Tony wasn't quiet as he returned to the table so he could be sure he wasn't interrupting something he didn't want to hear. He set his large mug down with both hands, then sank back into his chair.

"I apologize for my last comment," Steve said without preamble and without looking at him.

Tony glanced at Dr. Tanya and bit back his reflexive retort, No you don't. "Thanks."

"Steve asked about your principles," Dr. Tanya prompted him.

He took a bracing sip of his coffee. "I'm only going to talk about this once, Rogers, so you'd better listen. You want to know about my principles? Well, there's one that has guided me for, hm, my entire adult life. At least, since I took over the company. Protecting people. God knows I fail far more often than I'd like, but I try. In everything I do, I try."

"Protecting people," Steve repeated dubiously. "You took over your father's weapons company and decided to protect people?"

He focused his gaze on his mug rather than react to Rogers's tone or facial expressions. "The weapons protected American soldiers. I was convinced they had to be as good as they could be, because lives were on the line. One life in particular was on the line, a guy I came to know at MIT who was stupid enough and brave enough to think a military career was better than any of the other things he could have been doing."

"Rhodes."

He nodded without looking up. "Then I went to Afghanistan, saw my weapons used against the soldiers I thought I was protecting. People think it was getting hit that caused the change of heart, and sure, that was part of it, but watching those kids get killed for me by the things I designed . . . "

He had to stop, take a sip of coffee, and take a deep breath. "And Yinsen, of course, and I saw how many of my weapons they had stockpiled and I knew that wasn't going to be all of it and I had to do something." He chuckled a little. "And Iron Man was born. It was only about revenge at first, taking care of the stray Stark tech, but once I realized what I was capable of, that I could put a stop to a lot of the violence in the world, I knew I had to do everything I could."

"And when you hacked S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files on the carrier? That was protecting people?"

"When a shadowy organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. decides to hide things from its own people, that generally doesn't bode well for anyone. You went snooping yourself, so I know you agree with me."

"Designing the repulsor engines used on the Insight carriers?"

"Having a giant flying aircraft carrier that can be felled by predictable problems isn't good for the people on the carrier or the people on the ground. I hoped they'd retrofit the existing helicarriers. I had no idea about the Insight project."

"Why not? You'd already hacked S.H.I.E.L.D. once."

"Insight wasn't on the radar then. After that I was a little busy picking up the pieces from my house being destroyed."

"And the Accords?"

Ah, there it was. He'd expected it sooner. He met Steve's gaze defiantly. "An attempt to make sure something like Ultron or Lagos never happens again. Or at least that the authorities in that country are aware of the danger and ready if something does happen. Why didn't you warn them, Rogers?"

"The Nigerian police had no hope of containing Rumlow. We barely managed."

"But they could have provided reinforcements or at least gotten the civilians out of the way. That was terrible judgment on your part."

"We could have handled it better," Steve conceded grudgingly. "What about the thing you're dealing with now?"

"How much did you overhear?"

"You're being investigated by the government."

"That's it?"

Steve nodded once.

Tony heaved a sigh and mournfully examined the bottom of his empty coffee cup. "I'm going to explain when the others come back, so I'd rather not have to hash it out now. I promise full disclosure then. Deal?"

Steve hesitated, frowning, but agreed.

"Thank you for your honesty, Tony," Dr. Tanya said. "Is there anything you would like to ask Steve?"

He had almost forgotten she was there. Yeah, he had questions, but he didn't think the answers were worth pursuing at that hour and with everything else going on.

Why have you always had a poor opinion of me?

Who put the stick up your ass?

What makes you think I routinely hide things from the team?

On second thought, that answer might be worth his time. "Yeah, I have a question," he said, and heard Rogers shift in his seat. He shifted his eyes from his coffee cup to watch him. "As the mission was starting, you accused me of a history of hiding vital information from the team. I'll repeat the question you didn't answer then: other than Ultron, when have I ever hidden information that negatively affected the team? I have given the team a home, my money, my tech, more than any of the rest of you combined, and you're sitting there saying I hide things from you?"

Rogers's jaw clenched, but he waited to answer until Tony finished speaking. "You mean besides whatever is going on with this investigation?"

"Yes, I mean besides this investigation. I already agreed to tell everyone about it as soon as they're back," Tony snapped even as Doc T spoke up.

"In good faith, gentlemen," she said reprovingly. "Steve, please answer the question."

Rogers clenched his fist, then moved it into his lap, studying the table rather than meet Tony's eyes. Seconds ticked by and he still did not speak.

Tony might have enjoyed watching him squirm, except that every moment wasted here was one less moment he could spend on something else.

