Title: floating point exception

Summary: Tony, after the Civil War. (Post CA:CW)

Notes: Literally just Tony angst for five billion chapters. I warned you.

When software code is compiled, there are 3 types of errors. One of these is called a run-time error, which only occurs when you have correctly compiled code, and any linked items (files, references, etc) are connected without errors when there is an attempt to make the program run.

There are 2 types of run-time errors. One of these is a fatal error, which occurs when the executed program crashes unceremoniously. An example of this would be when a variable retrieves the answer to 1/0. Mathematically, any number divided by zero has no defined value, and the program would crash even though the code would be correct.

The only clue to the issue with the executed program would read: Floating point exception.

It would be up to the developer to realize what was causing the issue and fix it, if they could indeed fix it.

(Floating point exceptions are always fixable since they are always caused by a variable being divided by zero. The developer simply has to figure out where their logic has failed them and make sure they fix that code.

The real problem is a developer has only one perspective on a problem, and sometimes can't see the issue until they walk away or get another pair of eyes on their code. Not to say their solution isn't correct on the whole, just that a portion of the implementation needs finesse.)

Chapter 1: Debugger

When a developer needs to figure out something that has gone wrong, the use a computer program called debugger to help them discover what has gone wrong with their program. It's the first step any developer takes when trying to fix a problem.

Tony lays there in Siberia, aching from every inch of his body. His false rib cage is broken. The suit is still powered, running at close to 38%, but the list of different systems damaged, or in need of repairs requires scrolling.

"Boss," FRIDAY whispers in his ear. "I've sent a helicopter to your location."

"There was a moment," he says, dazed. His vision is blurry. "Before Ultron but after Manhattan, where I thought, maybe all this could work."

But Tony keeps forgetting his first instinct, the one that has him reaching for the scotch, the one that can sketch a fully functional design for a new gun when he lets his thoughts wander, usually isn't the right one.

"Boss," FRIDAY whispers and she sounds wrecked. Tony huffs laugh because she is an AI and shouldn't sound wrecked. He couldn't even get that right.

FRIDAY is still talking in his ear, but Tony feels fuzzy, tired down to his bones, and he just drifts.

From 54985-466-8653

Tony.

Cap had had his ridiculous suit on that Tony kept trying to rework - at least make a few upgrades, but Cap always dodged the offers - and had been reading a file or maybe perusing Facebook on a StarkTablet. His shield lay on the table top, and he had an intensity as he read whatever it was. Tony had wanted to make a joke, but there was something serene about his focus, that he didn't want to break.

Natasha had been laughing with Bruce from their seats at the end of the conference table as they discussed travels in India. Hers had been highly edited, but Bruce hadn't seemed to care that day. There had been something there in both their faces, just a second of something that Tony sees now, and he mourns the loss for both of them. The steadiness and comfort they had wanted for a long time.

Hawkeye and Thor had been exchanging stories of ever increasing ridiculousness about different challenges they had been a part of. Tony definitely doesn't believe he had been a part of a bicycle gang for a cover, and Thor, hopefully, hadn't run naked through what sounded like an Amazonian goddess filled planet as a part of his of age ceremony.

He had sat to the right, windows at his back as he had worked on the scenario. JARVIS had been in his ear, softly telling him about changes he was making in the back end to the Avengers training scenario.

"Sir, I don't think it would be great to begin your first training exercise with specifically targeted attacks on the Avengers that could potentially isolate everyone."

"No, J," Tony disagrees loudly. His fingers are flying across the keyboard, pulling in the basic profiles for the Avengers one by one for the program to take into account. "We need to have a few guys programmed specifically to attack our weaknesses. Pull out the list of the weaknesses per Avenger. Target our top 3. The rest of guys can just be be assorted mindless idiots."

JARVIS faithfully updates the combatants on the second screen. Tony scans the code briefly as JARVIS continues to write out five or so targeted villains for each of them to deal with. He's coming up with some pretty fantastical names. Zzzax definitely sounds like some version of a keysmash. Tony lets it slide for the moment. He'll get a database of generic names set up later. That'll tickle Clint's funny bone. Thor would enjoy creating some villain names in his Hamlet-y way of speaking (which seriously has ruined any Shakespeare plays that he didn't already loathe on the principle of it being Shakespeare).

"Shouldn't we be trying to work on coming together as a team and not our individual weaknesses?" Cap asks.

Tony glances back to him, and he's watching Tony now. The tablet's on the table for now. Tony shrugs. "I think we need to take on some crazy things to get our attention focused on working together. And if it's something we can't overcome alone, the team will be forced to work together to win."

Cap watches him for a beat longer before nodding. "Makes sense. The profiles based on the intel from the Manhattan fight, right? We probably need to update them. It's been a good six months since then."

