Hi hi~~

Okay, omg I've wanted to do something like this for like, ages!

Twins! Identity porn! TWINS!

"You're Ironman."

Avengers' resident billionaire dropped his screwdriver. "I'm.." The man's eyes are wide and startled at the unexpected accusation from their resident female super spy. "Excuse me?"

Natasha narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side, "You should really come clean." Is all she replies with, and its comes out much nicer and assuring than they both expect it to be, "No one is going to be upset."

He furrowed his brows, confused, "Um, well that's all very nice and all but I'm not Ironman."

The redhead shook her head, "Stark, I won't tell anyone if you're not ready, but don't even try that bullshit on me." She turns on the sad, serious eyes on him. He wouldn't call them puppy dog eyes, per say, too dangerous to describe someone like her, more like the eyes of a betrayed knife-wielding ninja cat. Yeah, let's go with that.

The genius put his hands up in surrender, "I'm serious Ms Romanoff! I'm not Ironman! Just a plain old boring everyday run of the mill every day billionaire!"

Natasha's eyes glinted in the exact way the Stark genius knew meant knives would be coming up soon. He shuffled nervously closer to his workshop desk and wondered briefly why he hadn't thought of designing an anti-knife force field or something. That would have been awesome to have right about now. "Now Ms Romanoff," he tries, "why don't we just take a deep breath and-"

"Nat please stop harassing Mr Stark." The metallic voice of Ironman spoke up amusedly. Now it was the spy's turn to drop something.

She whirls around to see Ironman leaning against the doorway, giving her a little wave as her eyes widened. "As much as I'm flattered you think I'm secretly a genius billionaire, Mr Stark's ass could hardly fit into my armor."

Anton Stark squawked in outrage, "Are you calling my perfectly sculpted ass fat you unappreciative, overpaid toaster?"

Ironman tilted his head, pretending to check the man out, "Sculpted is right." He jeered provokingly, "No fat, only bone is what I see sir."

"Just because I don't have a porno bubble butt like yours-" Anton spluttered, deeply offended, before glancing at a rather baffled looking super spy. "-uh, Miss Romanoff? Are you quite alright?"

"But, how?" She asks, her face is blank, her tone is dead but yet both Starks could somehow feel her shock. Clearly she doesn't get things wrong often.

Oh dear lord if she ever finds out the truth one of them will probably have to die.

"I mean... I did fly the suit during Afghanistan." Stark tries to console.

"He also built his own suit for emergencies." Ironman adds drolly, it sounds even drier in the suit, "So you can be forgiven for making the um, misconception."

The last Stark heir inwardly groans and makes a 'what the fuck' face at Ironman. You do not outright tell a woman is mistaken. Especially if that woman is the Black Widow. That is just pleading for a widow bite in the face.

And they have been born fucking lucky to have faces as pretty as they are.

Natasha looks at both of them, eyes narrowed, pinning, reassessing. "This isn't over." She suddenly says, before turning her heel and leaving the lab.

The doors to the workshop close with a soft 'snick' sound and they wait a minute or so before talking.

"... So, that was pretty close." Ironman says, and the other doubled over in laughter.

"Oh my god," He gasped, "She thought, that we were, and you were,"

"To be fair, she wasn't exactly wrong." Ironman replies but the other could tell the hero was this close to losing it as well.

They both stare at each other.

"Scotch?" Tony Stark offers as he lifts the head plate up.

"You read my mind." Anton Stark smirks.

It starts like this.

Howard Stark was frankly overjoyed when he heard the unexpected news. He had barrelled into the room with a wide grin and zoned onto his tired wife and the bundles in her arms like one of his recently created homing missiles. Howard's always prided himself in his plans and blueprints and failsafes, but he had never foreseen this.

Not one but two. Two babies. Two boys. Two heirs.

"What should we call the other one?" Maria asks softly, she cradles Anthony Edward Stark in her arms as a nurse gently plucks out the other one to hand to the awestruck new father. Howard looks at the tiny squishy human he had helped make and feels pride. They will be his greatest creations.

"Antonio." He finally decides, "You'll be Antonio Steven Stark."

...

Tony and Anton Stark were identical only in face.

Tony was the oldest, he was the genius, the polite, shy, quiet one that liked to tinker and ask questions. Anton was the youngest, the smart-mouth, the confident loud firecracker that liked trouble and explosions. But it wasn't like they hadn't also had their share of similarities too. They were both bright, intelligent little boys that shared the same burning curiosity in their veins, the same hero worship of Captain America and the same need to please their father.

