Welcome back to An Alternative State of Mentality! We would like to apologize for the bees; we found several more beehives during the break and all were agitated. Once again, allergy shots are provided in the main cabin or in the seat pocket in front of you. Please keep your hands, feet, and heads inside the ride at all times and ensure that your seat belt is firmly fastened until the ride has come to a complete stop. We are expecting turbulence for this last part. Tissues and disposable vomit bags are provided in case of need.

At the end will be a short message from the author. We hope you enjoy today's ride. Comments, critiques, and complaints are greatly appreciated (and may be considered depending on their type - flames are not accepted, but will provide amusing fodder).

DISCLAIMER: The author owns none of the included franchises.

AS A NOTE, the sequel to this story is up now! Brain Freeze is the last major installment of the series.

Part III

Flying through the air as he did, it was slightly difficult to remember that he had a mission to accomplish. (Well, not really, but he was feeling a bit poetic.) Mindful of the fact that he did have an ulterior motive in mind other than testing out the Mark XII, he opened up the communications line to the other Avengers, Captain America's voice filling his ears as he barked orders at a rapid fire pace.

Tony waited for a short lull before he cut in, saying, "Cap, I'll be backing up Spider-Man. You guys good?"

There was a short pause where Tony could feel the surprise from Steve. The response, when it came, was calm. "We can handle this, Iron Man. What about you?"

"All good on this end," Tony assured him, hearing his unspoken question. "We'll meet up afterwards."

"Right." Then Steve's voice turned harsh as he yelled, "Black Widow, left! War Machine, back her up!"

Tony turned down the volume while muting his end, not wanting to be left completely out of the loop since he couldn't see them. Then he focused on his flight and how Extremis was working with the suit.

It was, to put it simply, amazing. The suit was picking up the smallest muscle twitches and either ignoring them or responding instantly to make a small adjustment in positioning. It was like a second skin, an extension of himself.

He could feel JARVIS also working in the suit, though he couldn't act as fast as Extremis. Instinct told him that if he needed to fire a repulsor, his lasers, or a bullet, all it would take was a thought to calibrate and then fire.

It was exhilarating.

Tony drew out of his thoughts as he approached the neighborhood where Spider-Man was. He slowed down so as not to miss his mark, checking the lapsed time since he'd hung up: six minutes.

And not a moment too late as Spider-Man was splayed on the ground, about to be crushed by the large wrecking ball on a chain one of the super villains was touting. Tony yanked it out of his hands just as he landed in his signature pose; it left its wielder's grasp with a significant amount of resistance, meaning he had super strength.

Once in the air, though, it was simple enough to toss it behind him, straightening as he did, repulsors at the ready.

"Three on one?" he asked, sliding his right foot back to brace himself. "Doesn't seem very fair."

"Isn't supposed to be," the man who had almost crushed Spider-Man growled.

"My bad." Tony lifted his shoulders slightly in a small shrug, the suit effortlessly copying his movement. "I forgot super villains didn't read the handbook on fairness."

Spider-Man had rolled away from the villain by this time, coming up to his feet and remaining crouched. His frame was tense and quivering, muscles bunched up beneath the red and blue fabric (which looked a lot like spandex, but Tony was hoping that the kid was a little smarter than that).

There was a loud explosion not far off, and smoke started rising in the sky. Tony flickered his gaze over to it momentarily before refocusing on his opponents, noting that they hadn't flinched, which meant that they had planned it.

Spider-Man's reaction was unprecedented. "Aunt May! Damn it!" He whirled to Tony. "I need to go!"

A quick glance showed Tony what he had failed to notice before when he had saved Spider-Man: there were only three villains, and there had been four when he'd first seen the footage of Spider-Man.

"Go," he said shortly, jerking his head in the direction of the smoke. "I'll follow."

Spider-Man hesitated, uncertain. "What?"

"Get going!" Tony's sharp order was enough to get Spider-Man to quickly sprint past the villains and take a flying leap into the air, releasing a stream of webbing that stuck to one of the trees in one of the yards; then he was hurtling through the air.

"It's three on one again," the blond-haired villain said, stepping closer to Tony.

"Soon to be four," Tony said, eliciting confused looks.

"What—" the guy who had a really weird helmet on started.

Firing his thrusters, Tony took off into the air, reaching out with his telekinesis to grab onto the three. They cried out in surprise, flailing in the air as their feet left the ground. Tony made sure they were a safe distance apart from each other and himself before taking off in the direction Spider-Man had gone.

In mere seconds, he came across a smoking, flaming wreckage of a house. Spider-Man was outside and desperately trying to get past the burly man that was wielding a crowbar. (Yes, a crowbar; it took him a moment to realize he wasn't seeing things and that the guy was brandishing a run-of-the-mill weapon that would have Clint on the ground in laughter.)

"Attention, super villain," Tony announced, catching the villain's attention, "you will now be brought on Air Stark, regardless of your wishes and prior flight plans."

Without further ado, Tony snatched him up in the air, heedless of any squirming or flailing that was going on as the guy tried to get back on solid ground, and said to Spider-Man, "Get your aunt to the hospital. I'll meet you there when I'm done."

"Okay!" was all Tony got in response before Spider-Man flung himself into the wreckage.

A quick scan of the house for any life signs had Tony helpfully adding loudly, "Check the northwest corner."

Then he took off, four super villains in tow around him. He needed to get to an area with less civilians and a decreased likelihood of casualties. Property damage was a given, but it should at least be in a non-residential area.

"The streets leading into Brooklyn have been cleared, sir," JARVIS said.

Taking note of the map that flashed across the HUD, Tony just said "Right" before hightailing it there, not caring about the windburn he was giving his passengers.

When he reached his destination, he was thankful to see that it was vacant of human beings and the only objects present were that of the cars parked by the curbside. You had to love the efficiency of New Yorkers after they realized the potential dangers in being close to a war zone (this efficiency did not seem to apply to paparazzi, as they were still filming the Avengers' fight and were now trying to track his own movements).

Tony drew to an abrupt stop about fifteen feet from the ground. His passengers were hurled into the concrete.

"Prepare for landing," he announced belatedly.

To his surprise, the four villains got to their feet without any delay, shaking off the debris from their rough landing.

"Mind giving me your names?" Tony asked nonchalantly, using the time to come up with a plan now that he was up against four extremely resilient super villains. "Right now you're just super villain number one, super villain number two, you get the idea."

"We are the Wrecking Crew," the crowbar villain announced, glaring up at Tony. "Wrecker."

Tony barely had time to lament the redundancy of that name when the blond-haired guy said, "Piledriver."

The man with the helmet growled, "Bulldozer."

The last, who had wielded the ball and chain before Tony had divested him of it, said, "Thunderball."

Tony paused for a significant moment before saying, "I can really see the theme going on here. Any of you construction workers?"

"You're going to regret this, Iron Man," Wrecker warned.

"Oh good, you know my name." Tony prepared a repulsor. "But you're only half right."

He kept his attack at the level of firepower generally used for humans. It did absolutely nothing to Wrecker, who bared his teeth in a manic grin. Within a second (and a thought), his follow up attack had double the strength, enough to blow up a car.

This time the result was a red mark on Wrecker's arms and singed cloth.

"Oh boy," Tony muttered, quickly recalculating what he would need to do.

"Our turn!" Wrecker shouted, hefting his crowbar up.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Tony said flippantly. "I don't think any of you can fly, and I'm staying up here."

Words spoken too soon, as all Tony registered was Wrecker moving an arm before pain exploded across his mind and he was dropping like a stone, hitting the ground hard. Nothing was broken, but that seemed insignificant compared to the pain tearing through his head and the rest of his body.

He couldn't deal with this – not now – he had to get a grip on it! Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he opened his eyes to find that he was curled up on his side, arms clasped over his head in a futile attempt to ward off the pain. His vision was too blurry to make out details, but he could tell that the Wrecking Crew hadn't come any closer.

Extremis was…Extremis wasn't shut down. If it was, then he would be dead. But he wasn't dead; the best he could tell was that it was hibernating, since he could still feel it, but it just wasn't responding.

It was so difficult to think; his brain was moving so sluggishly it was alarming.

But he'd had worse and had worked through the arc reactor (first an electromagnet attached to a car battery) pressing on his lungs making it near impossible to breathe through the pain of his removed muscles and bones and the pressure of the obstruction pressing on his ribs, and yet he still hammered and forged and welded because he was Tony fucking Stark.

Still breathing (he was still breathing), he opened his eyes again (when had he closed them?) and pushed himself to his knees. Wrecker had come up to him now and was sneering down at him, crowbar at the ready to deal a lethal blow.

Tony fuzzily wondered what had happened to his armor because he wasn't hearing the quieted voices of his team or the babbling of the reporters. Sitting back on his knees, his breathing was heavy as he stared up at the man who had somehow disabled Extremis and was now going to kill him.

Well, screw that. Whoever thought he was helpless without his suit was a grade A moron and didn't deserve to be alive.

Mouth twitching into a pained smile, Tony had the breath to say, "Check."

Wrecker's eyebrows scrunched into confusion. "What?"

Flinging up his hands, Tony blasted him back with a focused mental blast. Wrecker crashed into Bulldozer, bowling him over.

Getting to his feet, Tony stumbled once before steadying himself. He felt unusually heavy, more so than he had since getting Extremis. Or maybe not heavy, but actually somewhat more normal since before he had felt so light that he could have jumped five feet into the air without trying.

His attention drew back to the Wrecking Crew when Bulldozer roared in anger and charged at him, head down for what looked to be an extremely painful head butt.

Tony didn't flinch, lifting him up in the air so he flew right overhead, crashing into the street a fair distance away. Then he moved, swiping his arm and sending the other three flying through the air in three different directions. He quickly reversed the direction, hopefully giving them whiplash, and clapped his hands together. The three collided in midair at the same time, falling to the ground in a heap.

Then, ducking, Tony focused on Bulldozer's oncoming charge from behind him, giving him an extra push that sent him crashing on top of the moving heap of the Wrecking Crew.

"Had enough?" he asked, blinking a trail of sweat out of his eyes. His heart was pounding and his nerves were tingling with pain; Extremis was still hibernating.

"You're just one man," Wrecker said, pushing off the other three to climb laboriously to his feet, still clutching the crowbar. "And you're almost falling over in pain. How much longer do you think you can keep this up? We can go all day."

Tony smiled, eyes tight with pain. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing." He lifted his hands, palms face down. "And anyone you ask," he continued conversationally, "will gladly tell you that I'm a really, really sore loser."

With a small grunt, he pushed his hands down. The Wrecking Crew were smashed into the ground, the concrete around them cracking as the force of Tony's mental push buried them into the street.

He had talked with Jean about this one day during his stay at the X-Men:

"Telekinetics have to be extraordinarily careful, do you know why, Tony?"

"Because you can hurt everyone around you?"

"Correct. You don't just move objects. You can stop them, too. You can hurt other people if you're not careful. This is why you need to know what you're doing at all times."

"So, effectively, I could stop someone's heart? Or crush them into nothingness?"

"I'm telling you this so that you don't go around experimenting and hurt someone you don't want to. Powerfully adept telekinetics – those who are actually able to feel the world around them beyond just moving an object in their sight – are fully capable of killing people with a thought. A doctor who knows the human body's ins and outs could easily stop the heart or snap the brain stem. But it doesn't take a doctor to crush a human body with the mere pressure of the mind."

"If this was a thing for even run-of-the-mill telekinetics, I think we'd be seeing a lot more of this happening."

"You're right. It takes utter conviction to kill another in such a way. If there's even the slightest doubt in the mind, whether it be subconscious or conscious, it won't work. You'll always hold back from that last inch that could possibly kill another."

"You do know that they used to call me the Merchant of Death, right? Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I do trust you, Tony. You wouldn't have become Iron Man if you were still that man. And you need to know what you're capable of. You would have found out eventually, and it's better you know now than you find out later under duress. This way you have a choice."

"Of whether or not to kill, you mean?"

"You know your limits, Tony. I can't tell you exactly how your mind works because I don't know; I can't read it well enough to say. But I know enough of you to say that you're a good man."

He could crush them right now. He could do it.

The image of M.O.D.O.K.'s body flying helplessly through the air to crash against the wall flashed through his mind.

But it wouldn't be right. Not now.

Releasing the pressure, Tony let his hands fall to his sides, breathing heavily from the exertion and the pain from the still hibernating Extremis.

He could do this. He'd fought through worse with a failing arc reactor and with his former mentor shouting in glee as he fired at him.

And now, focusing outside of the pain still wracking his body, Tony could sense a humming coming from the Wrecking Crew. It wasn't familiar, but it did have the general sense of an EMP, only far more advanced.

Something meant to stop Extremis in its tracks?

Exhaling sharply, Tony crushed the source of the humming, yanking it to him immediately afterward. The small device slammed into his open hand: it resembled a small radio.

Yet even with the device's death, Extremis still wasn't roaring to life. There were several more of these devices attached to the other three Wrecking Crew members. Tony ruthlessly squashed them and tore them off, meaning to study them later to figure out a way of blocking them.

The instant he did so, Extremis rushed back to life in a breathtaking stream of data. The pain washed away, and Tony could breathe. For several seconds, there was no stopping the relentless stream of data Extremis was flooding him with; then his safeguards and programs slammed into place and it retreated to the back of his mind, ready to be used when he needed it.

"Sorry, boys," Tony said, grinning lightly as he rolled his shoulders back. "You might want to ask for a refund on those toys of yours."

Piledriver was the first to climb out of the small crater Tony had made in the middle of the street. He was breathing heavily, but that was just about the only sign that he was at all affected. The other three Wrecking Crew members crawled out shortly afterward, lumbering rather shakily to their feet.

"Maybe I should be a little tougher on you guys," Tony remarked, folding his arms. "Seems like you can handle a lot."

"We'll kill you, Iron Man," Wrecker said lowly, glaring at him.

"If I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, I'd be a lot richer than I already am." Tony spread his arms, cocking his head to the side teasingly. "Give me your best shot. Or don't; I don't think it'll hit me considering your awful aim."

His words had the desired effect. Piledriver used his frankly massive hands to lift up a whole chunk of concrete and throw it at Tony. This was followed by Thunderball doing the same.

Tony knocked Piledriver's concrete slab to the right and Thunderball's to the left. Right on the heels of Thunderball's attack was a spinning crowbar courtesy of Wrecker. Tony had just enough time to send that spinning up into the sky right before Bulldozer bulldozed him. A hastily thrown up mental shield gave him enough of a cushion that instead of being killed, he was just thrown backwards into the air.

He should probably cut down on the whole taunting super villains thing, especially if he was without his suit. No matter how he hated to admit it, he was more vulnerable than usual without the cover.

And where the hell was his suit? He needed the damn thing!

No sooner had he thought this did he feel something slither over his skin. A blink later and then he was staring through his HUD and all the feeds scrolling across it. He was also staring at the sky and currently still flying through the air, so, priorities.

He corkscrewed, firing his thrusters and turning around to blast toward the Wrecking Crew. His first target was Bulldozer, and he hit him head on, cushioning the impact on his end with his telekinesis, although there was no cushion on Bulldozer's end.

"JARVIS," he said as he barreled Bulldozer and himself toward the other three villains, "what happened?"

JARVIS sounded perplexed. "I am uncertain, sir. The suit went temporarily offline, as did Extremis. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Tony gritted his teeth, angling up as he succeeded in driving Bulldozer directly into Wrecker. "I need to figure out how to get rid of them. Ideas?"

