Disintegration of Anthony Stark (part 1)

In March Tony is already long done with the treatment and more than familiarized with the chemo IVs that have more side effects that radiation, but there are only a few left and it's two or three days a month, not more. He still has fortnightly meetings with Doc and doctor Samski, but everything seems to be okay in blood work and on CTs. It's easy to build everything around this fading subconscious presence.

'So, maybe it's never been a big thing,' Tony tells himself when he's walking along the shore as has become his habit these months. 'It's just this: tumor, you get rid of the tumor, you suffer for a short bit and then you are done. Lucky. Other people have to undergo treatment for years, long years. We're lucky. The clue word,' he laughs briefly. 'But now I can say to myself that I have survived yet another battle, even if it was not even and it was not long. It's a good feeling,' he concludes, adjusting sunglasses. It's spring already, starting today, according to the calendar, but it always feels more or less like spring in Malibu.

The last few months have been exhausting and annoying more than anything, even despite the satisfaction that acting as Iron Man is giving Tony. He's been flying all over the globe and destroying all the arms and, thanks to JARVIS' help, he's helped out the army a few times with capturing some bad guys and taking care of rogue terrorists, but it's always been come-help-go, without communication, so Iron Man is still a mystery.

When Tony comes back to the house, already with plans for dinner – thank heavens it's Sunday, he's been working six days a week to take care of the mess at Stark Industries and between court hearings, the Board and invertors' meetings, consulting hours, talking to the media, staying in the clinic and saving the world, he's hardly had time to actually work on the R&D stuff that makes SI. Good thing that he's had a few projects saved up, never presented before, and they were rather well-received, so the stocks are holding steady, still too low but steady – he finds a message to Iron Man directed untraceably by JARVIS from an external server to his home network asking for a meeting.

Whoever sent the message is of S.H.I.E.L.D. which Tony is pretty familiar with so far; they have run into each other a few times since Iron Man started making appearances. Secret government agency, mostly unknown by the public, not much information available until you dig much deeper.

Iron Man, the message says, given your work for the benefit of the free world and against the forces that might be a danger to people of all countries, we would like to start a collaboration with you. It would give you authorization to do whatever you are doing now and help you avoid the inevitable backlash from the media and governments in the future, when the novelty of your actions runs out and you will be seen as nothing but a the bad one yourself, holding too much power without any control. You will be allowed to keep your identity secret, so there should be nothing to stop you from making the right decision. Name day and place and S.H.I.E.L.D. will be there to brief you in detail.

And a name at the end: Director Fury.

'Sounds intriguing, doesn't it?'

'It does indeed, sir,' JARVIS agrees and for a second Tony is confused as he's forgotten that he isn't talking to himself right now.

'How long did you estimation give me before someone from the good side tries to shoot me down or goes to the media with their dumb fears?'

'It was five months and three weeks – and three months have already passed – but remember that the data was too scarce and unsure to make a truly accurate prediction –'

'I know, I know, J,' Tony interrupts, waving at the A.I. 'No need to be meticulous here. But it is a valid concern, I mean, it really is inevitable… and what exactly will I gain?'

'If you go to the meeting, I am sure you will find out –'

'Rhetorical, that was rhetorical!' Tony exclaims, rolling his eyes, Sometimes JARVIS is a bit too persistent with his sarcasm. 'Well, I guess we can talk. Not like they could capture me if they wanted… how about Wednesday, on the top of Bank of America building? They are around here, right? I am sure they can get a pass to land a helicopter there, the crafty little things they are. At eight. I should be done with work for the day, right?'

'Last meeting scheduled at 6:30 p.m., but it's only pro forma, the contract is already being drafted up.'

'Perfect,' Tony agrees, nodding to himself and grabbing a bottle with chlorophyll. 'And tell Happy to move his lazy ass and come here because I won't be julienning all those veggies that he and Doc insist I eat all by myself.'

S.H.I.E.L.D. does find a way to install two people at the top of the skyscraper and by the time Tony gets close to the place, they are already waiting by the helicopter, both looking at a tablet one of them has in hand, but as soon as Iron Man lands they are waiting with arms crossed behind their backs and expectant faces.

'Director Fury,' Tony greets the dark-skinned man who cringes a tiniest bit at the metallic sound of Iron Man's voice. 'And…'

'Agent Coulson,' the other man supplies, giving Tony a small dry smile that disappears soon enough. The man looks so common that it's almost unbelievable.

'Pleasure to meet you both,' Tony smoothly replies. One good thing of having a computerized voice is that it doesn't show anything that you don't want it to show and that's always a good precaution.

'Can I get straight to the point or do you need any kind of information of overview of whatever before I can talk?'

'I know everything I want to know,' Iron Man responds, unmoving.

'I assumed you would,' Fury replies, sounding somehow content underneath the crudeness. That's good that he has at least expected his new asset to have brains and resources to check the agency before agreeing to the meeting. Tony wouldn't want himself either if he wasn't clever enough to do that. 'What we've got for you is a position in Avengers Initiative. It's a group of… extraordinary people. We are still looking for more suitable assets, but at the moment there is a Norse god you didn't know that has visited the Earth,' Fury pauses, giving him a look, and Tony shows a no with his hand. 'Okay. Two of our best agents who have rather excellent skills. The Hulk. Spider Man. You can also meet a few other people who we occasionally work with, even though they are not a part of the crowd: the Fantastic Four, X-Men… You get the idea.'

'Of course. Though I haven't seen a lot of them working… publicly,' Tony notes, staring to pace around the free space. The view of late sunset is enchanting, with city lights starting to shine stronger under his feet and a red and pink glow on west. He could just stare at it for hours.

'Yes, we try to keep most of our operations covert – unless it's inevitable or a bit of propaganda. Everyone needs some good publicity, no?'

'Of course,' Tony agrees, thinking about everything he's had to listen to about Stark Industries and himself, thanks to the scandal with Obie, and some of the comments he's heard about Iron Man already, even if most of them are positive. Public opinion is a bitch. 'What would you expect me to do, exactly? In your message you said I could keep doing what I have been doing. I value my independence.'

'Agent Coulson? He is the Avenger's handler,' Fury explains and takes a few steps back, standing next to the helicopter, his black coat dancing gracelessly on the strong wind.

