When they arrived back on base, Rhodey was asleep, or more likely, passed out in his bunk.

"He's not usually like this," Tony said quietly. He was aware whispering was silly since Rhodey couldn't hear them, but he couldn't fight the instinct to keep his voice down.

"Everyone grieves differently," Steve said.

Tony shrugged and dipped a finger into the wall, flicking off the lights. He was pretty sure Rhodey wouldn't want anybody else to see him in such a state, so the least he could offer Rhodey was the shield of darkness.

He turned back to find Steve gaping at him.

"How'd you do that?"

"What?" Tony asked. "You told me we could mess with electricity. Or are you just surprised I picked it up so fast?"

Steve shook his head. "When I told you ghosts could mess with the lights, I didn't mean it like that."

Tony watched as Steve sank his hand into the wall. The lights flickered faintly like the glow of a nightlight, and when Steve removed his hand, they faded back out.

"Huh," Tony said. "Maybe my ghost powers are stronger since I'm newly dead. Like how baby scorpions are more dangerous than the adults."

"I don't think that's it."

"Well, maybe the afterlife balances everything out. You got to be big, buff Captain America in life and you get to be a wimpy ghost."

Steve gave him another disapproving look and glided out of the room. Tony hurried to follow after him.

Steve stopped right outside the barracks. "Your body will be in the morgue," he said, turning his head to take in the rest of the base. "And unfortunately, yours won't be the only one."

Tony bowed his head. All those soldiers killed simply because Stane wanted to take over his company. Collateral damage.

"Not your fault," Steve said. He turned back to Tony. "The blame is on Stane and those terrorists. And we're going to make sure they don't kill anybody else. You with me, Tony?"

Tony's head snapped up. "Hell yes." There was nothing quite like a pep talk from Captain America.

Steve's mouth curled into a smile. "Good. Morgue's this way," he said with a jerk of his head. "Let's figure out how we're going to spook 'em."

Tony swooped ahead into the small building. The coroner was inside, examining a body under the glow of fluorescent lights. Thankfully, it wasn't his. He didn't think he could stand to watch himself being cut open for autopsy.

But his body was in there somewhere, probably in one of those big, slide-out drawers. Tony had seen enough TV to know how these things worked. He pressed his face through the first drawer and stared at the body inside. Wasn't his. Probably one of the soldiers from the Humvee, though it was hard to tell without their uniform.

Steve hovered behind him. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for my body. Ah, here we go." Tony phased through the drawer and hovered a few inches above his body. It was still weird seeing himself like this. Seeing his skin so pale and his face blank.

A second later, Steve joined him. "You look so peaceful," he said quietly. "Like you're only-"

"In a coma?"

The corner of Steve's mouth twitched. "Having a long rest."

They backed out of the drawer together.

"So, this is where I am," Tony said. "And this is where Obadiah will be. So what's the plan?"

"Not sure yet." Steve looked up at the rows of lights overhead. "We can start with the lights, of course. After that-"

He broke off with a start as Obadiah Stane's imposing figure strode in through the door, flanked by two bodyguards.

"Ah, Mr. Stane." The coroner pulled off his gloves and reached out to shake Obadiah's hand. "Thank you for coming."

Obadiah smiled and shook the man's hand. "Tony was a remarkable man. It's a shame he had to meet his end here."

But he was still smiling and Tony longed to punch the look of smug satisfaction right off his face.

"Lights," Steve ordered.

Tony thrust his arm into the wall and the room went dark.

The coroner made a little sound of surprise and he looked up at the overhead lights as if staring at them long enough would make them turn back on. "Er, sorry about that. Generator must be out."

Steve rubbed his hands together. "We're off to a good start. They're already nervous and unsettled."

"Why, Captain," Tony purred. "I'd almost think you like scaring the hell out of these poor people."

"Oh, I don't like scaring poor people," Steve said. "But I do love scaring greedy assholes who betray their friends. They deserve not being able to sleep at night."

Tony let out a low whistle. "Wow. Remind me never to cross you."

Steve grinned and floated up to the ceiling. He ran a hand slowly across the lights, letting each one flicker briefly and then die out. The two bodyguards followed the pattern. With their guns.

"Jesus," Tony said. "It doesn't take much to spook these guys, does it?"

"Well, they know their employer. People who are double-dealing make twice as many enemies."

Well, that made sense. It was actually kind of profound.

