Chapter Text
Yet not me, after all—let none be content with me,
I myself seek a man better than I am
Walt Whitman, "So Long!"
With the damage he took from fighting the Mandarin's death squad, Tony doesn't have enough energy to fly home, so he detours to Milan on his way home to lick his wounds and power up the Mark IV armor. He's still not used to how light the suit is, especially in its pre-polarized form, but it's saved his life more than once this past week.
He ends up staying at the Milan branch of Stark International longer than he means to.
The Milan branch has a private workspace for Tony already set up, because that's one of his conditions for every branch and factory around the world; even if he rarely visits, he needs to know he has somewhere to work on Iron Man wherever his enemies turn up. A couple of hours should be plenty to power up and get back on his way. He lands as Iron Man a small distance away from the main building, and he uses the cover of the bushes nearby to collapse the Mark IV armor back into the chestplate. Tony uses the small strip of foil that Reed gave him to dress in his suit, and emerges from the bushes as Tony Stark.
He then walks up to the staff entrance and keys in the over-ride code he has that allows him into any of his facilities. The expressions on the guards' faces when he walks in unannounced are hilarious, but Tony doesn't have time to enjoy it. Because apparently Stark International has been under fire of its own. Moments after Tony's appearance, he is greeted with by the Director of his Milan facility in a flurry of angry French. Tony's impressed that she remembered his Italian is terrible. His French is much better, but even at her rapid delivery it takes Tony a few minutes to understand what she's saying.
At first he worries that Michael O'Brien has told the world what he knows, that Tony Stark is Iron Man, but once Tony realizes that's not the case, he focuses harder on what she's saying. When it sinks in, it's because she shoves an Italian newspaper into his hand, and then hovers a reader over it which translates it. Tony vaguely remembers the reports from Milan at how close they were to creating a mobile translator for text. He guesses this is the prototype. He takes both the paper and the reader from her and squints at the headline in disbelief.
It's impossible.
"STARK INTERNATIONAL IN HOSTILE TAKEOVER SHOCKER! STARK TOPPLES IN THE WAKE OF MIDAS INTERNATIONAL!"
There's a massive photograph of Mordecai Midas standing in front of the Stark International Long Island corporate headquarters, a wide smile on his face as workers behind him swap out the Stark for Midas on the main sign.
Tony swears in Italian for her benefit and demands access to a telephone.
Five hours later, Tony slumps over a table, done. His company is still his. He still safely owns over half of the stock. The takeover was a hoax. A lie the entire world was told at the same time.
It's been a few months since Midas tried to steal Stark International—back when it was still Stark Industries—from under his nose: replacing him with a Life Model Decoy, roping his dumb-ass cousin into the scheme. Suddenly all the chaos from the last couple of months makes sense. The sabotage at his factories, the accusation of stolen Aerospace patents, the gossip that he was accepting bribes from officials around the world in return for exclusive rights to his tech. Midas, the whole time. Fabulous. Tony rubs his temples. Midas is probably the one behind his other armors going missing too.
It's easy enough to sort out. Midas' plan seems like he planned on just telling the whole world that Stark International was now Midas International, and relying on enough people just believing it to be the truth to send the whole company into chaos. Their legal hassles with Aerospace were easy to clear up, thank goodness, because Tony's got more than enough evidence of every step of his inventions that Aerospace cannot effectively replicate. The only snag is how Aerospace even managed to get hold of the copy of the final draft, but Tony pushes that to the back-burner for now. The gossip about the bribes has already been shot down.
One press-release, filmed and broadcast worldwide outside of the Milan headquarters, clears up most of the rest of the problem. Tony's actually impressed that Midas has managed to hijack most of the world's media at once.
Tony stays a week to fix his armor, but even he knows he's procrastinating, and he's getting increasingly hysterical calls from Krissy, his PA. He knows exactly what he's doing: avoiding Michael O'Brien.
The initial plan had been to defeat the Mandarin and then immediately return to the mansion. There he would be quickly able to help Michael get used to this brave new world where notoriously selfish playboy Tony Stark is actually the heroic Iron Man.
Life likes to laugh at Tony's plans.
It's been well over a week since Tony sent Michael back to New York in an Avengers quinjet. Tony hopes Michael's okay. He hopes Jarvis understood the brief instructions he left with Michael, for Michael to be afforded every courtesy. Without the quinjet to make his own return journey, Tony has to make his own arrangements. He books Tony Stark a first-class ticket to JFK, hires someone from his usual security detail to take the flight in his place, and then he makes a video call to Jasper Sitwell.
Sitwell's face is frantic when he appears on the screen. "Stark! Boy, am I happy to see you!"
"Sitwell," Tony smiles. "Let's make that the last time I let you run my company in my absence, hm?"
Sitwell flushes. "To be fair, Midas didn't really steal it. He just made everyone think he did?"
"Do me a favor and we'll call it even," Tony says,
"Anything," Sitwell says. Tony's dubious. He thought that SHIELD trained its agents well, but if they go around saying anything to a Stark, then they probably need to rethink their training.
Regardless, just over four hours later Sitwell turns up on the forecourt of the Milan headquarters, and it's Iron Man who soars out of the building to meet him. Tony doesn't want to risk traveling with his suit on a commercial flight, and Sitwell's little jet is twice as fast as flying home in the armor. With the way so many of his armors have gone missing recently, he's probably right to be careful.
Tony's only going through so many mental justifications because he needs his brain to be onboard the working with Sitwell is a good idea train. He's found himself being reluctant to work with Sitwell more than a few times these past few months, and it's probably because he's still a little heart sore about Whitney Frost.
