Tony was able to work on the newest version of his armor for a while before anyone (read: Pepper) came to chase him off to bed, never mind how long he'd slept the previous night. Since it was Pepper and she wouldn't be staying much longer, he went with her.

He expected to be awake for a while, which wasn't a problem since he would happily watch Pepper sleep anytime, but he dropped off fairly quickly. So, of course, he woke around three a.m. "Friday, log that as a nightmare," he murmured, hoping not to wake Pepper. He focused on breathing deeply and evenly, his ribcage rising and falling beneath her hand, resting where the arc reactor used to be. Sometimes he felt a phantom ache as if it was still there.

If it had been, he'd be dead.

Dammit, no, not a good thing to think about. He felt his heart speed up and his breathing grow more constricted and he swore a blue streak in his mind.

"Tony? Are you all right?" Pepper was awake now, and leaning over him with concern.

"I-I need a distraction," he said brokenly.

She leaned down and kissed him hard, then shifted to straddle him, both of her hands on his torso, kneading and gripping. He clutched her, pulling her closer and kissing her roughly in return. Soon his thoughts were only on her and her atop him and his body's failure to react in its normal fashion.

As soon as his grip on her faltered, she pulled back. "Better?"

"Better. Thank you."

She slipped off him, one hand remaining on his chest, rubbing gently. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"No," he replied wearily. "Unless you can turn back time."

"Sadly, I can't." She kissed his forehead. "Do you think you can sleep?"

"I can try," he said reluctantly.

"I'll be right here."

When he woke again it was morning and Pepper was coming back to bed from the direction of the bathroom. "Good morning. You should take your pill, but otherwise you can't have anything to eat or drink until after your tests at the hospital. Friday reminded me when I got up."

Tony groaned. The one morning he was hungry for breakfast, he wasn't allowed. "What time do I need to be there?"

"Nine o'clock," Friday said promptly.

"I'll go with you," Pepper informed him. "Did you want anyone else to come?"

"I don't need an entourage," he grumbled as he flung the covers back and got out of bed to take his medication.

"Someone else will probably want to come to guard you. You have very protective teammates, you know."

Tony knew that was true for a few of them, but he doubted it about the rest.

.

Pepper was right about there being another person in their party. Both Rhodey and Natasha had other obligations that morning, so Sam volunteered to be the driver and guard. Tony hesitated, debating whether that was technically abiding by the terms of the rehabilitation agreement, then decided his lawyers could handle it if there were any objections.

"Tony, did you see the message from Dr. Mann?" Pepper asked as the three of them rode the elevator down to the car.

"No." Tony hadn't been checked any messages for days; if the others wanted to handle things, they could put up with the flood of information that was his life. It had been somewhat freeing, to not be constantly inundated with things vying for his attention. On the other hand, he was certain there were things he should know about that had been coming in, which made him anxious.

"That would be why she sent it to me and Rhodey and even Sam," Pepper said. "She'll meet us at the hospital and if all goes well, you'll be home for dinner."

That brought him up short. "Dinner? How long does this take?"

She skimmed the message. "An hour or so? But then they have to make sure you aren't going to bleed out when you stand up." The elevator slowed and stopped and she led the way into the garage.

"Trust me, man, that's not something you want to mess around with," Sam said.

"And if all doesn't go well? I'll be stuck there for a week?" Tony asked sourly.

"You'd have to stay at least overnight," Pepper said gently.

Tony crossed his arms and stopped short of the car. "I don't think so."

"They do dozens of these without a hitch. You'll be fine," Sam said, trying-and failing-to be reassuring.

Pepper stood in front of him and didn't say anything until he met her eyes. "You had a version of this procedure done last week and it went smoothly. There's no reason to expect anything different this time."

"Because it's me. Haven't you noticed yet that nothing goes smoothly around me?"

Eventually he relented and climbed into the backseat next to Pepper. He was silent for the duration of the trip, aimlessly poking at his phone.

As they pulled in to the hospital parking lot, Tony put on sunglasses and a ballcap and pulled his hood up, hoping to evade recognition. The whole situation was humiliating enough without having his picture all over the internet again.

They were escorted to a small room with a bed and Tony was directed to change into a hospital gown. Sam stood near the doorway, facing the hallway, while Tony undressed and Pepper folded his clothes for lack of anything else to do. He had just finished when Dr. Mann arrived with a male orderly in tow.

"Tony, dear, we're going to take your monitor off now, and they're going to pull the data off before we give you back the equipment. Did you keep a log for me?"

The orderly silently began removing the electrodes from Tony's chest.

"Friday put it in the usual place," Tony said, wincing as one of the electrodes tried to take some of his skin with it.

"Splendid." Once the orderly left, Dr. Mann explained they would be doing two tests, neither of which should give him any trouble, though minor side effects were always a possibility with the contrast dye. "Still, you were right as rain last week. I will be present during the tests, and we should be able to talk about next steps before you leave."

