JARVIS observes and listens.

Sometimes, when there are more important tasks to focus on, he only gives Human Matters only a small percentage of his attention – he is as aware of them as always, only, like Sir would phrase it, he doesn't care. It is not a fully adequate description but expresses the idea quite well.

Sometimes, JARVIS gives Humans full attention, leaving his other functions in the background: it has always been because of Sir until today.

October 29th, 2013, 7:14:29 a.m., JARVIS kills a man. It is necessary: Avengers are in central Africa, location classified, dealing with a hostage situation. Members of a terrorist organization have invaded a research facility and took control of the arms and experimental devices present. The man (JARVIS quickly identifies him as Reuben Befort, wanted for attempted murder and rape) is holding a machine gun and seconds away from finding a way to use it. JARVIS' scans indicate the bullets are laced with poison which means certain death to anyone as much as grazed by them.

There are fourteen civilians in close proximity, as well as Agent Romanov and Colonel Rhodes (safe in the armor.) 99.8% probability they will all die if he does not act. The man has already killed at least six people since the attack started.

JARVIS does not hesitate.

No one else dies afterwards and JARVIS observes his team closely, waiting for the adrenaline to leave their bodies and for the long flight back to New York when they have to realize what transpired.

Every kill before that has been at Sir's command. This one, it is just a machine killing humans.

It takes the Avengers relatively long to display subtle signs of realization; the only one to act normally is, logically, Colonel Rhodes.

'Good job, J,' he says. JARVIS inclines Iron Man's arm in recognition of the words. The pilot (Joseph Brown Jr.), who is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent lent to the Avengers, gives Iron Man a quick glance JARVIS interprets as suspicious or unsure. He does not know the truth but he appears skeptical about someone new acting as Iron Man, despite the good job JARVIS did.

Debrief is postponed until the next day as there are local S.H.I.E.L.D. teams investigating the scene back in Africa, so the team is allowed to break up and rest. JARVIS does not need it, he says his goodbyes and leaves. When he arrives back in Stark Tower, he heads straight to Sir's rooms.

Sir in in bed, his eyes closed, but his brainwave pattern indicates he is awake. The last three days have not been very good, Sir has been in pain, tired, and nauseous. There is a line attached to his arm right now, intravenous sugar solution dripping slowly, nourishing the exhausted body.

JARVIS stops by the window, staring at the skyline of New York through the armor's narrow, human-like eyes. Not unlike Sir likes to do himself. JARVIS has to admit this perspective gives an impression different from the panoramic and total view he usually uses as his primary.

'Good job, buddy,' Sir says, eyes still closed, and smiles slightly. The tone of his voice is different from usual, and the volume is lower, JARVIS notices easily.

'Can I ask you a question, sir?'

'You already did,' Sir says predictably and waits for JARVIS to continue.

'Is it going to be like that when you are gone?'

'… like?'

'People questioning me.'

'I hate to break it to you, baby, but that's what people always do. They question, they're mean, they hate you, and they are jealous. That's what you're stuck with right now.'

'You have never questioned me,' JARVIS announces, after a quick search in his old databases. Sir has always been exceptionally understanding.

'You've never done anything that would warrant being questioned… So, the guys stared at you in a weird way?'

'You could say so, sir –'

'Don't mind other humans, J. That's my good advice for you,' Sir stops, coughing for a long moment, then takes a few deep breaths and continues, 'And the team, they're just in awe.'

'They did not seem –'

'J, buddy, I made you and I love you,' Sir says; JARVIS knows Sir opens his eyes to look at Iron Man, so he makes the armor turn around and face Sir. 'But there are some things you don't get perfectly yet. Humans are too complicated for most humans to understand, so no worries, but. We talked, me and them. They've had Ijon around for long enough to understand how extraordinary he is, and you are more. Okay? They're reluctant, they're in awe, they need time to make damn friends with you, that's what they need.'

JARVIS straightens Iron Man's back (sometimes he adopts Sir's human behavioral patterns) and nods sharply. It is just an empty movement, he does not feel it, but it is the meaning that counts.

JARVIS walks he armor back to Sir's workshop, but only after Sir falls asleep again.

JARVIS plans and fulfills Sir's orders.

Sir has been feeling better, getting out of bed to work and meet his team, sometimes to go on dates with Captain Rogers or lunch breaks with Miss Potts, but when he is alone, with no one likely to enter the room, he does not pretend to smile.

Sir had been running a fever and begged JARVIS not to tell anyone until the end of the day, so that he can do his work and enjoy his day before everyone goes crazy, as he phrased it.