They also had the same problem of their father consistently being disappointed at them. The same shadow of some hero they could never possibly hope to be.

Tony was too quiet, too shy, too sensitive, he needed to man up like his brother. Stark men were made of iron. They do not cry Tony.

Anton wasn't as smart or clever with his hands as his brother, he had words but nothing to back them up. Stark men were made of iron. They do not lose Anton.

Captain America would be disappointed in both of them. That was also another thing they had in common.

They would have been better as one person. Two halves so dependent on each other that they were visibly worse off without their counterpart to ground them. So Anton taught Tony how to lie, how to own the room and how to make it till you break it, he taught him to fake confidence, to bluster and to roll the insults off his skin like water. And in turn Tony taught Anton how he made his circuit board when he was four and his first engine when he was six, he taught him how to draw blueprints properly, how to tell a piece of code from a piece of garbage and how to step down when you go too far.

That was another thing they shared.

Each other.

It's impossible for anyone to tell who's who between the Stark twins save for the twins themselves. They smile the same way and they chatter with the same bright, polite manner and they even move in perfect sync when they want to.

Maria used to be able to tell them apart, before they decided to change themselves, to become a better whole. Howard stopped trying altogether, if one was in trouble both were in trouble as far as he was concerned. Jarvis and his wife Ana was the best at figuring out though. They weren't perfect what with their age and failing eyesight but the couple tried and gave it as good as they got. It was more than they'd ever gotten from anyone else at least.

But behind closed bedroom doors, they were no longer the charming Stark twins. It was just Tony who hated galas and wanted to read his newest Captain America comic book and Anton who cackled incessantly about how he had managed to pour a whole cup of wine in some snooty lady's purse when she wasn't looking. Anton would regale Tony about all the interesting gossip he'd managed to overhear while Tony half listened as he read. Then Tony would point out something interesting in his book which would turn the conversation to more interesting debates like if Captain America would defeat Darth Vader in battle or which theory for time travel is better. And if they had a really bad day, they would curl up in the same bed together and whisper their secrets and worries and doubts before they finally went to sleep.

Tony and Anton never really cared if no one could distinguish the pair, if anything it was just another thing they knew more about then the rest of the world. Their own little secret which was only known by the two.

When Tony was fifteen he had already been accepted into MIT. When Anton was fifteen, he had already had sex twice.

It wasn't clear what achievements Howard was least impressed with.

When Anton was seventeen he was accepted into MIT to pursue business, engineering and marketing. He was already one of the most popular kids there. When Tony was seventeen he was already working on his third doctorate and was playing with many other degrees. He had made exactly one friend and one robotic arm named DUM-E.

Howard had found fault in both of them.

When Tony was nineteen he graduated MIT. He asked to stay another year to help with research as an excuse not to leave his brother. It didn't work. When Anton was nineteen his first real scandal in the form of a sex tape came out. Well, it was his, but everyone thought it was Tony's. Anton felt guilt about the unwanted increase of attention toward his more introverted half and learned the idea of discretion.

Howard was too busy looking for a fantasy to care.

When Tony and Anton were twenty-one, their parents died in a car crash. They became the heads of Stark Industries overnight. They finished off six bottles of their father's most expensive bottles of alcohol that same night.

Howard, well, Howard was fucking dead.

They were a united front. Always together, never apart. From childhood, to adulthood save for those few years during college. They were stronger, smarter, better.

Anton would lead the press by the nose with a winning smile, a glass of scotch in one hand and his brother by his side, adding any technical jargon he'd missed. Tony would shine in his research and inventions, his own pride shown to the clients and his fellow scientists with his brother oozing in the real charm to smooth the path to a successful negotiation.

The public loved the whole together thing. The concept of rich genius playboy twins never seemed to grow old, and there was barely a photograph in any media that had the two by themselves. Anton, the Merchant of Death and his brother Tony, his Scythe Maker by his side. The offense and the defense. Always together, never apart.

Some people commented about their closeness. Accusations of incest and forbidden love that never seemed to go away no matter how much money was thrown at them. It didn't help that people kept claiming they've been invited up for a night as the meat in that Stark sandwich. And it really didn't help that at least half those claims had been true.

But still, Anton and Tony, Tony and Anton, they were two halves of the same handsome coin. Always together, never apart. They still enjoyed sleeping together at night, finding comfort in their touch, talking about the day everyday since no one else seemed to stand listening to them for as long, and just being in the same room as each other never failed to give them a sense of silent reassurance. Always together, never apart.

