Fingerprints of blood on gold

'Wow, you are looking better, Tony,' Pepper tells him when she visits on November 30th, two days after Tony's come home from the clinic. 'I mean, you still look like shit, but you look more… alive. She must be a good influence on you.'

'You're the one with the best compliments,' Tony teases. 'I've had a… relaxing two weeks.'

At least that isn't a lie, even if the bed rest had nothing to do with a girl – unless you count Roxanne in – and was rather forced. Also, working with Mark II has been nothing but a real pleasure. Tony's been working on the armor – even though it's theoretically finished – for a few hours every day, flying more and more, becoming better and better. Up in the sky he is nothing but a small object within a boundless space and it's more than he's ever dreamed of. It's – it's a complete opposite of the cave and the house and the hospital room. It feels like really being what he's always wanted to be.

'I've got news for you,' Tony says, and in exactly the same moment Pepper speaks up, too.

'I must tell you something.'

They exchange a look. Tony blinks a few times and bows a little.

'Ladies first.'

'It might not be nice –'

'Whatever it is, Pep, you're going to tell me anyway,' Tony cuts in and moves around to grab some snack from the fridge.

'Something is wrong with Mister Stane,' she says quietly, following him and sitting by the kitchen table. 'He's been behaving… strangely. I don't know what it is about and I don't want to guess, but maybe you should… talk to him?'

'Oh – I will. Okay. I wanted to talk with him anyway.'

'You did?' she asks with rightful disbelief.

'Yeah. High time, you know. I've got him,' Tony replays with an easy smile, putting a spoonful of pudding he's just opened into his mouth. Eating softer foods, easy to digest, is beneficial for some time, of course it is.

Obie has been absolutely mad with Tony since the press conference. It's been almost half a year and nothing has changed, only that the man uses sweeter and sweeter words; Tony doesn't fall for them, though. He's had his share of being stupid and naïve, like the young kid he was when he took over Stark Industries, and not much had changed through the over fifteen years he's been the CEO. Obie's priorities and needs have always been very different from Tony's own and they had arguments before – always between the two of them only, no need to give reasons for SI's stock rates to drop – but there has always been a possibility of a compromise.

Not this time, though – as soon as Tony came back from the clinic, he ordered JARVIS to take a close look at all the SI affairs to find out what is wrong there. Tony is not a hypocrite and he's not going to change anything outside of the limited environment as long as his own personal world is full of errors that need to be corrected. Take care of your own mistakes first, Mr. Stark.

Letting Obie rule in Stark Industries for so long has been one of those mistakes, even if it took Tony a long time to figure it out and let himselfacknowledge that. It would be easier to claim he doesn't know anything and keep pretending, but – not anymore.

'You wanted? –' Peppers unsure voice interrupts his thoughts.

'I'm sending you off for holidays,' Tony informs her, throwing the pudding cup to the bin skillfully. 'You've earned it. You've been taking care of all my mess for the last half a year and I am sorry for that… You know how I can get caught up in my own affairs. Thank you for all you did and I'm sure you know I couldn't have done it all without you – but you've earned some time off. Lets say… a month, the whole December, and the first few days of January. Do what you want. If you want money, I can give you money, or anything –'

'Tony,' Pepper interrupts firmly, looking at him suspiciously. 'Have you been drinking?'

'Not at all, unfortunately,' he replies, offering her a goofy smile. She always falls for that – well, sure this time it sounds suspicious, but he ishimself, Pepper has experienced stranger things happening… That would give him the possibility of not being under constant scrutiny for some time. Tony loves Pepper, like a sister or a friend or maybe the funny black sheep aunt – that's how he would image one, at least – but she doesn't know how to chill out or back down sometimes.

'How will you even manage to dress yourself?' she asks seriously and Tony uses all his self-control not to burst out laughing. Laughter is dangerous these days, it quickly becomes hysterical and then becomes sobbing and it's the last thing he wants.

'I've got JARVIS ready with his visual tips every time I wake up, Peppy,' Tony informs her in a tour guide voice. 'I will be fine. I don't think you've had a decent rest since you started working for me, and it's been like a decade!'

'Well, if you say so,' she agrees reluctantly. 'If you pull some crazy stunt when I am not here, you're dealing with the nightmare yourself.'

'Yes,' Tony affirms, voice bored. 'You say that all the time. But I will. I don't plan to do anything especially nightmarish and no, this time my excuse won't be the trouble finds me, I'm not Harry Potter.'

