Work Text:
Tony skips the memorial service. He just…can’t. He’ll have to talk to Rhodey’s family at some point, beyond just cutting a check for everything - Rhodey isn’t poor by any means but his family isn’t rich, and an event that size is far more expensive than they can reasonably cover.
And it’s Tony’s fault that it’s happening.
Objectively, Tony knows this isn’t true. Carol Danvers was the one who planned the mission. Carol was the one who picked the team. Hell, Rhodey was the one who said yes to joining it…but Rhodey was only War Machine because of Tony. Because Tony needed a friend so desperately, and Rhodey was there for him. And Tony wouldn’t let him go after that.
Without Tony, Jim Rhodes would just be another Marine pilot. A damned good one, but he would be flying planes, not the War Machine armor. He wouldn’t be tasked with meeting world-ending threats or super villains like Thanos.
Tony chokes back a sob - there’s no one to hear him, he’s alone in the lab, but he can’t quite let himself go yet.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Tony. It isn’t your fault.”
Tony’s head snaps up at the voice. “Rhodey?”
The Jim Rhodes standing in front of him has to be a ghost. Or a hallucination. The real Jim Rhodes is laid to rest in Arlington, in a private funeral for just his family. Tony skipped that one, too.
“You’re looking pretty rough, Tony,” not-Rhodey comments.
“You’re looking pretty alive for someone who was murdered by Thanos,” Tony replies, pushing himself up from the floor.
Rhodey shakes his head sadly. “You know I’m not really here.”
The dull pain that’s surrounded Tony’s chest since he learned of Rhodey’s death clenches and Tony gasps for breath. Of course, Rhodey isn’t here. Of course, Tony would conjure a ghost to torture himself. Because of course, Tony can’t be allowed to sit in his grief, alone.
“You should be, though,” Tony tells him. “You should be here, and you’re not. You’re-” his voice catches.
Rhodey smiles, but his eyes are sad, and Tony wants to scream.
“What were you even doing there? You’re not an Ultimate! What, your girlfriend says ‘hey honey, let’s go ambush Thanos based on this college kid’s bad dream,’ and you decided, ‘sounds great, let me grab my suit?’ You know how little we understand about that kid’s powers, you had the same reservations I did, and you still went along with that. And what did it get you?” Tony realizes his hands are clenched into fists. He shakes them loose. “Carol is just so sure about that kid, she’s willing to lock people up, to hurt them, to get you killed, and now she’s telling the whole damn world about it, and what if she’s wrong?”
“Tony…you know that’s not how it went,” Rhodey says, shaking his head again.
“Actually, I don’t know how it went, because I wasn’t there. I was here, getting ambushed by the Board, trying to…well. It doesn’t matter.” He runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the back of his head. “I wish you were here, Rhodey. No,” he admonishes, “I don’t mean ghost-you, I mean you, my best friend. There’s so much happening…and I could use someone to talk to.”
Rhodey arches an eyebrow. “You have FRIDAY.”
“Nope, I made her, she doesn’t have ideas that aren’t my ideas.” Tony waves his hand in dismissal.
“I’m here right now. Or do I fall under the same category?”
Tony stills, considering. “Are you in my head? Or are you a ghost?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Rhodey counters.
Does he? Tony feels haunted, certainly, by the ghosts of his past. But those are memories, wisps of the past that only come out to taunt him. They aren’t standing in his lab, trying to have a conversation with him.
“I’m not sure,” he admits. “Not like this, anyway.”
Rhodey nods and leans against the workbench. “How about we treat this like I’m really here, and you get whatever is weighing on you off your chest.”
Tony barks something between a laugh and a sob. “That’s not possible, and you know it. But okay, we’ll go with this for now.” He wipes a hand across his face, frowning when it comes away wet. He knows he’s been crying, but this is… “How rough do I look, exactly?”
“Not as bad as the times I’ve found you like this with a bottle. But close.”
Tony snorts.
“Hey, you asked,” Rhodey tells him.
“Yeah, I did.”
Tony tilts his head back, glaring up at the ceiling. It’s too far away to pick out any details, but he knows what it looks like. He designed this workshop, after all. It’s supposed to be his refuge, his sanctuary. Today, it just feels empty.
“If I’d known about the mission, I could have gone with you,” Tony murmurs. “Or, better yet, talked you out of it.”
Rhodey turns to sit on the edge of the workstation. “You know that wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“Well, it should have! Or at least, if I’d been there, I could have-”
“You could have what, Tony? Stopped Thanos? Taken the hit for me? Then where would we be?”
Tony slumps in his chair again. “I don’t know. But I feel like I should have, if you couldn’t be talked out of going in the first place.”
Rhodey laughs, a hollow sound. “Always gotta be the self-sacrificing type. Maybe I’m the same way, did you ever think of that?”
“No. No, I don’t think so.” Tony pushes himself to stand, angry now. “You can’t be. Not just because that’s my job, but because you have too many people who love you. You have too many people who miss you. And you know it, so no, you don’t get to be the self-sacrificing type. Leave that for the people no one will miss.”