"I don't know," Rogers admitted finally, sounding surprised. "The only other incident I can think of was the palladium, but that predates the team and Natasha only mentioned it because I wondered why she did an eval on you."

"Then why . . . ?" he wasn't quite sure what he was asking, and the words dangled in the space between them.

"I . . . I don't know," Rogers said slowly.

"I think we should continue this conversation at another time," Dr. Tanya said gently. "There are things we will need to discuss individually before any of this can be resolved. For now, I suggest you both get some sleep."

"Yeah," Tony said with a sigh, pulling out his phone. He'd been vindicated in a way but felt no satisfaction with the situation, and now it was time to see if he would be allowed some rest or if he needed to continue dealing with that mess.

Steve silently departed and Tony thought Doc T left, too, until she sat in the chair beside him. "Tony, when was the last time you slept?"

He had to tear his eyes from the latest email from Mel to think about that question. "In the afternoon. They sedated me at the hospital."

"Do they normally sedate you at the hospital?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "No," he said evasively.

She waited.

"I had an anxiety thing," he mumbled.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

"When did you last sleep in your own bed?" Doc T persisted.

When, when, when . . . "Monday morning," he said finally. It was only Wednesday. It felt like he'd lived at least a week in between.

"Hm," she said noncommittally. "Will we be chatting again soon?"

"I don't know. I'm still dealing with that thing."

"If you have time to talk, you'll come find me?"

"Yes."

"Good night, then," she said, and didn't comment when he didn't accompany her out of the room.

He appreciated that. He also appreciated not having an audience for his attempt to stand up from the chair, as the first attempt was less than successful. He winced as he started moving-again with the too much time in a chair thing-but took his mug to the kitchen, then decided to finish cleaning up the displays before retreating to his bedroom. He didn't want the kids playing with the stuff if he left it out.

Within a half hour he was collapsing on his bed, hoping for enough shut-eye to make it through what promised to be another long day. He slept fitfully and cursed all the coffee he'd drunk when he had to get up to use the toilet after less than three hours in bed.

He was washing his hands when Friday piped up. "Mel would like you to review her last message and contact her as soon as you are able, boss."

He sighed and leaned heavily on the edge of the counter, hanging his head. There was no way he'd be able to sleep again without knowing what that was about. He took a deep breath, splashed water on his face, and squared his shoulders.

Let the games begin.

.

It took a little searching to find where he'd left his phone; apparently, it had been in his pocket, but it liberated itself and slid to the floor while he was in bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress while he looked at the message. Mel had found a blogger that seemed to reference the investigation, but there were no details and it could be nothing just as easily as it could be something. As much as he wanted to simply send a reply, it would be faster to call.

"This is Mel."

"Is this the only thing out there right now?" he asked without preamble.

"The only thing we know about."

"Nobody has contacted you for comment?"

"No one has reached out to me or the SI team. My contact at SI promised to notify me if they hear anything before I do."

Hiring her couldn't have come at a better time. "Who's your contact?" Not that it mattered, he was just curious.

"Jeremy."

"Isn't he a little old for you?"

"I beg your pardon?" She sounded flabbergasted.

"No, no, I'm kidding. He's a good guy. Been around a while, knows his stuff." He settled back onto the bed with a groan. Being horizontal might be risky, but he'd take his chances. He'd never fallen asleep on the phone before. "Anyway, if anyone does come calling, we have no comment and I'll do the press conference at, um, four thirty. They can ask their questions then. Oh, and don't bother leaking my breakup with Pepper. We're close enough to the main event that we don't need the distraction."

"Got it. Press conference at four thirty? That can happen. I'll spread the word and plan to be there by noon to get everything set up and squared away. Is there a car I can take?"

"Use the chopper. Friday can fly it for you."

Mel paused before replying. "Okay. Well, that frees up my morning. I'll keep an eye on things and let you know if anything changes."

"Do I need to tell the tower security people that you're coming?"

"No, I contacted them yesterday. You're clear to have the press conference in the lobby."

"That's good. With my luck, it would be raining if we did it outside."

"It might be too old-school for you, but there are these things called umbrellas," she teased. "Unless you've come up with something better."

"It's called armor. Multi-functional, but quite expensive," he said dryly.

"Showing up to the press conference in your armor would definitely not send the right message," she countered. "Speaking of which, I'll send you an updated script before I leave. Just do yourself the favor of staying close to the words on the page."

He sighed. "We'll see how it goes. You said you'll notify the news agencies about the press conference?"

"Yes, as soon as we're done here," she said patiently. "That's only, you know, my job."

"You know who to contact?" he persisted. Press conferences were only as good as their coverage and, this being his first in a long while, he expected a lot of coverage. Counted on it, in fact.

"Yes, Mr. Stark. This isn't my first rodeo, and Jeremy is quite helpful."