JARVIS was silent for a moment, analyses running across the HUD in quick succession. "Their files in S.H.I.E.L.D. list them all as having superhuman strength and durability," he said finally. "The member known as Wrecker is the leader, and he shares his strength with the others. Taking him down would theoretically incapacitate the others."

Tony narrowed his eyes, scanning up and down Wrecker's frame, now pushing his way out from under Bulldozer. "Worth a shot."

The simplest and easiest way to take Wrecker down would be to knock him out. But considering his resilience, just knocking him upside the head with a slab of concrete wouldn't get him anywhere. So that led to denying him necessary bodily functions.

Not the heart; that was too dangerous to meddle with. But maybe oxygen? Even the most durable of humans passed out eventually due to lack of oxygen. He could put pressure on Wrecker's throat, cutting off oxygen until the other guy passed out. He'd just have to be careful not to break any necks, but considering his durability, that might not be a problem.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, drifting in a lazy half circle above the Wrecking Crew.

Narrowing in on Wrecker, who was by now standing up, he focused on crushing his windpipe, going for a significant amount of strength on his first try. The effect was instantaneous: Wrecker dropped the crowbar, both hands going up to his neck as he fought against the mental pressure Tony was inflicting on his windpipe.

"The average time a human body can remain conscious without oxygen is five minutes, sir," JARVIS reported.

"Awesome," Tony said, desperately hoping nothing significant happened in those five minutes that would distract him from this.

He'd hit the minute mark and was dodging the concrete slabs Piledriver was throwing his way while Thunderball ineffectively tried to help Wrecker when his hope for nothing significant happening was ignored.

The line he'd kept open to the Avengers suddenly broke into frantic shouting as Captain America yelled, "Black Widow is down! I repeat, Black Widow is down! Hawkeye, can you get to her?"

"I can't! Son of a bitch is too fast!"

"War Machine!"

"On it, Captain." Rhodey's voice was grim. "Watch your back."

"Shit." Tony tightened the squeeze on Wrecker's throat; the man's face whitened even more and he collapsed face first onto the ground, startling Thunderball.

"He will regain consciousness in thirty seconds once unconscious," JARVIS said.

Tony didn't think; he just yanked Wrecker's arms out of his sockets and broke both his legs, envisioning the bones of the body as he did. For once he was thankful to Hansen for forcing him to cram so much biology into his head.

There was a gargled sound that would have been a scream if Tony wasn't still cutting off vital oxygen. Piledriver threw a car at him, which he dodged by moving to the left.

"Okay, new plan," Tony said, looking down at the Wrecking Crew. "This is taking too long."

"Cap, your left!"

"I've got it!"

"I've got the shot!"

"Take it!"

Bruce had told him one time of a spot on the head that could drop people into unconsciousness almost instantly. It was akin to the Vulcan nerve pinch, but a bit more specific than just a spot on the neck.

If he could just remember where it was…

A few seconds and a quick scan of the Internet later, Tony had pressed on the nerves while still choking Wrecker. The effect was immediate; Wrecker dropped like a stone. Piledriver also dropped the large truck he had been about to fling at Tony, unable to lift it.

"I'd say I'm sorry," Tony said, landing on the ground with a solid thump and approaching them, repulsors at the ready, "but I'm really not. So who's next?"

"The crowbar possesses Wrecker's powers," JARVIS informed him. "I would advise not touching it, as S.H.I.E.L.D. has noticed that people who do are susceptible to some sort of mind control."

Silently, Tony pulled the crowbar from Wrecker's side and drew it to his own. His hands were still up, repulsors crackling ominously.

One second passed. No one moved.

Then Tony jumped into action, firing his gauntlets at full power at Piledriver and Thunderball simultaneously. The impact blew them backward into a lamppost and car respectively. Bulldozer was last, and he received a full power blast from the chest RT, which had been powering up even as Tony fired his gauntlets.

After Bulldozer's crash into a building, Tony just stood there, breathing heavily as his body tingled strangely. There was no movement from the Wrecking Crew members, save for a faint moan of unconscious pain from Wrecker.

Tony was about to leave them to help his team when the reporter he had been largely ignoring in favor of listening to the chatter from the Avengers suddenly said excitedly, "The Fantastic Four is joining the battle! The Thing is leading the charge, attacking the opponent. The fire attack on the Thing seems to be having no effect, and the Human Torch is coming in fast! And it's the Invisible Woman coming with a force field. Mr. Fantastic is backing up Captain America."

Sagging slightly in relief, Tony pulled up the footage in his mind, relieved to see that Steve was fine, having been retrieved from the front line by Richards. Sue was utilizing her force fields to block the villain's attacks, while Johnny was combating fire with fire. Grimm didn't seem to be having any trouble, what with his entire body being made out of some sort of rock.

After a last glance over the very unconscious villains, Tony sent off an urgent memo to S.H.I.E.L.D. to tell them to pick up the Wrecking Crew. He was going to need to talk to Hansen anyway, and it was better to weasel his way into Fury's good books, however temporary it would be.

His job now done, Tony began looking for the signal from the phone he'd given Spider-Man. Once he found it, he made his way there, beginning to feel rather shaky now that the adrenaline was gradually dying down. It hadn't been a piece of cake to work through the pain earlier.

When he arrived at the front doors of the large hospital Spider-Man had taken his aunt to, he landed and lifted the face plate so as to seem more approachable. Then, clanking slightly, he walked through the doors and up to the front desk, heedless of the stares and gawks he was getting.

"Red and blue superhero called Spider-Man," he told the receptionist. "Should've arrived a little while ago."

Rather wide-eyed, the receptionist nodded. "Yes. He's in the waiting room by the OR."

"Thanks." Unable to stop from slumping in exhaustion, Tony leaned slightly against the countertop, not wanting to collapse the thing under the suit's not-so-insignificant weight, even though it felt like a pair of clothes on him. He really should have slept last night instead of pretending to after texting Steve.

No sooner had he thought this did the weight of the suit vanish with a slight melting sensation that had him shivering slightly. When the sensation dissipated, the receptionist was bug-eyed and there were startled exclamations from everyone in the room.

He was, he realized belatedly, stark naked. Which didn't really make any sense because he had had clothes earlier. He knew he had clothes earlier. Which begged the question as to where those clothes were now and where his armor had gone.

Looking down revealed nothing other than the fact that he was very naked and had some bruises running up his legs and hips, probably from when he'd hit the ground when Wrecker had disabled Extremis.

"One more thing," Tony said pleasantly, bracing himself against the counter, "can I have some clothes?"

By the time Tony found Spider-Man curled up in one of those goddamn awfully uncomfortable chairs, he'd been supplied hospital scrubs. They were green and looked awful with his complexion, but it was the best he could do until he got his hands on some actual clothes.

"Hey," Tony said, getting the kid's attention.

Spider-Man slowly lifted his head, seeming to do a double take when he saw Tony. "Why are you wearing scrubs?"

"I was naked," Tony said, flopping down in the seat next to Spider-Man. "Dunno why." His head rested against the wall. "How's it going?"

Spider-Man shook his head, curling his legs up to his chest. "No word yet. She…she was really badly burned. I found her crushed under…" He couldn't seem to finish the sentence.

"She'll make it," was all Tony could think of saying to help alleviate Spider-Man's worries. "I'd get the best surgeon the world has to offer, but she'd be out of the room before he gets here."

"It's fine." Spider-Man let out a shaky sigh. "What happened?"

"I had S.H.I.E.L.D. pick up the four guys," Tony said, closing his eyes to check one of the camera feeds around the area where he'd been fighting. There were several agents there already to pick up the four members, one of whom was carefully picking up the crowbar with a pair of tongs. "After I kicked their asses."

"Great." Spider-Man's voice was faint. It was a moment more before he said, tone strained, "I don't understand how they knew where I lived. I've been so careful. She's…she's all I have left." His hands tightened on his legs. "I wouldn't have risked her life."

Hesitating slightly, Tony worked his hand nervously for a few seconds before reaching up to place it gently at the nape of Spider-Man's neck. "I know you wouldn't have. Frankly, it's probably S.H.I.E.L.D. you have to look at. They were compromised a while back."

"None of them were ever near the house," Spider-Man insisted. "I would've noticed."

"Then maybe it was A.I.M.," Tony said. "I don't know what they're fully capable of, but they must have been keeping an eye on you for a while to know your address."

Spider-Man knocked his head back against the wall, dislodging Tony's hand as he did so. "I don't know what to do," he confessed quietly. "I thought I could protect her, but I couldn't even fight off four guys when you could."

"To be fair," Tony said dryly, "I'm a mutant. Even then, it wasn't easy."

"That's just it," Spider-Man said. "I have these powers for a reason. I'm trying…I'm trying to protect people. But if I can't even protect my own family…how am I supposed to protect others?"

Tony was silent for a moment, considering. His voice was subdued when he spoke. "I can't protect everyone either. When I started…it was in a cave. I couldn't protect the one thing – the one person who saved me. And I've done my best to live up to his memory, but I keep taking steps back. I do one thing, but something else happens." He shrugged lightly. "You've got to do the best you can with what you've got."

"I think you've done great," Spider-Man said quietly.

"How sweet of you." Spider-Man's response was a punch to his shoulder. "Ow. Okay, fine. You're doing good, too, kid."

"Not a kid," Spider-Man grumbled, pulling his hand back.

"You sound like a kid."

"I have a girlfriend!"

"Cute."

"No, seriously, what am I supposed to do?" Spider-Man leaned in close as he whispered this. "I can't stay around her anymore!"

Tony blinked down at him. "Your girlfriend or your aunt?"

"Either…both!" Spider-Man drew back, rubbing his hands over his head. "I—"

Tony interrupted him as Extremis pinged with the signal of Captain America's communicator, "I've got to take this. Hang on a moment." Picking up and closing his eyes as he did, he said, "Cap?"

"Iron Man." Steve sounded like he was keeping his voice calm through great force of will. "Report."

"All fine on this end," Tony said truthfully. "I'm at the hospital with Spider-Man; someone he knows got injured."

"And you?"

"Bruises, but nothing major. How's Black Widow?"

"She'll be fine. Can you send me your coordinates?"

"Done," Tony said, sending them off. "I'll meet you outside."

"Received."

The line disconnected then, and Tony opened his eyes, sighing as he picked his head up off the wall.

"I have to leave," Spider-Man said suddenly.

Tony looked over at him, rather confused. "What?"

"I can't stay with her," Spider-Man said, turning his head to look at Tony. "It's too dangerous."

"You can't just leave her here either," Tony pointed out.

"I know," Spider-Man moaned, ducking his head. "But I can't stay."

Working his bottom lip as he thought, Tony finally blew out a breath and said, "I can call Happy. Take her somewhere safe. No one has to know. For all they know, she died on that table." He nodded at the OR doors.

There was a small flinch from Spider-Man. "I… Is that possible?"

"I'm Tony Stark," Tony said wryly. "I can make it possible. In the meantime, you can stay with us. At least until we get this sorted out."

Spider-Man was quiet for a few moments. Finally, he said, "This wasn't exactly my plan when I started this gig."

Tony shrugged, getting to his feet and clapping Spider-Man on his shoulder. "Join the club. Plans usually get blown out of the water by the second hour. You leaving with me? I'll be meeting Cap outside."

"Right." Spider-Man sounded distracted as he stood up, face turned in the direction of the OR.

Tugging gently at Spider-Man's elbow, Tony let go once Spider-Man fell into step after him.

They'd stepped outside when Spider-Man said, quietly, "I don't think she knew that I'm Spider-Man. She knew I was doing something, but I don't think she knew what."

Yinsen and his old eyes, able to see straight through Tony's shields and bluster and right to the core of him, came to Tony's mind.

"Sometimes," Tony said, tilting his head up as he felt Rhodey's suit approach, "our elders are those who know us better than we do."

Spider-Man didn't respond, as it was at that point that War Machine landed in front of them. Or what should have been War Machine.

"Rhodey, what the hell?" Tony stared blankly at the mockery that had been made of his beloved suit. It was decked out in red, white, and blue just like Captain America's suit.

"Hello, Tony." Rhodey sounded resigned.

"Did the army decide that they just had to have a Captain America of their own? What excuse is there for this god awful paint job? Are you supposed to be the Iron Patriot?"

There was a brief hesitation before Rhodey admitted, "Yes."

"What." Tony narrowed his eyes. "I don't even."

"Tony." Steve's voice was firm as he cut in. "Why are you dressed in hospital scrubs?"

"He was naked," Spider-Man said. "I didn't see, but apparently everyone else did, because there were lots of stares."

"Why were you naked?" Steve asked. "Were you fighting without clothes?"

"I really wouldn't ask," Rhodey advised him.

"I wasn't naked before," Tony said peevishly. "I don't fight naked. That'd be bad etiquette. What if I show the bad guy my junk?"

"You lost your clothes?"

Tony shrugged, hating the scratchy quality of the scrubs. "Somehow. Maybe the news will show it, because I know they were filming the fight."

"Right." Steve just stood there, unusually stiff.

Tony gave him a look over before scanning the surroundings. There were some paparazzi, but they were staying a short distance away considering that Captain America was in a rather bloody uniform, a fully outfitted War Machine was standing there, Spider-Man was hovering by his elbow, and they had probably just seen Tony take down four super villains with only a few bruises.

"You can touch me," he said quietly to Steve.

Steve twitched, closing his eyes and taking a breath. When he opened them, he said, "If I touch you now, I'm not going to let go."

Shrugging, Tony opened his arms. "No objections on this end. Really. I'm open to hugs. Ask Spider-Man."

"He's very huggable," Spider-Man said dutifully, "but I've never hugged him."

Tony promptly wrapped an arm around the kid's shoulders, squeezing him to his side for a brief moment before letting go. "Rectified."

"If you're having trouble keeping from jumping Tony's bones, I could take him," Rhodey offered. "I don't see him that way. The suit can definitely take both of you." The head of the armor tilted slightly to the side. "What happened to yours, Tony?"

Tony shrugged. "It might be in my bones. Or invisible. I'm not entirely sure."

Steve wrapped an arm around Rhodey's waist similar to his usual flying stance with Tony. "Baxter Building." The two words were a demand.

"I have better machines than Richards," Tony pointed out, staying back.

"Everyone else is with them," Steve said.

It took Tony all of a second to make his decision. "Fine. Baxter Building it is." He held out a hand to Spider-Man. "Come on. I'll give you a ride."

Now it was Spider-Man who was hesitating. "How?"

"Ye of little faith," Tony said, rolling his eyes.

Kicking off into the air with a push from his feet, Tony mentally grabbed hold of Spider-Man, who yelped. There was no need to keep his telekinesis a secret anymore; practically everyone in New York must have seen the live footage of him using it against the Wrecking Crew by now.

"That will never stop looking weird," Rhodey mused, firing his own thrusters to follow Tony.

Tony really hoped that whatever had happened wouldn't mean being benched again. He felt perfectly fine, even with the heavier than usual (since he'd gotten Extremis) feeling he had now. At least he wasn't feeling like the smallest breeze would topple him over now.

Natasha didn't look too good. She was completely ashen, her bright red hair a vivid contrast against her white skin. She had bandages wrapped around her torso, the lower half of which was a rusty red.

"Shouldn't she be in the hospital?" Tony asked, pointing at her. She was lying down on the couch in the living room of Richards's.