Grabbing Cap's tablet is easy. Tony ignores the browser window open on an article about the Beatles and opens the command prompt. It's takes a few more keystrokes than he would like, but JARVIS is paying attention like always and prepopulating the terms in the window to help him navigate down to the private server level he has set up specifically for the Avengers related items. He eases his way past the firewalls and security measures with JARVIS by-passing them before he even pulls up the next one.

He pulls up the viewable PDFs for the statistics for the team before sliding the tablet back to Cap.

Tony turns back to the program on the screen. "Okay J. Have we gotten the security parameters beyond the initial, 'oh shit don't let anyone die so Fury can't kill me' level we talked about?"

JARVIS' modulated voice sounded amused. "The file has been updated with more instances. There will be notifications if there are minor injuries, but any majors ones will end the simulations immediately."

"List the types that qualify as major injuries."

"Burns, a penetrating injury -"

"Boss."

"How did you know about my mission in Guadalajara last month?" Natasha queried. "That was level 7."

He turns back, leaning back in his chair. "Oh you know. This and that."

Natasha is leaning heavily on Cap's chair, watching him. Sometimes he feels like she can split him open like a watermelon and can count all his thoughts and secrets like they are seeds in his pulpy flesh. He waves at the ceiling when it gets too much.

She's a super spy. She could figure it out.

"This is good intel Tony," Cap says. Tony swings his gaze back to the man. He's serious, a small twist of the lips. "Can I review this to make sure I can prepare training sessions correctly?"

Tony nods. "JARVIS, allow Cap access to all items under level Justice League security level."

"Yes sir. Mr. Rogers, if you take a look at the tablet, you will notice an icon for the Avengers. This file will include…"

His eyes go back to the screen, ignoring the cozy scene of the rest of the team crowded around the tablet with JARVIS narrating the various footage or information in front of them.

"Boss can you respond?"

The simulation needs to be finished before the team can take up in the new training room. He needs to make sure the drones are programed to get moving as soon as they start the simulation.

There are environmental factors he hasn't finished yet, like the wind. He needs to make sure to add a randomizer to any wind generation, so Clint will have to think on his feet and can't predict the changes. Also, he can't forget to make sure the drones that have traces of Vibranium in their skeletons are focused on Thor and Cap since they can take the heavier hits.

He opens a new window and types in a query for JARVIS to check the drones he manufactured and to make sure the weapons arrays on each matches to those they are using in the simulation and to already start manufacturing on the back up ones. He has a feeling they aren't going to end up coming out of this session in one piece.

A hand grazes his shoulder, and Tony looks up. The light in the room has adjusted. Must have been an hour or so. "The rest went to take a look around the training room. You almost ready?" Cap queries.

"Yeah. We're about ready. JARVIS?" Tony looks up at the nearest blinking camera.

"Ready sir."

"Okay, let's get this show on the road then Cap," Tony says. He exits out of the windows he had been working in quickly before putting the computer in sleep mode.

Cap clears his throat. "Steve. Call me Steve."

Tony tosses him a tired grin. "Oh I think I like Cap more." Cap's face falls, and Tony redirects, "But I can call you Steve. I think. It may take me a while to get use to remembering you are a mere mortal and not someone Dad used to ramble about."

"Howard talked about me often?" Steve's tone is incredulous, but he holds out a hand to Tony. Tony, ever the gentleman, takes it and stands up.

"Oh yeah. Favorite story was the day Aunt Peg shot at your shield. Said he had never met a more firey dame or a more noble man." He leads the way out of the room and down towards the stairs. Steve trailed beside him.

"Did he and Peggy ever..." Steve pauses at the top of the stairs.

Tony turns back. "Nah. Aunt Peg would have shot him in the family jewels and then I would never have been here," Tony says with a smile makes up for what it lacks in authenticity with wattage. "He met Mom while she worked in the early days of SHIELD. Fell in love, had me, died in a crash crash."

"I'm sorry Tony," Steve murmurs and they continue with their descent.

Tony shrugs. "Long time ago. Can't miss someone too much after 20 years."

"I dunno," Steve says. "I can still feel the ones from 70 years ago."

"Boss."

When they enter the simulation room, the rest of the team is playing with the goodies Tony has been working on. JARVIS must have shown them the armory next door.

"Simulation beginning in two. Get suited up. JARVIS, prep."

Tony calls the suit to him merging on his body in a familiar hum. Natasha adjusts the Bites on her wrist. Clint throws a few more arrows in his quiver. Bruce is standing around in his purple pants, breathing in slowly. "Come brothers and sister in arms!" Thor crows. "Let's defeat the giant white blobs."

The projections of Central Park begin to take over the room, the fans kick up, and the group of white robots light up. Names display across their torsos. Bruce starts looking a little green.

"You built a real holodeck," Clint accuses. "A real life holodeck."

