Chapter 16

"Have you recently experienced feelings of depressed mood, perhaps accompanied by decreased interest or pleasure?"

"No."

"Have you experienced fatigue or lack of energy?"

"No."

"Do you have any feelings of anxiety that seem to occur frequently or are of a very high intensity?"

"No."

"Do you have any current sleep disturbances, such as difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep?"

"No."

"Feelings of worthlessness?"

"Are you kidding?"

Tony sat upright in his hospital bed with his arms crossed, trying to keep his expression calm.

Next to him, at some distance, sat a psychiatrist. Dr. Liam White was a slim, tall man who exuded at least as much presence as Tony. He was handsome, smartly dressed and charming. And that was exactly what had been the first thing that had bothered Tony about this psychiatrist. And now he had to deal with these stupid questions. He was going to throw up all over the floor if he had to listen to that kind of bullshit any longer.

"Mis-ter Staaaaark," Dr. White said very slowly, crossing his legs. "Please be serious and just answer the questions."

Tony sighed in exasperation. "No, I don't feel worthless. On the contrary, I am more than aware of my invaluable worth."

Dr. White ignored the comment and took some notes. "You seem stricken."

"So do you."

"I have difficult patients sometimes, what's your problem?"

Tony couldn't help but grin. It almost seemed as if he had found someone who was a match for Tony. Someone who wasn't intimidated by sitting across from Tony Stark.

"Do you think you can take this seriously?" the psychiatrist asked again.

"You're the expert. Do you think I can?"

Dr. White glared at him, seemingly still patient. Not bad.

"Mr. Stark, you do know that I am the one who decides if, when and how you leave this hospital, right?"

Tony gritted his teeth and stared back. It was a power play in which Tony was clearly involved. But apparently the psychiatrist knew how to play this game, too.

"Now I'm going to ask you again. Is your increased drinking due to recent stressful events?"

"No."

"Then why the drinking?"

"What's with the drinking?"

"That's what I'm asking you."

"What are you asking me?"

Dr. White put down the papers and sighed. There you go, finally annoyed.

"We're not getting anywhere like this..." he muttered, eyeing Tony closely. "I just want to help you."

Tony let out a frustrated exclamation. "I'm tired of hearing that! Everybody wants to help me, but nobody asks what I want."

"All right then. What do you want?"

"I want peace and quiet! I just want to be left alone for a moment!"

"Do you realize that your behavior says something else? Being hospitalized, for the known reasons, unfortunately attracts some attention. There is no way to be left alone when you overdose on drugs."

"Is that so?" Tony snapped at him defiantly.

"Yes," the psychiatrist replied calmly. "You will not get away with it so easily. First, we are going to have a talk about all this. And now I want you to stop being so condescending to me and be honest instead."

"I am."

"So you're telling me there have been no stressful events in your life lately? Maybe next time you should retire from public life or be more careful what you do when you leave the house before you lie to me. I know you have been attacked by terrorists several times. It was all in the media."

There was a long pause. Tony almost burst with anger. He hated this conversation, he hated everything about it. He felt like a child again, having to answer to his father.

"How about we postpone this conversation to next week?" Dr. White asked. "Then we can talk about your discharge again."

"To next week?" Tony asked, suddenly horrified.

"You are obviously not ready to talk to me yet. Which is perfectly fine. But I can't give you an okay for discharge without knowing what emotional state you're in. Like I said, I will not let you get away with this so easily. We have to talk about what happened first." He looked at his watch. "We have about twenty minutes left. You decide what to do with them."

Tony hated having to give in. He hated that this pompous ass had the upper hand. He hated losing this power play.

"Mr. Stark," Dr. White said, leaning forward. "I'm not trying to make you look stupid, or force you to talk about something you're not ready to talk about yet, or even to keep you here. It's simply to find out if you're in acute danger of suicide or if we can release you to go home."

Tony lowered his arms and hesitated. He had no choice. If he wanted to get out of here, he had to talk. At least a little.

"God... I can't believe I have to deal with this," he sighed.

"With what?"

"The consequences of my actions."

The psychiatrist chuckled briefly. "So usually that's not the case?"

"Well. No. Usually I just do what I want."

