This Iron Man story is a piece of fan fiction which occurs between the Volume 3 issues, Iron Man 25 and Iron Man 26. It is meant to be an alternate retelling of Joe Quesada's Mask in the Iron Man story, an originally nice idea executed in a fashion which made it unpopular amongst many groups of Iron Fans. Those groups include me, as I was determined to, with nothing more than my brain and my word processor, create a better variant that would be more detailed, more epic in scale, and more faithful to the Iron Mythos. Whether or not I have succeeded in doing this is up to you, the reader.

Before we begin, I would like to heartily thank the people who have helped me with brainstorming, feedback, and moral support, in the preparation for writing this and other fan fics I have done. Special thanks go out to Steve Sellers, who did extensive brainstorming with me in the HeroRealm.com chats, and my personal hero Matthew Malek, who inspired me to do this with his Alternate Iron site. And very special thanks go out to Joe Quesada, who came up with the idea of a living Iron Man armor, even if I didn't care for his version.

IRON MAN 1/2: RUST
An Iron Man Fanfiction Saga By Neil Iron Nitz Kapit

Mr. Stark, please talk to me. You've been in therapy for three days so far, and you haven't uttered a single word. I have devoted much of my adult life to helping those of the superhuman elite, and the Avengers graciously requested for my services on you.......but it will all be for naught if you do not want to be helped. Mr. Stark......TONY.....please talk to me.

Even if Doctor Leonard Samson were not over six and a half feet in height, his patient would still look meek.

The doctor had received a special contact from the Avengers, the self-styled Earth's Mightiest Heroes . They'd heard of his groundbreaking work with the psychological Gordian Knot that was the Hulk, and they figured that a therapist with so much experience with the superhuman psyche was needed. They told him of their benefactor and friend, Tony Stark, who had been under such pressuring circumstances that he would shatter without the help of a specialist. And when the doctor graciously accepted the Avengers' fee and visited his patient, he could see that nothing they had said was an understatement in the least.

For the three days Doctor Leonard Samson had been visiting with Anthony Edward Stark, Stark had just slumped down in his chair, looking at his briefcase. He didn't utter a single word, only responding to Samsons' queries through gestures. He just sat, leaning his head down, looking at the suede attaché case he carried with him everywhere.

Looking at Stark, Samson could clearly see that something was wrong with the man. He looked ravaged by both outside forces and himself-- he had a very thick, scruffy beard, as though he hadn't shaved in months. His face had several small scars on it, with a long, white bandage covering his seemingly broken nose. And though Samson knew that Stark was worth billions of dollars, he wore rather cheap clothes, including an extensively worn out tuxedo, and a stained brown trenchcoat. Samson had heard Stark's name on the headlines of the newspapers and on every news channel, and he could easily that the major events involving Stark and his bodyguard Iron Man had at least something to do with Stark's mental state. But he did not know all, or even some, of the details, only the hype the news media gave.

Tony Stark was one of the most mysterious men on Earth. Samson knew the basics about Stark's role on Earth-- Stark was one of the greatest inventors of the 20th century. He had created the technological armor which empowered the late superhero Iron Man. He had established several companies on the cutting edge of technology, and had many contacts in the government, but abandoned them all for reasons unknown to the world at large. He was a suave playboy who constantly appeared in the world of high society, but never committed to any one person. Stark was the equivalent of a modern day Howard Hughes, with Hughes' intellect and charm. And, quite possibly, Hughes' problems. But all Samson had to go on was guesswork, and his conjectures could not do much more.

Mr. Stark, Samson said with more than a twinge of irritation in your voice, If you don't want to be helped, then I am wasting my time. Your friends in the Avengers paid generously for my services, but if you do not respond, I might as well leave, and pay them back. Which is a shame, as I could use new clothing, and tailoring to fit me is quite costly.

Samson started to get up, his massive arms almost damaging the chair he sat in as he elevated himself, but without warning, Stark said flatly, Wait.

Excuse me?

Tony Stark continued to look down, but now his hands were moving. He danced his fingers across a complex series of miniature buttons on his attaché case, and in less than a single second, the top part of the case released, with miniature hydraulics forcing it up. Inside, several pieces of metal were neatly organized. Thin, metallic red and gold pieces of metal, shaped to fit the contours of the human body. Pieces of Iron Man's famed armor.

Since I have little meaning left in my life, Tony Stark said uneasily, I might as well tell you secrets I have spent years guarding. This.....this THING......has been something I, Anthony Edward Stark, have worn for years.

Leonard Samson backed into his chair quickly, his green ponytail shaking as though it was startled. With his eyes widening, Samson looked at Stark intently.

Standing up Stark held the mask of the armor in the palm of his hand, looking at it hesitantly. He continued talking, gaining a little more confidence in his words as he continued.

For over a decade, I have devoted my life to this armor. I have spent billions of dollars and thousands of hours revising it, and evolving it. I have worn it as though it was an extension of myself, pitting the suit and myself against any enemies I might find, from the lowliest thug to beings beyond mortal comprehension. And I have almost religiously guarded the technology within, making sure that nobody but me wield such power. In little over a decade, this armor has gone from a bulky gray transistorized shell, to a glittering crimson and gold mesh of nanotech components. It represents the culmination of my entire adult life. It represents my greatest success......

Pausing, Tony Stark winced, as though he was punched in the stomach. And, in recent months, my greatest FAILURE.

Doctor Leonard Samson picked up a pad of note paper and a pen, and quickly began scribbling down everything Tony said. We have much to talk about, it seems.

Tony Stark nodded, and started to continue.

NEXT: IRON MAN 26