Whitney had been in a love triangle with Iron Man and Sitwell for a while. She chose Sitwell. Tony couldn't pretend it hadn't stung a little, even if his heart has been decidedly elsewhere since that incident.
Tony pushes that thought away. His heart will just have to remain unsatisfied.
Sitwell doesn't appear as hesitant to see Iron Man; he beams as Tony folds himself into the seat in Sitwell's plane.
"Iron Man," Sitwell says. "Boy, am I happy to see you!"
Tony wonders whether that's Sitwell, or whether the phrase is brainwashed into all SHIELD agents to say. "Any news on the missing armors?" he asks.
"Hello, Jasper, it's awfully nice to see you," Sitwell says, but he's already locking the hatch and preparing to take off.
"Armors," Tony prompts again, as Sitwell punches in their flight plan and starts the flight home.
"Still missing."
"Learned anything new about the woman yet?"
Sitwell shakes his head. "Sorry. Still no idea who she is. We scoured the tapes. There was no extra person on Stark International grounds to even account for someone being there."
Tony sighs, the modulator ruffling it into a stuttered squeaking noise. There was definitely a mystery woman in his building. She showed him where his Mark II armor was hidden, so he could put it on to rescue Michael from the Mandarin. He didn't get the sense she was an enemy, but Tony's not feeling entirely on top of any current situation.
He's still raw that he nearly somehow lost his company. He's lucky that he caught it so quickly. He's lucky he had the foresight to log every step of his patent creation. Is he lucky enough that he has a friend watching out for him too?
"I contacted your friend, Detective O'Brien," Sitwell says, when he realizes Iron Man isn't going to talk to him. "It was him that gave us the clue to really get the patent issue sorted out so quickly."
"Yeah?"
"Local PI called Harry Key," Sitwell explains. "O'Brien hired him to find evidence of Tony Stark's guilt in Kevin O'Brien's death; it turns out Key was double-dipping. Midas had hired him to steal the patent."
Tony sits and churns. Michael had hired a PI to investigate Kevin's death. Of course he did. Tony would have done the same, and a million other stupid things besides that too.
"Is he settling into the Avengers mansion okay?" Tony asks.
Sitwell shrugs. "I suppose. We met at a coffee shop. He speaks very highly of you, and your boss."
"Where's Key now?"
"Under watch. I didn't want to arrest him, because then Mr. O'Brien might also get arrested for enabling and facilitating corporate espionage, and I wanted to get your opinion first. Would Stark International want to pursue Mr. Key formally?"
Tony thinks about it. "You'd have to ask my boss to be sure, but I'd doubt it. Detective O'Brien's been through enough."
Mostly thanks to Tony himself.
Sitwell lets Tony sit in silence for most of the rest of the flight and Tony sinks deep in his thoughts in worry.
Michael knows he's Iron Man. And while Tony's hoping that Michael's kept the truth to himself of Iron Man's real identity, Tony can't really blame him if Michael doesn't keep that particular promise. Promises made after you've just been kidnapped by a supervillain probably shouldn't be as watertight as one given after careful thought and consideration.
Tony takes a deep breath as he thinks about what he might be coming back to. If Michael's told even Jarvis that Iron Man and Tony Stark are the same person... well, it's pretty certain Jarvis would tell Captain America, and then all the Avengers would know. Tony's heart condition is well known, although perhaps the Avengers don't know yet that the synthetic heart given to him by the Ultra-Rejuvenator has failed. So maybe if Michael's told them the truth, and the Avengers now know Tony is Iron Man... Maybe they won't immediately eject him from the team?
It's a pipedream, though. Tony prides himself on being a futurist, on being able to predict the way the world is going to change, but he's also a realist. He's put a lot of energy into maintaining the care-free, uncaring persona of Tony Stark. Even though he's spent years now fighting alongside the Avengers, he knows Iron Man's actions are mostly irreconcilable with Tony Stark's public behavior. No. It's a certainty. If the truth comes out, Tony will be alone.
He thinks about Kevin O'Brien and his hands clench into fists. Being alone is the least of what Tony deserves.
Sitwell drops Iron Man off on the roof of the mansion before zipping away with a promise to keep looking for the missing armors. Tony checks no one's watching, ducks down to the back of the building, and collapses the armor back into the chestplate. For a second he wants to just sink into the grass of the back garden, but that's a fleeting impulse.
Tony has to face Michael O'Brien. He can't put it off any longer. He looks up at the mansion fondly. He used to hate coming here, once upon a time. Even when he gave it to the Avengers to freely use, and was forced as Iron Man to routinely visit, the hate lingered. But ever since he faced off against the self-proclaimed Emperor of Titan, Thanos the first, Tony's found himself returning to the mansion more often than ever before, first as Iron Man, but more recently as himself. Usually it's with a legitimate excuse, like fixing up the combat simulation room, or replacing Beast's identicard (more often than not). For the first time, the mansion feels like its finally earned the term home.
It was Drax's telepathy that made him feel like he even needed somewhere safe to be. Tony had never felt anything like it before, not even that time he'd been stolen by the 24th Century for his narrowly-escaped execution. There was something so raw about someone communicating directly to his brain that Tony had sought comfort. Hanging around the mansion as Iron Man, waiting for the Avengers, had felt safe. Even though Tony knew there were beings out there who could bypass all his defenses, he could still feel safe in the mansion walls. Safe enough to fall asleep.
Tony used to stay in his penthouse apartment to keep a more physical space between Tony Stark and Iron Man, maintain his secret with greater ease, but after nearly falling from space to his death a couple of months ago, heights have been somewhat a nebulous experience. The views from the penthouse just make him feel queasy and he can't sleep. The mansion feels a lot safer.