"Then welcome to the world of adults, Mr. Stark, where our actions not only have consequences, but where we also must face those consequences."

Tony sighed again, then bit his lip. "This is confidential, right?" he asked quietly. "No one but you...?"

"No one," Dr. White confirmed.

"Fine, what do you want to know?"

"I want to know how you feel."

"Like shit," Tony admitted reluctantly. "I can't sleep, I have nightmares and panic attacks."

"Since when?" Dr. White asked, looking at him with more interest now.

"Since..." Tony said, hesitating again for a moment. "Since I came back from Afghanistan. As you probably heard, terrorists had kidnapped me... and they... they tortured me... they kept pushing my head under water until I thought I was drowning. Until I agreed to build them a missile they wanted. I built something else to escape instead."

"Iron Man."

"Exactly."

"And the nightmares you mentioned, are they about the torture?"

"Mostly, yes."

"I see. And it gets worse?"

"Yes. Sometimes I feel like the nightmares haunt me even during the day... maybe because I keep myself from sleeping."

"You mean you see the images sometimes even when you're not asleep? When you're awake?"

Dr. White looked at him with a worried expression now. Tony nodded and looked away. Talking about it was upsetting. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't even want to think about it.

"This is a bit alarming to be honest... sounds like flashbacks to me, but that would have to be looked at more closely. Is that why you started drinking more alcohol?" Dr. White asked, taking notes without taking his eyes off Tony. "Or how did you get these elevated liver enzymes?"

Knowing full well that silence would not help, Tony crossed his arms again. He was even less inclined to talk about this subject.

"Been to a lot of parties lately..." he mumbled, avoiding the psychiatrist's gaze.

"Parties..." Dr. White said without much conviction. "How often and how much do you drink?"

"Once in a while."

"Daily?"

"Of course not."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, wait. I've been using a lot of nasal spray lately. Had a bad cold. Maybe that's where the blood levels came from?"

Dr. White smiled slightly. Nasal spray and elevated liver enzymes - sure.

"I could give you some very good and reputable addresses for help."

"That's very kind of you, but I don't need it."

"Do not take this lightly. Your symptoms indicate a lot of stress, possibly post-traumatic stress. You need to see a professional. You could go to psychotherapy and learn how to deal with the panic attacks, talk about what happened to you, and try techniques for better sleep."

Tony said nothing, hoping that this conversation would gradually come to an end. He was almost unable to suppress the panic that was slowly building up inside him as he spoke about everything.

"So how did you end up drinking so much at that charity event on Friday night? A blood alcohol level of .42%, that's significant. And it means you have been drinking large amounts for some time now and have built up a high alcohol tolerance. Most people would have died with that amount of alcohol in their system. You instead were still able to walk. At least for a while. And if that wasn't enough, you took so much cocaine that the combination of the two caused you to collapse and stop breathing. I don't think someone like you is unaware of the effects both drugs have on the body. So what made you do it?"

Tony noticed that his hands were shaking. To be confronted with what he had done was unsettling.

"I can't explain..."

"I need you to try."

"I... I don't know. I lost control. I wasn't feeling well because I didn't get enough sleep, and then I had a fight with Pepper - that's my personal assistant but she's also... never mind... and uh, I was stressed, and so I got drunk I guess. And when I was completely wasted, I suddenly didn't care about anything anymore," Tony reflected, then looked directly at the psychiatrist. "But I didn't want that to happen. At some point I didn't even realize how drunk I already was."

"Yes, that's actually very typical with cocaine, that you don't realize how drunk you are," Dr. White explained, nodding.

But he had realized it. Tony could remember some parts of the night better now. And he remembered that somehow he knew what he was doing. It was as if he had been watching himself from a distance as he pushed himself more and more into a state of no return and a total loss of control. He knew that he was working his way into self-destruction and that he was pushing himself further and further into fulfilling this mission. So it ended where it inevitably had to end.

Stop thinking about it, he reminded himself as the thought frightened him. Just try to get out of this situation.

"I went too far, it won't happen again. I really didn't want this."

"You didn't mean for it to happen, yes. But by acting the way you did, you accepted the fact that it could happen. You put yourself in a dangerous situation and then just let it happen," Dr. White said, tilting his head, his narrow eyebrows knitted together in thought.