". . . right. I'll just . . . let you do that, then."

"See you in New York," she said before hanging up.

He was tempted to let the phone fall into the bed and roll over to try to sleep a little more. What he did was send Bill a message about the press conference, requesting that he or a representative be present. Mel could try to keep him on topic, but she wouldn't know what might be legally questionable to say. He also noticed and read the message from his guy at the U.N., who was available for a conversation in an hour and a half.

As he let his phone drop into the sheets and curled up with a sigh, he heard something that sounded like a distant alarm. "Friday, what's that?" he mumbled.

"The compound evacuation drill has commenced, boss."

"Oh. Good. Let me know when Hill's report arrives."

He allowed his mind to drift after that, and he descended into a nightmarish dream in which Ross came to find him while the compound was empty. Ross cornered him in his bedroom, insistently banging on his door and demanding that he stop being a coward and show himself.

He startled awake when a different familiar voice called, "Stark, I know you're in there!" More banging followed. His heart was racing and he thought he was awake but it was so similar to his dream visions that he really had no idea.

He cowered behind the bed until Friday spoke. "Boss, Captain Rogers is about to break down the door."

"Tell him to stop, I'm coming." He scrambled out of his hiding place and hurried to the door, wrenching it open. "What?"

Steve eyed him uncertainly, his posture braced for an attack. "Are you all right? Why didn't you answer?"

"I was . . . dreaming," he said uneasily. "What do you want?"

"Why is the compound being evacuated?"

Tony ran a hand over his face and leaned heavily against the doorjamb. "It's a drill," he said wearily. "Friday would have told you if you'd asked."

Steve relaxed slightly. "I didn't think to ask," he admitted sheepishly. "Shouldn't we be evacuating?"

"I have every confidence in your ability to pack up and be gone in no time," he replied. "But if you want to participate, feel free."

"What about you?"

He waved dismissively. "All I'd need to do is hop in the suit and go. My stuff doesn't matter."

"Because you can buy what you need?"

"Something like that," he said and winced, remembering that wasn't entirely true at the moment.

"Right." Steve nodded, not quite seeming convinced. He hesitated and Tony braced himself for a rehash of their early morning conversation, but Steve said simply, "Sorry to disturb you."

"It wasn't a very good dream anyway." He closed the door and sighed. Going back to sleep had not been the right decision. Not only did he have the possibly-predictive nightmare-it seemed inevitable that Ross would seek him out to gloat at some point-he felt worse than he had the first time he woke: groggy, disoriented, and sick to his stomach. Coffee would be his answer to the first two, if it weren't for the last.

"Boss, your medication."

And there was that. Grumbling, he left the solid support of the doorjamb to find the bottle. At least the cup of water he drank after swallowing the pill didn't further upset his stomach.

It took some fumbling around in his bed before he found his phone, then he took it and the tablet to the office to see to a few things. Awaiting him was the initial report about the individuals involved in the investigation; he asked Hill to have someone look into those people, and also the blogger who had gotten Mel concerned. Hill was probably already on top of it, but he couldn't afford to make faulty assumptions.

Then it was time to call his guy at the U.N., specifically the head of the U.N. panel for enforcing the Sokovia Accords, or whatever his official title was. The exchange of pleasantries was brief, then they got down to business, specifically what Tony wanted to do as a result of the investigation. His suggestion was met with considerable skepticism, but he could do something about that. After laying out his case, it was simply a matter of providing assurance that he had no intention of vanishing into thin air before the head of the panel agreed to his proposal and promised to see that it was made official through the appropriate channels.

He considered whether to contact the quinjet or make a few notes for all of the explaining he was going to have to do before the end of the day. The notes would require reviewing the legal mumbo jumbo alongside the current draft of his statement, which would be annoying. His decision was postponed when he received a response from Bill about his earlier message. He was calling Bill before he even reached the end of the brief reply.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark." Bill sounded a little tired, and only then did he realize how early it was on the west coast.

Whatever, if he was replying to email he could field a phone call. "Really? You're making me put up with Hugh this afternoon?" he demanded.

"Hugh Mortimer is the head of the New York office, as you well know."

"That pompous British a-"

"-if you disliked him as much as you claim, you'd have fired him a long time ago."

"Just because he says things in a charming accent doesn't make the things he says any less asinine," he protested.

"And yet he has met with great success in negotiations on your behalf."

"Which is why he's still on my payroll. That doesn't mean I want to have to interact with him directly."

Bill was silent a moment before he said, "Was there anything else, Mr. Stark?"

He considered. "Yeah, while I've got you, I want to run a couple of things by you. I'm trying to anticipate the questions and need to double-check how much I can say."