Pepper laughs and Tony manages to persuade her to take the jet and fly to Hawaii for two weeks, before she goes to spend some time with her family. She does leave on December 1st and Tony is left alone in the house – well. With Happy, living in his small separate apartments on the side of the building – but the man is surprisingly subtle and quiet, as if he weren't there at all. Tony adores it. Everyone underestimates Happy and it is even sweeter.

The week after Pepper's departure Tony spends working, making plans, eating, reading all the files JARVIS has managed to collect, trying to figure out how to deal with the clusterfuck he's found himself in and letting the A.I. talk him through bouts of murderous rage.

Because – Obadiah.

It's enough said. And Tony hates himself for having been so blind. Or – not exactly, he's suspected something was off in SI for a long time, but always just pushed the suspicions away because it was easier and better and left him carefree. He should have never been carefree with all the responsibility on his shoulders. Most of the world doesn't even know how big it is.

So, cliché or not, apparently being close – closer – to death makes you think. Tony's has a lot of time to think.

And it looks like his father figure has been lying to him for years, even before Howard's death. He's had his own agenda for decades and as long as the business was going the way that suited him, no one suspected anything. And if Pepper noticed something is wrong –

Ah. Tony just sight. It's time to act.

December 9th, before leaving the house, Tony gives JARVIS some numbers to run and tells him to supervise the work that the bots are supposed to be doing.

'And J – get all the data, you know which, organized for me. I will call Obie when I come back. We need to have… some words.'

'Yes, sir. Just be careful.'

'Always am,' Tony sings and waves at the nearest camera before hopping into the Audi and driving off.

A few minutes before 10 a.m. he's waiting for Doc and a radiation doctor he's going to meet for the first time, chatting with Roxanne who apparently has he shift again; Tony swears to himself to learn how is it possible that she's always at work. He probably could help; it's one of the perks of being a billionaire, you can help with most things whenever you can. And she definitely deserves it.

The doctors come at 10 sharp and they all sit comfortably in Doc's office; the talk before they can get started, it is a standard procedure and even if Doctor Samski – the radiation oncologist – read Tony's very recently created medical history, including all information on the arc reactor and the Afghan stories, there are apparently more questions that need to be asked. Then, after determining treatment field and marking it with tattooed dots Tony is ready for the procedure.

'Just a few more nice reminders of my life story,' he complains to Doc when they are going to the room where the whole magic will take place – well, not really magic, Tony has read everything on radiotherapy and the machines and he has all the theory of how it all functions in his head. Probably not a good idea, but he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't know, that's how he operates.

'Well, we can't compete with the pretty thing you gave yourself, boy,' Doc replies easily, not even looking back to see how Tony is smirking. It definitely is a nervous smile, but hardly anyone is able to tell that.

Getting everything in place takes ridiculously long and seems like a rather inefficient part of the process; it takes twenty eight minutes before Samski is satisfied with Tony's position and it's just four minutes of the radiation itself. Not everything can be efficient though and even if it's annoying, for someone with Tony's kind of mind. Five time a week for four weeks in total isn't that bad though.

'I did tell you about all the possible side effects… Often they do not happen at the beginning of the treatment but accumulate and get worse with time, so you might feel completely normal today, even if you will experience some problems later. Let's hope not. Just – take it easy,' Doc tells Tony when he is ready to leave.

''Till tomorrow,' he says, nods solemnly and disappears.

JARVIS has taken care of all the files that contain the problematic information, organizing them by year and month, but surnames that appear in the documents, by places, by numbers. There are so many from the last ten years only; before that they are less but surely the transactions have just not been done online.

'Obie, would you mind coming for dinner? I'll have something delivered. Something you like. Surprise. I've got something I want to show you.'

'Finally,' Obie sighs and clears his throat. 'I will come tomorrow at noon –'

'At three. I can't earlier and before you ask no, I don't have to explain to you why. I am a big boy. And I know you are still mad at me for the press conference and the decision, but I am ready to explain some things to you, okay?'

'You better have something good, kid,' Obie says in a low voice and laughs. 'I'll be there at three.'

Tony ends the call and sits by his one-car cinema, JARVIS displaying the most important information on the screens. Afghanistan. Sudan. Iraq. Iran. India. Pakistan. Mexico. Egypt. A handful of countries in central Africa. It's – it's a complete mess.

Nothing much happens during the day. Tony spends a few hours in the evening walking along the beach and trying to sort things out in his mind, with headphones around his neck – he's thought some good old rock would do him good, but the sound of the ocean seems to work better.

After that, he and Happy eat dinner, the man forcing Tony to eat – he really doesn't have appetite, but losing more weight now, during the treatment, would not be good at all.