"Only a true nerd would know that Legolas," Tony returns. He takes to the air to survey the landscape. The room is really the size of 2 football fields, so they robots will be slow going as they boot up, but the smaller ones will make it across the space pretty quickly.

"What is this holodeck you speak of?" Thor booms even as a grin spreads across his face.

The robots begin moving as Natasha says, "Fight now, marathon Star Trek later."

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Cap - Steve - adds. "Ready Avengers?"

"Born ready," Clint yells as he grapples around on the simulated building until he has a perch. Then a robot flies by his position and lets loose a wave of fire from it's mouth. "Really Stark? A flamethrower?"

"Prepare for every situation," Tony spouts, weaving around the giant fist of a robot.

There is roar, and the Hulk has joined the party. "HULK SMASH."

"Please do," Steve hisses as a blow hits his shield.

Widow flips around a robot weaving around trying to find a weakness. It moves with her, slower but still fingers trailing after her every shift. Cap tosses his shield which the robot bats away easily. It gives Widow the time she needs to find a gap in the armor at the neck and start tearing out cords.

Tony has to look away because the flamethrowing bird comes straight at him, beak open and fire filling the air. "Come on JARVIS, did we need this much fire?"

"Actually sir, yes. We did."

"Don't sound so smug," Tony bites back as he ducks. He throws an arm out before an arrow strikes the bot and it blows up in his face. "Little close there Katniss."

"Flamethrower robots Stark," comes over the communicator.

"I'm not living that one down for a while," he sighs.

There is a grunt and Cap says, "Not when they just nearly got my eyebrows."

Another yell is in the air, and Thor somehow summons lightning inside the building to take down one of the water wielding robots and an electrical flavored one. Both burst.

Hulk is ripping apart the swarm on him while Hawkeye explodes any that he can shoot.

"Boss. The helicopter is here."

They continue on like this for a while. Chirps are exchanged, there is a moment where Clint's perch explodes and Tony is too far away to catch him, only to have Thor to snag him right before he hits the ground, and Hulk gets a little too enthusiastic about tossing parts that he snags Natasha in the temple with a stray piece of robot armor and Steve in the gut with a robot arm. Tony probably has a head injury from how hard one robot smacked him in the head.

Eventually they beat down every last piece and JARVIS powers down the projection of the landscape. The Hulk has retreated, and Bruce is there, breathing hard, but there with a tiny smile. They are all bloody and sweaty and grinning. "Go take a shower," Steve orders and they all fall out, joking and laughing and Clint is recounting the firebird explosion with wide gestures. Something in his chest blooms at the sight.

A proximity alarm tells him about the hand Steve puts on his arm. He has the face plate pull back as he faces him. "Yes Cap?"

"Thanks for this Tony." Steve's relaxed, lips twisting upwards. "I think we really needed this."

The sincerity in the statement pulls at the low vulnerable place in him that Obie boarded up all those years ago. "That's what I'm here for. The never ending supply of fun toys," he jokes.

"It still means something," Steve says, voice low. "To me at least."

"Any time Steve," he returns, surprised to find he means it.

Steve pats his armor before walking towards the showers as well, and Tony watches him go for a beat,

then two,

then three.

"Boss you really need to move. The helicopter is as close as I could get it."

Tony starts into a wakefulness. "Got it Fry," he groans. He pushes himself up and the armor adjusts to help him. The noise it makes is audible, which is never a good sign for the status of the suit,

"Oh thank god boss. The autopilot is offline, and I was about to resort to calling Miss Potts and having her yell at you into moving."

"Abort any thoughts of that. Okay where is this plane?" He is wheezing, but standing so that has to count for something.

"To your left. I need you to walk out the opening right there, and I'll catch you."

"I think you are the only one who would right now," he jokes as he shuffles forward. His left arm is moving more jerkily than he wants but at least it's moving. It feels like he's barely kept all his bones in his skin.

"Always boss," her tone is warm and sincere, but Tony want to believe but can't because JARVIS used to say that, and he's gone now. "What about the shield?"

My father made that.

He killed my mother.

Tony catches sight of gleaming vibranium. He holds out his right arm, "Fry, turn on the cap magnet." The old joke tastes like ash in his mouth.

The gauntlet powers up, and the shield come flying at him. He reaches out with the left hand and catches it with both. His arms shakes and the rim of the shield suddenly looks like it's from above instead of in front of him.

Do it. Kill me like you killed them. Do it. DO IT!

"Boss. Colonel Rhodes is asking for you. He says you have to be doing something stupid. Should I patch him in?"

"In a minute," Tony replies and trudges to the opening, shield in hand. The HUD's vision is slightly greyed out around the edges, and the battery percentage is down to 18%. "Whelp this is going to suck. Time to play catch baby girl." He just steps out.

