If Tony was exhausted earlier in the evening, he's dead on his feet, now. Leaning against the wall, watching, but probably not seeing all that much in the dark room, wouldn't look so bad if he wasn't so damned pale.

"Ready?"

Tony nods, straightening off the wall, the dim light catching the dark, almost-bruises around his eyes, "we're leaving in the afternoon, but can you come with me in the morning?"

"Come with you where?"

"Meeting. I got a call from Rhodey, some things need taking care of."

"Okay. Did you sleep, at all?"

"I disappeared for three months. There's a lot to catch up on."

He wobbles, and that's enough for Coulson. He catches Tony's elbow, and hip, and turns him back against the wall in one motion, before Tony really knows what's happening, "stop."

"What..."

"Either sleep tonight, or you're not coming."

"I can't sleep. There's too much to do."

"You have a cracked skull. You need rest. You aren't getting it. That isn't okay."

"I can't reh...rest, there's t-too muh...much..." something is off in his tone, he's stutterning mor than usual, he's breathing too fast. Coulson grips his wrist, gently checking his pulse. It's racing, and he's starting to tip forward. Coulson ducks down, so that he catches Tony over his shoulder, when he falls. Bruce and Thor, the only ones remaining in the room besides a sleeping Loki help him get Tony down the hall, onto a couch.

He's not completely passed out, but he's definitely out of it, unable to really keep his eyes open, clearly distressed, shifting around ineffectually. Coulson crouches beside him, gently rubbing his chest, until he starts to calm down, enough to raise his head a little, and realize Coulson is with him, where he is, what happened.

"You have a serious head injury. If you value what still passes for a brain, albeit a very strange one, you need to stop. You can't just push through this, you'll really hurt yourself."

Tony doesn't say anything, but he relaxes petulantly into the sofa, apparently giving in.

Tony does manage to walk to his bedroom, eventually, but it's very slow progress, and he supports himself on the wall, in addition to his grip on Coulson's arm. About halfway there, he stops, losing his balance, catching it, but not ready to take another step forward.

"There were more attacks here, on earth, while we were gone. More creatures. Xavier helped out, got all but one, found someone to send them back. But the last one, the military captured. They've held it, experimented. They're playing with something they don't understand. Rhodey found out, they asked him onto the project."

"That's what the meeting is?"

Tony nods, and starts walking again.

Reaching the room, Coulson sits down on the bed next to him, while he crawls under the covers, "I'll leave when you're asleep."

Tony glares, "release my blanket."

Coulson lifts his butt enough for Tony to pull the blanket out from under. He settles back down, and leans against the headboard, popping his shoes off onto the floor. Tony stretches an arm across his hips, and he raises an eyebrow, "I said once you're asleep. I'll wake you up when I leave if you do that."

"Then you can't leave, can you?"

"I'm not...staying here all night."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what it would mean."

Tony shrugs, settling in, putting his head on Coulson's chest, "it means I like actually sleeping through the night. And I appreciate your existence."

"Well, as long as you appreciate my existence, how could I say no..."

Tony laughs, into his chest, and settles in a little bit tighter against him.

Coulson wakes to the alarm Tony set, which apparently has no effect on Tony's own slumbering. Tony apparently decided that the space next to Coulson wasn't good enough, and therefore the only space he would occupy at all is the space directly on top of him. At the same time, Coulson can't be annoyed, because he doesn't think he's ever seen Tony look that damned peaceful. He's completely out of it, but he's got just a little tiny smile on his face, as he shifts to press himself somehow even more against Coulson's body.

Coulson reaches up, and gently starts to shift him off, turning himself as he does, to escape. His arm is still pinned under Tony's side, and as he tries to pull it out without disturbing the smaller man, Tony opens his eyes, and smiles, and he just lights up, like three inches from Coulson's face.

"Mmmmoo-orning..."

Coulson takes the eye-closing yawn as an opportunity to pull his arm away, and sit up, "morning."

He stands, on the dais, Tony's hand on his wrist, as the variously decorated and dressed up military and government higher-ups take their seats at the raised semi-circle desk, set up to be as imposing as possible. CIA, DEA, ATF, FDA...this is more than he expected, and kind of more random. And then, following NSA and USDA, which he doesn't quite understand why they're here, is SHIELD.

Well, then.

"So, c-coming from someone who has an awful lot experience dealing with villains and crackpots, your plan sounds kind of... familiar. Coulson, you've read our files, wasn't there some t-turnip farmer injecting his produce with cocaine to get people addicted to it, a while back?"

"Beet farmer. Local dentist called it in when everyone started showing up with pink teeth."

"So what part of taking addictive enzymes harvested from an alien and injecting them into people's food sounds l-like something the good guys do?"

"It really is for people's own good. We aren't doing anything that fast food and junk food manufacturers aren't already doing."

"I'm fairly certain salt, sugar and fat don't come from aliens."

"But they're more neuro-psychologically addictive than the compound we're using. People aren't able to make the right choices on their own, that's clear, and the health care costs of an increasingly obese population are going to bankrupt the country, make it impossible to invest the proper resources into our military and defense. We'll be a nation of fat, half dead, sitting ducks."

"Ignoring the massive headache that arguing your frankly moronic l-logic will be, what kind of studies have you done on the long term effects of that compound? None, you've had it for a m-month, and you're already giving it to the general population."

"The obesity epidemic is a national emergency. We don't have time to waste."

"Oh, yes you do. You have more than a month. This is really going above and b-beyond the normal level of stupid, even for the US Government."

"You know I have to mean it, when I say I agree with Stark. Seriously, what the fuck?" Fury, glaring in particular at the FDA and USDA representatives.

"All our background can be found in this document. Feel free to read through it, but we are not going to halt either production or dissemination. Have a nice day."

The other representatives leave, NSA, CIA, DOD and a few of the others looking a bit disturbed and worried, most of them stoic, FDA and USDA just looking entirely smug. Fury stays behind walking down from the raised desk, to joint them on the dais, "this would be the part where you get your involuntary resignation, but I think I could use you on this."

"In that case, I'm resigning voluntarily. We're in the middle of a war, and this is just a mess."

"Resignation not accepted. This is worse than you think. Come with me."

Fury probably doesn't miss that Tony's hand slides up to grip just above Coulson's elbow, the less than inch thick report held unopened at his side, but says nothing. Once they get out into the brighter light, Tony lets go, and starts flipping through the report as they walk.

"There are already massive shortages, they can't keep up with demand, for either the enzyme or the vegetables they selected to use with it. Unfortunately, junkies who can't get their fix can get a bit...unpleasant. Especially when they have no knowledge that they're even addicted. And Mr. USDA under represented the addictive quality, just a bit."

The list of violent incidents that Fury pulls up on a tablet would be less impressive if it wasn't being added to faster than they could read it.

"Do you know who this woman is, the one who headed up the research?"

"Rachel Herxheimer? No idea."

Tony hands Coulson the report, typing the woman's name into his phone's lookup protocol. Approximately three seconds later, he stumbles, stops, and grabs on to Coulson so hard he's going to have bruises, later.

"What?"

Tony hands him the phone, not letting go.

Coulson grips the back of Tony's shirt, steadying him, and hands the phone to Fury, "she was in Jotunheim when he was captured, and she was leading the Ice Giants. I shot her between the eyes a week ago. Tony saw her tortured to death months before that."