Tony squinted as the ramp of the C-130 lowered before him, revealing the tarmac at Edwards Air Force Base. The Southern California sun wasn't quite as bright as the sun over the Afghan desert, but after sixteen hours in the belly of a cargo plane - they'd stopped once, but Tony hadn't been allowed off the plane, so he didn't even remember where - pretty much any light would be on the edge of too bright.
He'd ordered a suit while he was in Germany, the first stop on his journey home, and had managed to get into it with Rhodey's help. The fit was good enough, for a rush job, but the coat barely fit over his right arm where it was strapped to his chest in a sling.
The medical staff had insisted on a wheelchair, but as the ramp lowered, Tony used his good arm to leverage himself to his feet. Rhodey was there beside him, and though he clung to Rhodey's hand, Tony stood tall and looked straight ahead as he descended the ramp.
Not far ahead of him, Pepper Potts stood waiting, her hands clasped before her and a tremulous smile on her face. Behind her, Happy Hogan stood solidly beside a black Rolls Royce.
Not for the first time, Tony thanked whatever Power there might be that Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy were in his life. With those three beside him, he didn't need a sentinel.
Nor did he need the gurney being wheeled toward him by two paramedics.
He didn't even look at Rhodey. "What - are you kidding me with this? Get rid of it."
To his credit, Rhodey didn't protest, just waved the paramedics away as he released Tony's hand.
Cautiously, Tony stretched out his new empathic senses as he approached Pepper, grateful beyond words at the genuine relief and affection she radiated as well as Happy's solidly Zen presence.
He stopped a few feet from Pepper and regarded her seriously. "Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long-lost boss?"
"Tears of joy. I hate job hunting." Her smile didn't dim, and neither did her relief nor affection, despite the barb.
Tony allowed himself a moment to smile before he sobered. "Yeah, vacation's over."
He stepped past her toward the car, and then Happy was closing the door behind him.
A minute later, Happy slid into the driver's seat. "Where to, sir?"
Pepper leaned forward. "Take us to the hospital, please, Happy."
"No," Tony said immediately, and Pepper turned in her seat as much as her seat belt would let her.
"But, Tony, you have to-"
"I don't have to do anything," Tony snapped. Her expression crumpled with hurt and he moderated his tone as he continued, "I've been in captivity for three months. There are two things I want to do. First, I want an American cheeseburger. And the other-"
Pepper grimaced. "That's enough of that-"
"It's not what you think," Tony told her, reminding himself to be patient because she didn't know what he'd gone through in Afghanistan, much less that he was online as a guide. "I want you to call for a press conference. Now."
*BREAK*
Tony figured a bunch of reporters would already be at Stark Industries, not that anyone knew that's where he was heading, so asking Pepper to arrange an immediate press conference wasn't the burden it might normally have been. But, as Happy pulled up in front of Stark Industries HQ, and as Tony was finishing the current cheeseburger - he'd gotten half a dozen and this was his fourth - he saw that the crowd of people outside wasn't made up of reporters. Or, not just of reporters.
No, the people gathered outside were SI employees. Tony's employees. They were his, and they were cheering his return - with genuine gratitude, if his empathic impressions were correct - which was a little surprising, since he hadn't considered himself a good boss.
A generous boss, yes. An accommodating boss, yes. But good? Let alone great? Not remotely.
Still, his people had turned out for him, and waving at them as he climbed out of the Rolls seemed both appropriate and inadequate at the same time. If Tony had had more than cursory training from the military medical staff, he'd broadcast gratitude and other positive emotions in acknowledgment.
But he hadn't, so he settled for smiling and waving, even as Obadiah Stane grandstanded a bit. That was Obie, though, and his gregarious nature made him the perfect public face for Stark Industries while Tony worked outside the public eye creating and fabricating the weapons and armor SI was famous for.
Then Obie was wrapping him in a bear hug, and Tony felt…nothing.
Tony patted Obie's back with his good hand even as he considered the options. His online status was, as far as he knew, still unknown, so Obie wasn't taking defensive measures as a result of that status.
Which left two possibilities: either Obie was psionically null, or he was wearing a damper.
There was nothing wrong with either of those things, of course, but Tony's instincts screamed for him to find out which one it was, so he knew how to place Obie in his pride.
But he'd called a press conference, and the reporters were waiting for him. Tony promised his inner Guide that he'd find out Obie's status as soon as he could, and then followed Obie inside.
Obie did what Obie did best - playing to the gathered reporters, moving past them with practiced ease to take his place behind the podium at the front of the room.
Tony sat down in front of the podium, leaned back against it, and reached into his pocket for the last cheeseburger.
"Tony?" Obie's voice came from above him.
"Yeah, I don't feel like standing right now," Tony said as he unwrapped the cheeseburger. "Would it be all right if everyone sat down? Be a little less formal?"
