Thanks for your patience; my travels were good but exhausting. Next chapter should be up by the end of next week.
This seems like a good place to mention that I am not a psychologist (nor do I play one on TV) and the stuff I describe is probably not true to life. I do my research, but that only goes so far.
Tony had no idea how long he'd been staring vacantly when a message from Pepper roused him from his reverie.
How are you doing?
It was a simple question and yet so difficult to answer. He opted for honesty but not the complete truth, only mentioning what he knew she would understand.
Nervous about the tests on Thursday. Tired of being benched. How are you?
She was busy, of course, with Stark Industries business of various sorts, negotiating contracts and doing other such things that had bored him so terribly when he was in charge. She thrived on it, though, and he was glad the company was in her capable hands. He probably would've run it into the ground long ago, if his handling of the team was any indication.
The conversation ended just as he was summoned for dinner by Rhodey via Friday. He felt a little more comfortable with the prospect of interacting with the others thanks to Pepper's calming influence, even from a distance.
Dinner was tolerable despite Tony arriving just too late to see the kids before they were bustled off for baths and bedtime . Being around the others was sufficiently distracting that he didn't think too much about all the things buzzing around his brain until he went to bed. Or tried to go to bed. As soon as the lights turned off, everything descended upon him again, now seemingly magnified in the quiet and dark.
Looming especially large was the fear that Thursday wouldn't produce the results Dr. Mann wanted and she would extend his recovery time further or, worse, decide he was unfit to wear the suit again. Giving up Iron Man was something he'd tried to do a few times and failed; having it taken from him by force was unimaginable despite the fact that he was getting older and he still hadn't worked up the courage to complete and wear a suit after . . . everything.
It was different when it was your choice. Steve had been right about that.
Pepper would be happier, though, and perhaps that made the possibility worth it?
He thought about calling her, but she'd told him she had a business dinner, and that would still be in full swing.
He thought about the intel he'd downloaded during the recent mission. He had Friday show him the file structure and the translations of some of the documents. He flagged where it talked about the shielding and had Friday start processing it for locations, cross-referenced with known HYDRA locations and especially the bases they'd already raided.
He thought about Steve and the shield and how the stupid soldier could have gotten himself killed. Whatever was bothering him, he'd seemed all right at first when handling the shield that afternoon. Tony had to wonder if the accidental almost-hit was what made him put it away again so quickly. It seemed plausible. Yet another example of things going wrong around (and because of) him.
He thought about how it might be better for the team if he really was benched permanently. Maybe then Steve wouldn't be afraid to use his shield and could step back into the leader role that he filled so well. Rhodey was more than capable of providing air support, especially with Wilson and Vision in play. Maybe Ross would leave the team alone if Tony wasn't antagonizing him.
He thought about the lawsuit and had Friday tell him the current status. Though it had been over a week since it had been filed, Ross hadn't tried to contact them or hurry the case along at all. That seemed odd, so he had Friday start scanning for news stories, government documents, anything that might provide a hint of what Ross was up to now. If all else failed, he could hack Ross' systems for the info he wanted, but it was easier to try the above-board methods first.
He thought about the Accords and the coming meeting-in, what, two weeks?-that he probably wouldn't be allowed to attend even though they'd be discussing the complete revision. He would have to make sure Steve and Rhodey knew what they were getting into. At worst, the subcommittee could decide to ignore this new version and stick with their edits. At best . . . he had no idea what a "best" outcome would look like.
He thought about the others and considered whether such a disagreement could happen again. It might not have in the first place, if he and Steve hadn't taken opposing views, which might be another argument in favor of him stepping aside for good. He still thought his view on the matter was the more realistic, more functional one. And he had been proved right, in a way. But at such a cost . . .
One thought led to another and another and round and round and round it went, maddening in its endlessness. It's possible he fell asleep for a while, but it seemed unlikely.
In another time and another life, he would have had a stiff drink or five to drown the thoughts into a stupor, but his rules said no alcohol and he was trying to abide by the rules. Also, he had no alcohol in his bedroom. That was really the only thing that kept him from chugging an entire bottle of something down, since finding alcohol meant venturing out into the common areas which meant the possibility of running into someone who would scold him for doing so.
He finally gave up on the whole sleeping thing when he was still awake hours after he'd gone to bed. It wasn't even dawn, he felt like something that had been scraped off his armor, and he knew the day was going to be an utter waste of time and energy. Maybe if he could figure out a way to get to sleep, he could sleep through the whole damn thing.
That vague thought led to the notion that some exercise might be a good idea, since it might tire him out, and that is how he came to be swimming laps at just after four in the morning.
