Chapter Text
The world saw the flashy suits, the expensive sunglasses, the neatly trimmed goatee, the infuriating smirk. They saw him blow off meetings, ignore reporters, charm women and men just as quickly as he insulted them.
They saw what he wanted them to see.
They saw him disappear.
When he returned from his time in the desert, Tony didn't care anymore about what they saw. He didn't care about the gambling or the whiskey or the women. Instead, he had the armor.
Or did the armor have him?
Impossible for him to say. All he knew was that the gleam of light off its subtle curves, the sheen of polished metal, the weight and the caress of it around him, seemed more appealing than the touch of any woman, more interesting than any casino, more fascinating than the reflection through an amber shot glass.
The weight of the reactor over his heart reminded him constantly of what he had lost and what he had gained - what he had died to learn. What others had died for him to learn.
He swore he would never let that happen again.
No one saw him break down. No one saw him hiding in the shadows of his own lab, hiding from the faces staring at him from the darkened corners, from the voices accusing him from inside his own head. No one saw his hands, white-knuckled around a dirty wrench. No one saw the tears tracing through the oil streaked across his face. No one heard the glass breaking as he threw the wrench, needle-sharp splinters pricking his face and arms, the blood standing out like a disease.
The world saw Tony Stark. The world saw Iron Man.
They saw a hero.
Tony saw himself.
He hoped no one else ever did.