The reporters seemed startled, but as he took a bite and chewed, they slowly sank to the floor, sitting or kneeling as they preferred or their clothing allowed. Obie sank down beside him looking concerned.
"Good to see you," Tony said, and Obie's expression cleared a little.
"Good to see you, too, Tony."
Tony finished the last of the final cheeseburger, tucked the wrapper into his pocket, and wiped his hands and lips with his handkerchief, using the moment to gather his thoughts. Or, well, he'd been thinking those thoughts since that first horrified glimpse of his own weapons being used against him. Now, he just needed to find the right words to express them.
"When Dad started this company," Tony began, "the world was different. Nostalgia makes us think it was a better world than the one we've got now, but I'm not sure that's true. I mean, when Dad started the company, we barely had antibiotics, and I for one don't want to go back to a time without those."
Laughter rippled through the gathered reporters, and Tony smiled in return before continuing.
"And, of course, we were just heading into the Second World War - the one that followed the War to End All Wars, which was hilariously optimistic, by the way. Humans have been at war since there were humans, and will be as long as there are humans. This century has seen fewer wars than the others, but fewer is not none."
"That's depressing as hell."
Tony didn't even try to figure out who'd spoken. Instead, he just grinned at the reporters. "It's realistic. Because humans don't change. We're still fundamentally hardwired the way we've always been and always will be." He waved his good hand. "Sorry, tangent. The point is, while I was over there, I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them."
He let his gaze roam over the seated reporters, felt their uneasiness at his words. "I saw that, and I don't know how it happened. I mean, I certainly didn't sell my weapons to terrorists."
He was oddly relieved that everyone in the room appeared to accept that as gospel truth. God knew, he'd been raked over the coals in the press more than once since he'd taken over SI. Then again, he'd never been missing, held captive and possibly presumed dead, for three months before.
"So." Tony rose to his feet, the move calculated to emphasize his next words. "Effective immediately, I am pausing all new development at SI. We will honor all existing contracts, but no new contracts will be entertained until a full audit of SI's contracts, inventory, and deliveries is completed."
That provoked a sense of consternation amongst some of the reporters - and, also…Rhodey? But that couldn't be right, could it? - but mostly, Tony sensed relief. Which reminded him that he should make an appointment with the local Protectorate offices for more in-depth training.
"Does that mean you're never building weapons again?" a man shouted from the crowd.
Before Tony could answer, Obie was hustling him away.
Tony let himself be led, if only to get to some psychic peace and quiet.
He had a lot of work to do and, most likely, very little time to do it.
*BREAK*
Tony didn't override Pepper when she asked Happy to take him home. As they approached, Tony couldn't help but wonder if his guide instincts had led him to the little island off the coast because it provided a bit of a psionic buffer from the mass of humanity that was Southern California.
That was a question for another day. For now, he asked Pepper and Happy to join him in the living room.
While Tony slipped his suit coat off and loosened his tie, Happy detoured to the kitchen, returning shortly with three glasses of water carried carefully in his hands.
"What's up, boss?" Happy asked as he distributed the glasses.
Tony gestured for his companions to make themselves comfortable and took a seat himself and decided bluntness would serve him best at the moment.
"I came online during my escape."
Surprise, followed quickly by acceptance and…relief?
Tony wasn't sure which of the two of them were relieved or why, but he was relieved that both of them felt true.
"Sentinel or guide?" Happy asked.
"Guide."
Pepper opened her planner - paper, much to Tony's amusement - and pulled a fountain pen from the elastic loop at the edge. "I'll make an appointment with the local center."
"Put it off as long as you can." Tony took a sip of water and continued, "Right now, outside of the military personnel who got me out of Afghanistan and the medical staff, only the two of you know, and that's an advantage I don't want to give up until I know how my weapons ended up in terrorist hands."
"Are you coping okay, boss?"
Tony tried to smile at Happy, but wasn't sure how successful he was. "Yeah, I'm fine. A sentinel came online with me, and he helped me get stabilized, both medically and psionically."
Happy frowned. "So where is he? Your sentinel should be with you."
"He's not mine." Tony heard the regret in his tone as well as the words. He liked Eddie Diaz and figured they could've made a decent partnership if they tried - if they'd been psionically compatible, which they weren't.
Pepper looked up, surprise clear on her face and in her emotional tone. "But-"
"I know." Tony held up a hand. "But we're not compatible enough to be a pair. For now, get the audit started. I want it fast and good, and I don't care how much it costs."
"Of course," Pepper murmured. "Also, at the press conference, an Agent Coulson with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division said he needs to debrief you about the circumstances of your escape." She frowned a little. "I told him we'd already been approached by the FBI, CIA, DOD - but he just said they have a different focus."
"Find out what it is," Tony said with a frown of his own. Something about the agency's name sent unease skittering across his psionic senses. It was familiar, somehow, but he couldn't place it. "I'm willing to talk to anyone with a legitimate need to know, but this Strategic whatever has no need to know until I'm convinced otherwise."