"Yes..." Tony admitted, trying to hold his gaze.

"Frankly, in my opinion, this is a matter of some serious concern. Your problems belong in professional hands. But it's not up to me to decide that for you. The responsibility is yours."

Stretching, Dr. White suddenly stood and extended his hand to Tony.

"There is no history in the records, and from a psychiatric standpoint, there is no need to refer you for inpatient treatment. You are not suicidal at the moment. Even though you haven't been completely honest with me on some points, and you seem very troubled and burdened to me, there's nothing I can do but recommend that you take care of yourself, limit your alcohol intake, and seek professional help in form of psychotherapy. And you really should do that, I strongly recommend it."

Tony shook his hand reluctantly and stayed silent. He hated doctors, nurses and psychiatrists.

Dr. White walked to the door, stopped, and turned around.

"Get help. This is only going to get worse, Mr. Stark. Do yourself the favor."

Six days after his admission, Tony was discharged with the psychiatrist's OK. He was glad to be going home. Pepper helped him into his suit jacket and then quickly straightened his tie. She still looked very worried, but she was also relieved to be going back to Malibu today.

"Shall we?" Pepper asked.

"The sooner the better."

The two walked out of the room, a nurse waved goodbye, and they got on the elevator.

"Listen," Pepper said thoughtfully. "There's a lot of press waiting down there. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Yeah, I figured as much," Tony replied, trying to look calm.

"Don't pay attention to what they say. We're not going to comment on anything. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will meet us at the entrance, drive us to the airport and escort us directly to the private jet."

"Wow. Coulson must be pissed. I'm sure I'll be grounded again," Tony commented.

"Very funny," Pepper said tonelessly.

The two exited the elevator and walked to the entrance. Tony could feel the tension rising in him. Hopefully they would get to the car as soon as possible. Two agents were waiting for them at the door.

"This way, please," one of them said, pointing through the glass door to the right.

Tony nodded and they all went outside. Five more agents joined them outside. Pepper hadn't made too many promises. The flurry of flashbulbs with which he was familiar immediately descended upon them. Tony lost count of how many reporters had set up camp outside the hospital. They were shouting and jostling. The agents did their best not to let anyone get too close. A few police officers were also there, trying to calm the group down. Tony was downright blinded and held his hand over his eyes. Pepper next to him did the same.

"How are you, Tony?"

"Can you confirm that you got hospitalized for overdosing?"

"I heard there was coke and hookers involved in this! Mr. Stark, can you comment on that?"

"Did you have a mental breakdown, Tony?"

"We got an interview with the doctors! They said you took cocaine, ecstasy, benzos and heroin. What do you have to say about that?"

"Eyewitnesses say you were having sex in a restroom while overdosing! Is that true?"

"Pepper Potts, how are you involved in this? Were you one of the women Mr. Stark had sex with in the restroom? Can you give us any information?"

"Tony! Tony, is this a cry for help or attention?"

Pepper grabbed his arm. "It's just yellow press bullshit, don't react. Just ignore it, Tony, ignore it."

Pepper must have sensed that Tony was struggling to keep from saying something, and he forced himself to walk silently to the car. Don't let them provoke you, he told himself several times, they're just waiting for you to snap.

Tony was relieved when he could hide behind the tinted windows of the Cadillac and the car started moving. He could feel Pepper giving him furtive looks, but she said nothing. Of course, he was used to such questions; it wasn't the first time he had caused a public scandal. But this was different. The questions and insinuations hit him harder than usual.

A short time later they arrived at the airport. Tony and Pepper quickly boarded the private jet, both wanting nothing more than to close a door behind them that could shield them from the rest of the world.

"Glad you could make it," a voice called from the back of the jet.

It was Agent Romanoff, sitting on the couch, scowling at Tony.

"What are you doing here?" Tony asked in surprise.

"Making sure you make it home in one piece with no further damage," the pretty agent replied.

Tony and Pepper sat down as the door of the jet closed.

"What the fuck, Stark! What the hell has gotten into you?" Romanoff yelled.

"I don't want to explain myself again," Tony said wearily.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to, Stark!" Romanoff replied sourly.

"Do I? Then I assume you got into trouble with Coulson?" Tony asked, half amused, half concerned.