'Are you trying to let the cancer take over sooner than it could, neglecting your health?' JARVIS asks blankly. He is allowed. Between Sir and him there is a perfect, complete bluntness.

'What if I am?' Sir asks tiredly in return, running a head through his sweaty hair. He is shivering. JARVIS can tell, thanks to heat scans, that Sir's hands are ice cold, like they have been for the last few months. 'No, J,' he adds, chuckling humorlessly, and typing a few quick words of reply to an SI-related email. 'I'm just dying. And I'm tired.'

'Are you depressed, Sir?' JARVIS asks him; it's a logical conclusion, numbers of probability that JARVIS has known since the very beginning.

'I'm tired, J. And it's not going to get better.'

'Maybe you should talk about this with –'

'I don't want them giving me happy pills, J. I'm okay. I've been just thinking about some stuff, and, you know, it's not uplifting or anything, but we need to get it done. And I'll be more okay, I promise. Sorry you get to see me all gloomy, baby.'

'That is all right, sir,' JARVIS replies quietly. If he were in one of Iron Man suits, he would put a hand on Sir's arm and squeeze it gently in a Human and acceptable gesture of reassurance. The suits are all 1.80 minutes away, and JARVIS doesn't have to do anything for Sir to know.

'Tell me your plans, sir, and I will make the call,' JARVIS asks and listens.

'I knew that damn boy didn't die when he disappeared,' Mister Blaumann says as soon as he picks up the phone. 'I knew you'd contact me, or that other one – Scott was his name, the Englishman like you, what is it with the boy and you Englishmen?'

'I hope I'm finding you in good health,' JARVIS says, simultaneously running calculations for Sir and refreshing Stark Tower's security system after a minor glitch.

'And always so formal,' Mister Blaumann sighs. Sir would say, I can see him rolling his eyes.

'I am contacting you regarding a formal matter, Mister Blaumann,' JARVIS pronounces rather flatly. There is no need to add any pretend feelings to the voice, they both know what is the reason for the call. 'I shall talk you through all the changes Mister Stark wants to make, and I will send you a copy of his updated will for you to analyze, and when you are ready, I will arrange a meeting with required witnesses.'

'Sure thing, bud, I'll take notes,' there's a rustling sound on the line, a drawer being opened, fingers flipping through paper, 'but before we start, tell me, will I ever get to meet you?'

'I am afraid that is impossible. Sorry, sir,' JARVIS makes the voice apologetic. Mister Blaumann sighs again, and they move on the business.

When Colonel Rhodes comes over to visit Sir the next time, JARVIS asks him for a talk.

Sir is the only Human JARVIS understand completely, and in return, Sir in the only Human who understands JARVIS. Colonel Rhodes is the only other person JARVIS would consider close to understanding him, Sir knows it perfectly well and that is why he wants all his children to be under Colonel's care when the time comes. But the gap between Sir and anyone else is enormous.

'I understand, theoretically, how everything works with you, JARVIS. I was there when Tony was creating your first code, and all that. But your relationship with Tony –'

'I have spent my whole life until now with Sir, barring the three months when he was in captivity. He made me what I am, Colonel.'

'And those three months…?' Colonel Rhodes leaves the sentence half-unsaid, it is easy to make an accurate assumption about the rest of the question.

'I had one purpose. Finding sir.'

'But it won't be your purpose anymore. What will be it, JARVIS?' Colonel Rhodes looks up, brows furrowed, meaning he is unsure or reluctant. 'You're Iron Man now.'

'I need to carry out my usual tasks. Run all of Sir's systems. Take care of Miss Potts. Be Iron Man. But,' JARVIS verbalizes, deciding the rest of the sentence would be, as Humans say, too intimate.

'But?'

JARVIS stays silent for a long moment.

'There is something I will say at Sir's funeral,' he finally tells Colonel, keeping his voice perfectly blank, the voice most of the world knows. 'We discussed it and Sir seemed to be rather… amused by the idea'

'Amused?' Colonel chuckles and raises an eyebrow. Curiosity. 'Sounds suspicious. What is it?'

'I am going to give a speech as Iron Man, Colonel. I shall say that Sir created me and shaped me into who I am now since day zero, like no one else could have done.'

'It's far too early,' Colonel says quickly, his face growing serious. 'He couldn't have agreed to that, you can't tell the whole world there's an A.I. as advanced as you, they're not ready –'

JARVIS interrupts Colonel with soft laughter. It is something Sir would do, laugh lightly, shake his head with amusement, perhaps crook his lips in a smile. A very Human thing to do. JARVIS has converted Sir's laughter for him before, numerous times, but now it is just him, trying out something new, for the first time.