And he's falling for a moment, for forever, before the helicopter comes up, side open and he neatly falls into the open seat. It's jarring, don't get him wrong, but it at least gets him in something moving. He places the shield in the seat beside him, and presses the button on the center console to remove the suit. It melts away, and he has to take too cold breathes that nearly cause him to hyperventilate.

FRIDAY counsels him to take deep breathes, and he bends until he has his head between his legs, no matter how much his ribs creak and protest. He stays there for a while, trying to count the beats between this breath and the next one. When Tony can actually count to four beats and feel his lungs inflate until they feel tight, he sits back up.

"Patch Rhodey in, Fry. Secure as possible."

She hums and Tony closes his eyes as he tries his best to meld into the chair. "Tones?" Rhodey sounds a little high on pain medication.

Tony smiles to himself. "Hey babe," he retorts.

"What stupid shit have you gotten into now?"

"Some of the stupidests of shit piles," he replies. "I found Cap and his friend. We found the guy behind the bombings in Vienna. We split up and went our separate ways and I am coming home."

Rhodey grunts and there is a rustle of sheets. "What am I missing here?"

"Underwater prison that Ross has the rest of Team Cap in."

"Jesus, you have to be kidding me. That's against the Accords. They should be in a cell in the Terrorism Centre in Vienna awaiting trial."

Tony grunts as he sits up. "I think Ross swooped in while we were on our way out and grabbed them before the UN knew about it. I need to put some feelers out to figure out what exactly went down there."

There is a quiet beep, FRIDAY taking note and already tracking down some leads. "What else Tony? I can hear your moans from here."

He opens his eyes against the window, the blank white stares back at him. "I lost it a little."

"Tell me," Rhodey hums.

Tony breathes in for a second and counts - one, two, three, four - before letting it all out in a rush. "There was a video of December 16th 1991."

"What," Rhodey pauses. "What are you ta-wait. Your parents?"

The window is cold, and it helps with the headache he has pounding between his ears. It sounds like a heartbeat. "Apparently Dad pissed off Hydra, and they sent the Winter Soldier after him."

The silence between them is heavy. Tony has to swallow back the lump in his throat. "Dad wasn't drunk. Their tires was shot out. They crashed. He pulled dad out of the car and killed him and then went to mom's side and crushed her throat. Dad wasn't drunk."

There feels like a million shattered pieces inside of him, illusions, ideas, and so much anger that broke and what's left is stuffed inside of him. Moving with him and pressing against vital organs and just aches.

"Tony, Tones. Stay with me buddy."

"He knew. Fuck Nat probably knew too." Tony spits out.

Rhodey is calm, a lighthouse in a churning storm. Always has been and always will be. "Who knew what?"

"Cap. About Mom and Dad."

There is a low sound on the other end. "Fuck him. Who cares about him. What matters is you're okay. You're still here. You coming home right?"

"Yeah, right now."

"We'll deal with everything later then. Want me to tell you about the terrible food they are trying to poison me with here?"

The window is cold, Tony aches inside and out, and all he can see when he closes the eyelid of that grainy footage. But he smiles. "Yeah. Tell me Rhodey."

He spends the rest of the flight back listening to Rhodey tell him about his hospital adventures.

To: itsybitsyspiderman

I don't just lie to pretty aunts in Queens. Your SI Internship starts on Monday. Wear khaki's for orientation, but after you get out of that, wear some ironic t-shirts and jeans. You'll fit right in with the nerd squad.

You're in the biomedical group. Minchen is an idiot but he has decent ideas. Perez actually knows how to do good work, so he's your mentor.

Don't get caught kid.

-you know who

Team Cap busts out of the RAFT a month after Siberia while Tony is holding a press conference about the future of the Sokvoia Accords. Thaddeus Ross is at his side for the first twenty minutes before he stalks out. Tony grins and says, "He is already on the case, tracking down every vigilante who hasn't signed yet" to the twittering crowd. The door slams behind the secretary of state.

"As I was saying," he continues. "The Avengers will be taking a step back as the UN continues to evaluate the current rules and regulations around the Accords after the incident in Germany and the whole Winter Soldier," he waves his hand, "situation."

"The Joint Counter Terrorism Centre will be splitting out with a new division called S.W.O.R.D. It has been deemed by the UN that current Deputy Task Force Commander Everett Ross will be taking charge of this new group. They will be the man power behind the additional investigation into all the enhanced individuals during and after the Vienna bombings." He nods to the shorter man who slid into Ross' place beside him moments earlier. "In addition, Commander Ross and his team will be the enforcement behind any decisions the UN makes at this time."

More than a few reporters' attention gets pulled to their buzzing phones, and Tony claps his hands together, jolting a few in the front row. "Okay what questions do you have for me today?"