'First of all, you would have to take part in the ops that S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers do.,' Coulson starts, his voice bland but pleasant. 'Sometimes it's the things you see on TV, where the superheroes save the day – especially Spider Man, he's our media golden boy – but most of the time it's ops that no one can know about even when they are finished. At least that's what it's been like so far. We debrief you and you go out with the team. It could be protection or capturing someone or assassination, recovering a person or an item, collecting data, anything. And those little missions of yours? We could make them official and if any questions arose, you would have the backup of the US government.'

'As easy as that?'

'We can do almost everything we want to do, Iron Man,' Coulson replies, with that small polite smile again, and raises one eyebrow in a perfect practiced movement. 'All you have to do is agree – and we can start from there.'

'I understand,' Tony assures the man and turns around, staring at the ocean reflecting last bits of red. 'And what if I cannot answer your call immediately?'

Hypothetical situation, Tony assures himself in his head. Been having helluva busy time with SI and – everything could happen, right?

'You mean, you'd have a job or something personal and you wouldn't be able to come?'

'Yes.'

'Well, hypothetically, being and Avenger is full-time job. But Spider Man, he only works with us around the US, and he comes and goes…. he lives in Ney York though, so it's easier for him,' Coulson says, playing with his tie. Fury is talking with someone over the phone quietly. 'We could make you a consultant, but I'd prefer to avoid that. I want to know who I can rely on, since it's practically my team. What kind of problems do you expect to encounter?'

'Ah. Most of the time I should be able to leave my… work within an hour from a call. That is reasonable enough not to cause problems or – suspicions. And the matter of getting these, of course, depends on where the said place would be. I can, obviously, get everywhere on my own though, no need to lifts.'

'That certainly is an advantage,' Coulson admits politely. 'How long does it take you to travel across the country?'

'Currently, three hours,' Tony replies dramatically, although it gets lost on the computerized voice. Coulson recoils slightly and blinks a few times. 'Two and a half after I install the upgrades I have been working on.'

'That's incredible,' Coulson offers, glancing back to check on Fury; the man is still on the phone, but his eyes are trained on Iron Man and his agent and Tony has a feeling that he can hear everything clearly. 'Very good.'

'I normally happen to be in New York quite often, though,' Tony offers; it's a half-lie, he hasn't been there that much recently, but before Afghanistan he spent half his time in Malibu and half in the Big Apple. 'So I should have no problem with losing time on flying across the country. I have… heard that you are nearby, that's why I proposed a meeting here in L.A.'

'Aren't you a resourceful one,' Coulson chuckles drily, no doubt making a mental note to talk with the IT guys. 'So, you're making a decision now?'

'Is there any decision to make?' Tony counters, spinning around and looking at the Agent's face through HUD. 'Or are you going to declare me an enemy of the state, pursue me and try to uncover my identity if I refuse?'

'I have no business whatsoever with who you really are, Mr. Iron Man, as long as you're on our side,' Fury cries across the roof; Tony offers him a armor-gloved wave.

'You can walk away from here and we'll never talk again, but then you are all on your own,' Coulson adds and then takes out a store-bough vacuum-packed donut with coffee glaze. 'Do you mind?'

'No, go on, I don't eat in the suit,' Tony offers, turning back to stare at the city below; it's all dark now, the lights and neons colorfully agleam. It's one of the things he appreciates most about flying: he gets to see all the incredible views, so many beautiful sights that are inaccessible for others. 'My last question is, what if I want to quit? Let say you'd need me and I would have to quit. You let me go, too?'

'You ask a lot of those questions, have some doubts?' Coulson asks around the doughnut bite, cocking his head slightly. The man is precious, Tony decides, and he would – he would hate Tony Stark.

'I am just human underneath the suit,' Tony replies, feeling the words in his body; he's just had the chemo two ago and even though it doesn't have bad side effects, there is some lingering nausea and tiredness, as well as the strange feeling in his arm where the cannula was placed; it will pass within another two or three days.

'Yeah,' Coulson murmurs, swallowing the last bite of the pastry. 'We haven't had anyone drop out yet, but let me assure you we won't hunt you down. That is – again – as long as you don't go rogue. And some… notice before could be nice, too. We're always on a lookout for more people to collaborate with; you know yourself what kind of a mess the world is becoming. It needs a response team.'

'You can count me in then,' Tony says in Iron Man's toneless voice and inclines his head – the helmet – slightly.

'I'm glad. Good to have you on board, Iron Man.'

'Glad my handler is not a moron,' Tony replies, making Coulson snicker slightly. 'I will see you?…'

'I guess you want to wrap some things up or take care of some business, so let's say I will see you within a month? I am sure you can find the New York Headquarters.'

'There is this great burger joint two blocks away.'

'Just like I said,' the agent acknowledges and starts walking towards Fury. 'We've reached an agreement, Director,' he states with a small nod. Fury turns his one eye to give Iron Man a scrutinizing look.

'Welcome in S.H.I.E.L.D.,' he states, hop on the helicopter and gestures at Coulson to follow; two minutes later they are far off, yet another black object in the dark sky.

'Let's hope we made the right decision,' Tony murmurs to himself, JARVIS this time doesn't offer any comment. Iron Man takes off the building's roof several minutes after the agents and does a few neat tricks to make himself invisible to all potentially-interested parties before even getting close to Malibu.

'Congratulations on officially becoming a state-licensed superhero, sir,' JARVIS offers eagerly when he flies into the workshop, the landing pad opening and starting to take the suit off Tony's body. His voice sounds almost not mockingly.

'Not me, baby,' Tony replies with a grin and then sighs. 'Not me. Iron Man.'

At least JARVIS doesn't ask if it's not the same.

Tony tells Pepper and Happy the next evening that they are moving to New York within a month. They are both very surprised, maybe more than Tony has expected – he has lived between New York and Malibu before Afghanistan, alternating between what he had to do for Stark Industries and what he wanted to do for himself – but there is no doubt in his voice.