'I want you to be on watch tomorrow, when Obi comes, just in case' Tony tells Happy, who looks up and frowns questioningly, waiting for al elaboration. 'I will have a talk with him and it's not going to end well. A talk or an argument, however you prefer to call it – you might have to keep me from strangling him with my bare hands.'

'What has he done now?'

'What hasn't he done,' Tony sighs. shaking his head with resignation. 'You will see. If I tell you now you'll think I've gone insane. I will have JARVIS record everything so you can have a peek via TV or whatever you want.'

'Okay,' Happy agrees and resumes eating. Tony smirks. It's another thing he loves about his bodyguard: he never seems fazed, not even by craziest things. A perfect man for the job. 'But, just for the record, you wouldn't be able to strangle anyone with those skinny arms of yours, boss.'

The second day of treatment, it all takes much shorter because it's just being positioned on the bed and then the big four minutes. Still no side effects, unless you count fatigue, but Tony couldn't sleep at night and stayed most of it up in the workshop, playing with flight stabilizers – there are still not perfect enough – so the tiredness could be from the lack of sleep.

And he's grown used to the heavy feeling in his limbs by now.

Obie comes at three sharp and the food is delivered a few minutes later, when the men are by the bar, Tony fixing them both some nice light cocktails. They eat first, pretending to enjoy a chit-chat about the media and SI stock prizes – what a lovely topic for late lunch – and make bad jokes; it's something that always happens around Obie, either you want it or not; he plays the role of funny, even if a bit patronizing, people's man perfectly.

When they are done with the food, they move to the living room and Tony asks JARVIS to pull up the data he's assembled on the big TV, and half a second later Tony has a gun aimed at Obie's chest, before the man can reach for his own, hidden under the jacket.

Obie looks appropriately stunned with his protégée's action, making Tony offer him a perfect smirk. He is tired and remotely nauseous and he really doesn't feel like playing games.

'I think you want to explain me some things,' he states in a sweet voice and gestures at Obie to sit. 'After you've handled me the three guns and the paralyzer you have on yourself.'

Obie looks up, his face unreadable, but he does take out all of said things and places them in the table for Tony to collect – then everything goes kind of easy. Obie is too inward-looking and arrogant and mad to actually filter his words. He makes threats and laughs and calls Tony a fuckup and a coward. The man talks a lot, certainly sure that Tony won't want to get the story public because it will put him in a bad light, too, it's just hard to believe that he could be that stupid, given that he is a genius. And even if he called the police, Obie could pay any bail that might be set.

So Tony continues smiling even though he's feeling as if he's going to throw up; he is not sure whether it's the radiation side effect or nervousness. At the same time JARVIS is cutting out fragments of the speech and sending them to a few major TV stations, together with a message Tony has prepares earlier.

It takes forty three minutes of holding the gun in his hand before Tony sees the data on the TV disappear and be replaced by a CNN news feed.

Obie seems to stop breathing for a few long moments.

'How could you,' he hisses in the end, in a low, dangerous tone, staring at Tony. 'How could you do this to yours, your father's, our legacy. Are you out of you fucking mind?'

I kind of am out of this world, Tony comments to himself silently, never taking his eyes of his friend. He doesn't reply and just waits for someone from the government to come, be that CIA or FBI or other secret men.

It takes them full twenty eight minutes to appear on the doorstep; Tony happily gives Obie into their hands and hands over a few hard drives with all the data they could need for an investigation, assuring them that he would be happy to testify whenever they will need him.

Pepper calls and, after shouting at Tony for half an hour, congratulates him and thanks for the SPA he's organized for her in Hawaii. Stark Industries is operating normally, but there is a big meeting scheduled for just after the New Year, since during Christmas period everyone has different worries.

The next morning Doc welcomes him with a smile, as does Roxanne and Samski, and they all wish him luck on getting on the right way.

On Saturday, Tony makes the first appearance in the armor over the Afghan land, and a few others countries'. It's surreal that he has to wait the three days before putting taking care of his affairs just because flying there and back and doing his job takes more time that he has between two visits at the clinic.

It repeats about a week later, after Tony's finished his radiation almost without side effects – at least those that would prevent him from flying. He's got a tender skin and a sunburn-like change where the beam enters the body, but it's nothing. He is tired a lot and sometimes nauseous, but Doc, Happy and JARVIS all take care of proper nutrition so it's not too bad. The whole cancer deal seems to be much less than he has feared when he has heard Doc saying it.

Maybe it's just luck, or maybe the fate really wants him alive.