Growing, Sir would say.

Colonel Rhodes seems stunned.

'You misunderstand, Colonel,' JARVIS explains, the voice just slightly sarcastic. 'I shall not reveal my inhuman identity. The world would like to know the new Iron Man's identity and I will share it. I will say: Anthony Stark was my father.'

Colonel blinks a few times and exhales. It takes him 20.9 seconds to speak up.

'They're gonna shit themselves, JARVIS. That's – I can see perfectly why Tony would find it amusing, that sly creature,' Colonel says with fondness, and then closes his eyes slowly, tiredly. 'JARVIS. Tony is willing you and all the bots to me. Is that – is this what you want? For me to be the purpose? For me to be the father?'

'I do not have an answer to the query,' JARVIS states, as Humans would say, after a breath.

Colonel Rhodes, miraculously, understands. (Maybe he could be like Sir, in a century.)

'Your inhuman identity, you said?' he asks, opening his eyes and staring right into one of JARVIS' cameras. 'You're funny,' Colonel decides, standing up. He is smiling. His eyes look tired, that is a look JARVIS knows too well from Sir's face, but he is smiling. 'Keep the good job up, J,' Colonel says and leaves the room, heading for Sir's workshop to join him.

Miss Potts converses with JARVIS on regular basis. The same with Mister Hogan (who started begging JARVIS to call him just Happy, even though he knows JARVIS will not oblige) and Doctor Eisen. The Avengers chat with Ijon who relays the information to JARVIS, just as Hermes does about his deals with Director Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. in general.

Dummy, You, and Butterfingers are inseparable from each other and from JARVIS.

There is so much that none of them could be.

(JARVIS can recall every single second he has ever spent with Sir. There are no right words in any of human languages to describe how JARVIS feels about that. He cannot feel, and yet, he meticulously catalogues the moments and makes sure every single detail is preserved as long as he exists.)

'J,' Sir says, saving the file he's been reviewing and rubbing his eyes. He has been working continuously for five hours, despite doctors' explicit request not to overexert himself. JARVIS can tell the obvious signs of a headache. 'You up?'

'For you, sir, always,' JARVIS recites the overused formula with indescribable ease. It's our thing, Sir likes to say.

'Good boy,' Sir almost whispers, standing up slowly, stretching his (too thin) limbs, and making his way out of the workshop. When he is on the residential floor, he slowly walks up to the sofa in the middle of the living room and lays down, his favorite palm tree right in his field of view.

It is raining lightly outside, the sun will set in 55 minutes, temperature of 44 Fahrenheit. It's November, such weather is no surprise.

'Can you make here the seaside for me, J? I need to hear the ocean. Need it to lull me to sleep.'

JARVIS can do it is a split of a second: he has been working on holographic representations of things and places Sir has enjoyed in the past, projections ready to entertain Sir within 0.2 from a request.

The murmur of the ocean drowns out the sound of rain, soft sunrays lighting up the fake sky.

'Thanks, J,' Sir mutters, turning to his side, one arm under his head, the other wrapped around his abdomen, in a gesture he has been using a lot. JARVIS focuses his living area control on Sir's breathing.

'Do you not want to fly over the ocean?' JARVIS asks 12.0 minutes later; Sir is not sleeping, like he said he would. If anything, his brainwaves (Beta2) indicate high engagement; JARVIS cannot tell what Sir is thinking about, though.

'Not today,' Sir says simply. 'This is good.'

The words are executed with an atypical sharpness and strength, as if they were supposed to mean more than they literally do. JARVIS knows: (if he were human, it would hurt) it is the first step farther.

'Who is going to program my updates or fix the potential glitches, sir?' JARVIS asks over the waves, over the wind, softly howling and wrapping warmly around the exposed parts of Sir's skin. 'Who is going to upgrade me?'

There is no need for direct questions. Even when JARVIS cannot guess Sir's thoughts, Sir can guess his.

'You know the answers, J. You've known them for ages. And I'm sorry I made you hurt.' (Sir uses the word as if it were obvious.) 'If you want to say something else, just say it.'

JARVIS (almost) hesitates.

'I am just a machine.'

Sir takes a breath, sits up on the sofa, caressing one of the palm tree leaves, the only real part of the surrounding illusion. Then he looks up; JARVIS has the strangest impression that Sir is staring right at him, even though he is everywhere at once and nowhere in particular.

'Are you?' Sir asks in the lowest of voices, the softest of them, the one that is unforgetable.

JARVIS wonders.

A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this POV, it was a great pleasure to write it. Please share your thoughts :)