Tony sends Doc an encrypted message, just a precaution, and tells him how things went with S.H.I.E.L.D. Later Happy learns the real reason, too, and agrees that it's the best thing to do now, especially that the change of place can be explained by the need to be closer to the core of the business, since there are so many problems to take care of in SI, so many things that need to be changed in order to bring the company back to real life and Tony is fully aware of the responsibility he has there: even if he could, theoretically, close all the factories and change SI completely or maybe just let it go, there are several thousand people in the US working there, not to mention all the associates abroad.

So, the next few weeks is a mess of meeting in court, trying to persuade the board to accept a few new projects that Tony has finally managed to find time for – and, in the meantime, moving things bit by bit. At least Tony has an apartment in NY so one thing down off the list.

It's soon a great moment to take care of another one.

'I need to tell you something,' Tony tells Doc when he is in the clinic for the day, the medication slowly dripping into his veins. 'We are moving to New York. It's for SI – you know we've got all the management there, all the main stuff, everyone claims they are sick of teleconferences and flying there and back – and the other thing.'

'You want me to move with you?' Doc asks; trust him to be the direct one.

'Your call,' Tony replies truthfully.

'Well, that is a stupid thing to be unsure about – I am coming. I will miss the warm weather, but on the other hand, I've been here for much too long for my comfort, you know what kind of a restless bum I am. Never set a foot longer that five years in one place.'

'I know, I know,' Tony agrees with a smirk. That is so true. Doc is just too restless to stay calm for too long. 'We need to do it soon. Maybe three weeks from now – any problem with me getting my nectar there?'

'If you have a place? No. I'm sure Lance will be happy to come over a few times, I will ask him and inform you – tomorrow, I think I should be seeing him tomorrow… Thanks, kid, at least I will have something to do now,' Doc murmurs, standing up; Tony knows he needs to go back to his other patients.

'Like?'

'Looking for a place to rent, of course,' Doc replies in a bit too happy voice; he does get excited like a kid sometimes. Tony thinks it's cute, since the man is some fifteen years older than him.

In the end, Samski agrees just like Doc said; Tony does have a place – a very private clinic, just like the one in L.A.; it's not a big deal, Samski says, he doesn't really have to come to give Tony the chemo; it could be anyone, but Tony doesn't feel comfortable at all with telling more people than necessary.

It is just three more times, anyway.

Two days after the chemo, Tony decides he does feel good enough and calls Coulson to tell him he will be coming over. Or Iron Man does.

The flight is nice and quick; it would be much nicer though if Tony didn't know that besides Iron Man's meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony Stark has a few meetings on his own that will be much less pleasant.

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters isn't difficult to find at all. It's conspicuously normal, come to think of it, but deception is the best trick one can use. Nobody would expect a secret agency in a normal building.

Tony doesn't even have to look for the entrance or go through whatever security they might have as he lands on the roof and a few moments later the agent comes up and greets him. Iron Man nods in response and follows the man inside, walking two steps behind Coulson through the vast corridors.

The whole thing is much less exciting that one could think of the secret agencies, at least at the time when all Iron Man is supposed to do is to read the rule book, say if he agrees and sign a couple of contracts that are not really important practically, but it's a boring twenty first century necessity. Coulson seems fine with all the paperwork though, probably for the best; he would go insane if all that managing job was no pleasure to him. How can a man even appear to like paperwork Tony doesn't know. He does everything he has to, as the CEO, of course, but sighing, making faces and complaining to no one in particular just all make it a bit more bearable.

Iron Man writes his signatures without taking the gloves off what gains a raised eyebrow and a curious look from the agent. His handwriting is not Tony's; it's neater, with less swirls, more artificial – more mechanical, no pun intended.

'So this is all?' he asks Coulson when all the papers are hidden into one of the desk's drawers. 'Or do you require anything else from me?'

'That's all. Like I told you before, we are having monthly meetings, besides any ops that might come up. I won't call you to assemble with the rest – unless it's a global crisis – until you attend at least one meeting and get to know your teammates personally. It's in eleven days. May 2nd. Monday morning. You can do that?'

'With the heads up, no problem,' Tony replies after looking at the timetable for the day, immediately displayed by JARVIS; it looks like he doesn't have a meeting or a court hearing, so it will be easy – well, that all makes sense, they are moving permanently on the 1st, so he would have a clear schedule. 'I will see you then?'

'Yes, you will,' Coulson murmurs in reply, looking with a frown at something written in an agenda-resembling item in his hands. 'I trust you will see yourself out.'

Iron Man assures him that of course, no problem, and disappears. Tony has an excellent sense of orientation so he would find the way easily, but with JARVIS help over the HUD display it's a piece of cake.

Then it's finally the first day of May and Tony, Pepper, Happy and Doc move to New York.

Doc goes separately, of course; he could go with Happy maybe, but he said he doesn't mind. It might also be the fact that Tony and his crew travel on a plane and Doc prefers good old buses, spending a full week to get to the East Coast with his stuff – two suitcases, not counting a few miscellanea that he asked Tony to take for him – and, according to what he texts Tony, it's a great time.

This is how the two of them met, too, back in mid-nineties: Tony was looking for some adventure – or maybe for some trouble, it's difficult to say – and he stopped right in the middle of a motorway that led nowhere and let the hitchhiker into his million-worthy car – and they hit off immediately. Tony was fascinated – still is – by the man who shares so many of his sentiments and preferred way of life that involves doing a lot of things that people would never think a Medical Doctor and an inventor-engineer-PhD-kind-of-doctor would even consider doing.

Tony has visited his apartment – well, more like one tenth of a skyscraper, there are six vast levels, mostly unused – a few times over the last weeks so it's ready to use; Pepper has her own place – they drop her off in front of the building before going to Tony's; Happy is staying with him.

'You sure?' Tony asks the man once again when the car is parked underground. 'I've got a couple more places in the city. I mean – you know how things are, you know how I am, you don't have to be dependent on me –'

'I want to, boss,' Happy cuts in, rolling his eyes. 'I know you can be a pain in the ass, but I also know that you can be helluva stupid when you don't control yourself, so someone's gotta watch over you.'

'I have JARVIS for that,' Tony counters, getting out of the car and moving to open the rear door to take his bags. 'He's got enough sass to nanny me into eating baby formula for breakfast, if only he decided that is what would be best for me.'

