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He still wakes up screaming.
Or worse, crying.
He no longer dreams about falling past impossibly bright stars. Now his nightmares wear Pepper's face. She looks at him with wide eyes, all pleading and panic, arms desperately outstretched.
I'll catch you he promises, but it's a lie. She lets go and he reaches for her--
and she's gone.
That's usually when he wakes up, struggling to breathe. Everything is wrong because there's no blue glow and he can't breathe and his hand feels skin and the arc reactor is gone and the dark whistles in his ears and he let Pepper fall, he let her fall and--
"I've got you."
Pepper's voice cuts through the dark, calm and sure, and her arm is across his chest. She covers his empty, trembling hand with her own. She wraps her fingers around his and gently pulls his hand to her throat and he feels a--a chain.
And just like that, his brain stops howling. His lungs unlock. He grasps Pepper's hand harder because she's right here. She's alive. She's safe. She's got him, all right. She saved him long before he got anywhere near that cave in Afghanistan It just took him a while to figure it out. Even geniuses can be slow on the uptake.
"Yeah," he whispers, and he's pretty fucking proud he keeps his voice steady. "I know."
* * *
It's weird living in the old New York mansion. He can't remember the last time he was here. Sometime in his mid-thirties maybe. Tony's working on repairing Dummy when the screwdriver slips and opens a long gouge down his forearm. Blood wells, dark drops instantly dot the floor.
"Well," Tony says with a sigh. "Shit."
He grabs for a rag and presses it to the jagged gash. Upstairs the doorbell rings and his hands go sweaty, his heart thunders. His mouth goes dry and the floor tilts. He finds himself on his ass, his back against Dummy's base. He tries to tell himself this is bullshit, that nobody's here to get him (or Pepper), he doesn't need a suit (why had he blown them all up for Christ's sake), he's Tony Goddamn Stark, he's--
afraid.
"Sir?" JARVIS says, concern in his voice. "You have injured yourself. And your heart rate is elevated. Shall I alert Ms. Potts?"
Tony ignores the AI, closes his eyes, counts to ten. He needs to fix this. Fix all this...this feeling. Fix himself. He's the mechanic, isn't he? He pictures Harley's smart-ass face, the kid's stupid potato gun and thinks we're connected. Yeah, it's bullshit and right now Harley is down in Tennessee, hopefully sticking home-made stink bombs into bullies' lockers and giving his sister grief over her stupid Dora watch.
But the thought of the kid's mug makes him think about robots. Then again, most things make him think about robots, since they're generally about 700% cooler than actual people.
"Sir? Sir?" JARVIS sounds like he's getting his wires in a bunch.
After all, robots hardly ever kidnap his girl or blow up his house. Although right now, JARVIS kind of sounds like he wants to.
"JARVIS, calm your tits. I'm fine. Just--just tell me who's here."
"I lack the specific anatomy sir, but I shall endeavor to try," the AI says in a tone that indicates he's not going to try at all. "And Doctor Banner is on his way downstairs."
Sure enough, there are footsteps overhead.
It's times like this Tony misses his lab (and house) back in Malibu where he could keep everyone the hell out of his space. He's going to have to work on remodeling the basement as soon as Dummy's fixed. And Mark 43 is finished. And he's figured out how to make Mark 44 heat resistant.
The armor brings Tony back to robots and he's thinking about making Harley something cool when the footsteps reach the stairs. He could make a Dummy Jr. to carry the kid's potato gun around the garage or something. Tony reaches behind him and pats Dummy's arm.
"What's your take on siblings, little buddy?"
Feet come into view, and then brown fur. Bruce's voice calls "Tony?" But all Tony sees is yeti.
"What exactly," Tony demands, pointing a bloody rag imperiously, "is that?"
Banner wrestles a giant teddy bear down the last few it steps. He lets go and the thing promptly rolls onto its side and stares across the room at Tony with creepy marble eyes.
"Huh," Tony says, staring. "I'm gonna go with 'no thanks.'" He pushes himself awkwardly to his feet.
"What?" Banner smiles, all innocence. "Pepper said you had a thing for idiotically huge stuffed animals." The smile fades. "Tony, why are you bleeding?"
Tony blinks, looks down at the red rag in his hand. Blood is still dripping down his arm. Oh yeah, that's why it hurts. "My screwdriver slipped."
Banner smirks. "Trying to tighten a few of your loose screws?"
Tony rolls his eyes loud enough for Pepper to hear upstairs. "Not funny, Doc." He reconsiders. "Fine. One point to Hufflepuff, and that's being generous."
Bruce ignores Tony's blather and pushes his friend toward a sleek leather couch that looks as out of place in the huge basement as the giant teddy bear.
Tony sits.
Bruce goes down on one knee and slides his backpack off his shoulder. "Okay, this right here?" He unzips the pack and pulls out a first aid kit. "This is the kind of doctor I am. Not the tell-me-about-evil-botanists-and-exploding-people-and-it's-all-my-fault kind."