Hands promptly appear in the air, and Tony leans around glancing at the faces in the crowd. His lips press together briefly, before pointing, "You. Jennifer is that you? Still with CNN?"

A tall, dark skinned beauty stands briefly, "Yes, actually. What do you have to say about the rumors that you brought in more vigilantes who have not signed the Accords to Germany?"

Tony grips the podium tightly, fingers flexing against the wood, but the strain is hidden underneath his suit. "You know to never to listen to rumors," he retorts.

"I know an evasion when I hear one Mr. Stark," she counters flatly. Tony grins widely at that.

"Good to know you know your craft Jenny," he replies. "Okay I know I am going to get this question about five hundred different ways, so let me answer this now this one time. Don't try to ask it again. I will skip you, even you Christine of my heart." The Vanity Fair reporter glowers at him in the middle of the crowd.

"Yes, I brought in a few extra guns to a fight. At the time, only 2 participants had not signed the accords, Black Panther and Spiderman. His Majesty T'Challa of Wakanda shipped a signed copy to the UN after the Germany incident, so we have Black Panther covered now. We are working with Spiderman on his concerns around giving his information in a manner that can be used against him in the future. This is one of the current topics the UN is looking into with the current revisions of the Sokovia Accords." His smile never wavers.

The crowd of journalists look at him, ready and awaiting his next call. Tony leans and looks around at the crowd, looking to something. "Next….You look familiar Daily Bugle." He wiggles his fingers at the weary journalist.

The man straightens. His suit is generic and a little worn around the edges. Tony has to keep his thoughts straight because his brown hair is windblown and the whole picture looks too familiar. "Ben Ulrich, Mr. Stark, Daily Bugle. Spiderman has been spotted wearing a new uniform that has some technological upgrades. It looks, frankly, like something out of your wheelhouse."

"Is there a question in there?" Tony asks idly. His gaze swings around the room. "I know you have one straight from Jameson's mouth, because let's be honest, that's where this is coming from. Triple J over there. I'll make this short. Yes, I am helping Spidey because he needed an upgrade if he was going to stand with me, because seriously, you can't stand with me and not look cool. It's a requirement."

The murmurs grow louder at that, and Tony can see more than a few smirks in the crowd. Ulrich has a wince across his face, so Tony's on the mark there. "So really, Ben Ulrich of the Daily Bugle, what are you dying to ask me?"

"Are you helping other vigilantes who have not signed the Accords like Spiderman? Maybe Captain America?"

"Any one who has not signed the Accords is, at this point in time, in direct conflict with the Accords, as long as they are in a country aligned with the United Nations, and all citizens are charged with trying to help bring those persons to justice. No one more so than me, considering I was one of the first Avengers to sign. Did you know it was part of the Accords is that you are beholden to UN committee to try and apprehend anyone in a UN country?" He paused and took in his audience, "Oh, I see some confused faces. It's somewhere on page 497 on that novel. But as long as the persons are on a negotiating list with the UN, they're safe. Like Spiderman."

Reaching out, he takes the handy water bottle in hand and takes a sip before continuing. "At this time, I have had no contact with any Avenger that is not Colonel Rhodes or the being named Vision. Also lay off Spidey. He's a decent guy who just wants to help."

Ulrich nods before retaking his seat.

"Ed from LA something, you're up."

"Edward Morris, LA Times. What is Mr. Banner's thoughts on the split in the Avengers?"

Tony straightens. "Doctor Banner is working on some research at this moment, and he cannot be reached for comment."

The dark headed man isn't satisfied. "Isn't it dangerous to have misplaced the Hulk? Should the public be panicking?"

"No," Tony's tone is tense. "Dr. Banner is doing research for SI at this time and has been communicating his location through his reports back to his research team. Okay, who is our next contestant?"

The next reporter is a mousy brunette from the New York Times. "Mr. Stark, what do you think should be the next steps taken in regard to the W-" she begins before Everheart is standing and asking, "Did you know anything about the break out of the Falcon, Scarlet Witch, Hawkeye and Ant Man from the RAFT facility where they were being held under the orders of the Secretary of State?"

His emotions flash before fading away. He doesn't even pause in his performance.

"Oh so that's where Thaddy disappeared so quickly to. Also shame on you for breaking up this flow we had going. Well, I think it's safe to say I didn't know since you just informed me, but I would not condone any attack on a nation supporting the Accords. But if they were simply being held at the RAFT awaiting transport, I'm surprised the UN was not willing to share the information with the Avengers at this point in time."

He takes in the shell shocked faces before adding on, "Oh look, there is my cue card to say time's up. It's been a pleasure, and any additional questions can go to my PA in the corner over there. Wave at the hungry mob of reporters Jonah. Don't break the poor guy people, he's new, and I would like him to last more than a few weeks."