Happy snickers, making a face, and nods in agreement. That isn't that improbable.

'Okay, then you can think I want to stay here 'cause it's got the best view of all your places and when you order food, it's always the best in town.'

'That I can agree with,' Tony comments, shutting the door as everything that's been inside is balanced in his hands.

'And, so that I can gang up with JARVIS and cover for you when you're feeding your superhero ego, Iron Man.'

'I knew I hired you for a reason, those long years ago,' Tony concludes with a grin and pats the man's back. 'Time to go up and get some Sunday rest before we're back among the wolves,' he adds and they take the elevator straight to the top level.

The next morning is Iron Man's first team date day, though not everyone is present in the conference room at 1000 hours – Thor is still in Asgard, that's what Tony has learned from a file Coulson sent Iron Man, along with some info on the prince, since they don't know when the god will be back to introduce himself.

Spider Man in his usual costume – Tony would like to know very much what it is made of, exactly, but that's a Tony thing to ask – but Banner, Romanov and Barton are in everyday clothing, Tony notes when he enters the room. Coulson greets him, sitting at the end of the table in his usual smart suit but with sleeves rolled up and no tie in sight.

'Take a place wherever you want and let's move on to introd–'

'You make us sound like an AA group,' the archer cuts in, gaining a really, Barton? look from Romanov.

'– introducing Iron Man to our protocols, Barton, not to each other, you can shake hands afterwards. I know you might be free all day but some people here actually work.'

Barton pouts and Tony snickers inside the suit, but Iron Man just takes a place two chairs away from Banner, in front of Spider Man.

'You need to give us some detail on what you can do,' Coulson tells Iron Man, taking out an engraved pen from his pocket and starting to fill out some fort. 'So that we'll know exactly how to plan the ops with and without you.'

'Of course,' Tony agrees, closing his eyes, and then recites all the data that might be important and is not revealing too much, and answers questions coming from all the team members – so that they might know what they can count for and how the collaboration might theoretically be like. Tony appreciates a lot the detailed and individual approach; JARVIS is transforming all the information in data and putting them in respective files straight away, to review later at home.

When they are finished, an hour and at least one cup of coffee for all but Tony later, everyone leaves the room looking tired, as if it was the evening and not eleven a.m. Coulson tell Iron Man that he will probably have his first op this month, if everything goes as planned; Iron Man nods, says okay and turns around to leave, but Coulson speaks up again.

'We'd like to make it official,' he states. Tony frowns at that, but it is just to himself.

'Yes?'

'You being on the team. It would be good to be a step ahead of everyone who might want to sanction you – better not to give the public reasons to judge you more than they are already starting to do. A statement coming from us, you or us and you?'

'Just you,' Tony decides. He doesn't feel like adding to his schedule more human interaction than he's already forced to deal with, even if he were to be shielded by the suit. 'I don't particularly feel like being in the spotlight like that.'

'All right,' Coulson agrees, putting the scattered papers from the table into a folder. 'I will talk with Director, out legal and PR teams and we'll do it sometime this week, I will notify you.'

'I will be waiting,' Tony replies and leaves the room, going straight to the roof to take off. He would love to talk to Banner – the man is a genius and his work really is unparalleled, it would be an instant science madness – but it's so Tony. Maybe there will be some other opportunity in the future; Tony makes a mental note to try to persuade the doctor to come over to consult one project or another for SI at some point. He just needs some good reasons there.

S.H.I.E.L.D. issues an official statement two days later, holding a small press conference – the information spreads quickly and it's all over the news when Tony comes back home after a day he spent in R&D and his office, looking at new applications for the few new posts SI is creating. At least that looks promising, the only bright moment of the boring and rainy day: since SI is still having problems with public opinion and investors – Obadiah trial is far from being over – there are no usual big names between the applicants, but many young very clever people seem to be taking advantage of the situation. Tony understands that perfectly: they may not have much to their names, so most big companies wouldn't trust them enough, but Tony has the gift of seeing things in people and he knows that after the interviews he himself will be conducing, he will find a real jewels to recruit.

So, the next few days, Tony squeezes the talks into his schedule.

'If someone doesn't have a problem with the fact that the interview will be taking place in R&D while I am looking at the results of the most recent stimulation for whatever I am to oversee today, and maybe even offer some comment or insight – that definitely isn't bad, baby,' Tony tells JARVIS when he asks if he should make space in the timetable for some uninterrupted office time for when the people come.

'I see your point, sir,' the A.I. replies, making Tony smile triumphantly.

Tony ends up filling all positions within a week, hiring three crazy men over sixty – Irvin, Berry and Gilbert – who have been friends their whole lives, but never got official education after high school; instead they have been factory workers by day and garage inventors by night, for decades. Their ideas are incredible, useful and clever and cheap – Tony appreciates designs that can be almost made out of scraps, thank you, so he immediately sends them to work with the SI branch that develops mass production items of everyday use for third world countries. The other new employees are a mixture of nine, men and women alike, and they are delegated to departments respective to their area of study and go straight to work, with motivation and avidity that is rare to be seen, what totally makes Tony's day.

On Saturday, in the middle of the month, there is another event that might end up being nice, hopefully, although Tony isn't sure if he can say successful – he doesn't know how he should measure that since recently he seems to hold things to different standards than the world around.

It's a simple thing: starting a charity organization that will be taking care of orphans in the countries where US army is stationing for long-term missions – and yes, mostly Afghanistan. Of course Tony expects it to be a x-rayed by the media and followed by the usual comments.

There isn't even a big gala, since Tony doesn't feel like hosting one of those and he has other things to waste time and money on. There is only a relatively small meeting in the New York SI Tower, in the reception hall, and all that happens is Tony giving a speech, then sharing words and smiles with everyone around as they mingle sweetly. Tony is nursing a headache after another working Saturday that began at 4 a.m. and all he wants is to go back to sleep and don't get up for at least twelve hours, preferably three days, but when he is in the smart tailored suit, he automatically keeps his back straight and a smile plastered on his face and pretends he in enjoying himself so well that usually he is even able to believe himself.