Rhodey gazes at him, eyes full of sadness. “You think you wouldn’t be missed, Tony?”
Tony slumps back into his chair. When he answers, it’s barely a whisper. “Not like you.”
“Oh, Tony.”
Whatever attempts at reassurance or pity Rhodey might offer him are more than Tony wants to hear right now. He shakes his head slowly, and for once Rhodey doesn’t push. “It’s always the people close to me, who get hurt. Who wind up dying. And it’s because of me. You know it’s true,” he points at Rhodey, stopping the objection he sees forming. “Rumiko died in my arms, she’d still be alive and safe and happy if I didn’t love her. And Happy? If he’d just stuck to being an employee, if he hadn’t become my friend, if he hadn’t trusted me so damn much…
“If I’d died in Afghanistan, all of you would still be alive. None of you would ever have met me, I’d just be a brief mention on CNN and maybe an article in the Times and you wouldn’t even have had to grieve, because I’d just be a name to you. I wouldn’t have been your friend.” Tony looks down at his hands. They’re shaking.
“And our lives would be so much poorer for that,” Rhodey says softly. “I would never have become War Machine. I’d never have met Carol. But, more than that, I wouldn’t have had you as my best friend. And, Tony? That’s more important to me than anything.”
The shakiness gives way to a molten wave of rage, and Tony finds himself standing, stalking around the lab, looking for something to throw, to break, anything to channel his anger before he succumbs to the anguish again. Finding nothing that isn’t bolted to the ground, he starts screaming instead.
“You’re still dead, Rhodey! I don’t have my best friend anymore! There’s five thousand people at a church in Philadelphia right now, mourning because they don’t have you anymore, and Carol is out there acting like your death couldn’t have been prevented, and she’s going to use a fucking kid whose powers we don’t understand, to act as judge, jury, and executioner, and she’s telling the world about this and pretending that it’s what you would’ve wanted and that you’re a hero because of how you died instead of how you lived and I- I can’t- I-” His breath comes in sharp hiccups, each one a tiny stab to his chest, and he’s crying again, he’s sure of it even before he feels the hot trails down his face.
Tony forces himself to take deep, even breaths, closing his eyes and counting to himself as his lungs fill and expel, listening to his heartbeat slow to normal. When he opens his eyes, Rhodey is smiling softly at him.
“You’ll be okay, Tony,” he says.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“I am,” Rhodey tells him. At Tony’s doubtful look, he pushes. “I didn’t say right now, but you’ll get there. You always do.”
Tony studies him, looking for some sign of doubt, something that might belie Rhodey’s words. Finding nothing but sincerity, Tony admits to himself that this apparition of his best friend might not be inside his head after all. He knows himself well enough that a hallucination would show him all his own doubts and fears, and wouldn’t hold back on the horror.
“What do I do now, Rhodey?”
Rhodey’s eyebrow lifts. “About which problem?”
“Carol’s wrong.” Tony knows this, he knows this to his core.
“She is,” Rhodey agrees quietly.
“What do I do? How do I convince her to stop? Why can’t I convince her?”
Rhodey sighs. “Because Carol believes she’s doing the right thing. Just like you.”
Tony shakes his head. “No. No, I doubt myself all the time.”
“That’s not what I mean, Tony.” Rhodey lifts his hands, lets them fall again. “I wish I could tell you what to do. But I do believe, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that you will get it right.”
Hope and doubt war with each other in Tony’s heart. “How can you be sure?”
“Because,” Rhodey tells him, an easy smile spreading across his face, “you’re my best friend. I love you, Tony.”
Tony finds himself smiling even as the tears start to fall again. “I love you, too.”
He keeps his eyes on Rhodey as long as he can, knowing that once he blinks, his friend will be gone. His vision blurs with the tears that form, and he fights as long as he can before he has to clear his eyes.
In the space of a heartbeat, Tony is alone in his lab.
He lets himself fall into his chair, staring at his hands. They’re shaking again. Sighing, Tony admits that, despite Rhodey’s assurance, he is not okay. He’s in danger of losing his company, he’s about to go to war with Carol, and he misses his best friend so much he can’t bear to let anyone else see him like this. He needs to call MJ, get that list of who’s tried to call him. He needs to pull a rabbit out of a hat and get the board off his back. He needs to convince Carol to back down, at least long enough so they can understand how Ulysses’ visions work.
Before he can do any of that, he needs to pull himself together enough to leave this lab. Which, Tony acknowledges, is a lot easier said than done. There aren’t many people who will be happy to see him, and most of those are still in Philadelphia. Staying here would be the safer course of action, he reasons, and then shakes himself for the thought. He’s not going to let himself spiral again, Rhodey isn’t here to pick up his pieces anymore. Which means Tony needs to be responsible for himself. He sighs, dragging his hand through his hair. He needs a meeting.