As one of you asked about my uploading schedule: I try to upload one chapter per week. As I can't focus too much on fanfiction during the week, the chapters will be uploaded on the weekends mostly.

Also, I'm glad you are beginning to read this, because I am not sure about this ff. For me it means a lot, and I had a lot of Tony-feelings while writing this (I already have the whole story written, but now I need to translate it into english), but of course everyone is different and has different interests. So again, please let me know what you think.

Chapter 4

"Ungh... fuck."

Before he was even fully awake, Tony already felt the side effects of last night. His stomach felt like he had eaten a plate of raw intestines, and he was sure his head had swollen up to twice its size. Tony would have preferred to just sleep it off, but he felt so nauseous he had to get up and open the window, craving for some fresh air. The sun was already high in the sky, and it was quite hot. He had no idea how he had gotten into bed last night. He might remembered Happy and Rhodey, but he couldn't say for sure.

While massaging his temples, he went down to the kitchen to counteract his dehydration, still dressed in the suit from the previous day. Both Happy and Pepper were sitting at the table drinking coffee, but Tony had little desire for company.

"Morning, boss," Happy muttered routinely.

Tony didn't answer, took a glass from the kitchen cupboard, and poured himself some water. Feeling sick, he wanted to lie down again as quickly as possible. The rest of his life could be continued when he felt better again.

"Great performance, Tony. Really – it was amazing," Pepper said bitingly.

Slightly astonished, Tony turned to her. Only now did he notice the television on the wall, with volume turned down. For a moment he paused, when he saw himself vomiting over a railing, but then he pretended not to have seen anything and focused on his water again.

Damn, that really happened?... really?

Demonstratively, Pepper turned up the volume.

"... when it escalated at Tony Stark's company party. A mass brawl had to be resolved by the police, seven employees of Stark Industries and five journalists were arrested. This didn't even get to the host, as can be seen on this footage. Tony Stark didn't show much responsibility..."

Once again, the scene was faded in, showing Tony stagger against the stair railing, visibly drunk, then throwing up.

Tony was torn. On the one hand, laughing at this absurd footage - his employees had been arrested and he hadn't even realized it because he had gone so overboard at the party that he had to vomit in front of everyone - the constellation was a bit amusing. And on the other hand, the shame he felt at this embarrassment and exposure of his questionable condition.

However, he showed no emotion, took his glass, and walked to the door. He didn't want to listen to Pepper's speech of morality. She would accuse him of not being able to take responsibility, of not being able to afford negative headlines, especially at this time, until the company was back in the black – and in general, had she not told him so many times what went wrong at his parties? Hell no, Pepper could criticize him later. Later, when he wasn't so badly hungover.

"... just last week, many were calling for Stark to be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. After this evening, however, it should be clear to all advocates that they were mistaken. Because - where was Iron Man when a Los Angeles shopping mall was attacked by terrorists with a bombing that killed three people? Why didn't Iron Man help? Why did Tony Stark get drunk at a bad party instead? More information from our local correspondent..."

Tony had paused in mid-motion and now stood frozen in the door. He heard Pepper fumbling for the remote and changing the program, but it was too late anyway. He had heard what he needed to hear.

"Oops...", Happy gasped.

Tony turned his head around, looking Pepper directly in her eyes. Not because he was angry with her, but because he wanted to see what she was thinking. Whether she found agreement in what the reporter had said. All he could tell, however, was that she was staring at him anxiously. Tony knew that she hadn't intended for him to hear something like that, she might even constantly shield him from exactly such things...

He turned his back on them and closed his eyes. Was that what people were thinking? Was Iron Man always to blame when something bad happened? Wasn't he allowed to party or go out for dinner? Wasn't he allowed to have fun or to sleep anymore, because there was always something terrible going on somewhere in the world and he had to be there? Was it his failure or even ignorance every time he didn't act? Was he no longer allowed to be Tony Stark? Or maybe… people were right…? If he hadn't drunk that much, he might have been able to protect these people. After all, wasn't this exactly what he wanted to do with his newfound life?

"Tony," Pepper said softly. He could tell immediately from her voice that she was sorry and that she hadn't meant to attack him like that with the TV report. But it wasn't her fault; what had happened yesterday had happened, and now he had to live with the fact that he had been celebrating rather than lurking on a possible mission.

But could he have prevented the bomb explosion in the first place? How could he have known about it in advance? Tony shook his head. He had to get out of here; he couldn't stay. He needed to be alone. No matter who was to blame now, no matter who was or wasn't in charge, no matter what he was and wasn't allowed to do - right now it was all too much for him.

Tony took off, Pepper following behind him, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He quickly locked himself in the nearest bathroom and reached the toilet just in time, before throwing up due to the sudden overwhelming nausea.

Maybe they were right. He was no hero. He still was an unreliable, rich playboy who couldn't take responsibility. Not even Iron Man could compensate Tony Stark's weaknesses.

Pepper stood outside the bathroom door, wondering if she should knock...

But there would be little point. She'd been working for Tony long enough now to know halfway what made him tick. She knew for a fact that he was thinking a thousand thoughts right now. Even though he always pretended not to care or worry about anything, she knew better.