'This is all very nice,' a woman says behind his back when Tony is pouring himself a cold coke over some ice and lemon; he turns around to see a half-familiar face, but he can't place the name. 'Loreen Baker, Daily News. The whole concept is very nice, Mister Stark.'

'Thank you, Miss Baker,' he risks a bit, but she doesn't make a face so he's guessed right.

'But,' she starts and Tony stifles a sigh, there is always some but. 'Isn't all this just an attempt to draw the attention away from all the problems you are experiencing, and Mister Stane's trial? The timing seems convenient.'

'Well, I don't think I would be able to draw your attention from out affair even if I tried hard, which I am not doing because I spend all my time on restructuring Stark Industries so that we won't have to fire out employees,' Tony replies sweetly, offering her a smile and feeling the headache pound in his temples. Not good at all. 'Besides, I started the process soon after I came back home after my… captivity… It only took so long to obtain all the necessary permissions and agreements, since the charity is working internationally.'

It will be a year in a week, missy, if you don't realize, Tony adds silently to himself.

'That's very noble of you.'

'I try to do what I can,' Tony offers, knowing perfectly well that she will say and then write what she wants anyway, she's just the type. No real need to explain or make up excuses.

'It still seems like you are trying to buy positive opinions about yourself and your business, though, Mister Stark. You support other charities, don't you?'

'Yes, I do – but that's the keyword: other. I don't really care what it seems like, Miss Baker, as long as these children there do get the help that we intend to offer to them.'

'You've got an answer prepared for every question,' she comments, making Tony want to scream and run away. Or maybe not scream, he really needs painkillers right now.

'I'm a genius, sweetheart, I don't need to pre-prepare anything, it all comes to me naturally,' Tony replies in a low voice, takes the last sip of his coke; them he offers the woman a subtle salute and disappears into the crowd. It isn't long before the party is over and Tony can finally go back home. Happy offers him an advil as soon as he gets into the Rolls Royce; the man is truly a gem. Tony has managed to brush off Pepper, but Happy always knows.

On Sunday morning – or early afternoon, since Tony managed to stay asleep like a baby – people don't have better things to do than gossip, apparently, and the first thing Tony sees when he asks JARVIS to turn the TV on is a celebrity gossip program in which his persona is being discussed by a team of three tall skinny brown-haired and brown-eyes women that could be triplets but are not. Apparently they came back on after advertisement break.

'What the action lacks, according to our friends who attended the event, and according to today's newspaper headers and online comments, is genuineness –'

'JARVIS, off. I've had a very informative five seconds and I don't want any more of that for the rest of the day.'

'Of course, sir,' the A.I. responds and obeys, turning the TV off, the bedroom becoming blissfully quiet again.

It's been pointless to have even the slightest hope that the media will actually understand that Tony's action is not aimed at buying their good words because hey, what is happening is exactly the opposite and Tony is smart enough to have predicted that. It's easier for them to ignore logic though.

'Wonder how long it's going to take before anything I do is not going to be analyzed by a horde of sensation-thirsty journalists,' Tony mutters to himself, sitting up and slowly dragging himself out of the bed. 'Probably forever.'

At least the headache is gone.

The last five days of May turn out to be busy: on 27th there is yet another court hearing where Tony is supposed to testify, so he spends a few long hours browsing the data and trying to predict what exactly might be in question this time and generally trying to remember most of the situations he's going to be asked about. The problem is finding balance between knowing satisfyingly enough and not too much; he's got a very good memory, not quite eidetic but not too far off, so giving a lot of details would be easy, it would only make everyone think that he's making things up. Even with the proofs, people tend to be distrustful in such situations. Tony has to agree that they might partially be right; it's difficult to understand that someone as intelligent as him could just dismiss all signs of problems for years what he did, he can't believe that himself.

Time to pay for the stupidity, he tells himself entering the court. Happy by his side as always, Pepper already waiting inside.

Tony plays the game of finding balance carefully, with skill and ease, even though it gets harder as four hour have passed, half of which was listening to testimonies he could hardly concentrate on; fortunately after a break and another hour of questioning, the judge adjourns the meeting and sets another in three weeks.

The next day is Friday and it's chemo day – normally that would be 26th, but a day before the hearing wasn't a good idea; 28th doesn't seem like a much better option, really, since it's Tony's birthday the next day, but this year there is no party planned. He hasn't even gotten that many regretful messages and pleads to organize a party like he did for the last… twenty years of his life as the women love those and would give their firstborn for being able to kiss Tony, not to mention do something more. Still. Even if there are fewer of them now, given Tony's stunted social life these days and his self-imposed half-reclusion after Afghanistan.

He has JARVIS send them all a message that maybe next year.

The truth is that it's his 40th birthday and for once, he doesn't want to spend the time drunk or hangover or having sex with a random cute female.

Pepper gets a day off – from her PA job, too, since it's Saturday evening and she's been working a lot recently – and Tony gives her a double ticket to a classical music concert of some quartet that JARVIS knows she likes, with a note saying: you have always knows I prefer giving to than receiving. Have a nice evening in my name. T.

After the chemo – second last, Tony keeps reminding himself, he is feeling rather faint and slightly nauseous and spends most of the day in bed; at least no one is surprised that he's taken some days off around his birthday, not even the silliest men from of Board. He's been in SI six days a week for months, so he's bound to take a few days off simply for rest. It does end up being rest days, in a way.

The birthday itself is calm and funny and mellow all at the same time; Tony is still not feeling very well so there is no madness going on: it's just him, Happy and Doc eating, drinking – non-alcoholic, obviously – and sharing embarrassing and cool stories from their lives, all with some football match in the background. Tony and Happy cook the dinner, Doc brings a meringue torte from his favorite bakery where he has to drive forty minutes each way; the incredible taste is doubly appreciated.

Sunday is another lay-in day, with Happy and Doc still staying around what Tony greatly appreciates. Especially homemade waffles for breakfast that seem to satisfy the hunger he's felt as the nausea dissipated.

May 31st, Tony gets his first mission as an Avenger that is not his own – he didn't have time for more than one of those, anyway – and it is to retrieve a hostage from a hidden base in the rainforest of Brazil where he's been captured after trying to infiltrate a AIM-associated science center half a country away.