Bill almost certainly had better things to do, and by all rights he could have insisted that Tony ask Hugh instead, but he had the patience of a saint and stayed on the phone with him for another half hour. Tony would have to give him one hell of a bonus when it was all over.

He continued making notes and jotted down a few more clarifications he'd need, just in case. All of the legalese made his head hurt (worse) and there was a lot implied rather than stated outright, but he should be able to speak confidently. And the questions raised when he told the others would be a helpful predictor for the afternoon.

Time to find out when he'd have to bare his soul. "Friday, patch me into the quinjet comm."

"What, do you miss us already?" Clint teased as soon as a beep indicated he was connected.

"You wish, Katniss. More like finding out when my freedom ends. What's your ETA?"

"We'll be back on the ground in two and a half hours. You could have asked Friday, you know."

"But then I wouldn't be able to torment you, and we all know that's my true joy in life." Tony leaned back in the chair, grinning a little since no one could see him. "What's everyone else doing?"

"Watching Rhodey and Vision play chess. Maybe more like watching Vision utterly defeat Rhodey at chess."

"Is Vision back to his usual self?" He was still a little worried that they might've managed to break the android.

"Seems like it, and Wanda thinks all is well."

"Good. I'll see you guys in a few hours."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Yes."

The smile that lasted until the end of the conversation soon faded. He was doing as much as he knew to do to protect them, but it didn't feel like enough. It would never feel like enough.

He didn't realize he hadn't disconnected from the quinjet until Rhodey's voice came on the line. "Tony, you have a minute?"

"For you, always."

"Good, because there are two things I need to say."

Rhodey's tone had him frowning. "Are you about to scold me? Is everyone listening to this?"

"I am in as private a corner as is possible when we're all crammed on a jet," Rhodey replied. "And yes, you're in for a dressing down. First, when you put me in charge, you need to let me be in charge. Ideas are fine, orders are not, and what you said to Nat and Wanda sure sounded like orders."

"Yes, mom," Tony said sarcastically.

"Second, telling Wanda to influence the enemy was absolutely not okay. There are some things that should not be done, Tony, and underhanded tactics like that are in the not-to-be-done category."

He bristled. "You're agreeing with Rogers? That's just peachy. It's so nice to have support from my friend."

Rhodey was silent for a moment. "I'm sure there was more to that conversation, but yes. Using Wanda's abilities that way is not acceptable."

He felt a renewed surge of anxiety as he remembered watching the scene unfold. "You were outnumbered and outgunned. Somebody was going to go down if nothing changed. I couldn't let it be you. I've already watched you fall once."

"Tony," Rhodey said, then heaved a sigh so deep it was audible over the line. "It wasn't that dire, I promise. I had a couple of ideas, but you didn't give me time to try them. I didn't even get to use my new laser."

"Laser?" he echoed uncertainly.

"Remember the one-off you used on Vanko's drones to cut them in half? I guess you forgot that I made you put that in my new suit. It would've been perfect against the jetpacks."

"Right," he said faintly.

"My other options included having Wanda mess with the jetpacks-not the people, the tech-so they'd fail. Or try the sonic cannon. Wilson hadn't even gotten his drone out yet, and you know he can do some damage with it."

Tony was simultaneously reassured and horrified. "I didn't think of any of that," he said dully. And since that was true of the fight, what was he missing when it came to everything else?

"You would have, if you weren't tired out of your mind and dealing with whatever that other thing is," Rhodey said confidently.

He didn't answer, too busy second- and third-guessing every move he'd made the past few days. Pepper had been disappointed in him, too; she was probably right. Scratch that. She was almost certainly right.

"Tony?" Rhodey sounded worried.

"I'm still here."

"Are you okay?"

Tony huffed a humorless laugh. "If you're asking, you know the answer is no."

"I wish you'd tell us how we can help you," Rhodey said, sounding resigned.

"I promised to tell you what's up when you get back, and I'll keep that promise. What happens afterward isn't really up to me."

"Well, call me if you need to talk before we get back."

"Sure thing, honeybear." This time he made sure he'd hung up. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and rested his chin in his hands, his elbows planted firmly on the desk.

Eventually, he said, "Friday, where is Doc T?"

"Doctor Thomas departed the compound as part of the evacuation drill, boss."

Right. "Is the drill nearly finished?"

"Yes, boss. Personnel have begun returning to the grounds."

"Is the doc's calendar open for the rest of the morning?"

"Yes, boss."

"Alert me when she is back at her office," he ordered, then returned to his mess of notes to go over them with the proverbial fine-tooth comb.

It was maybe a half hour later when Friday provided the requested notification. He wrapped up what he was doing and left the office to find the doc. Time to see what she thought of his current morass.