Tony waves over the clammering press and heads out the same side exit Ross had taken earlier. The younger Ross is close on his heels. "You need to support the Accords publicly Stark," he tosses the second the doors close behind him.

"Did you not see that show back there? I was your dog and pony in that show. You guys need to step up your media presence. Do you need training? I know some lovely PR people who would love to get their claws into you and your organization."

He continues on his way. There is a lovely Secretary of State at the end of the hall, red in the face. "Did you tell Steve Rogers where his friends were being held?"

"No General. I did not tell Captain America about your under the sea prison. How would that conversation even go? You had me monitored while I was there, after I left, and I wouldn't be surprised if you had all of the NSA manpower pointed at anything with my name on it."

"Stark!" Ross bellows. "You do not have any power in this situation, I can throw you in a hole as deep and as dark as I want, and I will have the backing of the entire UN. Don't cross me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Tony calls as his suit constructs itself around him. "Not at all."

He takes off our the nearest window. He has FRIDAY send a payment to the building's owner before he pushes a bit harder, a bit faster, so all he can think about is making sure he doesn't crash and not his former teammates faces in the RAFT.

From: itsybitsyspiderman

Mr. Stark,

Thank you. I mean you didn't have to and don't think I'm not grateful because this is insane. I never thought I could get an internship with SI, especially while I was in high school. Definitely when I was 15.

Dr. Perez is awesome! He has this project he is working on to be able to create a robotic prosthetics that works with a microchip to allow people to walk again after losing a limb.

But yeah. Thanks for this. This is everything I have ever wanted to do.

I got a the work cell you sent me. If you ever need anything I'll be there.

Sincerely,

Peter Parker

There are tears slipping down his younger version's boyish cheeks, silent sobs racking his body. Tony has to take a moment to realize where he is, when he is. He knows the second he sees a vivid Ana Jarvis running around a corner, bright red hair, lime green dress circling around her, and how her expression just drops when she sees the younger version of him, probably all of 6 years old, in the corner of the room.

"Tony? Dear what is wrong?" She crosses the room in a heartbeat and folds herself beside him against the window seat. Shadows play across her face, making her cheeks look gaunt, and older than she is in this moment.

Something seizes in him at the image.

Young Tony leans towards her warm, her comfortable presence. "Dad said he was disappointed I hadn't finished testing and documenting the changes I made to the mechanical model of the plane. The engine just stopped working mid-flight, and I thought I had figured out that issue, but it came crashing down in the foyer and just broke apart and I have to start again. I didn't want to disappoint him again Ana. Not again."

"Oh Tony", Ana whispers, as she brushes his tears away. "You will try your hardest to prove everyone wrong, won't you?"

Tony doesn't want to disappoint her, so he whispers yes. He can't understand why her eyes start welling up too. "I'll be the best, so I can prove everyone wrong."

She laughed her delighted laugh. The one she gives Jarvis when he picks her up and spins her around. "Oh lelkem, you won't be proving everyone wrong." She wipes her eyes quickly before she places both hands his cheeks so he looks her straight in the eye. "You'll be proving me right."

Tony doesn't. He just. He drops the parts in his hands, and hugs her tight and close. Breathes in and clutches her. She holds on just as tight.

"Fry shut down the simulation," Tony breathes in and it rattles around in his chest.

"Yes boss."

The room is dark without the simulation up and running. Friday turns on the lights as he moves through the room. He's a ghost workshop. The little light from the moon illuminates the place on the table where the shield lays, half under some rag that Tony isn't sure he threw or if one of the slumbering robots tossed.

The claw marks look fresh and jagged down the metal. They aren't deep, only surface scratches. It feels like he floats there, because Tony can't remember moving. Can't remember putting down the long emptied glass (that's been refilled maybe one too many times). He slides his fingers down the marks. Down the indents on the metal on the side from where is hit him.

He feels the ache down in his chest. Grainy footage fills his mind. Blood rushing down the side of his face, in his mouth. He killed my mother, rings in his ears.

"I don't know if you could be more disappointed in me."

Tony's not sure who he is talking to, but whoever it is, they probably are.

He lurches away from the table, grabs his glass and goes back to the bottle of whiskey. "FRIDAY, show me Mark 15 of the exoskeleton." He says as he pours himself another drink.

"Yes Boss," she replies.

The room lightens, a hologram bursts to life and Tony takes a sip before he starts. "Okay let's break this thing down again Fry. Walk me through it."

To spiderboy

smart has nothing to do with age and everything to do with ability

To spiderboy

also I have the feeling you could make me millions with some crazy super sticky glue invention

To spiderboy

i need the money to feed my alcoholism

To Mr Stark

I created a nerf dart grenade today, so maybe you can patent that?

To spiderboy

you had a nerf gun fight without me?! For shame.