Good it's not that far away, Tony thinks when he suits up; there is still some lingering tiredness in his body and flying somewhere far like China or Australia wouldn't be much fun. Unless he tried to test sleeping in the suit, but that doesn't seem like a very good idea – and JARVIS would be far from happy.

What would be difficult to anyone else is easy for Iron Man: all he has to do, in the end, is fly into the base, shoot a couple of bullets fire couple of tranq shots – there aren't even many guards, it's clearly only a prison-like facility, far from an actual base or headquarters – retrieve the half-conscious man, wrap him with a special heat-keeping foil and fly low over the jungle, with the body in his arms, being quick and delicate – and then arrive at an extraction point where S.H.I.E.L.D. is waiting with a medic and a helicopter twenty minutes later.

There: piece of cake if you have a flying suit equipped with the best antiradar on planet and special-technology panels that make the armor look almost invisible.

Then it's only a matter of filling out one form and a brief talk with Coulson and Iron Man is reminded that the monthly meeting is, in fact, the next day.

At 1000 hrs it's the group is already seated by the table when Iron Man arrives punctually. He takes his place, turns his helmet to look at Coulson finishing his coffee, and the debrief starts. Iron Man gets praised for good work and Tony would be thankful if he weren't just tired; it makes him grin like mad anyway under the faceplate. It was a lovely thing, to go on a mission, with a purpose in his mind, not having to kill anyone or destroy anything, just – save a life. A nice change.

After a short coffee break they go back to discussing the strategy and two missions for the whole team that are slowly brewing up in the East; at 1300 hrs they are done, Iron Man disappears and Tony Stark has a scheduled meeting with Pepper about the art collection and the upcoming Stark Industries Education Foundation gala. Another perfectthing to occupy mind with, Tony notes irritably.

That's it for his week off.

The gala takes place two weeks later, on Saturday, and contrary to launching the previous charity, this one is a well-established tradition that has been started by Howard back in 60s, even before Tony was born; it has always taken place in the same building, hosting over 500 guests, and it's tiring to even think about it, but – not a good moment to break a tradition right now. Pepper and her team have been working on organizing the monster for half a year.

Tony puts on a slim-fitted navy blue suit with a creamy shirt, a burgundy tie – with a perfect self-tied Eldredge knot – and matching burgundy shoes; it's half because he can and half because eccentricity is what is expected of him.

The gala starts at seven but given that some guests, some stars, are bound to appear fashionably late, Tony's opening speech isn't until 2000 hrs.

'I would like to welcome you at forty eighth annual Stark Industries Education Foundation gala,' he starts finally and all the noises cease immediately; it's fascinating and discontenting at the same time, being on the stage in front of all those people; sure, it's something Tony has always been used to – been trained for, too – but it feels particularly unsettling this time.

Last year he hasn't been to the gala; it's was only a short time after he came back from Afghanistan; he didn't even watch it on TV.

So, being followed by hundreds of scrutinizing eyes tracing his every movement, waiting for a mistake, commenting on his words, especially when he's up on the scene in front of all of them – it makes him just unsafe. As if someone was going to notice the arc reactor and ask, strike, fucking hurt him; as if someone was going to notice a crack under his perfect mask's surface and he'd be exposed; as if someone was going to figure out his two big secrets and he'd have to deal with that, too, ah – but he's obsessing again.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

'I was not present at the gala last year,' Tony says; it's strange that all those thoughts flicked through his mind so quickly, he apparently didn't even appear to be staring into space; Pepper or Happy or JARVIS would scold him. 'You all know the reason and it's not what I intent to talk about today – but it is where something new has started for me, for Stark International and hopefully for all of us. You must recall what I said during the first press conference: I had my eyes opened. I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up,' Tony recites. There is a small wave of giggles and a few comments raising from the crowd, so he nods and flashes them a smile. 'I am now – and I will be – paying for my ignorance and stubbornness that's been going on for years before my eyes were opened: that is what you can see in the news these days, or read about. But this is not something I want to talk about today, either,' he makes a pause letting the crowd share a few words before it falls silent again; he's not in hurry. 'There are many things that can be done – that need to be done – to improve the world around us and I believe that we, who have the means to do it, are obliged to make things happen. It is out obligation to ourselves, to our children, to our country and to our world to provide the young ones with the possibility of education and using all of their skills and abilities, as it is not us that will change the world – well, it might be me, but not most of you, pardon my honesty –' a wave of laughter, Pepper shakes her head in disbelief like she always does, Happy stifles laughter, Tony can see, '– and that is the Education Foundation's goal, to reach out to the kids that want to – but are not invited to play. We have hired, recently, nine incredible people, all too young to be regarded seriously by most employers and probably most of you, some of them without a college degree yet that we will help them obtain. And yet I am sure that putting my future in theirs hands has been the best of all choices. The enthusiasm and the new approach that they all show – from kids to young adults – is something that we all should learn. Therefore, in the light of recent events, I would like to ask you to leave behind your grudges and irrational problems,' there is a murmur raising among the audience, but Tony's voice is stronger. 'And all I would like to ask you is this: spend one evening thinking about what I say here now. Just one. And if you decide that I am right – which you should feel morally obliged to do, at least as long as you are here, availing yourselves of Stark International and my personal hospitality,' laughter again, more than consternation, good, ' – if you decide that I am right, do your best to help out one kid. There is about five hundred of you, unless we've got some unannounced guests, so it's that many kids that we could support. Last year, the Foundation helped – I have memorized the exact number here – one thousand nine hundred ninety seven kids. Tonight, all I want to ask form you is not money donations to the Foundation, you know I've got enough, but it is to give one kid a chance. And nothing should make us happy but that. So, for now, thank you and again, welcome!' Tony finishes, bows deeply, waves at the crowd – they seem rather happy and moderate, not too bad for these days – and then he walks off the scene.

'You were great, boss,' Happy offers, handing Tony a bottle of water; it always is so hot with all the strong light trained on you.

'You might be the only one who thinks that,' Tony sighs, finishes the water quickly and adjusts his tie. 'Shall we?' he asks Pepper, offering her an arm, she rolls her eyes but takes it and, leaving Happy to observe from the shade, they step into the crowd.