So it wasn't really a surprise when they ended up both in the same cell in Afghanistan.

"Oh god, oh god, shit, fuck, shit, Tony," Anton mutters under his breath, his hands are trembling violently as he helps some random stranger practically shove a car battery in his brother's chest. He's never been good with stuff like this, he went completely vegan for six months because he saw twenty minutes of one of those animal torture fast food documentaries. He would've gone longer but... Well.. Bacon.

The point of it was, Tony should be the one doing this. Tony should be the one alive and trying to stop the bleeding coming out from the fucking hole in his twin's chest. Not him. Not Anton. Because Tony could fix it. Anton... couldn't. He just, just...

"You did it." Tony congratulates weakly. He's still pale and shaken and constantly flickering his eyes downward to the mangled monstrosity that is his chest like he can't believe this is actually happening to him but he's alive and breathing and just alive. "Anton you did it."

"I mean, Ginseng helped too." Anton muttered because neither twin was very good at direct praises, but that doesn't stop the man from hovering around his brother worriedly as if the battery might suddenly self-combust for no logical reason.

"Thank you Ginseng." Tony replied quietly.

"It's Yinsen. And you need rest." The other man replies, "They'll be coming back to check on us soon."

"Tell me the truth doc," Tony whispered, "Will I ever be beautiful again?"

Anton snorted despite himself, "You moron. We share the same face."

"All hope is lost." The older twin despaired.

Anton waits until his brother finally loses consciousness once more before he lets himself breathe again. Tony is safe. He helped. He saved him. He almost didn't. Tony was safe. Tony barely made it. For a second he hadn't. For a second Anton almost lost the best thing he ever had. Oh god. Anton trembles as he runs to the corner of the cell and vomits what little contents in his stomach he has.

Tony was.. well 'not happy' was an understatement but it was all he could come up with as he finds himself stuck in a harsh cycle of building for terrorists, secretly building a way out, building a rapport with Yinsen and getting water boarded. Not that anyone else was faring much better. Anton, while not as fast as he, had a way with things that go boom, so both Starks had found themselves with possibly an even tighter deadline than if only one of them was useful. Maybe. Believe it or not but terrorists were kind of dicks.

The older Stark twin gasped for air desperately, thrashing as much as he could just to be able to get barely a lungful of much needed oxygen before once again he was pushed face first in the dirty water. Scratch that. They were total dicks.

"You sick fuck!" Anton screams at the sidelines. It's a thing the torturing bastards like to do, make one twin suffer while the other watches. It's a good strategy, Tony can admit, hurt one to make the other move faster. It's certainly successful, Anton was always a bit lazy with his own designs, and Tony's fairly sure that the gun prototype in his twin's hand would be done in record time. "You fuckers, I swear to, stop it! I'm done! Time!"

The Ten Rings asshole dunking him, pulled Tony's hair back painfully. Not that Tony could bring it in him to care when he had sweet, sweet oxygen-

"Glrblelblm!"

His face was pushed in unexpectedly, and water immediately filled his nose and mouth in his surprise. He was forced to stay there for what seemed like forever and a half before he was pushed back up. This time he was more wary with his freedom.

"That one was for good luck." The torturer jeered as he left the room, the guards replacing him in his stead. Anton was suddenly beside him, pale and furious. Someone must have unchained him from the table then.

"I hope he falls into a well." Anton hissed as he helps a shaking Tony up from the ground. Tony gave a weak laugh at that.

Anton just barely manages to carry Tony with him. Tony who had passed out from exhaustion at finishing the final touches of Anton's arbor, who had been unprotected and shot in the fight. There's sweat pouring into Anton's eyes, tears pouring out of his eyes, everything feels hot and close, too close.

They break out.

Yinsen didn't make it.

Just because they were twins, that didn't mean that they didn't fight. It doesn't happen often, after all they practically share everything with each other, however when they did, well. Let's just say no one wins in a war.

If pressed, the twins would say they've had four major fights. The first was about who stole the last cookie when they were eight. That lasted two weeks and was only resolved because Howard had called them babies who needed to grow the hell up.

The second was a fight on who Jarvis loved the best. It was a very Cold War type situation which lasted for most of childhood really. It finally ended after Tony and Anton drafted up a long and biding contract in metallic red pencil on the exact terms and agreement for Jarvis' custody when they were eleven. Jarvis had framed that piece of paper proudly on his bedroom wall, where it remains even after his death.