He was taken to another room not long after, Sam following close behind while Pepper stayed in the room he'd been assigned. The first test involved another set of electrodes; it was a good thing his chest wasn't hairy, though the adhesive was doing a number on his skin.

The second test involved inserting things in places that they really shouldn't go and he definitely didn't remember having this done before, though it explained the bruise near his groin. The insertion didn't hurt, thanks to something they rubbed on his skin ahead of time, but after a while they injected some sort of dye that made him feel a little strange.

When the various doctors-including Dr. Mann-seemed satisfied with whatever images they collected, the test itself was over. Then someone had to apply firm pressure to the spot they'd inserted things, and it seemed like that part lasted as long as the test had. It was decidedly uncomfortable and he was starting to get a headache but he didn't complain.

Dr. Mann patted his knee. "You'll be back in your room in a few minutes, and then you'll need to spend a few hours lying down so that clot sets. I'll check on you after I take a look at all of your results, but you're in good hands here."

Tony nodded, then closed his eyes when the motion made him slightly dizzy. He shivered as his bed started to move again, passing Sam on the way out the door.

Pepper was talking on the phone when Tony's entourage returned to the room. The nurses quickly put his bed back in its place. "Would you like some water, Mr. Stark?" one of them asked.

"No thanks," he said quickly.

Pepper ended her conversation and moved her chair to his bedside when the nurses left. Sam resumed his position near the door. "How did it go?" she asked, checking the time. He had been gone nearly two hours.

"I still have a heart," he joked half-heartedly.

"And here all these people think you're heartless," she said, smiling. "Should we write a press release?"

"It'll be best kept a secret for now."

"How are you feeling?" She could tell something was bothering him, but she couldn't tell what.

"I . . . terrible," he said after hesitating. "I feel like I flew into a wall. Or a Hulk."

She took his hand. "Should we call a nurse?"

Tony swallowed. "No, it will pass."

Pepper should have just hit the call button rather than giving him the choice, but since he'd said no, she waited to see if he was right.

Tony was unusually quiet and still as the minutes ticked by. He shivered sometimes even though his hand was quite warm.

After about fifteen minutes, Pepper said, "Tony? How are you doing?"

"I felt better than this when I was dying," he said flatly. "What the hell is going on?"

Pepper pressed the call button. "I don't know."

The nurse that came in was one they hadn't seen before. She checked his IV, asked a few brisk questions about how he was feeling, and didn't seem overly concerned. "It's probably a mild reaction to the contrast," she said, sounding bored. "I can ask the radiologist, but that's the most likely culprit since you felt fine coming in here."

"If this is mild, I don't want to know what severe would be," Tony grumbled.

"Your heart stopping," she replied nonchalantly. "It's never happened here."

"There's always a first time," Tony muttered as she left the room.

"Should I flag down a different nurse?" Sam asked.

"Don't bother," Tony said. "We can ask Dr. Mann when she comes back."

Dr. Mann didn't make an appearance for over two hours. In the meantime, Tony rolled onto his side and curled into a miserable huddle on the bed. A nurse came to check on him twice in that time, both times offering him some water, which he declined. The second time she asked if he wanted her to ask a doctor about giving him something for the nausea or the headache or both, but he declined that, too.

"Tony, my dear, how are you doing?" Dr. Mann asked as she bustled into the room.

"I've been better," he said miserably.

Pepper explained what had been going on.

Dr. Mann frowned and checked her tablet for Tony's record. "Ah," she said finally. "They used different contrast this time. I will put it in your file not to use that one again. I can order ibuprofen for the aching; do you want something for the stomach upset?"

"Will it help?"

"It's supposed to, or we wouldn't administer it," she said mildly.

"All right," he said faintly.

"I will be right back and then we will talk."

Tony wasn't sure how long she was gone, only that when she returned she came with a nurse who injected things into his IV line, which took an edge off his misery in short order. But he still wasn't feeling prepared for what Dr. Mann was going to tell him, if her expression was anything to go by.

She pulled up another chair beside Pepper. Sam inched closer to the bed so he could also hear.

"My dear, I don't know what to tell you except that I had hoped for more progress than I'm seeing. I will increase the dose of your medication and we'll extend your rest period to six weeks instead of just a month, to make sure you have enough time to heal."

She paused to let him absorb this, then she continued.

"We will repeat the tests in two more weeks to see if the increased medicine helps, but I am concerned about these episodes that you have had. You did not have one while on the monitor but it looks like you came close once or twice. Judging by your log, the reasons appear to be psychological."

A much longer pause followed that pronouncement.

"I have half a mind to require you to speak to a therapist regularly as a condition of your reinstatement," she finished bluntly.

