Alrighty then, apparently there is a bit of language when Tony is full of angst.

By the way, chapter has lots of angst.

Chapter Five: For His Comfort

He didn't think he was a roof-top guy, but he wanted to get some air to help quiet his mind and there was a morbid part of him that was fascinated by the places he almost died. So, here he was, legs dangling over the edges, arms resting on the bar along with his chin that kept him from falling off as he watched the traffic below.

Of course, he just had to be disturbed in the midst of all his Obadiah and death musings by a rather Asian-looking warrior who sat down beside him. Which was fine, at first, because misery loves company and all, but then he tried to break the silence. Which was a big no-no. He was not going to talk about his feelings to anybody and least of all to his visitor.

"Tony-" he began, voice and face too full of sorrow that looked so weird on this form.

"Don't. Just don't," he growled, cutting him off. He turned his head a few degrees to the left and away from him. "I don't want to hear it from you."

"-I'm so sorry," he finished softly, totally ignoring what he said like always. He sighed inwardly.

"Are you?" he accused harshly, lashing out at him now face-to-face with a sharp jab of the finger. "Because I don't think you are. You said-you promised-I would become a great man, this awesome hero-guy but I certainly don't feel like one. My greatest creation-so far-the source of my superpower or whatever, just destroyed this place and almost caused World War III. I had to kill the only guy who stuck around and was a father-figure to me. You don't even count. You only show up when I "need" something and-and I don't even know your name or who you are!"

Okay, so apparently, he had a few things to say to him.

"And, you know what? If you really did care about me or actually came when I really needed you, why didn't you come earlier? Huh? Why did you have to make me put Pepper in danger, why couldn't you have stopped Obadiah from the beginning and prevented the entire damn mess from happening in the first place?

"I was happy with the lie-I was happy...You have the power to save my life over and over again, but you couldn't even keep me happy for just a little longer." His voice finally started to break at that and he turned away from the burning of his emotions, to take a deep breath before he plunged onward because now that he started, he couldn't stop.

"So, yeah, I really don't want to hear it from you. I don't need anything from you-I don't want anything from you-except for you to just get the hell out of here and leave me the fuck alone, okay?"

"Tony," he whispered even more melancholy than before, reaching for him with a hurtful sincerity.

"No-stop. I said stop! Don't touch me!" he squirmed at his touch, feeling like that same little boy all over again. Huffing out loud when he was, once again, quite predictably, ignored.

"It's not your fault, and I'm terribly sorry I could not intervene. You have no idea how hard I fought just to be with you, here and now," he breathed mournfully, pressing him tight against his chest and resting his head on the top of his. This was the closest that they had ever been and he got the odd feeling that it wasn't all for his benefit. It was then Tony realised how utterly weary he was. As if his visitor truly had been dragged through the ends of the earth and forced to see and do nightmareish things just so he could get back to Tony and comfort him.

"You fought for me?" he repeated, remembering all those times he wished someone-his father-would just try harder to connect with him. It was a very incomprehensible idea that someone would care for him like that.

'A reminder for those many days and nights you may not wish to remember but cannot forget, so let this now instead remind you that someone cares'.

Well, maybe not completely incomprehensible. Pepper was still by his side and this guy as well, when he did show up.

His whatever-you-want-to-call-him-her gripped him by the face only a few inches apart so that he could clearly see his eyes trying to express all the genuine heartfelt things. And he swallowed, hard, because 'try' wasn't the right verb. How about he fantastically, completely, totally, accomplished that.

"Of course, Tony, and I always will," he said way too simply for such an outrageous all-encompassing declaration. "You are not alone. I will never leave you to lead your battles without my aid. But there are some things you must do by yourself-try as I might to defy them-" his lips curled momentarily in the wake of all this seriousness, sharing the joke with him, and Tony smiled back shortly as well.

"And I cannot give you a life devoid of any and all pain-try as I might to defy that, too-although I give you my word that I will do my best to pick up the pieces and help put them back together. Can you accept this?"

He couldn't help it now. It all caught up to him; all the pain, the hurt, the fear, the rush of nearly dying that he had been trying to cover up and deny and all his honesty, his comfort, and his concern. He threw his arms around him, falling into his lap, and squeezed. "Thank you," he said quietly, a few tears sliding out while he was still shocked by his sudden display of everything that went against his rules. "Thank you for everything,"

They were so few words. How could he truly express how much he appreciated everything his visitor was to him in so few words?

His shock slowly melted away into a smile and he ruffled Tony's hair with a chuckle. "You do not have to thank me, child, I do it gladly."

They stayed in that position, Tony resting on his guardian as his guardian hummed the same old tune quietly and played with his hair, until well after Tony was lulled to sleep and the first few sounds of his snoring began. He woke up in his bed-the best sleep he had in a long time-to Pepper's knocking and reminder that he did have a press conference today and he better listen to Agent Coulson since he and his Strategic Homeland Intervention-security agency was graciously offering to cover up what happened.

He just smiled; he already knew what he was going to end up doing, there was no question of it. He was going to announce he was Iron Man, in a very dramatic way, of course. Not because he wanted-or needed, really-the fame, but because he wanted America know that there was someone willing to fight their battles for them, to give them a little bit of the comfort that he had found.

After all, he was going to be a hero, regardless.

He was promised.