"Yes, indeed. And I'll be happy to pass that trouble on to you!"

Tony turned to Pepper. "My God... she's always angry, isn't she?"

Romanoff tossed a handful of newspapers and magazines into his lap. Tony picked them up one by one and read the headlines. More uncomfortable needles bored into his body and his stress level rose again.

Tony Stark. From Merchant of Death to Drug Lord.

IRON MAN IN THE HOSPITAL! Tough on the outside, too soft on the inside?

The rise and fall of a superhero.

Rock star airs and graces! Tony Stark's 10 worst character flaws.

The breakdown of a celebrated hero. Did the pressure get too much?

MENTAL BREAKDOWN! COCAINE! ALCOHOL! THE END OF IRON MAN?

Drunk Iron Man. How much hero is left in Tony?

After overdose. Can pride and arrogance be blamed for Tony Stark's downfall?

Tony looked up at Romanoff's angry face. Pepper took the papers from his hand and groaned as she began to leaf through them as well.

"As if we didn't have enough trouble before!" Romanoff yelled. "What's the matter with you?"

Romanoff unleashed a torrent of angry questions and statements. Tony wanted to respond coolly, to casually brush it off, to distract her by talking big. But for some reason he couldn't think of anything to say. Tony was feeling overwhelmed and stressed. When were they finally going to leave him alone? When was he going to get some rest and a few hours of silence?

"Do you have any more such grandiose ideas? If so, I'd like to hear them now, so I can prepare myself for the next catastrophe!"

"Miss Romanoff!" Pepper suddenly shouted in a cutting tone. "I think that's enough!"

Both Tony and Romanoff looked at Pepper in surprise. Tony felt grateful to Pepper. She stood up for him, she stood by him, she tried to protect him. Romanoff seemed to realize that she had talked herself into a bit of a frenzy. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology and then silently looked out the window.

"Please fasten your seat belts," one of the stewardesses told them, and they did.

"Stark," Romanoff said then. "I, um... Are you feeling better?"

Tony looked at her stunned, then had to smile. "Yes. Thank you."

"That's good. I was worried."

The plane took off.

Happy was waiting for them when they landed. Tony was relieved that Happy greeted him in a normal way and didn't add any drama. He simply told him that he was glad that Tony was okay and that was the end of it. Tony couldn't wait to have some time alone.

"We should quickly discuss what to do next," Romanoff said, striding forward.

Pepper received a call at that moment. "I'll be right there," she said, the phone already at her ear.

So Tony followed Romanoff inside, Happy with his suitcase close behind. As they entered the living room, Tony loosened his tie a bit and brushed off his suit jacket, which he then dropped carelessly on the floor behind him, where Happy picked it up unasked.

"What a big house for just one person," Romanoff finally commented.

"That always leaves room for one more person," Tony countered.

"Yes? Do you have a particular person in mind?" she asked, coming very close and looking at him - was it flirtatious?

Tony looked into Romanoff's pretty face in total surprise, but then his eyes fell on her - suddenly very generous - cleavage. He could have sworn that two of the top buttons on her blouse had still been undone when they had been on the plane.

"Do you like what you see?" Romanoff asked quietly, smiling slightly.

"I always enjoy a good view," Tony replied, even more surprised, but now also grinning.

What was she up to? On the plane she had been angry at first, but then she had suddenly asked him how he was and expressed her concern. And now she was flirting with him? Changed or not, Tony Stark was still too much Tony Stark not to go for that. And somehow he was curious as well.

Romanoff reached for his tie, untied the knot, and while it was still around his neck, held both ends in her hand. Then she let go of one end and gave it a slight tug, causing the tie to slowly slide down his neck and finally fall off. Tony's neck tingled and his mouth opened automatically because he was getting a little... aroused? What was Romanoff doing?

At that moment, Happy cleared his throat noticeably loudly. Tony and Romanoff both looked in his direction, where Pepper was now also standing, obviously finished with her call. She scowled and crossed her arms. Romanoff, on the other hand, seemed visibly amused, and Tony wondered if she had deliberately created this situation.

"Good, you're here, let's talk for a minute," Romanoff said in Pepper's direction.

"So talking is what you call this," Pepper said sourly.

Romanoff did not respond and her tone became serious again.