There is no break for Christmas; Tony flies to all places where he knows for sure his illegally sold weapons are stored and destroys them. The first few days, it's only military that knows about this, but after a week – just before New Year's Eve – it's all over the news and the whole world demands to know what is going on.

Tony spends the whole day walking along the beach, shoeless, feet and calves getting wet, wearing a trench coat because of the strong wind, and thinking. There are a few things he theoretically could do and only one thing he can do realistically, given the kind of attention he is getting at the moment: mostly being called a collaborator and being accused of blaming everything on Stane to make himself appear innocent…

It's a mess, but at least he's had some time to think about it now, with a few more days he has before being thrown back into the different world, the different time-space of the hospital. The days began to fly now, and yet each one of them was stretched by renewed expectations and swollen with silent, private experiences. Yes, time is a puzzling thing, there is something about it that is hard to explain, Tony knows it's all been written down before.

'So, Stark Industries are in a disarray, from the managerial point of view of course. Nothing wrong with the tech, nothing is ever wring with the tech,' he murmurs to himself, his voice barely above the noise of the wind and angry waves. 'And I am the suspect. Of course. Not a good publicity, and we've been only establishing all the new projects not regarding military, so unstable. Unsure. Not good… Hmm. And – mixed opinions about my beautiful work in the armor. Blood all over the gold, that's what that girl on the news said, right? Only that she doesn't know enough to judge, the public can't know enough to judge… so, they're not going to give it a rest. If I say I am the armored hero-villain, they are going to lock me up or hunt me down. Or something. Mental instability, my ass,' he lets out a short deep laughter. 'Should I deal with it? I'm not sure I feel up to dealing with it, am I, hmm?'

The determination burning in his chest, driven by the anger, is not enough.

'I can't let the anger rule,' he continues, picking out a pebble from the sand and starting to turn the cold moist stone between his fingers. 'That would be the worst thing ever and Yinsen would just come back from the dead and haunt me.' A chuckle. 'And I would end up with a SI-made bullet between by eyes, wouldn't I? Sooo, not an option. I need to do – the right thing, the right, the right, what the fuck is the right thing here? I don't have time to figure it out,' he adds with a sigh, throwing the stone into the ocean; it disappears momentarily.

Tony walks until his feet are cold and his legs start aching, but when he comes back to the mansion, he knows what to do. He isn't sure, but all the other options are far worse.

It takes him half an hour to wrap everything up and send the video to TV, JARVIS taking care of making the signal untraceable, if anyone wondered where it came from.

New Year's Eve at eight p.m., the news begin with big red letters and excited reporters waiting to reveal an answer to the mystery to the whole world.

Tony sits on the sofa, with a prawn cocktail sandwich and a glass of champagne, and waits. It's a few seconds after the news' intro that a pretty blonde woman informs the whole nation that Iron Man – that's how they have been calling him the last few days – has made his move, and the feed switches to a video: there is just the armor sitting in an empty white room, devoid of any kind of items that could be identified, and when he speaks it's without lifting the faceplate, the voice artificially modulated to deep loud tones.

'Good evening to my fellow Americans,' Iron Man says. It's as much as Tony is willing to reveal, his nationality, even if there is no proof to that. Otherwise it could end badly. 'I have been watching all the media response to my actions with interest. Of course, you got most of the facts wrong, which was quite amusing and not unexpected, but that can be forgiven. I am not going to reveal my name or any kind of information you would like to know, but I want to assure you that keeping my identity secret is only to protect the people around me, my family and friends, which I am sure you can understand and respect.'

Tony smirks at he hears those words, it is only a half-lie. There are exactly two people he is going to tell the truth face to face, and both already suspect it.

'Regarding my current actions in Asia and Africa that have closely followed the scandal in Stark Industries, let me tell you that I have been waiting to make this move for a long time, but I needed you all to know why first – and that couldn't have been sped up. I waited to reveal myself to the world until the right moment and it has come: the times now are dangerous, there are many threats that we have not been not aware of that will come to light, we need all the forces we can muster to defend ourselves and others against them, so I am offering my help. must stand united. I am acting for the benefit of the free world – and at the same time doing Mr Stark a favor that I hope he will appreciate.'

It looks strange when the armor nods; Tony smirks wider at that, bringing the champagne glass to his lips – that's all he got permission from Doc to drink – and waits for the final words as the armor stands up gracefully.

'I, Iron man, am going to protect you until death takes me,' he pledges with a salute. 'Now, goodbye – and happy New Year.'

A/N: As you can see the universe starting to shape up here, any opinions would be invaluable to me :) I hope you've enjoyed what is happening here. Please let me know and thanks for reading! :)