The mansion is safe, and Tony resents that he feels nervous once more to step through his own front door.
He steps through anyway. If he's walking into a trap and the Avengers are waiting there to tell him they know he's Iron Man and that he's unworthy to bear the name Avenger, Tony will just have to take it. He deserves it.
Tony's fears that his secret is out seem to be unwarranted, but he doesn't let himself believe it at first. Jarvis opens the front door to him with a smile, but that doesn't mean anything, really. Jarvis always smiles at him.
"Welcome home, Sir," Jarvis says. He doesn't sound angry or suspicious.
Tony cautiously steps inside, the door shutting behind him, and he lets Jarvis take his coat.
"I'm sorry I'm later than I meant to be," Tony says. "I see the place is still standing."
Jarvis' smile quirks upwards to one side. Oh. There's a story there, more than likely enough.
"I suppose so," Jarvis says. "Your, uh, guest arrived, safe and well."
Tony tenses and tries not to let it show too much on his face. "It wasn't planned, but I'm glad that's the case. Detective O'Brien has had, uh—a rather trying time recently."
"As have you, according to the papers," Jarvis says and nods at Tony's rueful smile. "I installed Mr. O'Brien in Bedroom 5. I presumed that's what you wanted."
Tony pats Jarvis on the back companionably, smiling at his thoughtfulness. "A mind reader as always, Mr. Jarvis."
"A gift—given our current guests—I'm almost glad I don't possess," Jarvis says. At Tony's questioning look, Jarvis full-body shudders. "Mr. McCoy's popularity with the ladies at the moment has been– formidable."
"Oh," Tony says. He thinks about it. "Is that why I found a bra in the fridge a couple of weeks ago?"
"Be glad," Jarvis says in a low tone, "that is all you found. Some things cannot be unseen."
Tony winces in commiseration. So far his secret seems safe. "Is Mr. O'Brien in at the moment?"
"He hasn't left his room since he arrived, but the once to visit your SHIELD friend," Jarvis says. "I've been delivering him regular meals, and I had some of his possessions retrieved from his apartment."
"I should have let him know he could have free run of the place. My bad. Then again, maybe it's better that I formally introduce him to the Avengers." Tony pauses guiltily. "And make sure they're okay with a civilian guest on the premises."
"Would you like me to see if the Avengers on the premises at the moment are ready to meet him? Or–" and Jarvis eyes Tony with a suddenly keen eye, "–perhaps you should rest first? Sir?"
Tony shakes his head, even though Jarvis looks supremely disappointed in him. "I'm going to speak to our guest. If you could persuade any Avengers around that their benefactor wouldn't mind a quick word with them, only if it's not too inconvenient...?"
"Captain America is already taking a repast in the kitchen with some of the others," Jarvis says. "I'm sure I can ask them to linger a little after finishing their meals."
"Thank you, Jarvis."
"It's my job, Sir. You don't have to thank me," Jarvis says.
Tony eyeballs Jarvis. "Jarvis," he says, heavily. "For everything you do, yes. Yes, I do."
Jarvis ducks his head, hiding a pleased smile, before hurrying away, knowing Tony likes to be left alone.
Tony heads straight up the main stairs and down the hallway to his personal set of rooms. He needs to face Michael, but he needs to wash and dress in clothes that don't smell like smoke and sweat. Jarvis was too polite to say something, of course. Even though Michael says he's forgiven Tony for his part in Kevin's death, it has been a long time since Tony's seen him. Michael's had as much time to think as Tony has. More, even, because Michael hasn't had to waste time fighting Frankenstein's Monster. Tony's life is a little bit weirder than he ever imagined it turning out.
He steels himself and moves out onto the main hallway. He has to circle the whole hallway to get to Bedroom 5. It's right by the main elevator, and it's a small corner room, but it has its own bathroom, and a decent view of New York. It's actually bigger than Tony's own bedroom, but Tony has three rooms on the second floor. His office and workshop are larger than his personal chambers, but Tony prefers that. He lives to work, not to sleep. He's exhausted, though, and he thinks longingly for a moment of the plush bed waiting for him in there, which he rarely uses of late, but which Jarvis maintains with clean sheets, airing out the room so it's ready whenever Tony needs it.
Tony forces himself to knock on the door to Bedroom 5 before he gives in to the urge to flee back to his room to try and sleep for a week.
Michael's voice, the soft Irish tone still clear even though the door muffles the sound, breaks through Tony's bed musing. "Come in," he says.
Tony pushes open the door and peers in. Obviously expecting Jarvis, Michael's sitting on a chair that normally sits by the bed. He's pulled it up alongside a round table that's covered in various pieces of paperwork. When Michael sees that it isn't Jarvis, he straightens immediately, and Tony feels suddenly cold. Because when Michael's dark eyes lock onto him, Tony sees Kevin, in the flash of his expression and the way Michael's hair lies on his forehead as he rises to his feet. Tony misses his friend. It's an ache like a wound that can't heal. It's another scar for Tony to carry until the day he dies.
"I'm sorry I've left you waiting here so long," Tony says. Every word feels awkward in his mouth. Michael spent so long blaming Tony and Iron Man for Kevin's death, and although Michael knows every truth now—that Tony didn't actively kill his brother and cover it up, and that Tony and Iron Man are the same man—Tony doesn't believe that he deserves Michael's forgiveness.
"It's a kindness that you've put me up," Michael says. He stands up straight and looks Tony in the eye. "And the time was a blessing. I've been able to think about things. What happened."
