Chapter 3

"Ungh... fuck."

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

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

"Hello, boss," Happy muttered routinely, reaching for a newspaper.

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

"Great performance, Tony. Really - it was amazing," Pepper said caustically.

Slightly surprised, Tony turned to her. Only now did he notice the television on the wall, the volume turned down. He paused for a moment when he saw himself vomiting over a railing, but then he pretended not to have seen anything and looked at 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 to show Tony staggering against the railing of the stairs, visibly drunk, and then throwing up.

Tony was torn. On the one hand, he could laugh at the absurdity of it all - his employees had been arrested and he hadn't even noticed because he'd overindulged so much at the party that he'd had to throw up 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 and of not being able to afford negative headlines, especially at this time, until the company was back in the black. 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 last night, however, it should be clear to all advocates that they were mistaken. Because where was Iron Man when terrorists bombed a Los Angeles mall, killing three people? Why didn't Iron Man help? Why did Tony Stark instead get drunk at a bad party? More from our local correspondent…"

Tony had stopped in mid-movement and now stood frozen in the doorway. He heard Pepper fumbling with the remote and changing the channel, but it was too late anyway. He had heard what he had to hear.

"Oops..." Happy gasped.

Tony turned his head and looked Pepper straight in the eyes. Not because he was angry with her, but because he wanted to see what she was thinking. If she agreed with what the reporter had said. All he could tell was that she was staring at him anxiously. Tony knew that she didn't want him to hear something like that, maybe she even shielded him from such things all the time...

He turned his back and closed his eyes. Was that what people thought? Was Iron Man always to blame when something bad happened? Was he not allowed to party or go out to dinner? Was he not allowed to have fun or 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 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 possibly prevented the unfortunate bomb explosion in the first place? How could he have possibly known about it in advance? Tony shook his head. He felt compelled to leave the situation; he couldn't stay. He felt the need to be alone. Regardless of who was to blame now, regardless of who was or wasn't in charge, regardless of what he was and wasn't allowed to do – right now, it was all too much for him.

Tony walked away, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. Pepper followed him. He quickly locked himself in the nearest bathroom and reached the toilet just in time to throw up from the sudden overwhelming nausea.

Maybe they were right. He was no superhero. He was still 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... Everything had changed since then. That was understandable, even if she still didn't know exactly what 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 out of a pile of scrap metal there, and that he had lost an important person there who had been his only support.

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?

Ever since he had returned to America, she had tried to keep everything 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 see that he was hiding something from her. Which was okay somehow... because she was his employee, and it was none of her business to take care of his well-being as well. However, their relationship wasn't just boss - employee. She did things for him that no other assistant would ever do. This made her role in the whole situation unclear. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know how.

Pepper put her hand on the door. Indecisive, she stood there, wondering if she should say anything. 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 finally decided to go back to Happy.

"Jarvis," she muttered on her way. "Put all the calls for Tony through me today. Except for press inquiries, you can turn those down immediately."

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 watched as blood slowly trickled out of a wound on Yinsen's stomach. He could not tear himself away from the sight of those glassy, empty eyes, the fire of life extinguished in one fell swoop.

The man he owed his life to, who had helped him to bear the pain. Yinsen had kept him alive, 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 inspiring him to help himself, by telling him that he could expect more from life, that he could get a second chance, that he could make things right.

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

He still looked into Yinsen's eyes, unable to tear himself away from the horror.

Rhodey had been standing in front of the deck chair 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 watched the news this morning. He'd feared it.

Tony's eyelids fluttered. There was sweat on his forehead and he shifted restlessly. Rhodey wondered where Tony was. In any case, a pleasant dream did not look like this. 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 noise and opened his eyes.

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

He remembered it clearly. At first, it had looked like Tony was just incredibly tired and exhausted, which was self-explanatory. Of course, Rhodey had known that Tony had been kidnapped, because they hadn't found his body among the other fallen soldiers. But he hadn't known if Tony was still alive after three months without any signs of life. So seeing Tony walking through the desert was the craziest gift Rhodey had ever gotten.

Then they had helped him into the helicopter, put him on a stretcher and started to administer first aid. As relieved as Tony had been to be rescued, he suddenly seemed out of it. It was as if his psyche had endured all this time until he finally knew he was safe... only 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 for them to stop hurting him before they had finally managed to calm him down a bit. From that moment on, Rhodey had realized that the Tony he had known for so long would no longer exist; that something inside him had been irreparably damaged.

And with the same panicked look, Tony had looked at him again. For a second, maybe, and yet not to be missed.

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

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

"Are you all right?" the Colonel asked worriedly.

"Yeah, sure."

Rhodey looked at him briefly. "I just wanted to see if you were feeling better. Yesterday was-"

"I'm fine, thanks."

Like last night, Rhodey had a strange feeling.

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

"What would I want to talk about?"

Tony's answers came too fast, too calculated. Rhodey waited for Tony to say something without being asked, but he seemed more concerned with controlling himself.

"Is Pepper still here?" Rhodey asked.

"I think so."

"I'll go check, okay?"

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

Tony grinned and Rhodey returned it with a weak smile.

Tony watched Rhodey go in and tried to pull himself together. These nightmares were really starting to get to him. But what could he do about it? Stop sleeping? He tried. But it was impossible. He was so tired all the time.

With difficulty, he sat up and walked around his estate a few times, thinking. Somehow he had to try to balance his life and his duties as Iron Man. And then there was the company, which had been waiting for him to come up with new ideas for months. But how could he focus on that when all he did all day was wait for his nightmares to return? And what about the panic attack a few days ago? Being afraid wasn't something he knew very well, he wasn't the anxious type. What he could say was that he didn't like it.

He felt helpless and ashamed. He didn't want to feel that weakness, that 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 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 ruefully, preferring to disappear into the workshop.

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