The third fight was about Rhodey. That one was brutal.

Rhodey was Tony's roommate in college. In less than two weeks, a roommate had become a friend and in a month, a friend had been elevated to best friend. The brother from another mother. Tony's grumpy giant honey bear.

Needless to say Anton loathed Rhodey at the time. He seethed every time Tony brought him up like a jealous lover and the first time the two ever met, Anton had straight out declared Rhodey as his arch-nemesis over brunch. Brunch.

Tony was less than impressed.

Scratch that he had been absolutely livid.

"I can't have friends but you can, is that it?!" He had shouted when Rhodey had left early.

"That guy is using you!" Anton hissed back. "He's probably trying to get into your underage pants and fuck the money out of our trust fund."

Tony reared back like he had been slapped. Anton quickly realized his mistake and tried to backtrack. "That's not what I- Tony, I didn't mean it like-"

"No. I see," Tony says icily, "Because I'm the twin with no personality, there's just no way anyone would actually want to be friends with me except to grab what's in my wallet." He laughs bitterly, "Oh wait, I forgot I'm also the smart one too- can't forget about that. People could want me for my brain too if I'm lucky enough."

"Tony." Anton looks devastated, every bit the younger brother that he never tries to be.

"No. No fuck you," Tony stands up from the table furiously, "I- I can't even look at you right now you asshole. I need to go check on Rhodey and see if I can salvage back my first ever real friend and then maybe we'll talk."

"Tony, wait don't-"

They didn't speak for half year. It was like torture. But pride was a terrible thing.

In the end it was Rhodey who intervened.

"Okay this is getting ridiculous." He says one morning. Tony had been staring forlornly at his phone again and it didn't take someone of Stark's IQ to know who he was thinking of calling. "I am not the handmaiden that the prince falls in love with and willingly gets cut off from their disapproving family before running off into the sunset to open up a diner in the woods."

"Is- is that a reference?" Tony asks, "Because I'm kind of hoping this is the one reference I didn't get, instead of the fact that clearly you've finally gotten a crippling addiction by watching too many soap operas on your laptop."

"One, fuck you, Love Me Sweetiebell is a classic-"

"I have literally never heard of that in my life."

"-and two, you are calling your brother. Even if he is kind of a massive dick."

Tony smiles weakly, "It's a family thing." He quips.

"Tony."

"I am not going to- hey what the fuck Rhodey, give it back!"

Rhodey had snatched Tony's phone the moment the younger man had pointed it dramatically at him, and ran. "Not a chance Tones!" He hollered as he furiously looks through Tony's contacts while getting chased circles around their dining table, "I'm not going to take another second o- did you really list Anton as 'The Twin with a Smaller Dick'?" The man shakes his head and hits the call button.

Anton will never admit anything but dislike for Rhodey. But he had been pathetically grateful for him at that time. And even more pathetically grateful when Rhodes, now a colonel, swoops in and saves them both from dying in the Afghanistan desert.

"Saving your asses is getting to be a full time job," Rhodey grins.

Anton gives him the finger before he passes out.

(The fourth fight was about Captain America. But more about that later.)

Pepper Potts was the best thing that's happened to the Stark twins.

Well, that's not entirely true. Coffee was probably the best thing to happened to the twins. And Jarvis. And Rhodey- though that was debatable for Anton. But Pepper was definitely up there.

She was pretty, and patient, and once she finally got a decent footing around the whole billionaire genius twin thing, she became the snarky badass in heels who took no shit. Tony loved her. Anton was in love with her.

"Wait. What?"

Anton shuffled his feet uncomfortably, which meant that Tony needed to put down the wrench and pull all focus onto his brother because nervous shuffling meant feelings, genuine ones too. "That wasn't what I meant." Anton backtracked. "I meant that I may have... emotions. Toward Pepper. That may or may not be slightly stronger than what I feel for one night stands."

"So what you're saying is that you've fallen arse over teakettle over Miss Potts." Tony translated easily and with a shit eating smile. Anton hates that smile.

"You are not allowed to sleep with British Kyle anymore. Seriously, yesterday was 'fancying a nice hot cuppa tea,' and today is 'arse over teakettle.' What next? Will I wake up tomorrow to find you pledging your alliance to the Queen and country? Because I will not stand for such patriotic betrayal." The younger twin groans, artfully deflecting the topic. He's always been skilled at that but unfortunately Tony has decided that now would be the time to muster up all his attention span into a laser like focus and proceeds to tease him for the rest of the week.

...