Tony swallows and turns briefly to shut the door. If everything is at it appears and Michael hasn't spilled his secret, this is probably not a conversation Tony wants overheard. Tony thinks he's already predicted what Michael is going to say. He's got the same streak of justice in him that Kevin did. He'll want Tony to fix the Guardsman armor, so he can continue Kevin's legacy. "I presume you have a request?"
Michael jerks his head in a nod and squares his shoulders. He doesn't look away from Tony. "First, I wanted to be real clear. Kevin's death wasn't your fault."
Oh. Well. That's not exactly what Tony was expecting. Tony's obvious surprise seems to please Michael.
"I'm sure that might be what you think, Detective–"
"Just Michael. I'm on leave from the force. Personal issues, yeah?"
"Understandable." Tony hesitates. "I can see why you're trying to be kind. I didn't intend to kill your brother. Michael." Even Michael's name is hard to force out, and Michael's alive. Kevin's dead. Kevin's never coming back. Tony swallows hard, his throat dry. "I made the suit that killed him. I didn't keep it sealed away. I'm the one designed the Aero-tank. I should have made the fuel tanks smaller, less volatile. Intentions aside, I fired the shot that caused the Aero-tank to explode and kill your brother. You have every right to be angry at me."
Michael steps back a pace, leaning casually against the table. "Kevin knew you were Iron Man too, didn't he?"
Tony jerks a look automatically at the door, knowing they're alone in the room, but unable to shake the idea that he really doesn't want anyone overhearing that. He nods cautiously at Michael. "He did."
At Tony's confirmation, Michael nods too. "I know my brother, Mr. Stark. I'm sure the moment he knew you were Iron Man, he'll have been desperate to join in." Michael smiles, some memory warming his face. "Believe me, if you hadn't tried building an armor for him, he'd have been begging for one. Tell me you could have said no to his face? Once he got something in his head?"
Tony wants to deny it. He'd built the Guardsman armor before Kevin said anything, but that was partly because he'd anticipated Kevin wanting one too. The two of them had been so interested in the same thing, the same kinds of scientific applications, the same desire to positively shape and guide the future into something grander and safer for everyone... Yeah, Tony knew Kevin would ask him for a suit of armor for himself. It was inevitable.
Still, the Guardsman armor hadn't been ready when Kevin took it. It hadn't been tested. Tony should have also predicted that Kevin would try and wear it anyway. He should have locked it away until it was safe. Instead, Kevin saw Tony in danger, and he put on the unfinished Guardsman Armor and Tony hadn't realized it was killing Kevin until he'd taken that last, fatal shot to stop him. He meant to just disable Kevin, but his blast accidentally hit one of the Aero-tank's fuel tanks and Kevin didn't stand a chance.
"Also," Michael continues, when it becomes clear Tony's going deep into his own mind and self-loathing, "you forget I'm his older brother. I never found a lock my little brother couldn't get through. So if you think you could have designed a system to keep that Armor from him, finished or not, think again. You're a genius but I promise you, you're not that smart."
"Kevin was," Tony says, almost unthinkingly, thinking of the stun ray Kevin built, the incident that drew Tony's attention to Kevin O'Brien in the first place. It's possibly the first time he's said Kevin's name out loud since his death. Kevin's name tastes bitter in his mouth. Like blood.
"Yeah, Kevin was," Michael says. "So for him to miss a problem with the Armor before he put it on... it's got to be a tough one."
"It was the cybernetic circuits," Tony says. "As far as I can tell, both with you and– with your brother. Something in it stimulates the wrong section of the wearer's brain."
"Yeah, that was a head rush. I've never been so angry before," Michael says, "and I hope you understand the impact of that when I explain that I was on duty when the Towers fell."
Tony swallows, hard, because he kind of blames himself a little for that, too. If he hadn't had his head so far up his own ass, if he'd had his own kind of rebirth, the one that bore Iron Man's existence... if that had been just a couple of years earlier... What if is a poison, one Tony's always going to swallow in every quiet moment for the rest of his life, one there's no antidote for.
"The Iron Man suit didn't scramble my head like that, though," Michael says.
"You didn't have it on long enough, I think," Tony says. "The cybernetics work differently in Iron Man. I've had years to calibrate them to my brain waves." He smiles humorlessly. "From what I can tell, what I was able to work on, the Guardsman armor fault affects you quickly, but you can come back from it. If you wore the Iron Man armor for an extended amount of time, and I didn't calibrate it to you... it could be permanent damage. The Guardsman armor works with a different interface, and shouldn't have caused anyone any problem. It shouldn't require calibration. But the problem with the Guardsman is it wasn't finished when your brother took it, and I never had the time to finish it before– before it was too late."
"My point I'm trying to make is that, with time, you can make an armor that doesn't play havoc with your noggin." Michael crosses his arms over his chest and stares coolly at Tony. "I know all that I owe you is an apology for causing you so much trouble. And you don't owe me a damn thing. But I'm asking you anyway." And here it is, what Tony expected Michael to ask. "I want the Guardsman Armor, Mr. Stark. The finished one. I want to do what Kevin would have wanted to do. I want to be the Guardsman. I haven't got any right to ask you, but I'm asking anyway. Please." He holds Tony's gaze firmly.
"I do owe you—" Tony starts.
"Bullcrap and bullshit and all kinds of whatever else gross stuff that comes out of cows," Michael interrupts. Startled, Tony quietens. "Kevin used to talk about you non-stop, y'know? Iron Man this and Tony Stark that and now I know you are Iron Man, well, I guess the hero-worship really makes sense to me. He told me about your heart problems, and I've seen it, personally seen you go out and risk your life to save others even at risk of a massive heart rupture. You're a hero, Stark. An actual, real hero. And no one knows? That's all kind of bullshit too. But I get why you do it. Tony Stark's too high profile. People knew you were Iron Man, there'd be a mess. You'd never get to do your job."