"Anything else you need to get off your chest?" Tony asked sarcastically.

"I am in absolute earnest about this, Anthony," she said seriously. "You are doing no one any good, least of all yourself, trying to function like this. In fact, if you do not do something to improve how you deal with everything that has happened to you, I will have to consider you suicidal and take appropriate measures."

"That seems overly harsh," Tony protested.

"Not when the alternative is allowing you to drive yourself into an early grave." She stood and put the chair back against the wall. "I will put in your new prescription. You will be allowed to leave in two more hours if your wound is satisfactory and if your reaction does not grow worse. If you have any questions after that, you know how to find me."

Pepper took Tony's hand again and gripped it tightly but didn't say anything. That expression on Tony's face usually meant he was contemplating something, and if he was considering what Dr. Mann said, she didn't want to interrupt.

.

Tony was caught off-guard by Dr. Mann's conclusions. Being benched for an additional two weeks was troubling, but minor in comparison to the rest. He wasn't sure Dr. Mann could force him into psychiatric care for being "suicidal" since she wasn't a shrink, but he also didn't really want to test her. She'd proven to be as formidably stubborn as him. It's part of why he liked her.

Plus, she would definitely keep him benched if she thought it appropriate. While he could technically ignore her directives-there were perks to being the current boss-there were too many people who would give him flak if he did. Like Pepper. And Rhodey. And Natasha. And Laura. And Vision. And Sam. And Steve. Hell, probably even Clint and Wanda and . . .

And that was everyone. When did they start to care? And why?

But did they really care? He supposed he'd find out, now that he was going to be out of commission even longer than anticipated.

Trying to think was starting to hurt, so he stopped trying. He closed his eyes and let himself drift, losing all track of time.

Eventually Dr. Mann arrived with a nurse to determine if he was ready to leave. They checked where he'd been poked, then Dr. Mann had him slowly sit up. "How are you feeling, my dear?" she asked.

"I'll live," he said, his vision doubling for a brief moment. His nausea was back with a vengeance, but he didn't want to stay a moment longer.

She had him stand next. He was definitely woozy, but freedom was in sight so he insisted he was fine. Pepper exchanged a look with Dr. Mann and he knew he was busted, but neither of them said a word.

"All right, dear, get dressed and you can leave."

He had to sit down to put his pants on; there was no way he'd have remained upright if he'd tried to stand and balance on one leg at a time. He fumbled a bit with the buttons on his polo, then decided he might as well just leave them open. Otherwise he managed just fine under Pepper's watchful eye.

She had to help him regain his balance when he stood up again, but really, he was doing quite well, thank you very much. Then he saw Sam leaning against the doorframe, a wheelchair perched in front of him. "I don't-" Tony started.

"Don't even try to tell me you don't want to use the wheelchair," Sam said. "I am not carrying your skinny ass out to the car and there's no way in hell you'll make it there on your own two feet."

Tony paused, his expression vaguely annoyed. Now that Sam was being obnoxious about it, he didn't want to admit he was dizzy enough that he wasn't certain where the chair actually was. "Whatever. How's about you bring it over here so we can blow this popsicle stand?"

Sam wheeled it closer and Tony all but collapsed into it. "Really? No complaints?"

"It's the most expedient way to leave this house of horrors."

Sam dropped a clear plastic bag in his lap, which Tony studied as they left the hospital (it was better than looking around and risking recognition). It was the monitor he'd been wearing, plus a familiar white paper bag. His new pills. Ugh.

Pepper climbed into the backseat with him while Sam returned the wheelchair. He leaned heavily against her and closed his eyes.

"What's going on, Tony?" she asked gently.

"I feel like I have the flu," he said miserably.

"Are you going to need to throw up?"

"God, I hope not. I just had this car detailed." He thought a moment, then added, "Fortunately, I'm not usually the vomiting type."

"Of course not." She sounded amused and tactfully failed to mention all the times she had seen him do just that.

He kept his eyes closed for the entire trip back to the compound and didn't even think about how he was going to get from the car to his bedroom until the car was slowing down. "Um," he said eloquently.

"Everything's taken care of," Pepper assured him.

Sam pulled the car up next to where Rhodey was standing with his wheelchair. Tony took his time deciding to get out; moving required effort, and while getting out of the car could mean pleasant things like taking a long bath, the immediate benefit of not having to move outweighed everything else.

Then his car door was opening and Pepper was moving away from him and a hand was tugging on his arm. "C'mon. You'll be more comfortable inside," Rhodey said.

Tony sighed heavily and began to inch out of the car. He ached more than it should be possible to ache. He could have easily fallen asleep in the wheelchair during the trip to his room, but when they arrived and Pepper suggested changing out of his clothes, he insisted upon a bath first.

Pepper humored him.

He promptly fell asleep in the bath.