"What?" Anton asks. His voice is flat, restrained, which means he's this close to absolutely losing it.

Tony can't look at his brother's eyes and it hurts. For both of them. Afghanistan has broken them but what's the most unforgivable thing is that they weren't broken the same way. They are shattered mirrors with different cracks and it's like they can no longer look at each other and see their own faces anymore. Tony and Anton had always had contrasts but now it felt like they were completely separate colors. There's an armor that separates the two and that armor is Ironman.

"I said," The older twin clears his throat, "I don't want to be Tony Stark anymore." He looks at his twin, pleading, "I want to be Ironman, I want to be good. To do good things and help others for once in my life."

"We can do good things too," Anton replies angrily, "Billionaire playboy philanthropists, remember?!"

"Oh how could I forget?" Tony mocks harshly, all meekness gone and bitter self-hatred coloring his tone, "You think we can actually atone for the shit we've done by throwing money at it? I'm tired of making weapons Anton! I'm tired of being associated with war and death and building fucking bombs that are used to try and kill us with."

Anton sneered, "Then what do you want Tony, Huh? To go off and fly around and play hero in the suit- because that's not feasible! What about StarkIndustries? What about our stocks? What.." The younger twin takes a few deep breathes before looking into his brother's eyes, lost and so fucking mad and most of all betrayed, "What about me Tones?"

Tony pulled Anton in for a hug. "You moron." He says weary and fond as his younger counterpart immediately hugs him back. "As if I could leave your lazy ass alone. Look, I'm not saying I want to leave Anton, I just, I just don't know if I have the strength to keep up being Tony Stark anymore. This whole thing with the Ten Rings, and my heart, it's... I'm not as strong as you Anton."

"You are strong," Anton protests annoyed, but his voice sounds suspiciously choked. Not that Tony's doing much better. "You protected me from those bastards, if you hadn't decided to be such a stupid idiot and pretended to be me when I clearly didn't need the help-"

"They were going to torture you Anton, I just couldn't," Tony protested quietly, "I couldn't just sit there and watch them hurt you."

"But I had to." Anton sobbed. "I had to watch you Tony. It's, it's not fair! You just keep doing shit like that and you just keep getting hurt and now you want to be some fucking hero whose going to die."

"Gee, thanks for the confidence bro." Tony deadpanned but his dry wit was ruined by the wet tears running down his face.

"You are going to die!" Anton wailed, its dramatic as fuck but it's a hundred percent genuine fear in there so Tony just hugs his brother tighter. He feels worn as he looks at his sobbing younger brother. Worn and exhausted and far too frayed around the edges but this decision feels right, it settles on him like the armor and Tony knows he will not back down on this.

He's going to be Ironman.

They make it work. They always do.

Anton Stark dies in Afghanistan. Anton Stark becomes Tony Stark. Tony Stark becomes Ironman. It's brilliant.

Rhodey and Pepper do not agree.

"Okay, hold up," Rhodey says for the nth time. Pepper looks close to stabbing everyone with her heels. "I get that Tony wants to, uh, stop being Tony. I mean, I don't actually get it but Tony promised to explain that mess to me later."

Tony fiddled with his hands awkwardly. "Promise, more like forced to agree under duress." He mutters snidely, because if there's one thing the Starks all have, other than amazing intellect, it's the inherent need to avoid all gooey emotions when possible.

"What was that?" Rhodey asked with faux sweetness, "Did I hear something?"

"Nothing!" Tony eeped before frantically fiddling with his fingers like they were the puzzle to unlock the secrets of Atlantis. Anton side eyed his brother suspiciously, whatever the other man had on Tony clearly was embarrassing enough that he didn't know about. Because Tony may be the shy one but that's like saying a house fire is not as hot as a bushfire. The man is still pretty shameless is all he's saying.

"But what I don't get," Rhodey continues, "is why you," he points at Anton, "have to be him." Points back to Tony, like somehow the concept was so hard to understand they needed visual cues.

"It makes sense." Tony sulks, and now it was Pepper's turn to burst. Which was bad. Because Rhodes may have military training, but Pep holds StarkIndustries by the balls- figuratively. And maybe a little literally.

"How does it make sense?!" She shouts. "Are you two high?! You want to fake your own death," And there's the pointing again. "Then pretend to be your brother who is the one actually pretending to be dead, just so he can go around shooting terrorists?!" Anton tries very hard not to roll his eyes, they've explained themselves twice already, there was no need to do a step by step hysterical commentary on the game plan. Tony must have caught sight of his suffering expression because now the older twin was trying equally as hard to suppress his snickers.