"So you'll keep my secret?" Tony asks, uncomfortable at the undeserved praise. "No one can know Iron Man and Tony Stark are the same person." He thinks about Kevin again, and has to glance at the floor briefly, to check he's still standing. Thinking about Kevin makes the floor feel unsteady.
Michael nods. "I promise to keep your identity secret. I'll keep that oath to the day I die, Mr. Stark."
Tony shudders, despite his attempts to stay in control of his emotions. Michael softens at the genuineness of Tony's reaction.
"I don't plan to die any time soon," Michael continues. "I just wanted you to know that what Iron Man does, that's important to me. It was important to Kevin. I promise to keep your identity secret, no matter what you decide."
"Decide?"
"About the Guardsman armor," Michael says.
Tony stares at Michael. He kind of wants to ask the man if he's serious about this, but Michael's been alone in this room for days now, waiting for Tony to get back. And Tony knows his answer. Tony's going to fix the Guardsman armor, so Michael can fight without the madness taking hold. Michael wants to protect people in Kevin's place. In Kevin's name. But fixing the fatal flaw of the armor's going to take time.
"Kevin used to have that look on his face too, when he'd realized it was useless to resist me," Michael says, and he straightens again, crossing the room and extending a hand to Tony. "It's pretty damn tough to say no to an O'Brien boy, didn't you know that?"
Tony holds stern for a second, but he's not kidding anyone, and he reaches out and grips Michael's hand, accepting the handshake and meeting Michael's firm gaze. There's a lot of Kevin in Michael's face, but there's a grim stubbornness too, and a calm and steady demeanor beneath everything. This is the path Michael's going to follow no matter what Tony says.
"There are conditions," Tony warns as he pulls back from the handshake.
"I'm ready for that," Michael says.
"No wearing the Armor until I say it's ready. Not if a supervillain is there and no Avenger is onsite. Not even if the Apocalypse is threatening. Not even if you're about to see a kitten squashed by Thor's hammer."
"Agreed," Michael says, promptly.
"As Guardsman, you'll maintain a secret identity. If you decide not to stay in the force, you'll accept a stipend from Stark International. No arguments."
Michael looks like he wants to argue, but he sags and says, "Sure."
"I'm going to ask the Avengers if they'll train you. That doesn't mean they'll extend you a guaranteed invitation to join the squad, nor does it mean you'll be obliged to say yes if they do."
"Will that include sparring with Iron Man?" Michael asks, somewhat eagerly.
Tony grins. "Pretty sure I can arrange that. I also have some exoskeleton training gear that you can use in the interim to get used to the mechanical joints of my armors. No cybernetic interface, so there's less danger, but they can be fairly—" Tony thinks of all the bruises he gets from his training rig before he finishes his sentence with, "—bruising."
"Sounds like fun," Michael says. And Michael and Kevin aren't identical twins, but they're similar enough that Tony can decipher that expression immediately: excited honesty. Michael's genuinely looking forward to all of it. Huh.
"Of course my identity must also remain secret. The Avengers don't know Iron Man has a severe heart condition." Tony wrinkles his face. "I'm sure if they found out, I might not get to be an Avenger myself, and I—"
"—am a crazy sonofabitch who would rather face imminent death than take it safe and sit on the sidelines?" Michael finishes, when Tony's pause becomes awkward. "Yeah, you and Kevin were more alike than you think."
Tony glares, but can't be too angry at that. He feels a little warm at the idea that he can carry a little of Kevin's character into the world, on his friend's behalf.
"And any of the Avengers' identities that are secret, if you discover them while here," Tony says, "you keep those secret as well. There's an awful lot of people out there who want to hurt us."
"You're telling me," Michael says, having only recently been mistakenly abducted by the Mandarin. Michael had been wearing the Iron Man suit at the time, it was an easy mistake. Tony saving his life—and revealing his identity to Michael to do so—just cemented Michael's certainty that Tony is a hero, and an unwilling participant in his brother's death.
"Of course, this all depends on the Avengers also agreeing to help train you. And that they're okay with keeping you here. I'm pretty sure they'll agree, but we'd best go and see them and make sure, don't you think?"
Michael nods, and then, when he sees Tony start to move, he facevaults. "Now? Me? Meet the Avengers? Now?" Michael suddenly sweeps his hands over his rumpled button-down shirt and creased slacks.
Tony smirks at his sudden self-consciousness. "Unless you have something better to do?"
"No sir," Michael breathes. He edges a look at Tony. "Is it true Captain America smells like apple pie at all times?"
Tony laughs a little, remembering the smell of the gym after Steve's been working up a rare sweat, and while the Captain America apple pie urban legend is funny, it's not true. Still, Tony says, "He also smells like freedom," because it would have made Kevin smile, and it makes Michael smile too. Maybe Kevin's not as entirely gone as Tony thought.
Michael actually makes a soft noise of glee under his breath as they walk together into the kitchen, and Tony feels horrible that he never managed to get Kevin to the mansion while the Avengers were around. Kevin would have loved to meet the Avengers. Kevin was quite the badass himself. They'd have gotten on really well.
Tony swallows back his regrets and grief and manages a weary but professional smile and nod of greeting at the assembled superheroes, and Tony does an automatic headcount. Steve's there, of course. His uniform is on, but it looks a little tattered at the edges. Tony recalls reading the summary of Steve's recent solo escapades, and resists the urge to wince—some freak had made a giant robot version of Captain America, named it the Ameridroid, and the resulting fight had nearly gotten Steve killed. Ha, Tony thinks, must have been a day of the week that ended in Y. It seemed like mortal trouble was the only kind of trouble that was going around recently.