And since he had returned from Afghanistan... Since he had changed his life... Since then everything had changed. That was understandable, even if she still didn't know what exactly had happened to him there. She knew that the soldiers around him had fallen while he had survived, that he had been held captive in that cave for three months, that they had tortured him to make them the Jericho, that he had built the first Iron Man suit there out of a pile of scrap metal and had lost an important person who had been his only support there.

But she had no idea how Tony had fared there and what damage he had brought with him. She didn't know how Tony was doing today. Were these experiences tormenting him? Had he already processed them through the identity as Iron Man? Since he was back in America, she tried to keep everything away from him, to take as much pressure off him as possible, to keep his back open for what he had set out to do: make amends. But she wasn't blind, she could tell perfectly well that he was hiding something from her.

Pepper held her hand to the door. Indecisively, she stood there, wondering if she should say something. The way he had just looked at her... his eyes had been so full of pain that she could literally feel it herself. But he wouldn't let her get close to him, he never did, so she decided to go back to Happy.

"Jarvis," she muttered as she walked. "Put all the calls for Tony through to me today. Except for press inquiries, you can turn those down right now."

It took a moment, in which Pepper thought that the highly intelligent computer must have been checking to see if that was an authorized command, before replying, "Very well, Miss Potts."

Tony looked into Yinsen's empty eyes. He was dead. Tony saw blood leaking from a wound on Yinsen's stomach, slowly seeping away. He could not tear himself away from the sight of those glassy, empty eyes, where the fire of life had gone out in one fell swoop.

The man to whom he owed life, who had helped him bear the pain. Yinsen had kept him alive, he had given him hope, and not just once. Not just when he had pulled the shrapnel out of Tony's chest and put the electromagnet in him, not just when he had helped him build the armor and escape. No, he had kept him alive every single minute there. By Yinsen not giving up on him, by spurring him on to help himself; by telling him that he could still expect more from life, get a second chance, and get things right.

Never before, had he felt so much hatred and sadness at the same time as he did at that moment. His life saver had died for him. Just as so many others had died before - at the hands of his weapons.

He still gazed into Yinsen's eyes, unable to break away from the horror.

Rhodey had been standing in front of the sun lounger in Tony's backyard for five minutes now, watching his friend, who obviously needed a nap after all the exertion of last night. Rhodey had seen the news this morning. He'd been dreading it.

Tony's eyelids were fluttering, there was sweat on his forehead, and he was shifting restlessly back and forth. Rhodey wondered where Tony was right now. In any case, a pleasant dream looked different. Tony was suddenly tossing and turning more and more restlessly, so Rhodey decided to wake him up. He had to shake him a few times until Tony made a startled sound and opened his eyes.

And then, completely unprepared, Rhodey saw the same panicked look he had seen back in the helicopter during Tony's rescue from the desert. Only briefly, while Tony's eyes stared into his, but long enough for him to recognize it.

He could still remember it clearly. At first it had looked like Tony was just immensely tired and exhausted, which was self-explanatory. So they had brought him into the helicopter, placed him on a stretcher, and set about first aid. As much as Tony had been relieved to be rescued at first, he then suddenly seemed out of it. As if his psyche had only held out all this time until he finally knew he was safe... just to collapse. Rhodey would never forget how Tony's eyes had suddenly widened in sheer terror. It had taken minutes of screaming, lashing out, and begging over and over again to stop torturing him until they finally managed to calm him down a bit. From that moment on, he had realized that the Tony he had known for so long was gone; that something inside him had been irreparably damaged.

And with that same panicked eyes, Tony had now looked at him again. For a millisecond, and yet not to be missed.

"Hey, it's just me," Rhodey said, startled.

"Rhodey..." Tony said almost a little out of breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead; he didn't look well.

"Are you all right?" the colonel asked worried.

"Yeah, sure."

Rhodey eyed him briefly. "I just wanted to see if you were feeling any better. That wasn't exactly a fun night, was it?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Listen... You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"What would I want to talk about?"

Tony's answers came too quickly, too calculatedly. Rhodey waited for Tony to say something without being asked first, but he seemed more occupied with controlling himself.

"Is Pepper still around?" Rhodey asked.

"I think so."

"I'll go check, ok?"

"Do you need my permission for that? Yes, you can go play with Pepper. But stay close to the adults, okay?"

Tony grinned and Rhodey returned it with a smile.

Tony watched Rhodey go inside and tried to pull himself together. These nightmares were really starting to get to him. But what was he supposed to do about it? Stop sleeping? Impossible. He was so tired.

With difficulty, he straightened up and strolled a few laps around his estate while he was thinking. Somehow, he had to try balancing his private life and Iron Man's duties. And then there was the company, which had been waiting for months for him to come up with new ideas. But how was he supposed to focus on that when all he did all day was waiting to go back to his nightmares at night? And what about that panic attack a few days ago? What was that suppose to mean? Tony felt helpless and ashamed. He didn't want to feel such weakness, such lurking fear. He wanted to be carefree again.

The sun was starting to set, and Tony decided to go inside, maybe order a pizza, and then work on his new armor, which was just about to be finished. At least one thing to distract him.

When he entered the living room, he found Pepper and Rhodey standing together, suddenly silent. Both looked at him guiltily.

"Don't let me interrupt you," he said contritely, preferring to disappear right into the workshop.

They should just keep talking about him. Everyone was obviously quite good at that today.