Tony holds up a finger. "One, she wasn't a botanist." He holds up a second finger and waggles his eyebrows. "And I thought you fell asleep during that whole spiel."
"I'm a light sleeper," Bruce says, frowning down at the wound while he pulls out alcohol swabs and a roll of gauze. "This is going to need stitches." He gives Tony a look. "What exactly were you trying to do with the screwdriver?"
Tony nods toward Dummy. "Just trying to fix my baby."
Bruce tears open an alcohol swab and regards Tony over the top of his glasses frames. "Just so I'm clear, you're a grown man who is referring to a broken robot as an infant?"
"Pay no attention to the man behind the glasses," Tony says loudly in Dummy's direction. "He didn't mean it." Tony pokes Bruce's chest. "Besides, you're the one who brought the stuffed animal for nap time."
"Not for nap time," Bruce says, cleaning the wound while Tony grimaces. "That's Doctor Bear. He's for talk time."
Tony stares at Bruce. "You brought me a bear to talk to."
Banner nods. "Yes."
"So I can pour out all my emo feelings to...an inanimate object."
Banner glances at the myriad computers and machinery clustered around them. "You should feel right at home."
Tony goes silent for a minute. He watches as Bruce applies a second alcohol swab. Finally, he addresses the top of Banner's head.
"I'm sorry I came to your office and...told you all that stuff."
Banner looks up, brows knitting. "Look, you're grandiose and yet somehow, strangely boring, but --"
"The arc reactor is gone," Tony blurts as Bruce presses a gauze pad to the wound.
Bruce's smile is gentle as he meets Tony's gaze. "I noticed. The lack of constant high beam was a dead giveaway." He rolls his eyes. "Plus, you told me."
Tony's jaw clenches and he stares blindly toward the bear. "It's just...we were, you know, TPBs together."
Banner's eyebrows launch upward. "I hesitate to ask, but what does 'TPB' mean?"
"Terrible Privilege Buddies."
Banner's shoulders sag. He puts a hand to his forehead. "Of course it does."
"But now it's a one-man club. And I just want you to know, that, uh, I'm going to do everything I can to help you. If I can figure out the Extremis thing, or--"
"Tony," Bruce says, cutting his friend off. "Once I get your arm fixed up I'm going to take you in for a PET scan."
Tony stares blankly at Banner. "I don't need a PET scan for a minor stab wound."
"You're right. But you've clearly suffered a traumatic brain injury because you are talking nonsense." Banner's voice rises on the last word.
Bruce rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms. He stares at Tony for a long moment, then points at the gauze on Tony's arm.
"Put pressure on that."
Tony does, looking away again.
"Okay, listen up, Stark. The only terrible privileged I have is you showing up at my office unannounced. Does turning into the Jolly Green Giant suck? Of course it does. Do I wish I could get rid of him?" Bruce stands and begins pacing. "Hell yes. But I have something I didn't have before. Something that makes my life a little more bearable...and makes me feel a little less low."
Tony brightens. "Are you in touch with your old girlfriend? I have to say, she was pretty hot."
"Jesus Christ, Tony, I'm talking about you. Because you are my friend. And it's been a long time since I've had one of those."
Tony blinks a few times. "Yeah, but friends should--"
Bruce waves his arms and glares. "Are you purposely trying to make me angry?"
"No, but I'm used to having all my shit destroyed, so go for it."
Banner sighs. "For someone with such a raging ego, how can you also feel guilty over things that are clearly not your fault?"
Tony lifts one shoulder. "It's a gift."
"As your friend, I'm glad you got rid of the reactor, Tony. I want you to be healthy. And happy. So try not to be so goddamn stupid, okay?"
Tony purses his lips, sniffs. "I'll see what I can do." He gives Bruce a side-long glance. "I know you're not a therapist, but I do feel better after talking to you."
"That's because keeping your feelings bottled up is stupid. And I what did I just say about being stupid? God, you're sad."
"I just said I felt better. You fall asleep again?"
"i didn't mean depressed sad. I meant sad, as in 'asshole.'"
"You, sir, are hurtful," Tony declares primly, his expression veering precariously toward a pout.
"No," Bruce corrects and pulls a needle and length of thread from the kit. "This is hurtful."
* * *
The next afternoon Tony is back in the basement. There are seven stitches beneath the layer of gauze wrapped around his arm. The floor around him is littered with various tools, three power drills, a soldering iron, and the smoldering remains of what had once been a car battery. The screwdriver from the previous day's debacle is noticeably absent. After hearing what happened Pepper threw the damn thing away. Which is annoying really, because it was part of a pretty sweet set.
"Okay," Tony says, holding his hands out, "come to Daddy."
A few feet away, Dummy whirs.
"You can do it," Tony encourages.
"Don't just sit there like a lump," JARVIS says, disapproval in every syllable. "Sir called for you."