"No." Natasha's answer was crisp.

"Yes, actually," Bruce corrected, coming into the living room, drying his hands on a towel. "We were just advised against it for the moment."

"We called S.H.I.E.L.D.," Clint said, leaning over the back of the couch by Natasha's head, knuckles white as he gripped the fabric. "They'll be looking at her."

"Just as well," Tony said, "I need to talk to Hansen."

Clint gave him a cursory look over. "Are you and no clothes going to become a thing? Because if you are, I'd like advanced warning so I can have an extra pair of boxers on me."

"I had clothes," Tony said, affronted. "They disappeared."

"He was dressed when he left," Jane confirmed, standing next to Sue by the doorway.

Bruce blinked. "Fascinating."

Tony rolled his eyes, turning the TV on with a thought and switching it to a news channel that was playing back the footage of the fights. "Let's see what happened."

Steve was vibrating with tension next to him, arms folded across his chest. Tony glanced at him askance, making to rest a hand on his arm. A quick head shake deterred him from this notion and he turned away, confused and hurt. They weren't in public anymore, not that Steve had ever shied from showing affection where everyone could see. What was wrong?

In an effort to take his mind off the conundrum, he focused on the television, watching the footage of Spider-Man taking on the Wrecking Crew, the original voice recording speaking over it as if it was still happening, "Spider-Man is having trouble holding his own. The one with the crowbar has left the scene. And…" Spider-Man was now about to be squashed by Thunderball. "Oh my God… He's—"

That was when the wrecking ball was pulled out of Thunderball's hands and Iron Man made his entrance, smoothly standing up after landing.

"Iron Man is here! How did he pull away the weapon?"

The suit looked strange; the colors were different.

"It looks a bit like a cockroach," Johnny said.

"Hey," Tony snapped, though it had no real bite. It looked like JARVIS had gone and used Dummy's new color scheme without clearing it first through Tony, though he'd have to compare it to the figurine still in his workshop to be sure. It looked even cooler in real life (and not at all like a cockroach, thank you very much).

"Spider-Man has left the scene," the reporter was saying, "leaving Iron Man alone. No, wait… He's leaving! And so are they?"

The confusion was understandable, as there was no real reason for the Wrecking Crew to be floating after Iron Man.

The reporter was so excited he was talking rapidly. "It's public knowledge now that Iron Man is a mutant. Is this his mutant power?" A short pause. "It's being theorized that it's telekinesis, the ability to move other objects with one's mind."

The footage stopped there to cut to the anchorman speaking live, the still image of Iron Man and the Wrecking Crew flying in the upper right corner of the screen. "That was what we hypothesized," the anchorman said, "and it was further supported by this." There was a cut to Iron Man flying through the air, the entire Wrecking Crew flailing around him shortly before being hurled into the street. "But something else happened. We'll let you see for yourselves before we converse with an expert."

Tony highly doubted the credibility of their "expert," but he focused on the footage that was showing now. It had been taken from a helicopter judging from the angle they were showing the fight at.

He was flying above the villains, so whatever Wrecker had done to disable Extremis should be kicking in any moment… When it happened, he was surprised. The suit just disappeared, and then he was dropping like a stone to the street.

Beside him, Steve twitched, but he didn't make any movement beyond that.

"The suit has vanished," the reporter was saying incredulously. The camera zoomed up close, and Tony could clearly see that he was screaming at this point. "He seems to be in incredible pain."

No one said anything funny in response to that particular line, all too focused on what was happening on-screen, even though Tony was clearly fine and standing next to a very tense Steve. Wrecker was approaching the other Tony, who was curled up on his side.

But now the on-screen Tony was slowly getting to his knees. Tony could see how dazed he had looked at that point, face ashen in pain.

"He's not going to be able to handle this," the reporter said slowly, voice strained.

Before Tony could snort at the overly dramatic statement, his past self on the TV screen took care of Wrecker. Then he handed the entire crew their asses on a platter and destroyed the Extremis-inhibiting devices. He wondered where the devices were now; he'd lost the one he had grabbed when the suit had come back on.

"Remind me not to get you mad," Spider-Man said, watching as several concrete slabs were batted aside. Still in the War Machine suit and standing next to him, Rhodey nodded once in agreement.

The reporter was talking excitedly again. "It's confirmed. Tony Stark has telekinesis! And full control over it! And – oh!"

On screen, Tony was flying through the air courtesy of Bulldozer. Then, suddenly, his clothes began to rip apart, red and gold metal sliding over his skin to click into place. Not even two seconds later Iron Man was spinning around to wreak his vengeance on the Wrecking Crew, and that was when the footage cut back to the anchorman, this time sitting with the so-called "expert," a respectable looking middle-aged man in a smart suit. The name caption named him as Richard Dawkins.

"What was that?" the anchorman asked, sticking a pen at the screen behind them, which was a still frame of the suit melting out of Tony's skin; the focus had zoomed in on it so it could clearly be seen that the suit was literally coming out of his skin (it was honestly not the strangest thing he'd ever seen, but did come pretty close to it). "Is it possible for a mutant to have two separate powers?"

"It's perfectly possible," Dawkins agreed. "Typically, it's omega level mutants who have two or more abilities. They're the most powerful. Considering Tony Stark's talent with technology, it's not too surprising he would also be a technopath."

"Why haven't we seen this happening before?" the anchorman asked. There was a small clip on the screen of the first time the Mark V had been used. "An ability like this would have been extraordinarily useful."

"Before people didn't know," Dawkins explained. "Now they do, so there is no reason to hide. It's still dangerous being a mutant, although strides have been made to lessen this."

Somewhere Tony could hear Logan giving a snort of disgust and saying, "What a crock full of shit."

"Is Tony Stark an omega level mutant?" the anchorman asked.

"At the moment it would be only speculation, but it's certainly possible," Dawkins said. "There aren't many mutants capable of holding their own or even defeating four opponents who are also mutants."

"False," Tony said to the screen, even though Dawkins couldn't hear him. "You don't have to be omega level to defeat guys with the IQ of stones."

"Shh," Natasha hushed him, not taking her eyes off the screen.

Tony quieted, but he didn't pay attention to the TV. It was a waste of memory space listening to that crap, and Steve could fill him in later if need be. Instead, Tony looked down at his right hand.

It looked completely normal. There was nothing to say that he had the suit in his bones. The only thing that even hinted at the difference was that he felt like he weighed more than a feather now.

The only way to check was to see if he could get the suit to come out now. Preferably not the entirety of it because he didn't have any spare clothes directly on hand, but maybe just the gauntlet. It should theoretically be possible.

Still staring at his hand, Tony focused on the denseness he felt in his bones, trying to bring it to the forefront. He kept the focus on his hand.

It was sudden when it happened. Red and gold melted out of his skin, seeping over his hand and solidifying, hardening to become the familiar gauntlet of his suit. It stopped just beyond his wrist, the metal of the gauntlet fading back into his skin.

"That's kind of weird," Johnny said, drawing everyone else's attention to what Tony had done.

Ignoring them, Tony turned his hand around, eyeing the centerpiece. Would he be able to fire a blast like this?

There was a sparking sensation from his chest that tingled down to his hand, and the centerpiece of the gauntlet flickered and crackled with energy, glowing blue. Noting the sharp inhalation from Steve, Tony cut the power like he would if he were actually in the suit, and the light flickered out.

"Should you be doing that?" Steve asked conversationally.

Tony glanced at him, seeing lines of tension on his face that weren't revealed by his tone. "Better I do it now than later when it might backfire rather spectacularly. No one wants that."

"And that's why you want to talk to Hansen," Bruce said.

"Yep." Tony curled his hand into a fist, marveling at how natural the sensation felt. He straightened it out a moment later, focusing on calling the gauntlet back into his skin. It seeped back into his pores a second later, leaving smooth, unblemished skin in its wake.

"This is way too sci-fi for my taste," Johnny announced, turning the TV off with a click of the remote, ignoring the twin glares he was receiving from Natasha and Clint.

"You got your powers in space," Clint pointed out. "While doing research. How is that not sci-fi enough?"

"We don't have metal suits in our bones."

"I'd like to run scans on that," Richards added.

"No." Tony was far curter than he had meant to be.

"Are you sure, Tony?" Rhodey asked. "D'you remember the last time you tried to take care of things yourself?"

"It's not even on the table." Tony folded his arms across his chest to hammer his point home. "If I run scans, it'll be back home, where I have the best security on the planet. Not in a building that Doom keeps attacking because of some outdated vendetta."

Richards started, "Can I—"

Tony didn't let him finish. "No. Absolutely not." If Richards even got an inkling as to why this was possible, he had no doubt that he would try to do something with it. And Extremis was far too dangerous.

"Why are you talking to someone else then?" Richards demanded.

"Because she's the expert." Tony's lips thinned as he looked pointedly away to signal that the conversation was closed.

Richards wouldn't let it go. "The expert on technopaths?"

"For the love of—" Tony dropped his arms to his sides, exasperated. "I am not a technopath. I have an affinity to technology, an affinity. That does not mean I am a technopath."

"If you've got a technological suit able to come out of your skin, maybe you are one," Grimm said.

There were a few things wrong with Grimm's assessment, but Tony wasn't going to enlighten him as to what. It seemed that Richards had made up his mind on the matter, and Tony wasn't going to change it because that would lead to unwanted questions. Richards would no doubt want to do things with Extremis that Tony couldn't condone; and not because he'd knocked out most of the world's power and didn't want to risk that happening again.

Thankfully, it was at that moment that Steve's communicator went off. He didn't answer it, but nodded to Clint and Natasha.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.," he explained shortly, not elaborating further.

"I think I'll stay here," Bruce volunteered.

"I'm coming," Rhodey said, his tone allowing for no arguments.

"I don't want to go," Spider-Man said, sighing, "but I probably should."

"There's no need for you to come," Steve told him.

Spider-Man visibly slumped in relief. "Awesome, thanks."

"Let's go already," Clint urged, practically vibrating where he stood. He reached down to help Natasha up.

"I can walk," she said stiffly, slapping his hand away. Her other hand was wrapped protectively around her torso.

"No, you can't," Bruce corrected calmly, eyes flicking over to Tony.

"Am I a gurney?" Tony asked, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Do I look like a gurney to you?" This was asked of Steve.

Steve smiled at him, suddenly looking much more relaxed. "You're a very handsome gurney."

"That is a hell of a lot of sap," Johnny commented. He was promptly slapped on the head by Grimm. "Ow!"

"If you drop me," Natasha told Tony seriously, "you will regret it."

"I'm insulted that you think so little of my abilities," he retorted, lifting her off the sofa. The tense lines around her eyes told him that the rather weak insult had been her attempt at grasping at a semblance of normality after being so seriously injured; the least he could do was indulge her, even if she would knock him out for ever thinking that.

He needed to talk with Hansen. And then they needed to figure out what the deal was with Mallen. Despite the Fantastic Four's involvement, he had managed to escape with the help of his super speed.

It didn't sit well with him that the combined forces of the Avengers and the Fantastic Four weren't able to bring in one man, even if he had possessed superpowers.

The ride to the Helicarrier was silent for the most part. Steve had been thoughtful enough to duck into Tony's room in the Baxter Building for two minutes to grab a change of clothes since hospital scrubs weren't the best to see Fury with, especially since last time Tony had been dressed in A.I.M.'s uniform.

There had been some stares on the Quinjet due to Tony's lack of dress, but after putting Natasha in the designated bed, Tony had promptly stripped and redressed in the button-up shirt, suit jacket, and pants. The personnel on board had been a bit too busy dealing with Natasha to pay attention to someone changing clothes.

They were met on the tarmac by Fury, who had his hands tucked behind his back as he watched them exit the flight craft.

"I'm having trouble deciding if you're stupid or self-destructive," Fury said to Tony the moment they were face to face.

"If you've read my file," Tony said, smiling sweetly as he pulled down on his suit jacket, "then you'd know it's the latter."

Fury didn't smile, but there was a glint in his eye that hinted at amusement. He looked over Tony's shoulder to nod at someone. "Barton. Captain. Lieutenant Colonel."

"Director." Clint's voice was cool.

Steve's voice had a lance of steel running through it. "Afternoon."

Rhodey clanked over to Tony's side, looming over Fury. "Director Fury." His tone was the most genial, though still void of inflection.

Mentally hoping there wouldn't be a pissing contest not started by him, Tong suggested, "Let's walk and talk." He stepped to the side to let the medical personnel and Natasha by.

Once they were out of the wind and inside the Helicarrier, following Natasha's entourage, Fury said, "Let's cut the bullshit and get to the point."

"Hansen," Tony said.

"She's in our custody," Fury said. "As is the Wrecking Crew."

"I noticed." Tony smiled lightly. "Everything good on that end?"

"They're confined," Fury confirmed.

"Have you gotten any whereabouts on Mallen?" Steve asked.

"If I recall correctly, Captain, S.H.I.E.L.D. is no longer required to aid the Avengers."

"You're supposed to watch out for the public," Tony pointed out before Steve could. "That means keeping an eye on people who can breathe fire."

Fury stared at Tony for a long, silent moment. Then he turned his gaze back to the front, saying curtly, "He's dropped off the radar for now. We're keeping an eye on it."

"He breathes fire, shrugs off Captain America's shield, and is bulletproof," Clint said tensely. "Not to mention how his fingers transform into claws and he can shoot electricity. How did a guy like that drop off the radar, Director?"

Fury seemed displeased as he said, "We're working on it."

"Need any help?" Tony asked sarcastically, raising his eyebrows.

Fury glared at him. "No."

"Is there anything we can help with?" Rhodey cut in, shooting Tony a warning look.

Fury sighed as they reached the medical bay, stopping outside the doors as they closed behind the medical personnel and Natasha. "You didn't come here to offer your help, so cut the bullshit. You're here for Hansen?" The look on his face told Tony he had already seen the news and knew what Tony had to talk to her about.

"Yes," Tony answered. "You've got somewhere we can talk?"

Fury looked at him for a long indiscernible moment. Then, sighing, he turned to the closed doors to the medical bay. "Yes."

Clint stepped up to stand directly by Tony. "I'm coming with," he said in a tone that bode no arguments.

"Natasha?" Tony asked, turning his head to look at him.

Clint turned so his back was to Fury, pitching his voice solely for Tony. "Nat and I have been out for the last couple weeks gathering intel. We've got something, but we're not sure what. Hansen probably holds the last puzzle piece. I can read body language better than you can. You'll get your answers, and I'll get mine."

Tony nodded once, gaze flicking back to Fury. "He comes with."

"Good to know. Anyone else?" Fury's gaze went over Steve and Rhodey.

"I'll stay," Rhodey volunteered. "I'll let you know what they say when I get the news."

"Terrific," Fury said, sounding anything but enthused. "Now let's get going before another major catastrophe happens."

Despite Fury's statement, it took a good ten minutes before they had a small boxlike private room where Tony found himself sitting across a drab metal table from Hansen. Steve and Clint took up silent positions against the wall, Clint behind Tony so he could keep an eye on Hansen, and Steve on the opposite side.

Tony glanced askance at the one-way mirror where he could see Fury and another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent (only because of Extremis accessing the cameras, not because of any X-ray vision, though that would be seriously cool). He jerked his head slightly, making sure to look significantly at where he knew the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was standing. From the camera he was still in, he could see Fury heaving an exasperated sigh and dismissing the agent.