To Mr Stark

Some intern said the hulk was a mindless idiot and he wouldn't listen to anyone say anything otherwise

To spiderboy

good job

To spiderboy

the paintball grenades you will find on your desk tomorrow are not from me. the glitter is totally from me.

To spiderboy

tar and feather him kid

From 54985-466-8653

Tony. Are you there?

"You look worn down Tony," Rhodes says from his place at the beam when Tony comes into the complex, jacket already lost somewhere. Vision is standing near enough in case he needs to help Rhodey, but after a few iterations on the exoskeleton, he's steadier on his feet.

Tony's smile is a fleeting twist of the lips at the sight of Rhodey standing, Rhodey moving. "Only you would know Rhodey."

He grabs a discarded tablet and sits on the conveniently placed couch near the new workout room. With a few swipes, the device is projecting a mini version of the exoskeleton Rhodey is currently wearing. After placing the tablet on the ground so he can manipulate image he duplicates the prototype design with a flick of his wrist before sliding the original away. "FRIDAY," he calls. "Save any changes done here as the Mark 17."

"Yes boss," she affirms.

Tony watches Rhodey out of the corner of his eye, see the struggles Rhodey has as he adjusts the level of support the skeleton gives him. He expands out the design, focusing on moving the support module higher up and easier to grip but still sleek enough to not look clunky. He adjusts some of the lines, thins the metal used. Maybe there is light weight solution that doesn't look as alien as the current version.

Maybe there is a way he can simplify it down to a way where it can slip under the clothes for users. Looking like an accessory instead of a crucial piece to the lives of some people.

Rhodey still looks exhausted using it, and his steps get clunkier. There has to be a way to auto adjust the support. But that requires motors similar to his boots. Or is this even something in the legs? Maybe this is something with the chip communicating with the exoskeleton.

Tony sketches a note to take a look at the data coming back from the chip and if there is anything he and Fry missed in the initial account for output. Or if there is any data he's not taking into account from the chip itself. He knows he forgot about the pain inputs and monitoring that. He needs to keep an eye to make sure Rhodey isn't pushing himself too hard. Users family members, doctors and therapists would probably like that information as well, so he should definitely get that method in and stored...somewhere. Privacy settings too. Don't want to make the any one feel more helpless. He knows that feeling too well.

The couch dips, and Rhodey hisses. "Never thought learning to walk would suck this much."

"It's why we forget it the first time. Too traumatic," Tony counters softly.

He adds an additional note beneath that to check on the security protocols for the chip and see what, if any, attempted hacks have been made today. Leaning back, he sets the design to spin as he looks at it, checking for immediate failures. He notes a few points to test, knows Rhodey is quietly watching him, Vision is still drifting in near vicinity, but idle in his perusing of the situation.

"FRIDAY, test feasibility, and make any necessary changes to the design before you start manufacturing. Add reminders about the notes for me. Also, take a look at the data the chip is getting. I think we're missing something, just don't know what," he calls.

The hologram flickers for a moment as she takes actively control of it, and Tony makes a note to fix that issue. Can't have a new tablet doing something like that before it hits the production cycle. "Got it. Standard notification procedures?" she queries.

"Yeah. Thanks girl," he replies, picking up the tablet and already making the motions to turn it off. He tosses it to the non Rhodey occupied side of the couch and turns. "Any issues honey bear?"

Rhodey's eyes crinkle a little bit. "Not any to report, like there weren't any issues with the last versions, all sixteen of them apparently."

Tony falls back against the couch, "You definitely had an issue with round one. They jerked like no one's business. I distinctly remember bitching."

"That was you Tony. Not me."

"Oh," Tony mutters, "Maybe that was me. Sounds like me anyway."

He stares up at the ceiling and wonders how much longer he has to be down here. Pretending before he heads down and works on Mark 17, the new tablet specs that RD sent up that are clearly shit based on the prototype he was using, and there is some paperwork Pepper had expedited over, a team of lawyers he has a conference all with in a few hours to check on the Accords strategy, and maybe some tinkering on a few ideas Peter has sent him an email about.

"That's fast work for a month since I got out of recovery Tony," Rhodey muses after a moment.

Tony shrugs. "I had some in the pipeline in case."

Rhodey sits up, a wince on his face. He's definitely in pain, and probably refusing to take his pain meds. Tony knows not to fight him on that any more. "When did you start these? After Manhattan?"

Maybe he could ask DUMMY to bring up a bottle of whiskey, some ice and glass. But he would probably accidentally add some motor oil it and no one needs to be back in the hospital this week. Vision can't take it. "About the time you went to basic," he answers.

There is a sharp intake from beside him. "Tony."

"I come up with the best solutions when I am close to the situation," he replies. "That's what Obie always said."