The next morning Iron Man is called in at 0400 hrs to help Hawkeye and Black Widow with a situation involving a woman from top 20 of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s wanted list who has been sighted in Chicago, of all places – she has somehow managed to mislead everyone into thinking she was in Europe. Tony doesn't dwell on that too much, though, most of his thoughts circle around thank heavens it's Sunday because he has a few important meetings the next day and making decisions between Iron Man and Tony Stark is something he's happy to avoid for as long as possible.

The mission is simple: catch the woman and hand her over to S.H.I.E.L.D. alive; it turns out to be easier than expected with Iron Man's input, mostly because when Widow and Hawkeye incapacitate the woman's bodyguards, all that Tony has to do is grab her and take off – and no one can follows him straight up in the sky.

'Eeesy,' Tony sings-songs to himself when they are done before noon and mostly because S.H.I.E.L.D. insisted on waiting for the most opportune moment; it was full two hours before Coulson called it. 'Could do that every single day,' he adds when the suits is unwrapping around him. 'Which number was she again?'

'20, sir,' JARVIS replies promptly, already running hot water in the bathroom.

'That bastard,' Tony laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. 'He said top 20, I didn't think it was the lame end of top 20. But okay. Better than nothing…' he keeps talking as he undressed and then jumps into the bath full of pleasantly warm water. 'Music, J.'

A soft rock ballads immediately starts to pour seemingly from nowhere: the A.I. always knows perfectly what Tony's in mood for.

After the bath and lunch Tony goes down to the mini workshop that he has here in the apartment; his big lab is in the SI building a few blocks away. What he has here is mostly computers, holo-screens and, in a well-hidden room, three Iron Man suits, a couple of spare arc reactors and some parts, just in case.

Before Tony starts to actually do something, he asks J to turn on the TV on the main screen as he prepares himself a cup of coffee – as soon as he hears the voices he knows it's the three brunettes again.

'JARVIS, baby, are you trying to give me a heart attack or make me shoot myself? Or is this purely accidental, sir?' Tony whines and pouts at the nearest camera. JARVIS, wisely, doesn't reply until Tony takes a sip of his coffee.

'They just seem to summarize the opinions about yesterday's gala pretty well, sir. And they give a rather comprehensive overview, even if somehow narrow-minded.

'Comprehensive narrow-mindedness? You're reaching new levels of absurd, J, watch out… How does that work?' Tony adds, sitting in the comfortable armchair by the main desk, legs hugging his chest, touching the arc reactor softly.

'They seem to present all three popular opinions about you.'

'Me? Not the gala?'

'They seem to think the gala was you,' JARVIS offers and Tony snickers into the cup.

'So?'

'The first is: you continue the noble tradition that has been established by Stark International all those years ago and focuses on the young people you have mentioned; this one is the least common. The second is: you did all that to keep people's mind away from the fact that SI is a falling empire to fool everyone into believing that by the new influence of young people you could still fix the company and therefore trick people into making a specific business decisions. The third, most popular, is that you're trying to simply buy the good grace of the public, since you are still suspected of collaborating with Mister Stane. It isn't as much about SI as it is about you yourself, sir.'

'What a beautiful fucking life, J,' Tony sighs and finished the coffee in two big gulps. 'Is there anything I could do without them bitching about me on TV?'

'I am sure something –'

'Don't, baby,' just don't,' Tony stops the A.I. and then gets up. 'Tell Happy to go up if he can, I need to spar with him, let out some steam… I can't believe they are all so moronic,' Tony murmurs as he climbs up the stairs.

Happy meets him in the gym five minutes later.

'Give me all you've got, I'm a bit mad right now,' Tony says before getting onto the ring. Happy nods – no need to explain what it's about – and then they get started.

June 26th is Tony's last chemo and a meeting with the doctors the next afternoon.

'So, that's it?' he asks Doc and Samski after the CT and blood tests they've done seem perfectly clean and there is no indication that something might be wrong.

'Yes. We need to meet every two months, for now. We usually do that less often, but you know how it is with health services…'

'Yup. I've got money to pay, I can demand things.'

'Exactly, yes, I wish I could do that with everyone, but… Never mind. Now, the best thing you can go is stay as healthy as possible, but I know you eat well and have exercise and all that, you don't smoke, no weight to lose – I still think you could put some on, you know it – so what can I say. Keep an eye open on any signs at all that something might be wrong and give me a call if anything happens.'

'All right,' Tony agrees with a smile. That's easy.

'I'll be going then,' Samski says as he stands up. 'There are a few things I wanted to do in the city before my flight back. Well. Good luck, Stark.'

'Thank you, Doctor,' Tony replies, shaking the man's hand. 'For all this.'

'Sure. Now, gentlemen, have a nice day,' the man says and disappears in the corridor. Tony closes the door after him and sits on the armchair in front of Doc's.

They stay in silence for a few long moments, nothing but remote muffled voices audible form the corridor, mixed with the softest buzz of electricity present in every building with fake light and air conditioning turned on.

'So, it's really gone?' Tony asks again, breaking the silence, his voice sounding somehow drowning within the calmness of the yellow-colored sunny afternoon. It all feels to surreal.

'Yes, Tony. You are okay now – as much as someone with a personal with a peak-of-modern-science-powered thing in their chest might be… How has it been, by the way?'

'I boxed with Happy a lot the other day. Believe me, if I didn't, I would have done something stupid. Blown something up or something… Anyway. It hurt a bit afterwards, but nothing more than usual. I'm more used to it, it's… a constant slightest ache, more like an awareness of the thing in my chest than anything else. It's healing every day, even after all this time. Well, that, and Happy knows how to throw a punch without breaking the trinket,' Tony adds, tapping on the invisible reactor. Doc laughs shortly.

'You really should try some other things and not just boxing, kid,' he comments, looking at Tony questioningly even though he knows the answer.

'I do and it's all okay but when I am angry, it's the best way to let it go, you know.'

'What made you so angry then?'

'Just the usual? Stupid people? The media?' Tony asks rhetorically, sighing with resignation. 'I guess I was foolishly hoping, against my better judgment, that hosting a ball like every fucking year and giving millions to disadvantaged kids for their education because they are crazy smart and deserve it and the will really change this shithole – I thought they would have nothing to find fault with. But apparently the whole gala was my selfish what-ev-er, I don't want to remember the exact words.'