The recordings would be kept private with only Fury's clearance high enough to access them. Satisfied that there would be no unwanted watchers, he turned his attention to Hansen.

"Cozy?" Tony asked, scanning her rather drab gray jumpsuit.

"I can't complain," Hansen said, smiling falsely.

"Great." Tony laid his right hand on the table, palm down. "So let me start this nice and easy: Is there anything else you want to tell me about Extremis? Any hidden surprises that I should've known about before you injected me with it?"

Hansen blinked, not having anticipated this. "It's all in the code."

Tony smiled blandly. "That's great. Except for the fact that I'm not a biologist. So you'll have to explain to me the parts that only a person like you could understand."

"It rewrites the body to its own standard of perfection," Hansen started, eyes flicking down to Tony's hand.

"You've said that several times, Doctor," Tony interrupted, rapping his fingers against the table impatiently. "But I don't think this is supposed to be a standard of perfection, is it?" He called forth the gauntlet, letting it envelop his hand. "Unless you intended to create a new breed of super humans who were technological weapons?"

Hansen's eyes widened at the sight; she inhaled excitedly. "Is that new?" she asked quietly, eyes fervent with excitement.

"I was born with it," Tony quipped. "Yes, it's new, what do you think? Do you mind explaining?"

"It is Extremis's standard of perfection," Hansen said, taking her eyes off the gauntlet to meet Tony's eyes. "It absorbs and adapts forms of technology that it finds suitable for use. Your suit is a marvel of technology, far beyond anything else that anyone has produced today. It's no surprise that Extremis absorbed it for easier use."

"This is easier?" Tony asked skeptically, lifting his hand up to flex it. "It rips off all my clothes when I use it. How is that easier?"

Hansen didn't look embarrassed aside from a small flush on her cheeks. "I'm sure you could fashion something to use."

"I could," Tony agreed, "but that's not the point. Is there anything else I should be concerned about? Am I going to continue to absorb technology that Extremis finds is suitable?"

"That depends," Hansen said. "Considering that it absorbed your suit first, it will likely not absorb anything else unless it is of a similar quality. So a cell phone will not be absorbed, but your arc reactor will be."

"Already done." Tony tapped a gauntleted finger against the power source in his chest, absorbing the metal back into his bones as he did. Flexing his hand once again, he drew it under the table to join his left. He flashed a fake smile. "When you initially injected me with it."

"I won't apologize for it," Hansen said.

"Wasn't expecting you to." Tony leaned forward. "Now let's talk logistics. Is there anyone else besides M.O.D.O.K. who knew what ran Extremis? Or was it just you and your assistants?"

"Thomas and Sarah never knew the entirety of what went into Extremis," Hansen said. "They were aware of the basic foundation, but not of the intricacies that made up the program."

"I took care of M.O.D.O.K. when I got out," Tony said lowly. He saw Steve start slightly before stilling. "Assuming he was the only one besides you who knew what Extremis was made of"—his face made it clear how skeptical he was of this—"who else would know how to shut off the program? Or were you in contact with the Wrecking Crew by any chance?"

Hansen frowned. "I've never heard of them."

There was no indication that she was lying, but Tony didn't think she was telling the truth on who else knew about Extremis. Considering the complexity of the program, there was no way she was the only person on Earth who knew everything about it. There had to be at least one other person.

"Who was your partner?" he asked suddenly, bringing his clasped hands up onto the table. "And don't lie. You had one. You're brilliant, but there's no way you did everything on Extremis. And Fern and Yelksin don't count."

Hansen was quiet for a long moment, eyes fixed on the table. Finally, several breaths later, she looked up. "Aldrich Killian." Her answer was quiet. "He was my partner. He wasn't there when you came because he had another assignment."

"Thank you." Tony stood up abruptly, looking directly at the one-way mirror and jerking his head toward Hansen. "I'd say I hope you have a nice stay, but S.H.I.E.L.D. has lousy facilities."

He stepped out of the small depressing room into the hallway, hearing Steve and Clint step out behind him.

"Well?" he asked Clint quietly, stepping to the side to let the formerly dismissed agent back in to retrieve Hansen. "You get what you need?"

Clint wasn't smiling, but he radiated satisfaction. "Oh yeah. You?"

Tony did smile. "Yep." He turned to Fury, who had stepped out of the observer's room. "I'll get that contract to you sometime in the next couple of days. I've been rather busy."

Fury's eye swept over Tony's figure. "I can tell." He was silent as Hansen left then, guided by the agent, speaking when she was gone. "You know how to contact me."

"I do." Tony smiled sweetly. "And you're welcome for the Wrecking Crew."

Because Natasha had been hit in the stomach by one of the electricity attacks by Mallen, she wasn't as seriously injured as she could have been due to the heat of the electricity closing most of the wound before she could bleed out. After they went back to the medical bay to check on her status, they found her bandaged up after having been disinfected, cleaned, and given antibiotics in case of infection. She was also raring to check out, glaring daggers at Rhodey since he kept pushing her back onto the bed.

They did check her out, partly because they had a doctor in house who would be able to make sure that she took her meds. (And also because Natasha stared at Tony, promising a silent but painful death if he didn't agree that she was ready to leave.)

When they left, it was to the Baxter Building to pick up Bruce and Spider-Man before heading back to the mansion. Tony needed to run the scans on the recent changes to his body, but he would be back to continue working on the vibranium problem. Richards had looked displeased at being left out of the fun, but Tony had adamantly put his foot down on the matter.

Extremis would remain as classified as possible, free from any other super geniuses who might try to mess with it.

The moment Tony stepped into the workshop, Steve on his heels, Dummy almost barreled into him with enthusiasm.

How'd you like it? Did you like it? Dummy wheeled around ecstatically, spinning in circles. Wasn't it totally awesome? The colors were rad!

"Where'd you pick up that word?" Tony asked, blinking at the spinning bot.

"The internet, sir," JARVIS reported long-sufferingly. "And may I add, it is good to see you again."

Awesome! Dummy agreed, speeding off to his brothers, who were rather more sedate with their enthusiasm at seeing Tony.

"What's he talking about?" Steve asked, blinking after the overexcited bot.

"The suit," Tony said to Steve. The next bit he addressed to JARVIS. "I was surprised to see the new paint job, but it looks good. Were you ever going to tell me?"

"It had been my intention," JARVIS said, "but there was no time."

"Great timing on that by the way," Tony said, smiling so JARVIS could see. "Now, if you could run the scans you did the first time we were checking on Extremis?"

There was a buzz of confusion around him. "Of course, sir."

Steve stepped back as Tony moved forward to the center, allowing the blue lights of the sensors to scan across his body. When it was over, Steve moved up to Tony's side as he took a seat on a table, waiting for the results.

Tony glanced askance at Steve, only to find that the man was already looking at him. "Something wrong?"

Steve shook his head. "No." He moved as if to touch Tony, but stilled a moment later, turning to look straight ahead, jaw set.

Confused and a little bit hurt (or maybe a lot hurt), Tony focused on his shoes. They were black and shiny, very nondescript and calming to look at. Or boring. Yeah, they were ridiculously boring.

Thankfully, JARVIS announced that the scans were done and displayed the results.

The first thing Tony said was, "Hey, I gained weight."

"And skeletal mass," JARVIS added. "What I see should be impossible, sir. You should technically be dead."

"But I'm not," Tony said sharply, feeling Steve stiffen at his side. "It's Extremis, so let's toss out human norms and go with what we've got here."

"Which is nothing that has been seen before," JARVIS pointed out.

"But there aren't any dangers?" Steve asked.

"No more so than with that serum of yours," Tony remarked. He moved to take off his suit jacket. "Let's run the scans again with the suit."

Stripped naked, Tony closed his eyes, breathing out slowly as he focused on calling out the suit. Because he was paying attention this time, he could feel the difference as his skin was covered by metal and shielded from the cool air of his workshop. But this time there was no indication of anything sliding out of his skin, which was probably for the best since he'd be otherwise distracted by the sensation.

When he opened his eyes, it was to look through the HUD. He flipped the faceplate up a second later, glancing over at Steve, who seemed to be rather wide-eyed at the sight.

"JARVIS?" Tony asked.

"Computing results, sir. It is rather fascinating. Is this a new development?"

"Happened when I was taking on the Wrecking Crew," Tony admitted. "But it happened before when it absorbed the arc reactor when I was initially injected. What've you got?"

"It is rather unlike anything I have seen before," JARVIS said, letting the results appear on blue screens all around Tony. "It would seem that the suit collapses to a more compact form to fit within your skeletal structure, liquidizing to come to the surface before it forms over your figure."

"Interesting." Tony slid the faceplate back down, lifting a hand. "Run the scans; I'm gonna fire a blast at low power."

He made sure to aim in the direction where he'd once tested Clint's new arrows, noting how easy it was to calibrate the power of the repulsor with just his mind. He flipped the faceplate back once he was done, watching as the numbers blurred in the air in front of him.

"Fascinating," JARVIS said, doing an excellent Spock impersonation. "It would seem that the power source in your chest is powering the suit."

"Wasn't that what it's supposed to do?" Steve asked.

"Initially, yes," Tony said. "Along with powering my heart and keeping shrapnel out of it. But its purpose has changed. Technically, there really wasn't any need for Extremis to keep it; most of my suits"—he gestured at the display of older models—"have their own power sources. Which is why Spider-Man was able to use one when JARVIS was piloting it."

"So why did it keep it?"

"We can only hypothesize, Captain," JARVIS answered for Tony. "Judging from the results, it would seem that it is being used as a power source for whatever it is needed for."

"What happens if this runs out of energy?" Steve asked tensely. "You don't have a backup."

"I don't think it's running my bodily functions." Tony couldn't help but smile, retracting the armor as he did. "But I'll keep an eye on it. JARVIS, make a note for research into fabric that Extremis might absorb. I can't keep stripping every time I need to use the armor."

"Done, sir."

Steve handed Tony his pants. "That's it?"

"For now." Tony waved a hand to discard all the holographic screens. "We should go talk to Clint, see what he picked up from Hansen and with Natasha."

Inclining his head in agreement, Steve handed over the shirt, which Tony put on but didn't button up. He was going to need to shower in any case to get the feel of hospital off his skin.

Bidding his bots a farewell, Tony led the way upstairs to the living room where Natasha had been deposited on the couch, the TV delegated to her for her entertainment.

"Well?" Bruce asked when they'd passed the doorway.

"I have a clean bill of health," Tony said dismissively. "JARVIS'll send you the results later." He turned to Spider-Man, who was hovering rather uncertainly on the fringes of the room. "I let Happy know about your aunt after we left the hospital; she should be fine."

Spider-Man visibly relaxed, nodding once. "Thanks."

"No problem." Tony shrugged.

"Clint, what did you get from Hansen?" Steve asked.

"Exactly what I needed," Clint said, sharing a triumphant look with Natasha.

"We did some digging," Natasha said, taking over from Clint. "Found out that Hansen had help with manufacturing the Extremis program. We weren't sure who because that was buried under layers of security that even we couldn't crack without revealing ourselves. But he was closely linked to A.I.M., possibly closely enough to know that you're a mutant."

"So Aldrich Killian is responsible for letting the cat out of the bag." Tony interlinked his hands in front of him, his suit jacket dangling over an arm. "Do you know where he is?"

"Like she said, we couldn't get to his identity," Clint said. "But we did trace something back to New York, so we're assuming he's here." He nodded at Tony. "What about you?"

"The Wrecking Crew had devices on them that inhibited Extremis," Tony said. "Hurt like a bitch, but I managed to destroy them. Seeing as how Hansen was supposedly the only one who's fully aware of what Extremis is capable of, I needed to be sure."

"Question," Spider-Man said. "I think Hansen said something about dying if Extremis is shut off. Should that be a problem?"

"It wasn't shut off. It was hibernating." Tony made a face at the memory. "Or something. It was probably similar to an EMP, but I can't figure out more without actually studying the device. And since I lost it when the suit tore through my clothes, I can't look at it."

"What's the probability of S.H.I.E.L.D. having it?" Bruce asked, looking over at Clint and Natasha.

"Depends on what they were aware of," Clint answered. "Right now Fury's the only one with the clearance to know Tony's got Extremis. And depending on the size, they might not have found it; there was a lot of debris in that area from what I saw in the news."

"I have another question," Spider-Man ventured. "Who's the guy with the weird hairdo that's looming in the doorway like Slender Man?"

"You're one to talk, bub. What's with the outfit?" Logan stalked into view, sliding to a spot by the doorway and leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

"They're the only clothes I have! My house blew up."

"Tell JARVIS your sizes," Tony said. "He'll get what you need."

"I really shouldn't…"

"You should." Clint was grinning now. "You're an Avenger now, kid. Means you're on our payroll."

"What's with the statue by the TV?" Logan asked, pointing to a very silent War Machine. If Tony didn't know better, he'd say Rhodey wasn't even in it.

"Rhodey," Bruce explained shortly, glancing over.

"Rhodey?" Tony called, giving the armor a short push with his telekinesis.

The faceplate slid up a few seconds later, showing a rather disgruntled Rhodey. "I was watching you guys. Can't a man just stand in silence in peace without being aggravated?"

Tony squinted at him, bursting into a grin a moment later. "You dog! You fell asleep, didn't you?"

Rhodey sighed, but didn't deny it. He also didn't explain why he'd fallen asleep in the suit in the first place.

"He and Logan were up all night," Natasha said, reading Tony's unspoken question in his face. "Playing strip poker."

Tony opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Bruce shaking his head and warning, "Don't ask, Tony. Don't ask."

For once, Tony decided to take his advice. There were always the security cameras if he really needed to know, though he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to see Logan naked.

Later, after he'd showered and Steve had changed out of his bloody uniform to shower as well, he relaxed on their bed and wondered what was wrong. Steve didn't seem like himself, and Tony didn't know what was wrong. He didn't like it.

When Steve came out of the bathroom, wet hair tousled and sweatpants riding low on his hips (and Tony's body ached with want), Tony shook himself out of his reverie and focused on the matter on hand. But the words wouldn't come out. His tongue felt too heavy, so all he did was slip under the covers and lie on his side to face Steve, chest tight with an unnamed emotion.

Several minutes, silence still lay thick and uncomfortable over them, and Tony still didn't know what to do. Steve was on his back, staring stubbornly at the ceiling, and if Tony didn't know better (did he, really?), he'd say Steve was trying to avoid him.

But he needed to say this. If he didn't do it now, he would never. And then where would they be?

Taking a small breath to fortify himself, he asked quietly, "Is something wrong?"

Steve didn't jump, flinch, or startle in any other noticeable way. He did blink and roll over to face Tony, sliding a hand under his pillow as he did. His face was tense. "Tony…" The word was a mere breath.

"No, really." He took the plunge (because there was really no other word for it; he didn't do touchy-feely conversations). "Is there something we need to talk about? Because I don't think we've been this awkward since high school, and I didn't even know you then aside from Howard's stories, which weren't the best let me tell you – mmph." He was shut up by a pair of warm lips pressing against his own, swallowing whatever else he would have said.

When Steve drew back slightly, he pressed closer bodily, wrapping an arm around Tony and pulling him close so that they were pressed from chest to feet, legs tangling together so that neither could escape easily. Then Steve ducked his head and pressed his face against Tony's neck, breathing in shakily.

