner and back along the workshop perimeter. This, however, brought the genius right above his father's prized cars. "Not the car, not the car!" he exclaimed, but they were already getting polished by repulsor bursts. Oh, well. He could check the paint job later. Now, he was heading over a table, sending papers and blueprints flying. Seeing the computer monitors right in front of him, Tony aimed his stabilizers right in front of him, sending him back towards U. Letting out a laugh, he pirouetted above the bot. "Could be worse! Could be worse! We're fine! OK!"
Finally, Tony was above where he had started, and locked his hands to his side. There he hovered, stable at last, like a majestic king surveying his realm. Slowly decreasing power, he flailed a little, but when he hit the ground, he only stumbled back three steps before regaining stability. Not bad for the first time he had ever flown.
Checking his surroundings, he caught DUM-E as the AI tried to raise the extinguisher one last time. "No!" he exclaimed forcefully, and the AI bowed down, dejected.
Tony looked out at the lab, the only witness to his accomplishment. Sighing, he spread his arms and proclaimed, "Yeah, I can fly."
Metal arms encased the skeleton boots in shining silvery plating. Screws whirred, being fitted into joints, holding together a casing. Tony lifted up a shining mask, placing it in front of him. "JARVIS, you there?" he asked, as the mask fitted onto his face.
"At your service, sir," the AI responded.
"Engage heads-up display," Tony commanded, ready to survey his work.
"Check," JARVIS responded, and the rest of the room was mapped out on the inside of the helmet. Hundreds of little icons were displayed in front of Tony, giving him so many options.
"Import all preferences from home interface," Tony commanded, and JARVIS did so, information starting to pop up about, well, anything Tony was looking at.
"I have been uploaded, sir," informed the AI. "We're online and ready."
"Can we start the virtual walkaround?" asked Tony. Well, he asked, but he knew what the answer was already. "And let's do a check on control services."
"Importing preferences and calibrating virtual environment," JARVIS supplied. "Test initiate."
Tony felt and heard the ripple of metal. First, the tabs on the back of the boots, stretching out, flaring, then sliding back. The knee plates slid back and forth, while the thighs expanded and contracted. Back plates flapped out, then in, as arm plating opened and closed. As the hips whirred around, the chest stretched, exposing blue lighting, then contracted back, forming a smooth shell. Shoulders flipped up, then back, and the Iron Man stood still, majestically, in the middle of the lab.
"Test complete," JARVIS reported. "Preparing to power down and begin diagnostics."
Suddenly, this didn't seem like enough. Tonight had to be special, even more so than trying on the suit. More like… trying out the suit.
Good thing his mother was out.
"Yeah. Tell you what," Tony decided. "Do a weather and ATC check. Start listening in on ground control."
"Sir," JARVIS immediately responded, sounding worried, "there are still terabytes of calculations needed before an actual flight is -"
"JARVIS," Tony interrupted, "sometimes, you've gotta run before you can walk." Standing ready, he keyed the opening for the garage door, and the genius stood in his creation, ready for anything. "Ready? In three, two, one -"
The armor fired, the boots starting off slow. As he tilted slightly towards the door, Tony did not expect the repulsors to build up speed; but they did. As he curved up the driveway, he accelerated, and by the time he reached the exit and catapulted into the night sky, he was a human rocket. Spinning, he shot upwards, letting out a yell of elation, ignoring the sudden honk of horns as New York commuters tried to process how a suit of flying armor had burst out of the ground.
The suit wound like a top, Tony whooping all the way. An incredible feeling washed over him as he moved ever higher. No one could catch him; no one could tell him what he could and couldn't do.
He was free. He would never let go of this.
The genius practiced rolls and loops, speeding over the ink-black ocean, still a little shaky but getting the hang of it. "Handles like a dream," he commented, breathing heavily in excitement. Yes, he was aware of the huge, stupid grin on his face, like a toddler on their birthday.
No, he didn't want to stop grinning.