It felt... nice. Like the old days.

"Anton's a better liar." Tony explains. Again. "He'll do the whole mourning schtick better than I ever could."

"And I couldn't be myself because everyone knows I'm a genius, but I'm about a level and a half lower than Tony." Anton adds, "It would be much more convincing if it was Tony designing the armor instead of me."

"Ironman's identity would be a secret between us so no one could target you guys as well," Tony tacks on enthusiastically, his face, usually so worn down since Afghanistan, even before that really, was earnestly bright and smiling. Anton personally would have been a bit more elaborate, pressing that argument with multiple scenarios where Pepper and Rhodey, even Happy, could be in danger because of them.

Tony oversimplified, as he tends to do in matters like this. It's always straight to 'You're wrong' without explaining why, or 'This way is better' without being bothered to justify unless prompted. His brain moves too fast to consider social niceties most of the time, but it was also sometimes too fast to express anything but his own genuine emotions.

Usually a weakness in business but for some baffling reason it was a strength with friends.

Neither Anton nor Tony understood it well, they just knew that it's effective. And it still is if the way Rhodey slumps over, defeated and annoyed is any indication. Pepper too looks like she's faltering, so Anton steps up his game as well. Rhodey is easy when it comes to Tony, Pepper is far less willing to jump into their shenanigans. It's partly why Anton adores her.

"Think about it Pep," Anton wheedles, "Sure the plan is a little convoluted," Pepper snorts, "But think of the benefits, you get to wrangle up only one of us instead of both of us for meetings- and how great would that be? I like the stuff on business and PR, and Tony wouldn't sulk his way through every single meeting."

"I don't sulk every single meeting." Tony sulked.

"Just the ones that aren't on R&D." Pepper muttered but she did look at Anton thoughtfully, "Which is ninety percent of them."

"Tony would become more productive now that he has more time in the lab," Anton adds, "and we've agreed we won't completely shut down our weapons industry." He looks at his twin who stares back solemnly. They've fought about this, Tony being more insistent on shutting everything down altogether, but Anton knew how the public, their stockholders, would react if they quit cold turkey. So they compromised, "Instead we'll just focus on non-lethal products like body armor, and stun guns etcetera, while also branching further into clean energy, biotechnology, medicine."

"We create to protect, to be safe." Tony murmured, "We'll still temporarily shut down everything, get the hand of the law to join forces with us for some internal cleaning and externally..." The twins shared a glance and grinned, fierce, determined and maybe a touch mad, "Well, that's what Ironman is for."

Obie was... he was the cool uncle they always had. He let them into a boardroom meeting once, he listened to their ramblings and ideas, he even once asked to use one of their designs as a product to be marketed. Tony liked Obie a lot. But Anton, Anton looked up to him.

While Tony tinkered on his projects and clung to his childhood idol Captain America, Anton had moved onto admiring real role models in his life and learning how to sell ice to Eskimos with Obie. Sometimes Tony found himself jealous at Anton's close relationship with the man, maybe even resentful when he was left behind with a father who barely looks his way and a mother whose never there, just so Anton can get all Obie's attention.

Anton was always better with his emotions. He'd gotten over trying to bend backwards for Howard first. He'd gotten over trying to get Maria to stay with them more often faster. And, something that Tony found immensely unfair, he'd gotten over Captain America. Tony was a hoarder but Anton always liked to cut the fat when he could.

So when Obie became Stane by ripping out Tony's robot heart, Tony couldn't help but wonder if the irony or metaphor or whatever messed up thing it was here, was more relevant to him or his brother, who watches, paralysed in a corner with tears in his eyes.

Maybe in a different universe Tony only had one copy of the new arc reactor and was forced to use his original one in the fight against Stane. But that was in a universe where Tony was alone and had to fight to juggle the press, the company, and Ironman, alone.

In this universe, Tony teaches Anton to create another arc reactor, because Tony always teaches Anton whenever he learns something new, and that is the reactor they use when Tony suits up to fight Stane.

Tony fights with Anton's work powering his heart and he thinks how right it feels.

Maybe alone Stane might've overpowered him. But together, he has no chance.

Stane falls.

They've won.

"I've seen the papers. I've heard the reports. That's why I want to put an end to all this wild speculation. The truth is-"

Anton makes a sweeping gesture to his right and the crowd of reporters gasp as Ironman flies down to his side. Tony in the suit waves and they all go wild.

"This is Ironman."