Blinking, it was all Tony could do it register this very rapid about face that didn't make a lot of sense. "Okay. So we don't have something to talk about? Because don't get me wrong, I'm all for hugging. And cuddling. I'm a hedonist at heart, you know me, but I'm kind of wondering what's up here."

There was silence for several more moments, the air simply filled with the sound of their breathing and the humming of the technology around them.

Finally, Steve sighed once again, his breath a warm rush against Tony's skin. Then he drew back, sliding up so he was looking Tony directly in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, bumping noses with Tony.

Tony blinked again, disconcerted. "For what? Because I can understand being a bit freaked out about the suit being in my bones."

There was a short huff of laughter. "For acting like a jerk earlier today. I was terrified, Tony. I didn't know what was going on with you, and then we had Mallen to take care of. I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that you were fine. If I'd touched you then, it wouldn't have mattered where we were; I wouldn't have let go."

"No objections from this end." Tony waggled his eyebrows, pleased when he elicited a grin that was a shade lighter than the laugh had been.

The lightness disappeared a moment later when Steve sighed (again; Tony was going to need three hands by the end of this conversation). "And then I didn't know what to say to make it better. It just seemed to be spiraling out of control."

Tony wet his lips, then offered quietly, "If it helps, it wasn't too bad. I mean, I got it."

"It was bad," Steve disagreed, gently squeezing Tony. "But thanks for trying to make me feel better."

"I'll have to go back to Richards's," Tony pointed out softly. "We're not done yet, but really close."

"Really?" Steve's smile was full with an emotion Tony wanted to identify as love, but didn't quite dare. "Tell me about it."

"Yeah. All right. But if you fall asleep on me…"

"Tony."

"Okay, fine. So we figured out it's vibranium we're looking for…"

The next morning found Tony very well rested after a night sleeping with Steve. Judging from his partner's sleepy smile when he woke up, Steve felt the same. This was followed with a bout of shower sex before they went to the kitchen for breakfast.

The wedding march heralded their arrival, earning them a grunt of good morning from Logan as he registered their entrance. He was clutching a beer as if it was his lifesaver, jaw set mulishly as he stared down at the newspaper on the table (the paper was dated from a week ago; Tony decided not to ask as the man was looking murderous enough already).

"Peggy," Steve said as an explanation, which was really all Tony needed to know what was going on (aside from the outdated newspaper).

"You haven't been able to find a song yet?" he asked her.

He threatened to gut me. The reply was sulky.

Tony turned to Logan, face impassive. "If you hurt Peggy, you'll find out why people don't usually like to cross me."

Logan eyed him for a long moment before acquiescing with a nod, returning his attention to the newspaper.

Awesome! Without further ado, Peggy jumped into Barbie Girl, making everyone present cringe.

Shooting Peggy a glare, Logan snatched up the newspaper and buried his face in it, resolutely ignoring Steve and Tony.

Spike's with Spidey! Peggy called after the chorus was thankfully over and she'd stopped.

Tony sighed melodramatically, leaning into Steve's side. "Does this mean I have to wait for coffee?"

Steve gave a low chuckle. "You could probably stand to drink a little less, Tony."

"Blasphemy."

"What's blasphemous?" Clint asked, poking his head into the kitchen. His hair was completely mussed up. "Because if it's sex in the kitchen, no one wants that. We eat here."

Tony turned to Steve, starting, "Steve—"

"No." Steve's response was adamant.

"But—"

"No." Smiling in amusement, Steve kissed him on the temple and went to the fridge to start making breakfast.

Huffing loudly while looking pointedly in Clint's direction, Tony sat down at the table, relaxing as the normality of the scene washed over him.

As Steve continued moving around the kitchen, they were eventually joined by Rhodey, Bruce, and Natasha (who glared at anyone who dared suggest she should probably be in bed). Spider-Man was last of all, Spike tagging along behind him. The AI practically squeaked with excitement on seeing Tony, bumped into his head as a greeting, and then sped off to get the coffee ready.

"Are you going to stay in that outfit all the time?" Clint asked, nodding at Spider-Man's uniform. "Because that can't be comfortable."

Shifting slightly in his spot on the wall (he was sitting on it), Spider-Man confessed, "It rides up a little in the crotch."

Rhodey winced sympathetically. "Ouch."

"It's not too bad." Spider-Man seemed to realize no one was buying it. "But, ah…I'm not sure actually."

"We won't tell anyone," Steve said, shooting the kid a smile over his shoulder as he cooked the bacon. "But it's your choice."

"You already know who my aunt is," Spider-Man hedged, glancing at Tony.

"Haven't looked into it," Tony said honestly. "I can be nosy, but your identity isn't something I'll stick my nose into for obvious reasons."

"You are Tony Stark, aren't you?" Rhodey asked suspiciously.

"Shut up."

Spider-Man tactfully ignored the exchange. "I was talking it over with Spike actually. He's a pretty good listener."

There were skeptical sounds from almost everyone in the kitchen. Logan remained conspicuously silent.

"So, uh…I'll be living with you guys anyway. I can't go walking around like this all the time; it'll start stinking. And I really don't want to put a paper bag over my head." Spider-Man brought a hand up to the back of his head, shifting nervously. "And I trust you. So, um…here goes."

They were all watching as the mask was tugged off from the back, the kid's head ducked down so all they saw at first was messy brown hair. Then he looked up, a sheepish grin on his face as his brown eyes flickered over each of them in turn.

"I'm Peter Parker," he said, still grinning, though it now looked more nervous than sheepish.

Clint spoke first. "Holy cow, you're a shrimp."

Natasha reached over and punched him in the shoulder. "He's an idiot; ignore him."

Holy cow, he's hot!

Tony looked over at Peggy strangely as Steve said before Clint could further make a fool of himself, "Thanks for trusting us. You won't regret it."

Peter grinned again, ducking his head. "I know. It's why I did it."

"You have the whole geek thing going on for you," Tony said, leaning forward and gesturing at him. "I bet you have glasses."

"I did. Don't really need them anymore."

Before anyone could go into the possible implications of that, JARVIS broke in, quiet and urgent. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but you should all see this."

The tabletop flickered to life, coming to an image of a newspaper. The surface was promptly cleared of all obstructions, Logan's newspaper folded away for good and his beer tossed into the trash can without looking over.

Perhaps the first thing to catch Tony's attention was the front page of today's newspaper, and it was maybe a good thing that Logan had last week's instead of today's. The large picture on the front page was of Iron Man's new look. The bold headlines screamed IRON MAN: CYBERHUMAN?

Tony had all of a second to think that the shit had really hit the fan now when JARVIS switched the view to a news station.

"Breaking news live from CNN. We've just received word that Tony Stark – also known as the superhero Iron Man – is not just a mutant." The footage from yesterday's fight played, the reporter speaking over it. "Yesterday it was thought he was an omega level mutant. But today we have another source offering the solution for how this was possible." The camera closed in on the suit breaking through Tony's clothes. "The Extremis program"—the words played over the screen—"was used by Tony Stark several weeks ago. Coincidentally – or maybe not? – at the same time as the Great Blackout. We'll have more for you soon on this new development."

JARVIS changed channels over to another news station, where practically the same thing was being said but with more vehemence considering it was FOX News.

"This isn't very good," Tony said, looking down at the table.

"You think?" Rhodey said sarcastically.

"But we can still spin this around—" Tony blinked as he registered an incoming call from Pepper. "S'cuse me. Pepper's on the line." He answered it. "Pepper."

"Please tell me you're watching the news right now, Tony."

"I am. We are."

"I can't handle this right now. I really, really can't. We're being bombarded with phone calls about your sanity, and the board is threatening a rebellion."

"Seeing as how I own the majority share, I don't really see how that's possible at this point."

"Tony—"

"But I get it. You're swamped. I'll deal with it here."

"We'll deal with it," Steve corrected firmly, squeezing Tony's shoulder.

"Make that we as a team," Tony amended, reaching up to return the squeeze before letting his hand drop. "It'll be okay, Pepper. Really."

There was a tired exhalation. "I hope so, Tony. I really hope so. Good luck. You'll need it."

"You, too." Tony closed the phone call, bringing a finger up to press against his temple. Now that he was paying attention, Extremis was going slightly crazy in the background with all the commotion from outside. And without more stringent safeguards he was going to get a mother of a migraine.

"Should we get him?" Clint asked, looking over at Steve. "Because there's really only one person responsible for this."

Tony pulled his hand away from his head. "JARVIS, get me everything you can find on Aldrich Killian. Hack into A.I.M. if you have to, but try not to show your hand unless you need to."

"Understood, sir."

Steve set his jaw. "There's nothing we can do to him that will turn this around. They already know, and he's probably released some of the classified information as well."

"He has," JARVIS confirmed.

"I'm heading back to the professor," Logan said, standing up abruptly. "Call us if you need anything."

"Will do," Steve assured him.

Logan swept out of the kitchen, and Tony wondered how he was going to get back to Winchester without a ride. Then again, it wasn't his problem; Logan had gotten here in the first place.

"So what's the plan?" Rhodey was looking expectantly at Steve.

Steve had barely looked at Tony before Tony said, "A press conference. We're going to need to contain this in some way before it really gets out of control. And considering what's happening up on the hill, it's going to need to be contained."

"A session has already been called to discuss the bill," JARVIS said quietly.

"Okay. That's kind of bad, but still workable." Tony closed his eyes, composed a quick memo, and sent it off to all the major news stations. Opening them, he said, "We've got an hour before the conference."

"Which will be where?" Natasha asked.

"Where it was last time." Tony flashed a smile. "We can't really afford to show any weakness right now, and changing the venue will be seen as one."

"All of us are going," Clint stated.

"Technically speaking," Rhodey said, an apologetic grimace on his face, "I shouldn't. The Iron Patriot is government property, and it would be bad if its pilot was seen with Iron Man right now."

"And Natasha shouldn't be out of bed," Bruce said, "let alone at a conference."

"I, uh…" Peter shrugged helplessly.

"You're still a minor," Steve told him gently. "There's no need for you to come. But I'm definitely going."

"So will I," Clint said.

"Okay, then." Tony couldn't help but feel relieved that he wouldn't have to face the sharks alone. "Let's get ready."

"You're never ready when facing sharks," Rhodey said wisely.

Unable to stop an amused grin, Tony really hoped he was telling the truth when he'd said this could still be turned around for the better.

The press conference turned out to be much worse than what Tony had expected. Much worse. To put it mildly, they were sharks who had scented blood and were coming closer for the kill. Not that Tony would let them do that, of course. It went against the grain for who he was. And Tony Stark didn't let the common horde of reporters run over him.

That said, it still didn't mean he was unaffected by what happened. By the time the conference was over, Steve, Tony, and Clint were all rather frazzled and on edge, even if they didn't show it aside from a few curt words with one another.

"Mr. Stark! Why did you keep it a secret?"

"What does the Extremis program mean for the Avengers?"

"Why did you take the Extremis program?"

"Were you responsible for the Great Blackout?"

And while no one had directly asked him the question or stated it, Tony could hear the underlying accusation in every question that had been fired at him: Why did you kill all those people?

He couldn't tell them that it had been a mistake – an accident. That he hadn't intended to do it; that he'd just wanted it to be quiet because it had hurt.

He didn't think he could tell anyone; it was his burden to deal with.

Settling back in his seat in the limo they'd taken to the conference, Clint said, "Well, that could've been worse."

Tony grimaced, knocking his head back against the window. "You think?"

"No, you're right. That was awful. Next time I'm wearing a hazard suit."

Steve tightened his lips, apparently not willing to join the banter. "What now?"

Tony sighed, turning his head to look at his partner. "Richards. He's going to need to know the details, and then we have to know what our next move is."

"And S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Clint asked.

"JARVIS is better at multitasking than me, courtesy of being a computer. I've put him on the task of drawing up a contract for me to look at."

"Wow. How hard was that for you to admit?"

"Very, very hard." Tony kicked Clint's ankle. "I know when to delegate if I need to. It just has to be someone I trust."

"And an omniscient butler is your first choice. Got it."

"JARVIS sees all." Tony waggled his eyebrows once before becoming serious again. "We're going to need S.H.I.E.L.D. for this. Much as I hate to admit it, they are rather good at their job when they're not being sneaky bastards, which is ninety percent of the time on a good day."

"Is that a fact?" Steve asked, amused.

"Yes."

"I was one of those sneaky bastards," Clint protested, though it sounded more rote than genuine.

"Still are," Tony said, leaning over to tap against the partition separating them from Happy. "Let us out here, Happy. We've got to talk with Richards."

"You got it, Boss." Happy pulled over to the front of Baxter Building. He didn't get out to help them out, considering that there was a horde of reporters even here.

Sharing expressions of disgust, the three prepared themselves for the bloodbath and stepped out, instantly being mauled by flashes of light and shouted questions that were indiscernible from one another. Ignoring it all, they pushed their way through the crowd, Steve leading the way due to his bulk and rather blank face that seemed to work at scaring off most of the reporters.

By the time they reached the lobby and stepped into the elevator, Tony had had his feet stepped on no less than six times, Clint looked thunderous, and Steve was straightening his shirt from where an overzealous reporter had grabbed it.

"I don't care how it's done, but I'm flying back home. I don't care if I have to grow wings, I'm not walking through that." Clint's voice was dark.

"I could ask JARVIS for a ride," Tony offered, subtly shaking out his right foot. "Or you could just stay here until it clears up some."

"Ben could probably help," Steve said, watching the floor counter change numbers as they ascended. "They usually don't like to stay around him because he tends to step on feet."

"Probably safer than a pair of wings," Clint conceded.

When they stepped out onto the floor where Tony had spent most of his waking hours the last week, it was relatively silent except for the technology humming and the quiet murmur of voices as Richards and Jane worked in the center of the room.

Jane saw them first. "Tony!"

Richards turned around. "Extremis?"

"Hello to you, too," Tony said pointedly, moving over to where they had been working, giving the screens a cursory look over. "And, yes, Extremis. It was supposed to be classified, hence why I didn't say anything. That, and you have a tendency to go overboard on shiny new things, so I thought I'd err on the side of caution."

"You?" Jane raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I can be cautious," Tony said indignantly, folding his arms across his chest below his power source.

"It backfired on you," Richards pointed out.

"When it comes to the common mass of people, things usually backfire on you," Tony answered. "Or haven't you noticed anything at all in the last couple of years?"

"True," Clint called, having wandered over to the still shattered windows to look out at the skyline.

"It was a classified mission," Steve explained briefly. "The details on Extremis were never supposed to be released to the mass public."

"Technically not entirely true," Tony disagreed. "It came to Pepper's desk because it was a research proposal. But it was buried behind a lot of red tape. It's just been classified because of recent developments."

"Not very classified right now," Jane pointed out dryly.

"Which is what we're working on," Steve said.

"You look like you're several steps behind whoever's pulling the strings," Richards said bluntly. "You can't contain this much damage, Tony. Something's going to give."

Tony gave a tight smile. "Isn't it our job to contain the damage that can't be contained?"

"Or at least avenge it if it gets too out of hand," Clint added, coming up behind them to peer curiously at the blue holographic screens hovering over the tablets on the ground. "I thought this wasn't released yet?"

"Prototypes." Tony turned back to Richards. "What've you got so far on the Bifrost?"

"Nothing yet," Jane answered. "We did sleep last night, Tony."

"Did you?" Richards looked surprised.

Steve groaned softly, shooting Tony a look that told him he had better not be following Richards's lead when it came to sleeping.