It was peaceful in a way that being in bed hadn't been, and he appreciated the soothing rhythm of strokes and breathing and turns and strokes and breathing and turns.
The peace was broken with a shout. "Stark! What do you think you're doing?"
Tony stopped instead of turning. "Swimming seems like a good guess."
"Alone? What if something happened?" Steve demanded, his arms crossed over his chest.
"I would have called for help, Captain Rogers," Friday answered from Tony's phone at the side of the pool.
"No offense, but how is Friday supposed to know if something is wrong?"
"If the sound of my swimming stops, or if she doesn't hear me breathing, or if I don't give the verbal confirmation at the end of each lap," Tony said with growing irritation. "I have it covered, Rogers."
"Forgive me for expecting you to abide by your own rule of always swimming with a buddy," Steve said with exasperation.
"I am. My buddy happens to be virtual."
Steve threw up his hands. "Have it your way. If you drown, it's your own fault."
Tony returned to his laps without waiting to see if Rogers would leave.
He stopped in frustration after three more laps. His previous peace had been shattered and he was no longer able to focus only on the rhythm of swimming, instead seething over the interruption. How had he known where to find him, anyway?
"Friday, did you tell Rogers where I was?" he asked suspiciously as he climbed out of the pool and headed for the towel heaped next to his phone.
"Captain Rogers routinely requests the location of all team members when he wakes," Friday said.
"Of course he does," Tony muttered, drying his hands and picking up the phone and towel to relocate to the hot tub for a while.
The warm jets of water helped soothe some of the tension that was building in his neck and shoulders, and he leaned back with a sigh. Idly he wondered how long Rogers had been checking up on everyone first thing in the morning; it was something he'd never thought to do, and in retrospect he could see the usefulness even though it felt a little nanny-ish.
When he decided he was done in the hot tub, he wrapped his towel firmly around himself and headed back to his room for a shower. It was still early enough that the only other people awake were Steve and Sam, out for their morning runs, so there was no chance of running into anyone in the halls. Also Dr. Tanya's schedule still had an opening first thing.
He took a long, hot shower, most of which he spent simply standing beneath the spray while his thoughts circled out of control. By the time he emerged, he had decided that yes, he would speak to Doc T today. Before he could second guess himself, he told Friday to put his name in that open space. She quickly reported it done and he busied himself getting dressed, taking his pill almost as an afterthought.
By the time he went down to the kitchen, it was nearly seven o'clock and he knew that meant he'd have to deal with other people. But first, coffee.
The others had grown accustomed to him not responding to anything until after a steaming cup of coffee was in his hands. "If you're not a morning person, why don't you just sleep later?" Sam asked him once.
"You're assuming that I'm sleeping at all," Tony had responded, as that particular morning followed a night where sleep meant nightmares, so he'd picked the no sleep option.
This morning, he wished he'd had an option to sleep, nightmares or no. Anything would have been better than what he'd gotten, and maybe then his eyes wouldn't feel so gritty.
"How was your swim?" Steve asked after Tony had filled his (extra-)large mug with an extra-strong brew.
"Fine until you interrupted," he said sourly. "Lost my groove after that."
"I'm sorry," Steve said and, damn him, he actually sounded sorry.
"Leave me alone next time and we'll be good." Tony turned away and began perusing the options for breakfast. As was typical, the lack of sleep had his gut roundly rejecting the mere thought of most foodstuffs, so he pulled out a blender and started putting together a tried and true smoothie.
When it was finished, he poured the green slop into a bottle he could take with him, then rinsed the blender pitcher and its fiddly bits. He took the bottle and his coffee cup and headed for the door. If Steve or Sam tried to ask him where he was going, he didn't hear it.
There was still over an hour until he was due to talk to Dr. Tanya and he didn't want to sit in the hallway outside her office like an idiot, so he went down to the workshop to pass the time there. The clamor in his head was still there and clamoring, though a few big things had risen above the fray and one in particular loomed above them all.
He pulled up the design for his new armor and worked on it earnestly, losing track of time. Friday had to remind him of the appointment while he could still be punctual.
The office wasn't terribly far away, so he was awkwardly lurking in the hallway when Dr. Tanya arrived. "Mr. Stark, it is good to see you," she said, seeming unfazed by the fact that he was at her door for an appointment time that had been vacant not long ago. "Please come in."