The Wasp is also there—Jan Van Dyne—looking lovely as usual in her black and yellow uniform, her brown hair curled in a soft bob, warmly framing her cute face. She seemed to be engaged in discussion with Simon Williams—aka Wonder Man—about camera settings and lighting. That made some sort of sense. Jan's civilian work as a fashion designer involved a lot of photoshoots, and even with his wide spectrum of superpowers, Simon can't let go of his wish to be a famous model or actor. It's nice some of them have everyday hopes and goals.
Hank McCoy—Beast—is the only other Avenger there, wearing very little, scratching his blue furry behind with a breakfast knife and raising an eyebrow when he catches Tony looking at him, like he's daring Tony to persuade him to desist. Tony just rolls his eyes and Hank grins.
Tony glances to his side to see how Michael's handling things. To his credit, Michael's still standing. He looks a little dazed. Mostly by Captain America. Tony empathizes, thoroughly. Sometimes it's difficult not to be dazzled by Steve Rogers.
"Tony, you're back!" Jan says with a smile when she notices him, rising from her seat and quickly crossing the floor. She presses a kiss onto his cheek and Tony offers her a fleeting smile. "We saw your meetings overseas went well. Nicely done embarrassing a villain without even needing an Avenger's help!"
Tony nods, even as Michael shoots him a slightly questioning look. Tony quirks an eyebrow back at him and Michael nods in understanding, realizing that overseas meetings must be the only cover Tony has for disguising Iron Man's global escapades.
"Ah, I was wondering when our new housemate was going to show his face," Steve says, getting to his feet politely. Even with half of his face obscured with his Captain America mask, his expression is warm and open.
"This is Detective Michael O'Brien," Tony introduces, with a nod at Michael. "Unfortunately his brother died recently, caught up in one of Iron Man's enemy attacks, so he's going to be staying with us for a while, if no one has any objections?"
"I'm obliged for the kindness," Michael says, when there's a general murmur of agreement.
Steve is the first to speak, of course, always unconsciously leading the team even on their downtime. He extends a hand of welcome to Michael. "Sorry for your recent loss," he says, and it's obvious he means it. Michael nods at that. Steve pauses, then says, head tilted, "Irish?"
"Yessir," Michael says. "And yourself?"
"My parents," Steve says, straightening again. "Good ear." He smiles and shakes Michael's hand firmly. "I'm Captain America."
"Michael O'Brien," Michael says, in a remarkably even tone, considering that he's face-to-face with a room full of superheroes. "The Detective part is on hold for the moment."
"How much has Mr. Stark told you about your new housemates?" Steve asks.
"Uh," Michael says, and Steve shoots Tony a look, more soft exasperation than real chastisement. Tony pulls an apologetic face. He's been a bit busy, blowing up a castle and escaping Frankenstein's Monster and holy crap his life is weird.
"I'm sure you'll have seen most of us around at some point," Steve says wryly, putting a kind hand on Michael's shoulder and leading him further into the kitchen. "This is the Wasp."
"Nice to meet you," Jan says, beaming at Michael and holding her hand out for a handshake; Michael flusters and kisses her on the hand instead, making Jan's smile widen.
"Pleasure's all mine," Michael says, immediately smitten.
"Our roster is a little short at the moment," Steve says. "It's been a busy spell, to say the least. Vision and the Scarlet Witch are taking a little vacation time. The Black Panther has returned to his home country for personal business."
"I'm here, though," Simon says, and waves at Michael, not getting up. "Wonder Man. Hey there."
"Hello," Michael says.
"This is Henry McCoy," Steve says, gesturing at Hank, who's lounging against the sink, looking like he's trying to scrub something out of his blue fur. "You probably know him as the Beast."
"Hank is fine, Detective," Hank says, pausing from his scrubbing to throw Michael a lazy salute.
"Michael," Michael says. "I've taken an extended leave of absence from the police." He looks over at Tony. "Probably gonna work in the private sector, once things are up and running, eh?"
Ah, Tony thinks. Michael did have a lot of time to think before Tony's return to the mansion. He doesn't intend to join the Avengers. Kevin wouldn't have wanted to either, Tony thinks.
"Things?" Steve says, leaving the word loaded, arching a questioning eyebrow at Tony.
"I'll update you," Tony says, "if the others wouldn't mind getting Michael settled in?"
"Of course we wouldn't," Jan says, moving over to Michael and taking his arm. "Have you eaten yet today?"
"No ma'am," Michael murmurs, which just makes Jan laugh and coo over his politeness.
Tony claps Michael warmly on the shoulder as he turns to leave, and walks out to the hallway, just assuming Steve will follow. He can see the comforting and familiar blue shape of Captain America out of the corner of his eye, so he walks into one of the small reception rooms, sitting gingerly down on one of the sofas.
"Thank you for welcoming Michael like that, Cap," Tony says. Steve doesn't sit down on a regular piece of furniture, instead balancing on a table. That's somewhat normal for their daytime interactions. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you more of a head's up."
"Jarvis told me enough, don't worry. Apparently it was a little disconcerting expecting Iron Man to come out of the quinjet and finding a rattled Irishman inside ranting about how heroic Iron Man is," Steve says. "Rattled me for a while too, until Jarvis passed on a better summary of events."
Tony winces. "Yeah, Iron Man's got quite a debriefing for you when he gets in."
"Will that be soon?"