"I sleep," Tony said defensively.

"He does," Jane assured Steve. "He's pulled one all-nighter, but so have I." Her sharp eyes landed on Tony. "What does exactly Extremis do?"

Tony didn't sigh, but it was a very close thing. "It essentially turned my brain into a computer. I can connect to any type of technology."

"So the Great Blackout?" Richards sounded curious.

Tony smiled tightly, but didn't answer. "I can feel the Bifrost," he said instead. "If I connect to the TV." He nodded to the television, which was right now watching a pair of Asgardians eating what looked like an enormous boar.

Jane frowned for a moment before brightening. "So when you said the bridge was rainbow-colored, you were being serious? You saw it?"

"It might also have been a hallucination," Tony pointed out.

"But you know what this means?" Richards was sounding more excited by the word. "If we can figure out how to get the vibranium to hold its shape and also channel the power of the bridge, we can connect to it from here!"

Tony took a step back to get some distance between himself and this slightly manic Richards. "I'm good, but not that good, Reed. The best we can hope for is me getting in contact with Thor so he knows where we're at."

"Vibranium?" Clint sounded interested. "Isn't that what's in Cap's shield?"

"And in here." Tony tapped his chest. "And what's in the Tesseract and the bridge. It's got fingers in a lot of pies."

Clint grimaced. "That's ridiculously creepy, Tony. Please don't give the cube that mind controlled me limbs."

Tony shrugged, unapologetic. "Vibranium is apparently incredibly versatile. We're just trying to figure out what went into making the bridge along with vibranium."

Sue's tense, worried voice broke into their conversation. "Reed, you need to see this."

Turning around, Tony saw that Sue also looked worried. She gave him a nod and turned around to leave, Richards on her heels.

Sharing a glance with the others, Tony followed. Undoubtedly whatever Richards needed to see would also be important to him. Especially considering what was going on right now.

They ended up in the living room with Johnny and Grimm, both of whom were focused on the television.

Tony ended up behind the couch, Steve and Clint on either side of him while Richards and Sue stood to the side.

The TV was honed in on a man in front of a white building. He was speaking into a mike. "Taking into account recent developments, we've carefully considered our options. The vote was decisive. The House has passed the Superhuman Registration Act."

There was horrified silence from the occupants of the living room.

Tony was the first to break it, mouth unusually dry. "Shit."

"The problem isn't that he's a mutant and hid it from the public for years! The problem isn't that he keeps hold of a suit of unimaginable destructible power! The problem is that he is unaccountable for his actions, getting off scot free because he is a superhero and rich. Where is this going to stop? He needs to be held accountable for his actions!"

"He modified his own genetic makeup without a second's thought, causing untold loss of life. And without even an apology!"

"He tried to hide it. He tried to hide what he did, lying to our faces that he didn't know what caused our planes to fall out of the sky, our satellites to stop working, our power to turn off, our communications to stop. He lied. This has to stop."

"Letting our so-called protectors run around without being held accountable for what they do is unconscionable. If we don't know what's happening to them, what they do, how can we trust them? None of us knew what Tony Stark did to himself, not until he revealed himself. What's to stop other people from doing the same, thinking there will be no repercussions for their actions?"

"People like Spider-Man or that terrorist can't just come out of the woodworks like that. We would've seen signs earlier. Those kinds of abilities aren't easily hidden. Something must have happened to give them these abilities. Maybe Tony Stark was jealous; maybe he was tired of being the human in a team of people who are more. The point is that no one should be able to do this. Not without supervision or some kind of higher approval."

"It's too dangerous."

"He killed thousands of people because of his thoughtlessness!"

"Merchant of Death—"

"I thought he changed—"

"—you can't change a zebra's stripes—"

"This is why I approve of the Superhuman Registration Act. God bless America, and God save us all."

At day's end, Tony was utterly exhausted. He wasn't the only one. Richards also looked extremely frazzled, partly because they had just spent the better part of the day hashing out a suitable compromise for the SHRA with Steve. They'd finally come to a sort of resolution that might work.

So while Tony had already sent a missive off to the Senate, hopefully to derail them before they could also pass the SHRA, Richards had gotten into contact with the court system, filing a brief. Due to his prior experiences with Doom, he already had some contacts within the legal system, enough so that they would have a fast track to the Supreme Court.

"Never thought they'd be useful like this," Richards had said before going off to get the information he needed.

Hearing Steve say something, Tony blinked blearily, barely aware that he had conked out on the couch. "What?"

Steve was sitting next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Think it'll work?"

Tony exhaled loudly, returning his gaze to the ceiling. "Honestly, I'm not sure. It has to. It needs to."

"If it doesn't," Steve said, "we'll manage. I mean it, Tony."

Tony managed to scrounge up a weak smile. "I know, Steve."

Steve sighed, but said nothing else. "Bed?"

Groaning softly, Tony said, "Please. Between Extremis and this, my brain's fried."

Laughing lowly, Steve shifted his hand to gently squeeze the nape of Tony's neck. "Never thought I'd hear the day where you were eager for sleep."

"It's rare, but it does happen."

"Good to know. Now let's go. We're going to have another long day tomorrow."

That statement of Steve's turned out to be truer than any of them had anticipated. Come the next morning, the Senate fortunately hadn't yet come to a decision on the SHRA. They had responded to Tony's message, however, expressing some interest in hearing what he had to say (which might also have had to do with the veiled threat Tony had put in there more than anything else).

There wasn't much of an advance on the legal front, aside from the notice that the court couldn't technically do anything unless SHRA was made law or about to become law. Since that side was a dead end for the moment until Congress continued pushing SHRA through, they had turned their focus on the issue of Aldrich Killian and Mallen.

Killian was perhaps less of a problem than Mallen, considering Killian was a human and Mallen was a super powered terrorist who was still at large.

Tony didn't really want to know what Mallen was doing at the moment, but he thought that it couldn't possibly be anything good.

"I'd say we should hit him with everything we've got," Clint declared, "but we tried that and it didn't work out so well. Even Hulk had a tough time keeping him down."

"Speak for yourself," Johnny said, drinking the rest of the glass of orange juice he was holding. "I can't remember the last time we fought someone with fire abilities."

"You blew up half the street," Grimm grunted.

"See? Fun."

"The point isn't to incur property damage," Sue said, shooting Johnny a warning look. "It's to find a way to bring him in without causing unnecessary destruction."

"Considering the guy's crazy strength, I can see where we might have a problem," Clint said. "He's not just gonna come in. He hates the government."

Tony hadn't heard that before. "What exactly did he say to you guys?"

Clint shrugged. "The usual, you know. He's going to smash all of us, kill us before we can defeat him, and a curse on our fathers' houses."

"Really?" Grimm sounded skeptical.

"Maybe not the last bit, but everything else is one hundred percent true."

"He was going straight to the Capitol," Steve said.

"But that's in D.C., not New York City. Where'd he take the wrong turn?" Tony was getting a bad feeling, the kind that usually said things were going to get even worse before possibly (maybe) getting better.

"Considering his abilities," Richards said, "we should've seen some sign of him before. People like that don't form in a vacuum."

Clint was silent for five seconds before saying, "How much do you wanna bet that Aldrich Killian has something to do with this? Because I find it too much of a coincidence that the news about Extremis hits the shelves the day after Mallen attacks and the Wrecking Crew has those devices."

"We still need to find him." Steve didn't look at all happy.

Looking down at his tablet, which was displaying the contract JARVIS had drawn up for S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony said absently, "JARVIS is on the ball for that. I can call and ask how far he's gotten."

Extremis pinged at that moment, alerting him to a breaking news forecast. Quickly opening it on the tablet, Tony placed it on the table, heart skipping a beat as he saw what it was about.

"More news on the Extremis program just in. We have received word that the domestic terrorist known as Mallen"—footage played of the Avengers against Mallen, freezing on the frame of him hitting Natasha with an electric attack—"was also enhanced with the Extremis program. There are still questions as to why it has appeared differently on Tony Stark than Mallen, but it is possible that Tony Stark hasn't revealed everything. He held a press conference yesterday, but failed to elaborate further on the Extremis program's capabilities, citing it as classified. Yet we must ask: Is it safe for such a dangerous program to exist? And for people such as Mallen to use it?"

"Shit." Tony pushed back from the table, letting the news still play. "Okay, that answers that question. Killian is involved."

"You'd think that Hansen would know that her partner was a complete psycho," Clint remarked darkly.

"She's too much of an idealist." Tony couldn't help but remember her fervent speech when he'd been forced to work on the program. "She might have suspected, but didn't want to know."

"Like someone else I can name," Grimm said, giving Tony a very pointed look that he ignored.

"We're not pointing fingers at anyone here," Steve said firmly. "We can't afford to, not with this going on."

"Does this mean afterward is free pickings?"

Tony didn't hear Steve's reply, distracted as he was with Extremis alerting him that Nick Fury was ringing him. "I'm going to the bathroom," he said to no one, standing up.

Noting that no one was following, he went out into the living room, slumping against the wall as he closed his eyes and took the call. "What do you need?"

"We've got Aldrich Killian in custody," Fury said without preamble. "Your AI alerted us as to his whereabouts, and we had someone in the right position to take him in."

Tony felt relief seep through him, but it wasn't enough. "Great. Anything else? Can we come in to talk with him?"

"We've got already got some answers from him; seeing that Maya Hansen was in our custody did a lot already." Fury sounded darkly amused. "For one thing, he provided Mallen with the dose of the Extremis program. For another, it's a different batch from what you've got. Apparently they made some adjustments after you came in."

Tony bit back the curses he wanted to let loose. It wasn't the time for that. "Terrific."

"It gets better. Mallen is on the verge of hitting the Capitol on his revenge kick. He was a small-time terrorist before, obsessed with taking down the government. Now he's got the guns to back up his vendetta."

"I can get the Avengers—"

"Don't. Killian assured me that they're not likely to take him down, not with the abilities he has."

"Then what do you suggest, Fury? I can't let him do it."

"Then don't. He said they can't do it and left it at that, but Hansen was moderately more cooperative once we told her what charges she could be facing if it got out what really happened. She said that another Extremis user would be capable of taking him down, considering they would have the speed to keep up with his own. And who else do we know was injected with Extremis?"

Tony opened his eyes, glancing over in the direction of the kitchen. It took him all of a second to make his decision, but then it wasn't much of a decision really. His mind had already been made up. "Where is he now?"

"We'll send you his coordinates." Fury paused for a moment. "And, Stark? Good luck."

"Thanks." Tony hung up without another word, pushing himself upright. He used his telekinesis to push off the ground, needing to make a silent escape. He couldn't let the others know what he was going to do.

Steve would never let him do this by himself. But Tony also couldn't let Steve join him. Not if he had to do what he needed to in order to take down Mallen. Besides, Natasha had already been injured, and while Steve was miles more durable than Natasha, he was still human. And Tony wasn't. Not entirely.

Besides, this was his responsibility. If it hadn't been for him, Extremis would still be unusable. He'd rewritten the code enough for Hansen to inject him with it and for Killian to adjust it so that Mallen was out there. Indirectly, he was responsible for the ball that had set SHRA in motion.

Really, he was just wiping his ledger clean. Natasha wasn't the only one who had red in it.

It looked like he would always be apologizing to Steve in the end, for broken promises and more.

The Extremis-modified Mark XII was honestly much faster than any of his other suits, even beyond the specifications he had implemented. He didn't know if it was the power source in his chest that was the difference or how Extremis was just more efficient than anything he could create with his own two hands. Then again, since Extremis was technically him at the moment, it was probably his own genius brain that resulted in the extra speed (yeah, he had an ego; was that such a surprise?).

In any case, it meant that he arrived in Washington D.C. much faster than he would have prior to Extremis. Mallen had already moved from the original coordinates Fury had sent, but updates from S.H.I.E.L.D. made sure that Tony kept an eye on him. Word had already been sent to the local police from Fury that Iron Man would be dealing with the terrorist and to clear the streets leading to the Capitol.

Tony had also been receiving calls from Steve, but had told JARVIS to keep them on silent for now and to make sure that the others couldn't follow. Even if they somehow managed to subvert JARVIS, they would still take time to get to D.C.

"Fingers crossed that this'll go well," Tony muttered, eyes scanning the readouts from the HUD.

"I have every faith in you, sir." JARVIS's tone was reassuring.

"Thanks, JARVIS." Tony narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of Mallen stalking through the streets, which were thankfully empty. "Showtime."

"I would wish you good luck, sir, but you will not need it."

Tony zipped over Mallen and landed, blocking Mallen's path. "You flatter me." He addressed Mallen next. "Mallen, hands up and down on your knees. I'll be taking you into custody."

Mallen sneered; his teeth weren't anything pretty to look at. "Iron Man. Couldn't stay away?"

Tony didn't respond except to say, "Hands up and down on your knees. I don't want to attack you."

"That's too bad." Mallen put up his hands, but offensively rather than what Tony had wanted to see. "Because I'm not budging. I'm going to put down our government one way or another, and you can't stop me."

"You know," Tony said, his own hands up, "I have this thing that when people say I can't do something, I usually make a point to do it. They said the arc reactor couldn't be miniaturized or used for clean energy, and I did it. They said I couldn't be a superhero, and I became one."

"So let me put it this way then." Mallen's hands were crackling with lightning. "You will move, or I'll take care of you."

"And here's another thing," Tony continued, eyes fixed on Mallen's hands. "When people say I should do something, I usually do the opposite if I don't agree with it. Like building weapons when I was in a cave. I didn't agree with that. So if you tell me to move, I'm just gonna stay put right here."

The attack came quickly, but Tony reacted just as quickly, firing his thrusters to get out of the way. Then he fired, not bothering to regulate the power, remembering what the others had said on Mallen's durability. His attack hit Mallen in the arm as he brought them up to protect his face, but did nothing other than burn his clothes off and redden his skin.

"That all you got?" Mallen snarled. "Your team couldn't handle me, Iron Man. What makes you think you can?"

Tony launched himself at Mallen, grabbing hold of his shirt and taking off into the air. He threw Mallen into the ground a few seconds later, using the other's inertia to bury him in the street.

"Because I'm not like the others," Tony said as Mallen kicked off a boulder of rubble. "So, please, Mallen, surrender."

"You can't handle the heat," Mallen shouted, throwing a chunk of rubble that was batted away before even touching Tony. "You stopped making weapons because you couldn't handle knowing that they were killing people. You gave up on our people because you couldn't deal with what was happening. People die when weapons are used, it's a fact."

"Doesn't mean it can't be stopped."

"But you haven't stopped. You've just turned yourself into a weapon."

"Not by choice." Tony swiped his arm sideways, sending Mallen flying across the street without any warning. "Unlike you. How much did Killian have to pay you until you agreed to take Extremis? Or were you so eager for revenge you just agreed without any thought as to what would happen?"

Mallen got up from where he'd been thrown into the side of a building. "The government is nothing but a bunch of old fools who have passed their time. I'm just doing all of you a favor."

"Not much of a favor if no one wants it." Tony had a hand up, ready to release a blast. "You don't have to do this, Mallen. Just come in now, and we can avoid this."

Baring his teeth, Mallen let out a harsh laugh. "You're a naïve fool if you think I'll turn back from this. I've been given the power and the ability to do what I need to. What makes you think you can stop me? Even if you defeat me now, I'll be back. There isn't a prison on Earth that can hold me now."