"And now we turn the lights back on," Steve said. "All the way on."

Tony nodded and put his hand back through the wall. Beside him, Steve did the same.

The room lit up, their combined force making the lights brighter than they'd ever been. The coroner put a hand up to shield his eyes and squinted at the ceiling.

"We need them brighter," Steve hissed. "Concentrate, Tony. Really concentrate."

Tony gritted his teeth. He was concentrating. All his will was focused on those damn lights. He wanted them brighter like he had never wanted anything in his life.

The lights powered up, blindingly bright. And then there was a loud pop as all the bulbs burst.

The coroner yelped and ducked under the table to avoid the glass. The bodyguards pushed Stane back and shielded him with their bodies.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Stane roared as he picked himself off the ground.

"I don't know," the coroner said as he crawled out from under the table. "The lights have never malfunctioned like this before."

"Malfunction, my ass," Stane muttered. "Move out, men. We have some people to see."

"W-wait," the coroner called after them. "What about Mr. Stark's body?"

"Call Colonel Rhodes. I'm a busy man." Stane slammed the door on his SUV and the car roared off into the desert, followed by the rest of Stane's fleet.

Tony doubled over laughing. "Obie thinks those terrorists double-crossed him. My god, Steve, this is perfect! With any luck, they'll wipe each other out."

"That's the plan anyway."

"It's a brilliant plan. Steve, you're a genius. You're-" Tony coughed and quickly averted his eyes. "You're Captain America. This is probably normal stuff for you."

Steve laid a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I couldn't have done it without you. Come on. Let's follow Stane and see if they really do kill each other off."

Stane's convoy stopped at a makeshift camp in the desert, half a mile from where Tony had been killed. The place was crawling with terrorists, every one of them brandishing an assault rifle. But they let Stane's car into camp without question. It was just another horrible indication of how deeply Obadiah was involved with these people.

Obadiah got out of his vehicle first, flanked by the guards from the morgue. And then the rest of the men piled out of their vehicles.

A couple terrorists came out from the biggest tent in the middle of the tent to greet Stane.

"Welcome," said the man who appeared to be their leader. "We will talk business. Leave your guards outside."

Stane turned and smiled at his men, holding one hand up in a placating gesture before he stepped inside the tent. Tony instantly felt unsettled. Stane was supposed to be angry at these guys.

"We have done as you asked," said the terrorist, settling himself inside the tent. "But you did not tell us the target was the great Tony Stark himself."

"You didn't ask."

The terrorist's eyes narrowed. "You pay us trinkets for killing a prince. My men deserve extra compensation for our great success."

"Out of the question. You're already getting what you deserve."

"We deserve an empire, stretching across all of Asia." The terrorist began pouring a glass of whiskey.

While the man was occupied, Stane casually slipped two little earpieces into his ears.

"Son of a bitch," Tony growled.

"What?"

"I made this thing. It emits a frequency that causes temporarily paralysis. It was designed for the army, so they could take down an enemy stronghold without casualties. But again, Stane's using it for nefarious purposes."

"We can accomplish this with a few of Stark's Jerichos. A just reward for killing him. You would not want to strain our partnership, would you?"

Stane leaned in towards the man and held a remote beside his ear. With a push of the button, the terrorist's body stiffened, the veins in his face darkening."This is how I reward people who cross me," he said. "A helpful reminder that you're not in control here. I am." He patted the man's head. "I saw your work at the morgue. Supposed to convince me I need your protection, I assume. Well, you people have served your purpose. I don't need you anymore."

And then he calmly walked out of the tent as if nothing had happened.

Tony was horrified to see that while Stane had been chatting with the leader of the terror ring, his men had rounded up the rest of the terrorists and were holding them at gunpoint.

"Load up all the weapons," Stane said, gesturing to the crates of Stark tech scattered around the camp. "Dispose of the rest."

Tony jerked back as Stane's men opened fire on their captives. "Jesus Christ," he breathed out. "All this time I've been…"

"Living with a monster," Steve said grimly.

Tony shuddered as Stane slid into his car, his men following close behind. "And I thought the terrorists were the worst because, you know, they're the ones that actually killed me. But, Stane, my god. He's a fucking sociopath. Doesn't give a damn about anybody's life but his own."

Steve put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "We're going to avenge your death," he said. "A man with Stane's morals should never be in charge of a weapons company."