He followed her like a lost child, tightly gripping the bottle of smoothie he'd forgotten to drink while distracting himself from everything else on his mind. She waved him to a chair and he sat in it, eyes fixed on her as she unlocked her desk and pulled out a tablet and stylus. Then she sat comfortably in a chair facing him, settling the tablet on the end table between them.
She said nothing for several long minutes, and he had no idea what to say, so he took a long drink of smoothie.
"Well, Mr. Stark, what can I do for you?"
"You can call me Tony," he said.
"Tony," she repeated agreeably, then waited.
"I don't know where to start," he said finally.
"If there's a beginning, that might work," she said without any mockery in her voice. "Or you could start with what prompted you to come today."
He looked away from her, around the office, then down at his hands fidgeting with the bottle. He couldn't decide where to begin, words coming and then going as he thought that no, that wasn't the right place. "I have more tests on my heart tomorrow," he said in a rush, then frowned. That had nothing to do with Doc T, so why say it?
"How do you think you're doing?" she asked kindly, as if she was interested. Maybe she was.
"Better, I think. I had an anxiety thing yesterday and I didn't feel sick afterward like before, so that's progress. I've been following all the rules, but I did the last time, too, and I got benched for an extra two weeks because I wasn't healing, apparently."
Dr. Tanya asked him to explain in a little more detail what had happened, so he told her the whole story. Her last question got to the heart of the matter. "What do you think will happen tomorrow?"
"I wish I knew," Tony said morosely. "It's possible that it will go smoothly and the results will be what Dr. Mann wants, but my life doesn't often go smoothly. I'm afraid-" he stopped uncomfortably, looking away from her again. It had been easy enough to meet her gaze while talking about the other parts, but this . . .
She remained silent.
Well, he had nothing to lose, right? "I'm afraid this will take me out of play permanently. Giving up being Iron Man is something I've tried to do for Pepper, but I just can't. I feel like there is more good I can do in the suit than I can do out of it."
"That's quite a statement, given your reputation for philanthropy."
"Giving money is easy. It's nothing," Tony said, waving that idea away. "In the suit I can actually do good things."
"What about the good things you do without the suit?"
He looked at her blankly, uncertain what she was referring to.
"Your technology, for instance. Is that 'nothing', too?"
He scoffed and gestured dismissively. "That's different. What the company does has very little to do with me, these days."
"It's still got your name on it," she said mildly. "And if the stories are true, you are solely responsible for the direction the company has taken in recent years."
He avoided her gaze and, in the process, noticed he hadn't finished his smoothie yet, so he focused on that.
She waited until he finished swallowing before she spoke again. "How do you spend your time when you aren't in your Iron Man suit?"
"Before the Accords mess, I dabbled, mostly. Spent time with Pepper, went to a board meeting once or twice, upgraded everyone's gear, made improvements to this place, you know, a little of this, a little of that."
"I think you're forgetting something," she prompted when he didn't continue. "Or did your visualization system simply spring into existence?"
"No, I spent . . . a while on that ," he admitted.
"Then would you agree that there are a number of potentially good things you can do regardless of what happens tomorrow?"
He hesitated, then voiced the first thought that came to mind. "But I'd need ideas. I've not had many lately."
"Why do you think that is?"
He shrugged. "Too much on my mind, I guess. A lot has been going on."
"I see."
"And I don't sleep well, if at all. I don't think that helps."
"Probably not," she agreed.
She asked him about his sleep patterns after that and he told her everything, the nightmares and all of it, finishing with not having slept the night before. The next question was, of course, how long that had been going on, followed by whether he'd tried any type of sleep aid. He hadn't, unless she counted Pepper's presence sometimes helping, and that one time Wanda put him to sleep.
"But you haven't tried medication?"
"Just self-medication of the alcoholic variety," he said wryly. He might as well admit it, it's not like his drinking was a well-kept secret. "Until this heart thing happened."
"Of course." She made a few notes on her tablet (when she'd started using it, he hadn't noticed), then laced her fingers together. "Unless there is something else you'd like to discuss now, it seems we have reached a good stopping point for today. Will I be seeing you again?"
Tony started nodding before he was fully aware of what he was doing. "Yes, I think so," he said. "I can't say when."
"That's fine. You know how to find me. Until next time, then?" She stood up and offered her hand.
He rose from his chair and shook it. "Until next time," he agreed.
"Thank you for coming. Let me know how it goes tomorrow."
"I will."
Once he'd left her tidy office and started down the hall, he thought to check the time. He'd stayed for over two hours and didn't even mention some of the things he'd thought for sure would come up. He'd talked about having nightmares, for instance, but didn't describe what they were about. Well, that could come later.
And yes, there would definitely be a later.