Tony landed on the ground, repulsors still at the ready. "Actually, there are a few that could. Don't knock 'em 'til you've tried 'em."

Mallen studied him for a moment, face impassive. Then he broke into a fierce grin. "Oh, I see. You didn't stop because you couldn't handle it. You're too good. That's why you stopped."

Tony felt like scoffing. "You're more melodramatic than Doom on a bad day. That supposed to be intentional?"

"There's no backup, no one to pull you out of this," Mallen continued, his hands clenching into fists. "Last chance, Iron Man."

Behind the faceplate, Tony smiled grimly. "Like I said before, Mallen. I'm not like the others."

Without warning, he took off, lifting Mallen off the ground simultaneously. Two seconds later, he shot another repulsor blast at him, this one higher powered and more focused than the last. It hit Mallen directly in the chest, sending him flying through a building as Tony let him go.

He followed seconds later, climbing through the wreckage that had been a wall. This time Mallen's shirt was gone, his chest red, and his breathing heavier than usual.

"Give up yet?" Tony asked.

There was no warning save for a sudden crackling before lightning struck him in the centerpiece, hurling him back out of the building. He hit the street with a loud crash, practically buzzing with energy as the HUD readouts showed the sudden power boost from Mallen's helpful attack (though it certainly hadn't intended to be).

Tony had just pushed to his feet when Mallen was in his face again, punching him down into the street and straddling him.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," Mallen said, grinning down at him.

"I'm taken." Tony pried him off with his telekinesis and flung him across the street. "And I don't do that scene."

There was no response. Mallen didn't get to his feet, instead taking off from his knees directly into a dead sprint right at Tony.

Sighing, Tony put up a shield that Mallen bounced off of. Lighting arced out at him, which Tony blocked unthinkingly with a hand. Surprisingly, his gauntlet diverted the attack into two separate streams that went around him. He barely felt the impact, the suit absorbing the little energy that had made it through.

"Lightning isn't the best thing to use against me," Tony said, watching as Mallen clambered to his feet again. Tony began moving in on him, steadily feeding power to the chest RT. "You can still stop this, Mallen."

Once again, Mallen said nothing, clenching and unclenching his hands as if he would like to pummel the shit out of Tony.

Tony mentally invited him to do so.

The mental invitation was taken a moment later, Mallen sprinting toward him again. Before he could reach Tony, the chest RT fired, hitting him in the stomach and knocking him into another building and through the wall.

Waiting for several moment, Tony wondered where Mallen had gone. The answer was answered another moment later when the suit's periphery alarms went off and he looked up to see Mallen attacking him from the sky. Well…you had to give the guy points for creativity.

Extending a hand, Tony stopped Mallen cold shortly before he made contact. "Fancy seeing you here," he said conversationally. With a flick of his fingers, he dropped Mallen onto the ground directly in front of his feet. "You're in over your head, Mallen."

"Sir—" JARVIS was breaking in.

Tony ignored him, his focus on Mallen. "I'll repeat what I said before: turn yourself in and it might just work out for the better."

"Sir, please—"

Mallen suddenly reared up, about to deal a devastating punch when Tony caught it, hand closing around Mallen's fist.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Tony repeated.

"Sir, the Avengers are here!" This time JARVIS managed to finish his statement.

Tony frowned, half of his attention now on Mallen. "What? How?"

"The Captain's override." JARVIS was apologetic.

"Shit. Where—" A punch to the faceplate cut Tony off, Mallen taking advantage of Tony's distraction to attack him.

Before Tony could regroup, Mallen had punched him again, this time directly against the RT. The sensation was enough to force air out of Tony's lungs, his nerves tingling from the force. That was going to need to be fixed pronto. When he wasn't in a fight against a sociopathic would-be killer (or maybe he should just upgrade that to plain killer, because the file JARVIS had pulled up on the guy showed that he had been in this business for a while).

Another swift punch knocked Tony to the ground, and he put his hands up in time to block the follow-up punches. He was frantically scanning the area for any sign of the Quinjet, because that was the only way Steve could have gotten here so quickly.

And then he heard the humming, so familiar that it had just blended into the background. But what couldn't be so easily hidden was the distinctive sound of its engines, and Mallen had obviously heard them, too.

Mouth twisting into a mockery of a grin, Mallen kept his eyes locked onto the eye slits of the Iron Man helmet. As he did, Tony felt something shut off all the Quinjet's programs and kill the engines, immediately quieting the humming. Panicking, he reached out to where he had felt its presence, buffering it enough so it wouldn't crash against the street too violently.

"Oh, a weakness," Mallen crooned, still grinning. "Your team is here, Iron Man. What do you think will happen next?"

"You coming in." Tony managed to keep his voice calm, even as his mind was racing.

Mallen laughed lowly. "I don't think so. I think we'll all have a lot of fun now. You can't stop me from having my way with all of them; you're just one man."

Tony suddenly twisted, rolling them over so that Mallen was under him. "I'm told I'm great at multitasking."

Sneering, Mallen just inhaled before releasing a stream of fire directly into Tony's face. There was sudden crackling as well and then electricity overloaded all of Tony's sensors, sending his heart racing as the power fed into his already overpowered centerpiece.

Flinging himself off to get away, Tony fired blindly at where Mallen had been, pouring most of the power he had just been given into it. The attack made contact as he heard a rather satisfying cry of pain.

"JARVIS, report!" he snapped.

JARVIS's reply was swift. "The team is fine. They are currently exiting the Quinjet; no injuries visible."

Tony just had to turn slightly to see Captain America, Hawkeye, and Hulk approaching them. Of course Black Widow wasn't there, but it was a surprise to see that the Fantastic Four hadn't come and that Rhodey also wasn't there.

Turning back to a panting Mallen, who wiped away a stream of blood from his mouth, Tony said curtly, "You can still turn yourself in, Mallen."

"If you knew what it was like to experience loss, to see your family killed before your eyes because of the government, you wouldn't do this," Mallen said lowly, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet, balancing on one hand as he remained crouched.

"No, you intimidate them."

"Good God, you're a woman! I honestly couldn't have called that. I mean, I would apologize, but isn't that what we're going for? I thought of you as a soldier first."

"Is it cool if I take a picture with you?"

"Please, no gang signs. …No, throw it up, I'm kidding. Yeah, peace. I love peace. I'd be out of a job for peace."

"Don't waste it… Don't waste your life, Stark."

"I do know it," Tony said quietly. "A good man I knew, soldiers who protected me with their lives…they died because of my mistakes."

"Do you want to feel it again?" Mallen asked angrily, hands crackling with electricity. "Because I can do it. Your lover-boy and your team will be killed so easily. And you'll know it's because you failed. Or you can let me go."

"Iron Man—"

Tony's world was zeroed in on Mallen, whose mouth was slowly twisting into a smirk. His world slowed down, time creeping by increments as Mallen raised a hand, fingers extending to fire his attack at a person over his shoulder.

Steve.

It was a matter of instinct as he reacted, world speeding up as he did. First was Steve; he threw him back using his telekinesis, flinging him into Hulk's rather surprised body. Second was Mallen's attack, diverted with a blink as he sent it crackling into the sky to dissipate harmlessly. Third was Mallen himself as Tony barreled into him, flying them both down the street to do what he needed.

They hit the street hard, Tony rolling on top of Mallen. "Last chance, Mallen."

Snarling, Mallen kicked his way out from under Tony, ending up on top once again. "You're all going to pay, I swear!"

Clutching Mallen's shoulder so he wouldn't escape, Tony fired his RT at full power. Considering all the electricity Mallen had pumped him full of, it was a lot. The attack blasted a hole directly through Mallen's chest.

Amazingly enough, the man was still alive and spitting, even if his face was white with pain. "That won't kill me, Iron Man. You can't—"

Tony set his repulsor directly against Mallen's ear, looking him directly in the eyes, even if all Mallen could see was an emotionless mask. "I'm not a good man, Mallen." With those words, he fired once again, pouring all the power he could into the attack.

With almost no sound, Mallen's head exploded in a spray of fine red mist, settling against Tony. His headless body hovered motionless for one breathless second, then collapsed with a thud against Tony, sliding off slightly to the side.

Breathless, Tony cast him off, sitting upright. He couldn't feel Mallen's blood on his face, but his mind knew enough of how it felt that he couldn't help but shudder in his suit, thankful that the suit hid his reaction from his team.

Slowly climbing to his feet, Tony waited silently as his team approached him, Hulk snorting in displeasure at the fight having been taken away from him. Clint had his bow out and an arrow ready, and his face was carefully blank, eyes flickering from Tony's figure to Mallen's headless corpse. As for Steve…

Steve's lips were pinched, and Tony could see him breathing heavily (panic or exertion?). What was exposed of his face was even whiter than usual, so that meant he had probably been panicking for however long Tony had needed to take on Mallen.

Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, Tony offered, "He's dead."

"Yeah," Clint answered. He relaxed, sliding the arrow back into his quiver. "The lack of a head kind of gave that away."

"I did have a reason," Tony said again, looking right at Steve as he said this.

Steve didn't say anything, but did exhale loudly.

Sensing that now wasn't the time to talk about this, no matter how badly he wanted it, Tony bit his tongue on whatever else he needed to say. As he did, the distinctive humming of the Quinjet – another one – filled his senses. He looked up to see where it was coming from, seeing it slowly approach and ready itself for landing.

When it landed, the ramp descended and a person stepped down. The sight caused all the Avengers to freeze.

"No fucking way," Clint said eloquently.

Steve's mouth snapped shut in an obvious effort to restrain himself from shouting. Tony was less inclined to stop his mouth from running off in a litany of colorful swears, but did so in favor of stepping in front of Mallen's corpse; S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't going to get its hands on it.

Tony calmly spun around and fired up both blasters and the chest RT to annihilate what was left of Mallen's corpse, destroying what was left of Extremis. Then he turned back to the person at the foot of the Quinjet, voice quiet with restrained anger as he said, "Fuck off."

The person sighed. Then: "Afternoon, gentlemen," Agent Phil Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division said.

"You mind telling me why the hell you didn't tell us earlier that he wasn't dead?" Tony demanded furiously, gesturing at Coulson as he glared at Fury. "Or did it just slip your mind? Oops, I forgot that Agent Coulson was alive?"

"It was classified," Fury said calmly, not blinking in the face of Tony's wrath. And considering Tony was still in a suit of death, that was commendable; but Tony wasn't feeling very charitable right now.

"Classified." Tony snorted with disgust just to show what he thought of that.

"We couldn't risk the information leaking," Fury explained, sharing a look with Coulson. "He was undercover with Hansen and Killian, investigating the Extremis program. He was the one who brought Killian in when your AI found him."

"And he's the one who was keeping an eye on the program as a whole?" Clint asked, arms folded across his chest, an unhappy expression on his face.

"Yes," Coulson answered, hands clasped in front of him. He seemed utterly unrepentant as to what he had done for the last year and some months.

"Fan-fucking-tasting," Tony said. "Are there any other secrets you're hiding under that coat of yours, Fury?"

"Plenty," Fury said evenly, "and only one of which is any of your business."

That made Tony pause, eyes narrowing as his mind whirled through possible options. "What?"

Fury held out a hand. "The contract, Stark."

Rolling his eyes just to show what he thought of Fury's demand, Tony accessed the contract JARVIS had drawn up and which he hadn't needed to adjust. He mailed it to Fury's address. "I don't have a hard copy on hand, but I did just send an e-mail. Print it out."

Coulson touched a finger to his ear, quietly ordering someone on the other end to do just that.

"I understand the need for secrecy," Bruce said, sounding remarkably calm for a man who had only recently downsized from being a green rage monster who had been more disappointed than angry a scant half hour ago, "but if something endangers one of us, we would like to know. It doesn't exactly make me happy." He smiled dryly, inclining his head down to give Fury a look.

The look served its purpose in a way that only Bruce Banner could achieve. "You'll get the details once the contract's signed. Then my ass is safe, and you don't want to know what'll happen otherwise."

Tony narrowed his eyes again, eyes flickering between Fury and Coulson. He'd suspected before that there had been more going on behind the scenes than he was aware of, but hadn't had it so blatantly shoved in his face until now. In hindsight, it didn't make all that much sense for Fury to detain Steve and the others when he'd been kidnapped by A.I.M. Unless he had an ulterior motive that had been served by the short delay.

Either way, it would probably end up with a Captain America who was even more pissed than he was right now. Steve hadn't said a word since getting on the Quinjet with Coulson.

There was a thick uncomfortable silence as they waited for the papers. Thankfully, it didn't take too long before an agent dropped the papers off and left, leaving a pen behind.

Fury looked over them, eye scanning the fine print.

"You can make adjustments if you need," Tony said. "I reserve the right to make my own after."

Surprisingly, Fury didn't take too long to read through the proposed contract. "You're not trying to screw us over, Stark." His mouth curled into a grin. "I like that." He took the pen and signed, handing it over to Tony a moment later.

Frankly, Tony was slightly stunned. He honestly hadn't expected Fury to accept the first draft. It looked like JARVIS had done an exceptionally good job this time; Tony would have to do something for him.

He let the gauntlet on his right hand sink back into his body, quickly scribbling his signature before covering his hand again.

"I'll be the director's witness," Coulson said, stepping forward.

A moment later Steve did the same for Tony, lips still pressed together in what Tony assumed was disapproval (of what, he wasn't exactly sure). His frame was tight with tension, and Tony just knew there was going to be some sort of blowup soon. Hopefully not before they'd vacated S.H.I.E.L.D.'s premises because Tony didn't really want to air his dirty laundry in front of a spy organization.

Nodding sharply in approval, Fury called for Hill to take the contract and file it. "I want the room under a complete blackout," he instructed her. "No recordings of anything going on here. Is that understood?"

"Clear, sir." Hill nodded sharply, locking eyes with Tony before leaving, a brief smile crossing her face as she turned.

A few minutes later the windows into the room all opaqued and Tony could feel most of the surveillance electronics shutting off.

"Take care of the ones that are still online," Fury said shortly, looking directly at Tony.

Tony raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. Reaching out with Extremis meant it was easy enough to make sure whatever remained was quickly shut off. Then he was just left with the general humming of the Helicarrier's tech and some awareness of JARVIS's presence, who had apparently left a remnant of himself in the system.

"Done," he announced. "You gonna tell us what has your panties in a twist now?"

"The Council," Fury said. "I'm sure you know who they are."

"The head honchos behind S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Clint asked.

"The ones I report to," Fury confirmed. "They've been keeping an eye on our activities ever since Loki. A very close eye. We've got something on them, but they've got something on us, too."

"SHRA." Steve's voice was filled with utter conviction as he spoke for the first time.

"Correct, Captain. They weren't the brains behind the bill, but they are responsible for most of the muscle that's supporting it."

"So you pushed me to separate the Avengers from S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony realized, feeling slightly stupid now.

Fury shrugged unapologetically. "Your mistrust of us went a long way, Stark. It helped. So did what happened later with A.I.M."

Tony closed his eyes, mouth dry as he took in what this meant. He felt duped and very stupid for having played right into Fury's hands. And also furious, because Fury didn't have to deal with having killed thousands of people just like that; that was all on Tony.

Opening his eyes, Tony pointed out, "It was also what gave them the final push for SHRA."

Fury waved a dismissive hand. "It would've happened one way or another. Killian was just setting in motion something that's been a long time in coming. It means that something else can also happen now."

