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Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) features a pattern of unreasonable thoughts and fears (obsessions) that lead you to do repetitive behaviors (compulsions). These obsessions and compulsions interfere with daily activities and cause significant distress.
Tony was aware what he was doing was wrong. He knew he should grow up and get a therapist. Ok, maybe that second thing needed to be amended to just grow up. Yeah, that could work, growing up was okay. He didn’t need a therapist he was fine really. Besides his father wouldn’t approve of the therapist and might make a return from the grave for a speech about how “Stark men deal with things themselves” and he really wasn’t looking forward to a speech from a corpse.
As it stood, right now, he was weaving through the Mojave desert, he realized most people would have flown straight to the fight he was going to. He, however, had decided to fly in a long arching motion, but at a faster speed. Logistically speaking he would get there within the same minute, so there potential problems would be the same when he appeared. There would be no collateral damage beyond that which he could have already not stopped. He was just, taking the long way around, he supposed.
He couldn’t exactly put his finger on when it started (a lie, he could, right after Afghanistan) but he now had a habit of never going, to quote Pepper “according to plan.” Which really was a bit absurd. Why did plans have to go accordingly? Maybe he needed those flowers four streets to the left and down from the gala he was supposed to be attending. He quite liked those flowers, thank you very much. Besides he was only twenty minutes late and considering his new way of doing things that was a blessing.
It started with little things, five minutes here ten minutes there. It wasn’t meant to be a pattern but soon he was professionally avoiding plans. Whenever he stuck to a plan he could feel hundreds of eyes on him and missiles lining up to kill him, kill the ones he loved. Thought they were few he treasured them as much as he could. He couldn’t die on them (though he most likely was going to with the rate of palladium poisoning) all because he followed a plan. He wanted to go out on his own terms.
Which he supposed was a bit odd considering he was doing his best not to get killed by plans. After all everything that happened between him getting in the “fun-vee” and the fight with Stane had been roughly planned out. He had let Obadiah know where he was it had been planned to kill him. He had been on a planned route when he was captured. He had been on a planned night in when his heart had been ripped out. So, no, no more planning.
Pepper, while she was privy to his location ninety-nine percent of the time, didn’t quite seem to agree on the “No Plans” policy. Something about a company to run and responsibility and he had stopped truly listening. She had started talking stocks and he already knew she was going on a long rant. He loved his company he really did but sometimes he just didn’t care.
Which brought him to flying through the mojave. So far, being Ironman let him give out plenty of excuses. It let him fly away from his problems based on the fact that “someone needing saving” which, for the most part, was true. Someone did always seem to need saving despite his best efforts. Which, at this point, was just earning him more credibility under the “superhero” moniker.
Putting a little more effort into flying he blasted through the last of the desert. JARVIS carefully reminded him of the suits limitations but he ignored them and went to the fight. Maybe a fight could take his mind off the fact that something might be wrong with him.
When he hit the five month mark and he was still assuaging himself through avoiding plans. It was normal at this point. He had even developed an algorithm that let him avoid plans. He hated the way that even then people could track him so he put his lines of code behind the highest walls. He even walked in odd patterns now and refused tours of houses.
When he couldn’t get out of these things (like the time that Pepper put a vice grip on his arm and a hand over his mouth) he was constantly aware of what he was doing. His thoughts would go in circles because he was being watched and they were all going to die .
His phone would constantly be held in his hand and he would start checking every camera in the area he was before moving out. Then he would use JARVIS (who had learned to stop arguing if it meant Tony would calm down somewhat) to search through all known terrorist organizations for their locations even some unknown ones to the government. In quick succession he would go back to checking all security cameras in a short radius for them. Rarely, if ever did he find someone near him but that would only make it worse.
Next was checking how many missiles they had a hold of and if they had any prepping for launch. He would then use the government’s tracking of launches before circling back to cameras within a certain radius
He missed tours when he did this but he had to make sure everyone was safe. No one else would die for him. He had stopped selling weapons to stop other people from being hurt but other companies had just picked up his slack. He couldn’t stand the thought of innocent people dying because of him.
Normally right as he would calm down something would happen and he would start looking again. He could’ve have missed something the first, second, and third times. He could not afford to miss something with people’s lives on the line.
Most people assumed he was on his phone all the time for fun. No matter where he went if people knew he was there he was constantly checking these things. He could give a speech and talk to some people but eventually the thoughts would begin to creep in and he would be on his phone again. JARVIS had a special earpiece he was programmed into when he couldn’t get to his phone. All the rich snobs assumed he was just being his eccentric self when he had it in.
He was infinitely thankful for JARVIS because most public appearances had him wanting to run and scream because they would know where he was. JARVIS though, ever the faithful companion, always red him out the requested things on a loop and seemed to be better at guessing for his next step every time.
(Never mind the fact that when he wasn't checking these things he was always one step from a panic attack. He hated the way the panic would claw trhough his mind and attack his sense. The way it would make him check over his shoulder obsessively and consume his mind. He had to check these things he had to.)