Dummy whirs a little louder, then rolls haltingly toward Tony. Tony's smiling so wide his face hurts. He blinks, rubs his left eye. Huh. All this dust is making his eyes water.
Tony is wearing a polka-dot party hat. So is Dummy. Pepper steps forward, her own hat canted slightly, and hangs a sign around the robot's neck. It reads: welcome home.
Great. Now there's something in his other eye.
* * *
"Come on, Boss," Happy whines from the easy chair Tony's got him wedged into.
"Be quiet," Tony says. "Just sit there and recuperate." He claps his hands. "Dummy? More tea for Happy."
Dummy obediently rolls toward Happy, a silver tea set precariously balanced on a tray clasped in his grip.
"JARVIS, start season 3, would you?"
Immediately, the instrumental theme song from the series Downton Abbey fills the makeshift lab.
"Pour yourself a cup of tea and watch the British people," Tony commands.
"It's a called a 'cuppa,'" Happy says helpfully, dutifully pouring. "But if I gotta rest, you should too. I'm not the one who just had heart surgery."
"That's true," Tony says, eyes sliding away from Happy's scarred face. "And believe me, it was some surgery. The doc said my heart grew three sizes since I gave Christmas back to Whoville."
"Boss, you know what happened to me wasn't your fault," Happy says quietly, staring into his tea cup.
Tony swallows. He opens his mouth, but the words are stuck in his throat. He breathes in through his nose, exhales. "I'm the one that told you to follow that guy. I'm the reason you were there. I'm the reason you almost--" Tony stops abruptly, his back to Happy, fists clenched at his sides.
"Come on," Happy tells his boss, irritated. "You know I'd have followed that asshole anyhow. We both look out for Pepper, you know? I'm your bodyguard, Tony. It's my job to put myself in danger. You know I'd do anything for you and Pep."
"Well maybe you have a stupid job," Tony snaps, turning to Happy, his face red.
"Maybe," Happy agrees, and takes a sip from the cup. "My boss is sure acting stupid."
Tony shakes his head, miserable. His eyes are too bright. "I'm really sorry." He bows his head. "I keep putting the people I love in danger and I'm not--"
"Hey boss?"
Tony lifts his head, runs a hand over his stubbled chin. "What?"
"Shut up."
Tony's mouth drops open in shock.
"I figure almost dying gives me a pass to say that just this once. And since you got a new extra-large heart you gotta let me."
They stare at each other.
"Quit standing there feeling sorry for yourself and do something that will really help me feel better."
Tony immediately takes a step toward Happy. "Name it."
Happy points to the couch. "Sit there and watch the show with me."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
Tony goes to the couch and sits. He stares at the plasma screen as a woman with red frizzy hair yells to some girl in an old fashioned kitchen.
"Why is Mrs. Weasley yelling at that muggle?" Tony asks.
Happy sips more tea, pointedly ignoring Tony.
Tony points to a stair case. "That Potter kid's under there, right?"
"Shut up, Tony."
"Jeez. How long does your pass last, anyway?"
Happy sighs, but he's smiling as he watches the screen.
An elderly woman in a regal dress and ornate hat appears.
Tony grins. "Whoa, look at Professor McGonnegal's fancy duds."
When Pepper comes downstairs an hour later, Happy is engrossed in another episode and Tony is alternating his time between listening to the spunky brunette and blonde dude banter, and typing notes for a heat resistant suit. She puts a hand on his shoulder and plants a kiss on the top his head. Tony tilts his chin to look up at her and winks.
"Want to see former Prime Minister Harriet Jones and Professor McGonnegal bitch at each other while they drink Earl Grey?"
Across from them, Happy says cheerfully: "Shut up, Boss."
"Ooh," Pepper smirks, "I like his new vocabulary."
"Yup. I figured you would. It's getting a little dull for me though. Maybe I'll invest in one of those word-a-day calendars, leave it in his car."
Pepper arranges herself beside Tony, rests her head on his shoulder. Now he kisses the top of her head. The red heart and silver chain around her neck shine in the light from the screen.
I'm safe. Tony thinks. Here, with the people he loves most, his demons are excised. If people make their own demons, they can make their own heroes. He knows he is not the hero in this room. Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan are. Armor and IQ don't make heroes. But maybe love does...at least in part. And the ability to forgive yourself. The desire to be better person. To try. To strive. To accomplish.
And if there's one thing Tony Stark can do, it's get shit done. He's no Captain America, but he's going to keep the world safe. He's going to keep Pepper safe. He'll build her a suit. And Happy too. He'll build whatever it takes. He's got JARVIS and Dummy, and maybe sometime soon, Dummy Jr. After failing Pepper and Happy, and to some extent Rebecca, he's no longer sure he deserves a place in the Avengers Initiative.
He doesn't know what kind of hero he is, but he knows what kind of man he is.
A man who never stops trying.
He's got this.