OMGEEEEE, THIS IS SOOO SAD D: I think this is the LAST chapter! Awh, I was so loving it. I'm so sad to see it end D:

"Well, you're all set to go. Just be more careful next time you're off inventing something." The doctor explained, patting Tony on the back. Tony smiled politely and walked out of the hospital with his friends. Obvious band-aid across his neck where the large gash was hiding. Tony wrapped his arm around Pepper's shoulders as they exited the hospital doors into the cool spring city air. Tony breathed in the scent of NYC as to get used to it once more. He looked around as they walked down the street and saw many familiar places that he remembered from his childhood; the building where his mother used to work, the supermarket where he used to get groceries with his family, and many more places. The city of his childhood, and he could bear to look. He was curious as to what Chloe was doing now.

"I think I'm going to get to work." Tony immediately threw himself into his usual routine of work as they arrived at the armory. Pepper sighed and responded to her father's text message.

"Well, I have to get home. See you later, Tony." Pepper said as she walked out of the armory.

"Yeah, I have to start my homework." Rhodey followed Pepper out. He knew that Tony just needed his space, and it would only take a matter of alone time for him to get back to normal. In other words, Tony was just being Tony. Now that everyone had left, leaving Tony to his work, it was quiet in the armory. It was just Tony and his work; which, of course, he was burying himself in. It was the comfort to his problems, and it was the way he forgot his teenage issues when the pressures of high school just got to his head.

"What's up, workaholic?" Tony looked up to see the blonde-haired girl leaning against a wall near the door. He put down his tools and walked closer to Chloe.

"What are you doing here?" Tony asked, trying to sound like he didn't have any emotion at all. Chloe removed herself from the wall and stood in front of Tony.

"So they let you out of the hus-cow, huh?" Chloe smirked, crossing her arms. Tony walked over to his computer, pretending to be busy.

"It's not that bad," Tony said, not knowing what else to say.

"Trust me. From what I've seen, it is." Chloe leaned against the wall closer to Tony, watching him work.

"So, what are you going to do now? I'm sure the police want you big time." Tony asked, not looking up from the screen. Chloe was silent for a moment, then sighed.

"Oh, I don't think they'll be getting me," Tony looked up at Chloe, confused.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited me." Chloe explained. Tony folded his arms and stared at her.

"What about school?" He asked.

"Dropping out. Apparently I don't need it." Chloe smirked. It was something that she could be happy about, after all; no snooty kids to ignore anymore.

"Well…good for you." Tony offered. He honestly didn't have anything more to say to her other than what he wanted to say next. Chloe raised an eyebrow.

"Chloe, I…I know this sounds weird, but, you're the first person I've met that knows what it's like to lose a family. I don't want to never see you again." Chloe didn't want to be hearing what she was hearing. They were silent a moment.

"I don't want to get in the way of you and her. You're meant for her, Tony." Tony pretended to look confused, even though he knew what she was talking about, "...and you know who I'm talking about."

"I see it, in the way you look at her...in the way, you smile at her and she...she swoons," Chloe stopped; it hurt her to know she was starting to really like him but know that he was destined for someone who's not her. The room was silent. Chloe saw the expression of high confusion on Tony's face.

"Look, tony, I know where I belong and I know it's not here. I'm needed in other places; I don't want anyone to grow that close to me. I know what I want, and it's not to stay here with you. I'm sorry."

"But...but it's not like that, I don't like you that way. You can still stay, as a friend, we can all be friends!" Tony begged.
"If it's spilling your secret you're worried about, then don't be. I can keep my mouth shut." Chloe said boredly as she started to walk out.

"Bye, Tony..." Chloe exited. Upon her quiet exit, Pepper entered.

"Are you okay? You look a little sad." pepper asked.
"Naw, I'm okay. Chloe was just saying goodbye." Tony explained as he looked into Pepper's brown eyes and forgot his sorrows.
"Goodbye? Where's she going?" Pepper was highly confused.

"Working for S.H.I.E.L.D." Tony explained. Pepper looked dumbfounded.

"No way, we could be coworkers someday!" Pepper exclaimed excitedly. Tony rolled his eyes in amusement as the room grew silent once more. Tony looked to his feet a moment then into Pepper's eyes, remembering what Chloe had told him earlier. The way she…swoons.

"I love you." Pepper smiled.