Curving around, he turned from the Atlantic Ocean and sped back towards the Big Apple. Zooming in on the skyline, he found the Empire State Building, and aimed for it. The Iron Man shot over the streets like an arrow, banking sharply every so often. Once at the building, he circled around it, looping in smaller and smaller bursts until he flew up past the needle, enjoying the view of a group of tourists, scared shitless. Instead of banking down, Tony climbed higher and higher, giving him an idea. "All right, let's see what this thing can do. JARVIS, what's SR-71's record?"
"The altitude record for fixed wing flight is 85,000 feet, sir," the AI responded, along with a diagram of the plane in question and statistics. God, he loved this display system already.
"Records were meant to be broken! Come on!" Tony called, and the AI had no choice but to come along for the ride. Sure, Tony was being a bit reckless, but everything would be fine, right? All in the name of science.
"Sir, there is a potentially fatal buildup of ice occurring," JARVIS informed, worried.
"Hey, I'm learning to live, JAR," Tony commented. "Don't worry. Keep going."
Spoken too soon. He should include a little wood block on the side of the suit to knock on every time he said something stupid like that.
The suit started to really ice, until Tony's joints seemed almost locked, and ice obscured the eyes of the Iron Man, limiting Tony's view of the world to those two tiny windows. The repulsor boots suddenly shut off, and the acceleration slowed dramatically. Tony could almost watch his potential energy reach its limit, and then kinetic taking over… He gave a little yelp at the first foot of falling, then a more sustained shout as the suit didn't recover. The suit was free falling, spinning out of control.
"We iced over, JARVIS!" Tony yelled, hoping his AI could hear him. "Deploy flaps!" Hey, it wasn't like he was a complete idiot. He thought ahead of scenarios and included fail-safes.
Looked like he needed to add more.
If he got out of this.
"JARVIS!" he called, desperately thinking. When he whirled into view of the ground, it definitely looked much closer… Finally, an armored hand caught onto a strap along the hip of the armor, and Tony twisted as hard as he could. A shudder ran through the armor, shaking off the ice and halting the barrel roll, and he got a clear view of the ever-enlarging ground. The electronics booted up, instantly calculating his predicament.
The boots kicked in just in time, and his fall turned into a level path several yards above street level, and the Iron Man continued on, to the cadence of honking cars. Tony cheered and laughed in triumph. Not bad for thinking on his feet. Or repulsor boots, for that matter.
Arcing gracefully back to the Stark residence, Tony poised himself elegantly over an outlying roof, right above his workshop. Aligning himself much more elegantly than he did the last time that he had tested the repulsors, the genius was straight, regally hovering, as he called, "Cut power."
The armor crashed down with much more intensity than he expected, going straight through the roof. He landed on one of his father's cars, crushing the top irreparably. Oh, well. Another convertible.
The spectacle ended when DUM-E wheeled over, spraying Tony with all the rest of the fire extinguishing spray.
At least he wasn't in Malibu. The best place to land in Malibu was right above the piano.
As the genius started to rise, he took pride in his accomplishment. He had found another way to help the world achieve some sense of peace. Someone would be able to fix his mistakes.
Pepper waved to Tony and left the lab, heading home to get ready for some party her mom was dragging her along to. He sighed, a little disappointed, as he opened a new page on the Iron Man project. Mark 3 was next. "Notes. Main transducer feels sluggish at plus 40 altitude. Hull pressurization is problematic. I'm thinking icing is the probable factor."
"A very astute observation, sir," JARVIS responded, humoring him. "Perhaps, if you intend to visit other planets, we should improve the exosystems."
That was something to think about in the future; the very distant future. Dismissing the idea, he pondered solutions to the ice. "Connect to the system co. Have it reconfigure the shell metals. Use the gold titanium alloy from Dad's tactical satellite. That should ensure a fuselage integrity while maintaining power-to-weight ratio. Got it?"
The AI confirmed the alterations to the suit. "Shall I render using proposed specifications, sir?"