"Okay, now this is how it goes. Under no circumstances are you talking to the press, none of you. S.H.I.E.L.D. will handle it, we'll discuss what kind of press release we end up putting out. I want you, Stark, to stay out of the public eye. Do you hear me? No shopping in town, no night walks in public places, no flights in the armor. And for God's sake, no more parties, galas, or events of any kind. Just stay where the press can't get to you."

"When are you sending out the press release?" Pepper asked, reluctantly trying not to look annoyed. "I don't think we should continue to give the media so much time to speculate. I, too, would hate to be portrayed as a hooker."

"Before the weekend, don't worry." Romanoff looked back at Tony now. "And you. Whatever made you let yourself go the way you did in New York - get your shit together. I didn't think working with you would be so exhausting. Feels like every week there's a new crisis for S.H.I.E.L.D. to deal with."

Tony shrugged and hid his feelings. He was relieved when Romanoff left.

Tony took a deep breath. He was home again. Finally. That disgusting hospital air, the constant explanations he had to give, the talk with the psychiatrist, a worried Pepper, a strange Romanoff. It was all too much.

Now Pepper was still there. Obviously she was trying to hide some anger. Tony thought about asking her about it, but he didn't have the energy to deal with it right now. And as much as he wanted to be near her, what he needed right now was to get some rest. Pepper seemed to think the same. She stood hesitantly next to him, her own car keys in her hand, ready to leave.

"Don't worry, I won't jump off the balcony," Tony said with a grin and an attempt at nonchalance.

Pepper nodded sternly. "I know. I'll pick you up tomorrow at nine. We'll go to the office."

"What?!" Tony protested, grimacing.

"A little work will do you good. And there's really a lot to do now. All the meetings in New York fell through, we have to reschedule. Besides - the shorter your absence from the business, the sooner the negative headlines will stop."

"Yeah, yeah, all right," Tony muttered.

Pepper gave him a searching look. "Will you be all right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Pepper hesitated. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Um... Yes."

"Well, then. Nine o'clock," she said. "And Tony, I mean nine."

"Got it, boss."

"Good..."

Pepper turned and headed for the front door.

"Pepper?" Tony called after her.

"Yeah?"

"Have a good night."

"...You too."

The door closed behind her.

Tony was alone.

Pepper came through the front door. It was ten to nine; he better be ready. There was a lot to do today.

"Tony, where are you?"

He was probably still in the bathroom, perfecting his hairstyle. Pepper knocked timidly on the bathroom door. "Are you in there?"

She got no answer. Frowning, she turned around. He better not be sleeping! She'd told him she'd pick him up on time, hadn't she?

"Jarvis!" she called as she marched to the bedroom. "Where is he?"

"In the bathroom, Miss Potts," Jarvis replied immediately. "The one you just knocked on."

Confused, Pepper turned and knocked again - louder this time. Nothing.

"Tony? I'm coming in... okay?"

Still no answer. Slowly and nervously she opened the door.

And yes, there was Tony. No doubt.

He was half kneeling, half lying in front of the toilet, his head resting on the side of the bowl. He was asleep, snoring softly, looking pathetic. Next to him was an empty bottle of gin. At first, Pepper thought she was dreaming. What a picture. He had just been released from the hospital yesterday after suffering from alcohol poisoning - and the first thing he did was to get so drunk again that he spent half the night vomiting? Was this for real? Slowly but surely, enough was enough!

"You've got to be kidding me!" Pepper shouted angrily, looking down at the man in front of her almost in disgust.

Tony woke up with a start. "Wha...? Shit... Pepper?"

"Asshole," Pepper said quietly, even surprised herself by her cold tone.

With a loud bang, she slammed the door behind her and left. If he was so indifferent to the feelings of others, while he went on as before, then she'd do the same from now on.

Yes, he was very important to her. But no, there was a limit. She would get sick if she had to watch this any longer. She couldn't do it anymore. Therefore, there was actually only one way for her to go. She needed to quit... She didn't want to watch him slowly destroy himself! He seemed to have a rope around his neck and was dancing recklessly on the chair below him.

"Pepper! Wait!"

She heard footsteps behind her.

"Pepper! Wait, please! Pepper!"

She didn't stop.