"Tony, you weren't imaging multiple scenarios where I didn't come back whole, were you?" Rhodey's voice...all Tony can remember is the time when he called Rhodey after the whole Obie situation was over. The tone is the same as when Tony had said, Obie was the one who had me kidnapped and then I killed him and he had said, Tony, it's me. It's okay. You had to. If it's ever you versus anyone, I need you to make it out, okay?

"138 missions is a lot of time to think," Tony mused.

A hand curls around his shoulders, and they stay there for a while both staring into nothing. Vision drifts in and stands in the doorway, keeping watch even though there is no chance of interruptions in the silent building.

From: avengerslegalteam

CC: avengersprteam

We have our strategy for getting project aftermath ready. Shall we proceed?

To: avengerslegalteam; avengersprteam

Yes.

"Jarvis," he asks, so young and fragile. He doesn't know what his life is going to be like, how he is going to disappoint everyone. How he is going to disappoint himself.

"Yes Master Anthony?" Oh Jarvis. He had forgotten how Jarvis looked. Impossibly tall, kind eyes, grey and wrinkled, but like comfort, like home.

Tiny him adjusts his grip on the screwdriver in his hands and looks down to the circuit board in his hand. "What are the parameters necessary to make someone a friend?"

He never looked the first time, but somehow he had to have tracked it or BARF is filling in the gaps - it's probably filling in the gaps, but Jarvis always cared more than any Stark deserved. But Jarvis puts down the dish he was cleaning, and bends down. "There are no parameters," Jarvis says. "You simply be yourself."

"How do you maintain a friendship?" he asks. "Is there daily maintenance and certain standards to make sure everything is working as it should."

Something flitters across Jarvis' face. "I do not believe you like it when I say, you simply be yourself, " he muses, taking note when Tony nods. "Let's take an example to explain. With Miss Carter, I lend a hand when she asks. I ask about her day and listen when she wants to speak. But there are moments where I read the newspaper, and she peruses a casefile at the breakfast table. Does the fact that we aren't speaking mean we aren't friends?"

Young Tony tilts his head, "Friendship seems to be something that either is or isn't. There is no passive state of friendship."

"Correct Master Tony," Jarvis beams. "We are still friends occupying the same space or not. She is a person I care about greatly even when she isn't present in the moment."

"Oh," Tiny Tony hums, turning the thought over in his head. "That makes sense."

"Have you made a friend?" Jarvis asks, hopeful. Older Tony, current Tony, feels his chest tighten at the expression. Jarvis had always has such a hopeful optimism when it came to Tony's future and what he would become one day. He wonders if Jarvis still has one, watching from up there.

He wonders if he has broken Jarvis' heart again.

"No," Tony responds, "But I wanted to know what to expect when it did happen. I wanted to make sure I was prepared for the challenge."

"Being a friend isn't a challenge," Jarvis says. "You simply are."

Tony shrugs, "Still. I want to make sure I can fulfill all the requirements."

Jarvis straightens, a smile on his lips. "You will perform admirably as always Master Anthony. Now, you should go finish working on your project while I finish the dishes. We wouldn't want Mrs. Jarvis to find me behind on my chores."

Tony beams back and turns back to the table where he was fiddling with what would eventually be a voice recording device.

There is a pause, and older Tony influences the scene with the barely a whisper of a thought. "Jarvis," he looks back up. "You're my friend, right?"

Jarvis looks back, and Tony can see a glimpse of the older Jarvis in his smile, the one who survived Howard and Maria and even Ana. "We're more than that Master Anthony."

"FRIDAY end the simulation." The old mansion's dark outside the window as he sits down at that tiny table in a dated, yet tasteful kitchen.

There are few things Tony remembers about his mother these days, but he remembers how she and Ana used to sit around this table, whiskey glasses in hand and bursting into peals of laughter every while or so. Sometimes Aunt Peg was there, bright lips curled as she mentioned some story about Jarvis or Howard. Mostly Howard.

Jarvis would putter around, nervously watching the women in his life bond. Howard would have a cigarette in his mouth, a drink in hand and look up every once in awhile from his sketches strewn across the coffee table, his eyes soft and fond.

Tony sat in his mother's lap, a glass of milk to match theirs in the beginning. He always thought these were the best nights. The ones where all his family was in one room.

He looks around the empty living room and knows he won't be able to find that again.

From bruceybear

Tony what the hell happened

To bruceybear

we needed rules so we could color inside the line instead of outside of it. we needed to figure this shit out so it wouldn't be enforced on us and I tried

From bruceybear

Tony how much have you had to drink tonight

To bruceybear

Nothing

From bruceybear

Tony are you okay?

To bruceybear

no

From bruceybear

I'm coming

To bruceybear

no no no no don't do that for me. don't come back for me.

From bruceybear

I'll be there in 3 days. Tower?

To bruceybear

yeah.

thanks.

From 54985-466-8653

Tony. I'm sorry.