Tony shrugged. "Thrill me." He turned, and after a little internal debate, he powered on a T.V, flipping idly between channels. When the name 'Stark' featured on a headline, Tony turned up the volume, watching the announcer.
"Tonight's red-hot red carpet is right here at Kaufmann Hall, where Howard and Tony Stark's third annual benefit for the Firefighter's Family Fund has become the place to be for New York's high society."
Hm. "JARVIS, we get an invite for that?" asked the genius.
"I have no record of an invitation, sir," responded the AI.
Turning back quizzically to the screen, Tony returned his focus to the words in time to hear, "...hasn't been seen in public since his return home, and has released no statements since his bizarre and highly controversial press conference statement, delivered by Maria Stark. Some claim he's suffering from posttraumatic stress and has been bedridden for weeks. Whatever the case may be, no one expects an appearance from him tonight."
Famous last words.
"The render is complete," JARVIS supplied. Tony turned and gazed at the screen, taking in the pure gold suit. That was a new level, even for him.
"A little ostentatious, don't you think?" commented the genius.
"What was I thinking?" the AI scoffed. "You're usually so discreet."
"Tell you what," Tony decided, ultimately choosing in favor of his tastes. "Throw a little hot-rod red in there."
"Yes, that should help you keep a low profile." JARVIS paused before proclaiming once again, "The render is complete."
From the glance at the screen, it looked perfect. "Hey, I like it. Fabricate it. Paint it."
"Commencing automated assembly," JARVIS announced. "Estimated completion time is five hours."
"Don't wait up for me, honey," Tony smirked, heading upstairs. Speaking of low profiles...
Happy drove Tony up to the walkup of Kaufmann Hall, lined with cameras and the press. Tony got out, adjusting his dress shirt. He had been wearing thicker shirts lately, to guard against the glow of the ARC reactor, but this one had required an extra circle of fabric to completely obscure the blue light. Ah, well. Worth the time.
Obadiah was at the end of the carpet, next to his mother. Maria looked regal and powerful, while the CEO seemed, well, angry. As Maria started to make a statement, the reporters started shouting - not at her, but at Tony.
So much for a quiet entrance.
Maria looked nearly apocalyptic, while Obadiah seemed a little apprehensive of the young genius. As nonchalantly as he could, Tony strolled up the red carpet, waving to the cameras and pasting on a smile. As he passed an old man in a smoking jacket with two ladies on his arm, the genius patted the man on the shoulder, quipping, "You look great, Heff." The genius didn't think the man was actually Hugh Hefner, but hey.
"What's the world coming to when someone has to crash their own party?" Tony asked, trying to divert Maria's attention from the fact that he had come here on a school night.
"Look at you," Obadiah exclaimed. The hypocrite; he wasn't looking at Tony, but at where the ARC reactor was supposed to be. "Hey, what a surprise."
"I'll see you inside," mumbled the genius, aware of Ms. Dowe's words to trust his gut.
"Listen, you should really be home," Maria voiced, attempting to get her little boy safe at home.
"I think I've got the board right where we want them," supplied Obadiah.
Tony shrugged. "Just cabin fever. I'll be just a minute." Striding past the adults, he walked inside, glancing over the throng of people. Suddenly, there was a face he recognized; Coulson, clad in a suit and tie that strangely looked rather normal on him, more so than his usual slacks and button down.
Ambling over, he remarked, "Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Coulson. Why would you be here?" The man turned, and for a split second, Tony thought he could see the slightest hint of terror, hidden around the teacher's eyes. Just as suddenly, his expressionless mask smoothed back over, and the teacher supplied a tight smile.
"Mr. Stark, just a moment ago, it was more unlikely for you to be here than for me to be here, wouldn't you say so?"
Tony pondered that statement for a moment. True, Coulson wasn't the one who had been declared 'not going to show up' on live TV. Then again, did he make enough money to afford that nice suit he had on, or to even be able to show his face here, for that matter? Oh. Wait. God, that man was good at dodging questions. How much of a teacher could he really be? "Wait, you didn't answer my -"
"Isn't that Miss Potts over there?" the man queried suddenly. Tony guffawed, turning to scan the crowd to humor the man, and wait, how did Coulson know that he knew Pepper?