"I love you too, Tony. Nothing will ever change that." Pepper gave him a hug. Tony pulled her off of him, keeping his hands on her shoulders. He stared at her a moment, then thrust his lips unto hers with passion. It was a long, forever moment in their world that was a mere minute in reality.

"I'll never let you go." Tony rested his arm around Pepper's waist.

~...~

Miles outside of the city, basically hours outside the city in a small, quiet town in the suburbs, rested a small prison. It wasn't small to the citizens of the town, all prisons were large to them; compared to the other prisons in the country, it was small. It held mostly lawbreakers that resided in the town; there were a few that there was no room for in prisons in other towns that got transferred here for the rest of their sentence. It was a prison of high security, contrary to its size. Guards patrolled every nook and cranny of the place at every hour of the day and night. It was heavily protected, and due to such guarding, rarely had riots or lash outs.

The prison was also equally organized. The prisoners were separated by what they were being convicted for; the system of cell mates was also organized by a careful observation of who acts least violent or dangerous around whom else, and making hypotheses from those careful observations, were mated accordingly. Breakfasts, lunches and dinners were run very calmly and organized. The prisoners were let out one row of cells at a time, one section at a time. Those who had to wait were to wait patiently. Those who were released were to form a line in the cafeteria in a calm and orderly fashion (they were surrounded heavily by guards, who were to make sure no violence ensued) and were to eat their meals in silence.

Their hour for recreation was at the same time each day. They were approached, asked if they'd like to go outside for an hour today or stay inside and participate in school work or career work-or whatever else they had to work on, such as arts and crafts or other activities-and were to calmly answer. Those were the sterile inmates. Those were the ones that learned to follow the rules they were given over hard time in prison. That wasn't the D ward. The D ward was where the dangerous inmates went. The ones that were convicted for murder, the ones who held a grudge and were too violent to be around other inmates; on some occasions, they couldn't be around anyone at all. The D ward was miles outside of town, where no one could hear the shouts of anger and the yelling of the violent inmates who could disturb anyone surrounding prison walls just with their voice; but that wasn't the fullest extent of their violence.

That's where he was.

At the end of a dark, damp and slightly moldy prison hallway in the D ward sat the prison cell of a mysterious man who spent his days sitting in the dark corner of the cell. No matter how many different times or ways he was approached, no matter what he was asked, he would just grunt and continue sharpening his knife on a piece of scrap metal that he'd stolen from the arts and crafts center back when he wasn't moved to the D ward. The screeching sound of the knife against the metal didn't seem to irritate him in any way, but anyone who passed by his cell would have a better time crossing the cell wearing headphones to drown out the sound. He seemed to enjoy it, so they left him to it. The prison guards figured it was better not to anger him and just let him be; as long as he wasn't hurting anyone.

His eyes were pointed down towards the ground, at his work, and because of that they appeared to be closed most of the time (even though everyone knew darn well that he never closed his eyes for more than the millisecond it took to blink). Because of this, when he did look up it was a surprise to everyone. It seemed to attract him that his dinner was being served to him for once in his sentence, because it hadn't caused him to look up at anyone before. For the first time since he'd been at the D ward, he set down his knife and piece of metal (that by now was starting to look widdled down like a piece of wood) and looked at the tray of food sitting on the prison cell's floor. Studying the meal of slop for only a moment, he picked up the tray and brought it back to his seat in the dark corner. He stuck his finger into the slop and slid the dirtied-slop finger over the wall in the shape of a letter. He stuck his finger back in the slop and repeated his movement several times. The guard watched his movements closely as he walked up and down the hallway, passing his co-worker every time he approached the middle of the hallway.

When the guard came back to the end of the hallway, he looked inside the strange man's cell to see him sitting in his corner with an interestingly sly smile below his bright, open eyes and saw behind his head to see a message written on the wall that read: So Long, Suckers. The prison guard stopped patrolling and waved his co-worker over in worry. Before the other guard could approach the curious guard's side to see what he was worried about, the prison guard in front of the man's jail cell was laying on the floor in a pile of blood slowly spilling from his chest, dead. The remaining prison guard ran to his co-worker's side to see that the jail cell was empty. Panicking, he called for help as he listened to the loud siren go off all over the courtyard.

Permission to slap me for ending a story on a cliffhanger: granted. But I promise, that was the last chapter of this story. I know, I know, I'm sad to see it go too. I loved working on this story, it got so interesting at every turn and I actually made it last longer than my other stories usually last. So, review!