Tony weighs up how much he wants—needs—to sleep for a week, and the keenness on Captain America's face to see his teammate is okay, and, as usual, sleep loses out. "I'll make sure he drops by as soon as he's up to it. It's been a rough week. Would you believe he was caught by Frankenstein's Monster?"
Steve barks out a sharp sound that's almost like a laugh, but not quite. "Honestly, yes," he says, and smiles ruefully. "Just last week I had my butt severely handed to me by a giant replica of myself. I'm beyond getting surprised by this decade."
Much like Steve's laugh, Tony's smile isn't one of humor. "I keep saying that, but then I–" and yep, Tony definitely needs some good sleeping time, and some decent suit recharging, because he's had a handful of not-quite-heart-attacks in the span of two weeks, and that slip nearly makes him wince. "Iron Man's reports cross my desk and then I have to keep moving the boundaries of sanity a little further away every page."
At least Steve's wry chuckle at that comment sounds a little more amused.
"Don't worry about O'Brien," Steve says. "We'll take good care of him."
Tony nods, not needing anything more than that—there's nothing stronger than the word of Captain America. Then he focuses on giving as brief a summary of his last couple of weeks as possible, noting the parts that Steve will best need to know. Steve's face is somber as Tony explains about the protesters that Kevin accidentally killed while in the Guardsman armor, and how Iron Man had no choice but to try and subdue Kevin, but the attempt had turned sadly fatal. Steve's expression shifts to concern as Tony tells him how Michael had taken the Guardsman armor and been sadly caught up in the suit's flaw as well, his anger turning deadly. Steve straightens attentively as Tony explains how Michael ended up wearing Iron Man's armor, but was kidnapped in Iron Man's place, and Iron Man bravely rescued him. Of course, Tony alters events a little, but makes sure Steve knows the current threat level.
Steve briefly in return gives a small summary of events at the mansion, and Tony's stomach sinks at the description of the event he missed. The Grim Reaper, coming after Wonder Man and Vision, trying to avenge his brother's memory. It feels horribly familiar to Tony's last couple of weeks.
Tony can't give Steve a full summary of everything that's happened to him, because some events Tony Stark wouldn't have the information about, so he promises again that Iron Man will fill him in, and then yawns, loudly, before he can help himself.
"Sounds like you've had quite the week too," Steve says, stepping away from the table and moving over to the sofa, arm stretched like he's considering helping Tony up. Tony abruptly stands. He has the full chestplate on. He can't risk anyone getting close to him, lest they discover it and realize the Ultra-Rejuvenator failed and Tony's heart is weak again.
"Not quite as rough a week in the boardroom as fighting a giant android, or being put on trial by someone who thinks they're the personification of death," Tony says, ruefully scratching the back of his head.
"I'm sure thinking your company had been usurped by a supervillain will have felt apocalyptic," Steve jokes. He looks wearier than he sounds, though, and Tony knows how that feels. "I'll probably be in the library for a while, if you can let Iron Man know?"
Tony nods, promises that he will, and flees the small room before he can say something stupid.
Like Iron Man already knows, because I am Iron Man. Haha, isn't that wacky?
Tony shakes that thought away. Knowing who Iron Man really is is dangerous. It gets people hurt. Happy's been caught in the crossfire. Kevin… fatally so. Tony's scared enough for Michael.
Tony's starting to think that people knowing Iron Man's identity is a curse. He hopes for Michael's sake that he's wrong.
As much as Tony would like to give in to the urge to sleep, he has a lot of work to do. Forms to sign, e-mails to respond to, phone calls to respond. Stark International doesn't stop running just because its CEO has been almost kidnapped by the Mandarin and then actually kidnapped by Dreadknight. There's no way Tony can catch up on over a week's missed work, especially considering all the extra paperwork from global companies they trade with who still don't know that Stark International hasn't been renamed. He can't catch up but he can prioritize, and he does the stuff that will stop his company from burning to the ground by morning. The rest can wait.
Tony stretches awkwardly, his body aching in places he hadn't known existed to ache, and there's a pressure behind his eyes that means he really should sleep, but instead, he clenches his hands in the right way to activate the Mark IV Iron Man suit, making a mental note to start a new suit for himself immediately. The missing older suits are still causing him some major concern, but Agent Sitwell is on that problem, and Tony can't single-handedly do everything on his own. He has to delegate something. Still, he promised Steve that Iron Man would give him an update, and Tony can't break a promise to Captain America.
The library is on the first floor, whereas Tony's workshop, bedroom and rarely-used office are on the second floor, along with the Avengers' bedrooms and the common room which gets used as a den or a study depending on the current line-up of Avengers. Unfortunately Tony doesn't know where all the Avengers are, so he goes the long way to get to the library, using the secret staircase in his workshop to descend to the sub-basement. The staircase bypasses sub-basement level one, but has exits into the second and third sub-basements. Tony exits at sub-basement two, sliding out from behind a portrait of Dr. Isaac Stark Snr., before heading up to elevator B, which takes him directly into the library.
As he predicted, Steve is sitting at his favorite window, a pile of paperwork in his hands. He doesn't rise from his seat when he sees Tony enter, but he does shoot him—well, Iron Man—a warm smile, and Tony waves and walks over the plush carpet to join him, the solid feet of the armor denting the carpet fibers.
There's one question on Tony's mind that Tony Stark isn't really allowed to ask, but Iron Man can get away with. He begins with it, because he's too tired for small talk, and Steve's obvious weariness is enough of an answer that Tony doesn't need to open with how are you?