He was distracted from this thought, however, when he glanced over, and yes, there was Pepper, in a midnight blue dress with a low back, standing uncomfortably next to her slightly severe-looking mother. Wow, it was a whole melting pot of literally everyone Tony knew. Striding over to Pepper, the genius politely asked her mom, "May I cut in?"
Pepper's mother, while looking a bit flustered, nodded her approval, and Tony pulled Pepper to a small clearing in the midst of the forest of legs. After a moment, Tony commented, "I didn't expect this to be the party you were dragged to. Did you get an invitation because you knew me? First Coulson, now you… I keep wondering when Rhodey's gonna show up."
Pepper, not knowing enough of either man to make a comment on their attendance or lack of it, instead decided to go with, "Well, my mom's a firefighter. You would assume that you would be invited to the firefighter's benefit if you're an actual firefighter."
"True," Tony acknowledged. Another moment passed, and Tony questioned, "Am I making you uncomfortable?"
"No, no," denied the strawberry blonde. "I always forget to wear deodorant, and I dance with Tony Stark, publicly declaring our status as 'friends', in front of every person with any scrap of power in New York in a dress with no back."
"You look great and you smell great," Tony assured. "But we could stop being friends if that takes the edge off."
Thoughtfully, Pepper responded, "I actually don't think you could still function without me."
Shrugging, Tony admitted, "I'd make it a week. Sure."
"Really?" Pepper asked, desperate to make her point. "Without me, you wouldn't have any social life whatsoever."
"No, I could bribe someone," denied the genius. "Or everyone. If I wanted to, I could pay everyone at school to say that I'm their best friend."
"Why don't you?"
The genius shrugged. "They would only stare at me more, trying to make me give them more money."
"I rest my case," Pepper confirmed, still a bit flustered.
Tony, noticing this, offered his arm. "Want some air?"
"Yes, I want some air," Pepper repeated, slightly dizzy.
Tony guided her gently through the crowd to a balcony, where she drew in the breeze gratefully. Might not be fresh, considering that they were in New York, but better than the stuffiness of the hall.
"That was totally weird," Pepper finally managed to gasp out.
"Totally harmless," corrected an indifferent Tony.
"It was totally not harmless, by the way," Pepper countered.
Shrugging, Tony pointed out, "We're dancing. No one's even watching. I think you lost objectivity. I think they just… people… we just danced."
"No, it was not just a dance!" Pepper burst out. "You just don't understand, because your father tried to keep you out of everything, but no one forgot how your dad was with girls before he married your mom, and you're his son. And then, then there's me, and I show up, dancing with you, and some people might have taken it…"
"No, they did not," hotly defended Tony. When Pepper tried to contradict this statement, he repeated, "I don't think it was taken that way."
"But we're here," continued Pepper, "and I'm wearing this ridiculous dress, and then we were dancing like that…"
Almost unconsciously, the two began to drift closer together. As Pepper stopped hyperventilating, she shifted nearer to Tony, where he waited for whatever she wanted. Their faces were drawn together, Pepper's lips were parting -
"Mr. Stark!"
The untimely call of a reporter caught both teens off guard; they lurched apart, unsteady. Whirling quickly, Tony came face to face with an angry reporter, who whipped out a press badge and gave a fake, cheesy smile. "Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair Magazine. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
Tony glared daggers at her, but she didn't bug off, and he was forced to answer, "What do you want to know?"
Grinning her shark grin, the reporter leaned up against the balcony railing. "You have a lot of nerve, showing up here tonight. Can I get a reaction from you?"
"Panic. I would say panic is my reaction," responded the irritated billionaire.
"'Cause I was referring to your company's involvement in this latest atrocity," snapped Everhart, smiling all the while.
The bewildered genius muttered, "Yeah. They just put my name on the invitation. I don't know what to tell you."
