After the helicopter, we went on a plane, back to the States. The land of the free. Finally back home.

We touched down and exited the plane. They wanted to put me on a gurney, but of course I told them to get that thing out of my sight.

Then I saw her: my assistant, Pepper Potts. Bossy. Demanding. But kind and loyal to a fault. Her eyes were red, and she was smiling at me. That smile you didn't see a lot: the smile you wished she would smile at you forever and ever.

Of course, I didn't show my emotions at seeing her again. If one thing I had learned from Ho Yinsen, it was that I had employees, nothing more. I didn't have anyone to return to who wasn't just sticking around because I paid them or because they worked together with me.

I stepped into the car with Pepper and Happy Hogan: my forehead of security. 'Where to, sir?'

'Take us to the hospital please, Happy.' Pepper answered for me. Yep, that's what I had missed. Miss bossy boss assistant.

'No.' I said shortly.

'No? Tony, you have to go the hospital.' Pepper told me softly, turning fully to view me. 'The doctor has to look at you.'

'I don't have to do anything. I've been in captivity for three months. There's two things I want: an American Cheeseburger, and the other...'

'That's enough of that...' Pepper interrupted me, about to say more, but two could play that game and I interrupted her:

'...Is not what you think. I want you to call for a press conference now'

'Call for a press conference? What on earth for?' she asked dubiously.

'Yeah. Hogan drive. Cheeseburger first.'

After getting a cheeseburger, we arrived at SI, where Obie greeted me warmly and did the usual blahblahblah he's back we are happy. Doubt coursed through my mind: was he really happy? Or was I just his business partner, nothing more?

At the press conference, Obie got up on the podium, and started it in a very smart manner: 'Uhhh...' he said, then paused as he looked down at me. I was sitting on the podium. Sue me: I was tired okay.

I solved Obie's problem quickly: 'Hey, would it be alright if everyone sat down? Why don't you sit down? That way, you can see me... And I can... a little less formal and...' I trailed off as everyone sat down, including Obie. You're welcome Obie: I made sure I wasn't weird for sitting down, now the people left standing were weird, not me.

I glanced over at Obie, who was smiling, but I saw beyond the smile: I trick I learned in Afghanistan, look beyond the mask that people put on, and see their true intentions. Look past the obvious, and look for the deeper meaning in things. Yikes, I'm such a philosopher, who knew?!

Obie, was worried, I saw it in his eyes, his forced smile, everything: 'Good to see you.' I whispered to him, eliciting a wider fake smile: he for sure was worried.

I spoke up to the room: 'I never got to say goodbye to my father.' I proclaimed, making the reporters look up: not what they had been expecting me to say. 'There's questions I would have asked him,' I rattled off, 'I would have asked him how he he felt about what this company did. If he was conflicted, ever had doubts.'

I glanced up for a second. Pepper was standing. Of course, she was: she was Pepper Potts. She would always be able to look down on us, because she was so much greater than the masses. Now she could look down on us literally.

Her smile that she had been sporting when she entered had dropped. She was looking at me intently, seriously, and with,... was that hope in her eyes? Sheesh, Afghanistan had changed me: always looking further than the mask. Masks. People always hid behind masks and I had started to hate it. Why not be who you are. Why not be what you see is what you get? Why all the hiding?

Pepper's shoulders rose. 'Or maybe, he was every inch the man we remember from the newsreels.' her shoulders slumped. Disappointment.

I paused for a second, staring at her, then, spoke as if I were talking to her, looking over the reporters, at her. The woman who would never do any harm. The woman who would always be able to pull me out of whatever mess I had formed for myself. I hoped she would help me again, just this once. Solve the mess I had spent 17 years creating.

'I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them.' Obie looked up: wariness. 'And I saw that I had become part of the system that is comfortable with zero accountability.'

'Mr Stark.' Ben, a regular reporter said, drawing my attention.

'Hey Ben.'

'What happened over there?'

I stood up, raised my voice and paced up, further onto the podium: 'I had my eyes opened. I came to realise that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up.' I stood behind the pedestal with the speaker. Obie was looking at me, calculating what I was going to say next. Pepper was also looking intently my way, her lips slightly parted as she always did when anxiously waiting for something to be done or said.

I hoped I would make her proud: just this once.

'And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons,...' At this Obie started to rise but I paid him no heed, 'manufacturing division of Stark International.' Shouts filled the room as Obie guided me to the side. I wasn't done though.

I stole a quick glance at Pepper. Her mouth was hanging open. Her eyes were wide. I looked at them. Blue eyes, orange hair. Proud eyes. She was proud. I had made her proud - that was a first. In all fairness proabably also a last.

Obie tried to pull me away, drown out my voice with his own, but I persisted: '...until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be. What direction it should take, one that I'm comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country, as well.' I stepped away and Obie took over, trying to rectify my "mistake".

He could try. I wouldn't budge. I was the great Tony Stark. I budged for nothing and no one - except to Pepper occasionally - and I would do what was right. No one would be able to stop me.

Okay, Peter here: he's a total simp. For someone complaining about masks: he put one on for ages until finally admitting he liked her. So, he's a simp and a loser. :) Oh yeah: fun fact. Everyone thought he had gone raving mad, even at my school. My friend Ned surmised that he had a concussion. MJ theorised he was possessed. MJ is weird like that and also funny. She's like Ant-Man, but then the murderous and female version of him. Very murderous version. I myself did not have a lot of theories: I was too busy trying to ace my chemistry test.

A/N from the Author: A warning beforehand, I will go radio silent from Monday onwards for about two weeks give or take since I am going on a roadtrip with no wifi, just thought I might give u guys a headsup.