"Any luck locating the Falcon?" Tony asks as he sits in the seat opposite from Steve. Steve stands for Tony Stark, but he sits for Iron Man, and that—at least—is enough for Tony. Iron Man's the only decent thing about Tony Stark, after all.
Steve's shoulders hunch and that's enough of an answer to Tony's question. "I've heard that you've been having an interesting time," Steve says instead of responding to the question.
"Have I ever," Tony says, and tries to summarize his last few adventures without all of the sort-of-heart-attacks to spoil it. And by spoil, he means reveal to the Avengers how bad his heart condition is, and how precarious it is for him to be in the suit for any real length of time, and how unsuitable he is as a hero at all.
Steve in return gives him a brief rundown of events in the time since Iron Man's last appearance at the mansion, in way more detail than Tony Stark received, and Tony is almost glad he's been so wrapped up in the Guardsman issues, the Mandarin and Dreadknight.
"Wow," Tony says at the end of it.
"Wow just about covers it," Steve agrees amicably. His soft smile fades a little into something more serious. "How's your boss taking it? I thought Kevin O'Brien was his friend. It can't be easy being blamed like that."
"Michael was just doing what he thought was right," Tony defends, immediately. Then he sags in his seat. "My boss is holding up okay, I guess. As best as he can in the circumstances, I mean."
"Tell him I'm here, if he needs a friendly ear," Steve says.
"I'll be sure to pass that on," Tony says. At least this time when he yawns he can feel it coming in time enough to make sure his speaker is muted, so Steve can't hear it.
"It also sounds like there hasn't been much time for rest on your schedule," Steve says, admonishingly. "Tony works you too hard."
Tony glares at him, the Iron Man mask hiding the expression. "Stark asks for nothing from me he wouldn't ask from himself."
"I wasn't criticizing our sponsor," Steve says. "Well. I guess I was. Tony Stark works himself too hard, too."
Tony grunts. Steve's probably not wrong. "Maybe you can convince him to let me guard him all the way to a tropical island for a week or two," Tony suggests. Then he thinks about it. "But then the Mandarin will probably try to kidnap me again," he adds, dolefully. "I'd say a staycation might be safer, but apparently even the mansion isn't hallowed ground for villains anymore."
Steve's mouth wobbles, then squints at Tony. "Staycation?"
"Instead of a vacation, but you stay home. I thought it was a forties term."
"I must have missed it," Steve says.
"I suppose there wasn't a lot of room for popular culture in Hydra trenches."
"Not exactly."
Tony beams at Steve's deadpan tone. "Boss was wondering if Michael O'Brien could train with the Avengers sometime. I mean, maybe not when Thor's around, and not any of the main drills. But some of the stamina and footwork stuff, some strategy. That would be helpful."
Steve looks briefly confused. "Of course, anything we can do to help Tony is fine. Can I ask if there's a particular reason? Obviously, if it's classified, it's classified, but knowing what the aims are for his training could help me target it more personally?"
"Oh," Tony says. Sometimes he's so busy planning twenty steps ahead that he forgets some parts have happened only in his head. "Well, it's the Guardsman armor. Stark is confident that given time to actually finish it, then it can be operated safely. The previous occupant wore it when it wasn't ready. But Michael has made a request to be the one to operate the Guardsman when it is finished, in his brother's memory."
Steve nods coolly. "I can understand that. You wear one of Tony Stark's armors, did it ever affect you like the unfinished Guardsman armor affected the O'Brien brothers?"
Tony had covered why the Guardsman armor had failed Kevin, and caused Michael's wrath to balloon out of control, so Steve knows it was just a matter of the flaw being undiscovered because testing hadn't been completed. "Some headaches early on," Tony admits. "But once Stark finished the calibration and matched it exactly to my brainwaves, nothing. I regularly monitor my brainwaves and patterns, as much as possible, and nothing on the lines of what the O'Briens experienced happened to me."
"Good, good," Steve says. "Well, I had some guidelines for your Avengers training, should you ever turn up without the suit on." Steve winks at him, knowing it's a long-lost battle. "Shouldn't be difficult to adjust to someone already in good physical condition."
"Hey, I was in good physical condition when I started this job," Tony snipes. It's somewhat true. Apart from the bad heart.
"I wouldn't know," Steve says. "Back when we were developing the training routines, there were still the rumors going around."
"Rumors?"
"That your boss was Iron Man."
Tony's face freezes, thank-fucking-goodness for masks. "I didn't mind those rumors so much," he lies. "It's weird that people are more likely to give free stuff to people who are already rich. I'm a fan of free stuff."
"That is weird," Steve agrees.
"Wait, you thought my boss would need it easy?" Tony snickers lightly, the modulator turning it into a weird buzzing noise. "He's kinda buff under all those suits."
Steve glances at him oddly. "Huh. I guess I just figured with the heart condition and his work schedule that he probably wouldn't be at the same level of, say, a New York detective who spends hours on the streets. Still, it's a moot point, I guess I just didn't think about it much."
It shouldn't be a surprise, but Tony is a little disconsolate at the idea that Steve thought he was physically weak. Or maybe he's just sad because it seems like Steve doesn't think of Tony much at all. "I'll let my boss know you're okay with O'Brien joining your training," Tony says, pulling his thoughts back on topic and trying to ignore his personal pride has taken a small dint. "If there's nothing else, I'll retire for the day."
"Of course," Steve says. "Thanks for the update, Shellhead."
"No problem," Tony says, and heads out to the hallway, disappearing into the nearest hidden passageway that he can. He heads down the gap in the walls quickly, moving directly to his bedroom, collapsing the suit and flopping back onto his bed, not even taking his clothes off first.
He's sound asleep by the time he hits the pillow.