Shaking her head, the reporter commented, "I almost bought it, hook, line, and sinker."
A little more annoyed now, Tony restated, "I was out of town for a couple months, in case you didn't hear."
"Is this what you call accountability?" replied Everhart, starting to frown and jamming out photographs. Tony, starting to wonder at what this lady's deal was, grabbed them and examined them closely.
He stopped wondering when he saw what they detailed: a decimated town, presided over by tanks; a convoy of Ten Rings insurgents, carrying weapons, Bearded Man their leader; a crate with the name Stark Industries emblazoned on the side; most worryingly, a Jericho missile.
Now how did they get that?
"It's a town called Gulmira," Everhart stated, delivering the final kicker. "Heard of it?"
Tony sighed, shaking a little, as Pepper gazed at him in concern. "When were these taken?"
"Yesterday," was the terse response.
"I didn't approve any shipment. Neither did my mother," Tony stated, aware of his mother's utmost upholding of the no-weapons policy.
That left Obadiah.
"Well, the company did," responded the reporter, unaware of Tony's inner battle.
Barely managing to keep himself from snapping at the woman, Tony countered, "Well, I'm not my company." Turning, the young genius made to find Obadiah and demand what the hell was going on, but Pepper's hand on his arm stopped him.
Turning to his friend, Tony apologized, "I'm really sorry, Pepper, but this is important. Someone's been using my mistakes against people, and I intend to fix that." He felt like screaming. Pepper deserved better than this. Screaming, not crying.
It wasn't like the world had mistreated him. He had only gotten what he had deserved.
"But Tony, your mistakes -"
"Are real, aren't behind me, and they're still hurting people," Tony responded flatly. "Pep, I'm trying to be better. I'm learning to give back to the world, but… I don't know if I'm a giver. If I can fix one of my mistakes, that's one less thing that can hurt people."
Pepper bit her lip, at odds with her feelings. Finally, she relented. "OK. Be careful, Tony. You aren't the only genius out there."
"Thanks for the pep talk," Tony grumbled, as he walked out. Catching sight of Obadiah, Tony stormed over, forcing himself through the crowd of reporters. "Please - do you mind - Obadiah! Have you seen these pictures? What's going on in Gulmira?"
"Tony, Tony," Obadiah said amiably. "You can't afford to be this naive."
Tony was done playing games with Obadiah. "You know what? I was naive before, when they said, 'Here's the line. We don't cross it'. If we're double-dealing under the table… are we?"
Reporters started to notice the young genius. "Tony, your picture, please!"
Obadiah smiled a juicy, triumphant smile, and he exclaimed, "Let's take a picture. Come on." He forcefully moved Tony right next to him, and gave him a one-armed hug. Tony still didn't smile. "Picture time!" As the cameras snapped, click click click, Obadiah murmured to Tony, "Tony. Who do you think locked you out? I was the one who filed the injunction against you. It was the only way I could protect you."
Tony stood stoically, enduring the flash of shutters, trying to reason with himself that he had mostly already known, this wasn't so bad, this could be fixed. All of this, to no avail.
Obadiah had betrayed him. He didn't want the man's hugs or fake smiles; not now, not ever. He wanted to twitch away and show this betrayal to the world.
If he did that, well, Obadiah had Tony's biggest secret. They were at a stalemate.
It wouldn't last long. Tony knew that he would escape as soon as possible, go back to his lab, and do something about both of these new developments.
So he could give back to the world that had given so much to him.
Dun Dun DUUUUHN! I didn't get as far in the story as I thought I would, but hey. This is a substantial part of the movie in my opinion. I tried to make things work with all the different characters, but I don't know how good it is. I'm still trying to figure out the cadence of the last battle...
Sorry about any continuity errors. I don't have access to the full movie currently, I'm only armed with a lines script, my memories, and YouTube clips. I'll try my best.
You know what's next chapter if you watched the movie. If you didn't, why are you here? Go watch it right now. I'll be waiting.
~Horseluv