'And you thought you knew better than to listen to those words.'

'I do know better,' Tony says, emphasizing the do and giving Doc a long look. 'I thought I would say fuck them and forget, but it just – made me annoyed. And disappointed. I know that the SI mess is partially my fault –'

'You know what your real fault is?' Doc cuts in, leaning forward to be closer to Tony.

'What?'

'You are a terrible judge of a character – don't make that face – when it comes to people that you anyhow care about. Just be honest, you are amazing with lots of things, but when someone gets closer to you, you have no idea what to do and you feel terrible when you think bad of them or when you don't trust them fully even if they didn't deserve it. Do I need to remind you all the names or –'

'Nah, I get it,' Tony admits. What Doc says is true and it applies to the man himself, even; Tony hates judging people who are close to him, starting with Pepper and going back to Tony's first serious girlfriends. It's because he has been judged himself all his life, and talked down a lot, mostly by Howard, and he still wouldn't want other people to feel the same way he did for so many years. Don't do unto others what you don't want others to do unto you.

'So, we go celebrate to a bar?' Doc asks after a few more minutes of silence.

'Somehow I don't feel like celebrating,' Tony replies, making an apologetic face. He should feel like it, he knows, it's only logical, but he's still tired because of all the work – another round of 72 working hours a week; he's not in top condition after the chemo yet, too, so all he wants is to get some good food, have JARVIS play him a movie, and rest.

Especially as the next day begins with 8 a.m. R&D meeting.

'Pizza?'

'You won't leave me alone?'

'If I do, you'll get drunk 'cause you're in the mellow mood today and that never ends well, and I know Happy is out of town for the day with Pepper – right? And you don't want to be hung-over at work tomorrow.'

'No, I guess I don't,' Tony agrees.

'So, pizza from Lombardi's, root beer and some terrible action movie?'

'It's a mellow day,' Tony repeats the man's words with an obvious smirk, standing up. 'We need something more subtle… I think a robotic horror thing, like you call them, will do.'

The first day of the month, as always, marks an Avenger's meeting and it's the most interesting thing that happens for over three weeks.

There is no mission for Iron Man for the moment; it seems that even superheroes – and supervillains – have some time off for summer holidays, Tony comments to himself. It's not something Iron Man, who appears to be rather composed and rational, at least for the moment, would say.

July therefore passes between court and SI tower where Tony is personally overseeing several R&D projects and working on his own. His own lab back at home is not completely satisfying and he'd need a few more months, at least, to even consider working in Howard's workshop in the 5th Avenue Mansion; it would be just too fucking distracting and Tony doesn't have time for detractions, even with Pepper's increasing help with all the organizing part of his CEO work. Sure, he has professionals to help him with things, but they don't understand him, it's just another set of people who don't get him on the most basic levels. And firing them now to look for someone else would be too much of a revolution with all the mess they already have to deal with.

At the end of the month there is one event Tony has been waiting for anxiously: it's a private meeting in a children's hospital where SI Medical has been donating experimental medical equipment for testing in real life conditions.

There are a few kids with cancer there, he knows, and he probably shouldn't have some feelings about it, but he does. Not that he can show any of them; he can't even tell the kids he understands and can't explain why, because come on, these are children and even if they don't want to tell the secret, they might do so anyway.

Tony and Pepper arrive at the hospital at noon and one of the nurses comes to greet them. They meet with the hospital's manager first, but it's mostly pleasantries and promises – and praises, the personnel is highly satisfied with how the equipment has been working. That brings a smile to Tony's face and he has wears it for the rest of the day and it's not even fake.

Then it's time to visit the kids and see the famous real life conditions. It's two hours of walking from room to room, greeting kids and chit-chatting with them and Tony is – surprising everyone but Pepper who has known that for a long time – really good with kids. They appreciate a lot that he doesn't lie; honesty is highly valued, especially in their life situations.

'Mama said you were in a hospital, too,' one six or seven-year-old girl states, eying Tony mistrustfully. 'You don't look sick,' she says accusingly in the end.

'I'm not sick now,' Tony says. It's not a lie at all. He smirks internally. It isn't. 'I was a bit sick and there was no doctor where I was for some time so I got a bit more sick, but I'm okay now. I've been lucky,' Tony replies. There. It's all truth, too.

'So what do you do now?' she asks and Tony blinks, trying to figure out her logic, but he can't find the right connection. She seems to notice that though. 'Mama says I will go to school when I am not sick.'

'Oh, I go to work,' Tony replies, nodding in understanding. He is fully aware of the few other people staring at him – the adults, he can be almost sure they have seen enough TV to know what's going on exactly, but no one feels it's necessary to mention it, thank heavens.

There are several more kids he talks to and when they are finished, he manages to talk Pepper into a late lunch in one of their favorite bistros.

Everything seems fine and Tony is so pleased with the time he could spend away from the scandals, the problems, the people talking, everyone arguing, everyone being silly and petty and pointless. He appreciates even the time away from his machines – no matter how much he loves them, he just sometimes needs a break.

He tries not to appear overly happy with the whole thing, anything uncharacteristic would be easily noticed by Pepper and would end in questions and even if Tony doesn't have that much to hide at the moment, it wouldn't end well is she was too suspicious.

Then, a few days later, of course one of the parents – there is no finding out which one, they asked to remain anonymous, not that Tony would actually do something to them if he knew – talks to press and tell them about Tony Stark's visit and the whole buying people thing comes back twice as vicious and Tony doesn't really care what they say about him, but he cares about the fact that suddenly, he's basically harassed for comments everywhere he goes; talked about everywhere, all the time. He is too tired for that shit and he doesn't know why it's so blown out of proportion; it's like he's the media's favorite prey now and there is nothing else to write about because it's the middle of summer. Dead season.

Tony isn't sure if he is feels more resigned or angry about the whole situation.

Probably resigned.

A/N: Part 2 tomorrow :)

Please let me know if you liked it, I will be very very thankful for feedback! Hardly anyone has commented this story so I don't even know if you're enjoying it &I wonder if I managed to get you anyhow intrigued... :)