"You're in a unique position, Stark," Coulson said. "You're a well-known face everywhere in the world, and now you've been outed as a mutant. Do you realize the magnitude of this? No other mutant has ever been in this kind of a position before. Not even Charles Xavier is so well known."

"You're saying he can start pushing for reforms to better integrate mutants into society," Bruce said.

"Right in one, Doctor," Coulson confirmed.

"That's great," Tony said sharply, "but you're forgetting the giant boulder on the hill that's SHRA. It's coming, and I'm not going to be able to stop it by myself."

"You've been busy," Fury said factually. "The Senate is willing to consider the proposal you, Richards, and Rogers came up with. It's a matter of getting enough support from outside as well so the House also agrees. It's a major change from the original bill, and not everyone's going to be happy." His tone made it clear he was talking about the Council.

"In case you didn't notice, sir"—Clint sounded highly sarcastic on the last word—"the outside world would rather lynch Tony Stark than listen to what he has to say."

"That's harsh," Tony complained. "They tend to want to lynch me even on a good day; it'll get better."

"Your perception is skewed," Clint informed him, "and as such your statement can't be used."

Rolling his eyes, Tony put up his hands to signal he'd be quiet. He'd rather get this over with quickly and go home.

"Stark is right," Coulson surprisingly said. "Public opinion changes quickly. In fact, it's already becoming more divided than what it was this morning, courtesy of your fight." He smiled knowingly at Tony.

"Let me get this straight," Steve addressed Fury, "because I'm not sure I entirely understand what you're trying to do here. Are you trying to pass SHRA?"

"Not in the form it's in now," Fury said. "But something is going to be needed, if not now, then eventually. Stark can tell you what I mean."

Steve, Clint, and Bruce looked over at Tony, eyebrows raised in inquiry.

Tony sighed lightly, but obliged Fury. "The way the superhero community is now, it's a matter of time before something blows up and we have a major backlash on our hands. We've been lucky so far. The few amateur superheroes who crop up out of the woodworks – like Spider-Man – have done a good job. But like Mallen showed, that's not going to last forever. We're going to have bad superheroes coming out, and we need some way of making sure that we can keep an eye on them or have some sort of system in place to catch them.

"SHRA as it stands now is too intrusive. We don't know what the government has in store for anyone who registers, but Richards tells me it isn't good. The goal is compromise: give the government what it wants while making sure that our own interests are safe."

"Exactly," Fury agreed. "And you've been doing it so far. Keep at it."

"What about you?" Clint asked.

"Keeping the Council busy so they don't look too closely at what's happening. The Senate's going to call a meeting to discuss that proposal you drew up. If I were to guess – and I'm not a guessing man – it's going to end up in the hands of the court."

"Richards already asked," Tony said. "They said they can't do anything unless SHRA is close to passing or already made into a law."

Fury grinned smugly. "I've got a hell of a lot more strings to pull than Reed Richards, Stark. You'll have a hearing on the legitimacy of SHRA in the next couple of months. You'll have a meeting with the Senate before that."

"And A.I.M.?" Tony asked, because he had to be sure.

"We've got agents on the inside," Coulson said. "I was one of them." His lips twitched into the semblance of a smile. "Because you took care of M.O.D.O.K., the leadership fell into the hands of his son."

"M.O.D.O.K. had a son?"

"Not the way we do it," Coulson assured him, interpreting Tony's disgust correctly. "But he is the biological son of M.O.D.O.K., and right now he's in charge of A.I.M.'s operations. He's not half as crafty as his father, which is for the best considering what M.O.D.O.K. was capable of."

"And Killian was operating under his instructions?" Bruce asked.

"At this point we can't be sure whether Killian did it under his own initiative or under orders." Coulson shrugged, hands still clasped in front of him. "Either way, he's not getting any more orders from that end."

"He wants to talk to you," Fury said to Tony, nodding at him. "It's up to you."

Tony glanced over at the others, receiving shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Let's find out what he was thinking."

"He didn't tell us much," Coulson warned. "He's probably just going to gloat."

Tony looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you upset? Because you sounded upset there."

Coulson sighed, rolling his eyes in that subtle way only he could. "If you'll follow me then."

By the time they made it to Killian's room, which was really a rather comfortable cell with one wall that was entirely windows (also the same one looking into the Helicarrier; he didn't have a view), Tony had taken off his helmet, wanting a full field of vision rather than the restricted range he'd had.

"Your conversation will be recorded," Coulson informed him a short distance away, "but you already knew that."

Tony didn't bother to say anything beyond a faint hum to acknowledge that he'd heard. His eyes were fixed on the room where Aldrich Killian was in; the man had seen them approach and was leaning against the glass partition separating him from the main hallway, watching them with a half-smile that seemed very smug for a guy behind a glass wall.

"I've got it from here," Tony murmured, continuing onward while Coulson remained behind, turning his back to give them some semblance of privacy.

As he approached Killian, he came up directly to the glass, only two feet separating them. There was a minute of silence, during which Tony's eyes didn't leave Killian's.

Finally, Killian smiled and said, "Mr. Stark. It's an honor to meet you."

"I can't say the same."

Killian chuckled. "You know, I've always wanted to meet you. You're a legend in my field of work. And here you are. Pity it's like this."

Tony smiled back. "Never heard of you."

Killian chuckled again. "Too bad." He hadn't stopped smiling.

"You want to get to the point? You wanted to talk to me, so I assume you have something to say other than how much of a fan boy you were. Are." Tony smiled again, pleased to see that Killian's smile faltered.

"All right, Mr. Stark." Killian shifted to place his arm against the glass above his head, leaning against it. "Let's talk shop: the Extremis program."

Tony didn't blink. "What about it?"

"It's a marvel, right?" Killian grinned. "It took a lot of work to get to where we were when Maya took her work to you."

"I hadn't noticed." Tony grinned to show he wasn't serious.

Killian grinned in response, eyes brightening now. "Amazing, right?"

"You're right. It is amazing." Tony smiled, eyes flickering down as he considered what to say next. "But that begs the question: what were you thinking when you injected a guy like Mallen with it?"

"Now, see, that's where it gets good." Killian's smarmy grin was back (Tony really wanted to punch it). "There were always different batches of Extremis. Maya brought you the one that would get your attention, considering your suit." His eyes scanned over Tony's armored form.

"Consider my attention caught." Tony smiled charmingly.

Killian laughed. "You're a charmer, Mr. Stark. Did you ever wonder how we obtained the ninety-eight percent fatality rate?"

Tony didn't hesitate, although he was beginning to get a sick feeling. The files Maya had given him hadn't had that info. "I assumed it was through simulations."

"Experiments." The word was crisply enunciated. "We had eager volunteers willing to try it for science."

Tony was unable to stop horror from showing on his face. "The program wasn't even complete! Why would you do that?"

"Maya's program wasn't complete. Mine was simpler; you saw my handiwork earlier today, though I used some of Maya's coding for him."

"How many different versions of Extremis did you make?" Tony demanded.

"Just the two." Killian's lips quirked. "Or three, really, since my original version wasn't intended to link into technology. Your beautiful coding allowed me to do so."

"Apparently that wasn't all it allowed you to do, since you were so inept you couldn't even decrease the fatality rate without my help."

Killian burst into peals of laughter, abruptly breaking off several seconds later. "Did you ever wonder why all previous attempts at replicating the super soldier serum failed?"

"I assumed it was because Erskine was a genius and didn't leave any notes behind." Tony smiled broadly. "Smart man. I'll have to take a leaf from his book and do the same."

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Stark." Killian leaned in close, so close that if it weren't for the glass he'd be leaning into Tony's personal space. "It's a quirk of genetics."

"Genetics."

"That's right." Killian grinned delightedly. "You know, every other test subject we used didn't survive past the incubation period. Those that did came out insane, killing themselves shortly after. You're the first successful Extremis user."

It took an effort for Tony not to visibly swallow. "And Mallen?"

Killian's gaze flickered to the side. "Partly successful. The information overload effectively destroyed whatever sanity he did have." He arched an eyebrow. "You're still sane, Mr. Stark. Why do you think that is?"

"I wouldn't know." Tony's words were clipped. "I assume you'll tell me it was because of my genes."

"Your intelligence." Killian smirked; Tony's fingers twitched with the need to wipe it off the bastard's face. "Just like Captain America was the first and only successful recipient of the original serum, you're the only survivor of Extremis because of a little quirk of genetics."

Tony took several calming breaths in an effort not to do something rash, like smash the glass to get at Killian. It didn't really help much, but it did temper his murderous thoughts somewhat. "Is that all? Or are you done?" He inched forward, voice dangerously low as he spoke. "I don't suppose you'll tell me why you gave the Wrecking Crew an Extremis-inhibitor. Or were you hoping to study my body to see what made me successful versus your failed subjects? I also don't suppose you'll tell me what made you out me as a mutant and as a user of Extremis. Were you hoping for some fame?"

Killian flashed a shiny grin, leaning back from the glass as he spread his hands, shrugging. "Orders, Mr. Stark. I'm sure you understand."

"Oh, I understand." Tony smiled tightly. "Maya Hansen was perhaps too idealistic to see what A.I.M.'s ultimate goal was, but you were under no such illusions. I hope you enjoy your time here with S.H.I.E.L.D., Dr. Killian. I hear they have excellent accommodations."

Spinning on his heel, Tony moved away, putting on the helmet again and letting the faceplate down. It had just clicked into place when he'd reached Coulson.

To his credit, Coulson didn't give anything away. "Well?"

Tony looked straight ahead, burying himself as much as he could in the humming around him; he didn't want to think. "I've got to go."

It was just about time for that blowup if his calculations were right.

No one talked on the way back home. Bruce and Clint could both tell that something was wrong, and neither one was willing to break the silence and risk someone's wrath falling on their heads. In any case, Tony didn't think he could yell at anyone at the moment. He was feeling too sick, a combination of nerves and agitation from talking to Killian and anticipation as to what would happen with Steve.

When they finally did get back, they were mildly surprised to see that someone had brought their Quinjet back. Coulson gave them a farewell nod, slipped Tony his number even though he already had it, and was gone.

Then again, Tony realized belatedly, looking down at the card, the number was different.

Palming the card as he absorbed the gauntlets into his skin, Tony entered the mansion, slowly and steadily making his way to their room. His mouth was dry with nerves, and he couldn't stop his fingers from trembling as he reached out to open the door to the bedroom.

Once Steve closed the door behind him, giving them privacy from the others, Tony absorbed the rest of the armor, rooting around for some sweatpants because he definitely did not want to have this conversation naked.

Hitching the sweatpants up to his waist, Tony tightened them, eyes fixed on Steve's tense form still at the door; he hadn't turned on the lights, letting the blue light from Tony's chest do the work. That couldn't possibly good, right?

"I had a reason," he started uncertainly, letting one hand drop while the other still held the strings of his pants.

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When he opened them, he said calmly (too calmly), "I know you did."

"Then what's the problem?"

Steve's jaw worked. "You didn't tell us."

Tony's laugh was more air than sound. "I'd say there was no time, but that'd be a lie. I couldn't tell you, Steve. I knew you'd want to come with, and I couldn't have that. But you did anyway."

"I won't apologize for using my override," Steve said sharply, anger leaking through his voice for the first time.

"I know you won't. I'm not expecting you to." Tony finally let go of the strings, bringing that hand up to rub the back of his head. "But do you understand why I did it?"

"I'm having some trouble with that."

"I got a call from Fury. It's why I left the room. He told me they'd gotten Killian and what he'd said." Tony took a breath. "They said only another Extremis user would be able to take down Mallen. Do you see any other people using Extremis around here?"

"That makes sense." Steve's tone was even. "But what about you informing the rest of us? We're a team, Tony. Why didn't you tell us what was going on?"

"I was thinking about what needed to be done," Tony said fiercely, "and what had happened. Natasha was seriously injured, and you might be more durable, but my suit can take more than any of your uniforms, no matter how much I reinforce them."

"And if you'd gotten hurt? What then, Tony?"

"I was prepared for that." Tony gestured toward the shielded window. "I'm always prepared for the worst happening, you should know that."

"And if something happened and I didn't have your back? How do you think I'd feel about that, Tony? Because if you got hurt and I wasn't there to help – in some way – how do you think I'd deal with that? I was terrified when A.I.M. got you; I had trouble keeping my head on straight. And it happens again?"

"I went on my own prerogative this time," Tony pointed out. "No one else's. Mine."

"Fury called you."

"It was my decision in the end, Steve. Fury gave me the information; I was the one who decided what to do with it. I told JARVIS to stop you from following because I didn't know what would happen if you did. You weren't able to contain Mallen before."

"We weren't trying to kill him!"

"There was no other choice!" It was a shout. "Do you think I wanted to kill him? That I went into that fight with the ultimate goal of disintegrating his head? Because I didn't! I went in there knowing that it was an option; that if I absolutely had to, I would. And I took that option when there was no other choice."

"You had him!" Steve's voice was just as loud as Tony's. "You had him right there! You didn't have to do it. We could've brought him in—"

"And then what, Steve? He would've broken out. God knows I've done it enough times without superpowers. You can't contain power like that, not without a price." Tony swiped his hand down emphatically. "And the price was too high. He would've gone for you without blinking an eye. And I'm good, Steve, but I'm not that good." A helpless laugh burst past his lips. "I can't cover all of you while protecting myself."

"Don't you trust us?" Steve asked. "Don't you trust us to be able to protect ourselves?"

"You know I do. I trust you to have my back when I need it."

"So what was that? Why didn't you trust us today, Tony?"

Tony took a shaky breath, barely stopping himself from screaming. "Because I don't trust myself. Not to the extent where I know I can do my job effectively while backing up a team."

"Then you shouldn't have been out there. You should have waited."

"For what? For Mallen to burn the Capitol down? For you to get hurt? I trusted myself to get the job done. If I got hurt, it would've been fine."

"It wouldn't have been!" Steve slammed a hand against the wall, the impact raining some dust and plaster onto the ground. "I already lost everything I loved once, Tony. I can't handle it again."

"You're more than capable of handling it, Steve," Tony said, stepping forward, stopping only when Steve threw up a hand. "Do you know why I did it? Beyond Fury telling me that it was just me capable of taking down Mallen or me needing to protect you? Do you know why? Because you're a good man, Steve. The world needs you. You're as human as they come, and yet you're good."

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

"You give me too much." Tony smiled sadly. "I'm not human, Steve, not in the way it counts."

"And I've told you before, you are!"

"In what way is this human?" He extended an arm, letting the armor come out to cover it. "Because I can't think of a single human who can do this. I'm not human, Steve. And if I had to do it over again"—Mallen's head exploding flashed across his mind's eye—"I'd do it again. It was worth it."

"Was it really?"

"The most important thing to me…" Tony took a breath, stepping forward towards Steve. "If I can't protect the one thing I can't live without, then it isn't worth it. That's you, Steve. If I can't…if I can't use what I have to protect you, then it really isn't worth it."

There was nothing but silence in the room for several minutes. Tony didn't take his eyes off Steve, heart pounding as he waited for his response.

When it came, it wasn't what he had expected. Steve turned to the side, one hand falling to the doorknob as he closed his eyes, chest visibly rising and falling.

"Steve?" Tony's voice was soft and he took another step forward.

"Stop." The word was harsh. "Just…" There was a breathless laugh that sounded more like a sob. "I can't… I can't do this right now."

And Steve was gone, leaving Tony alone in their room.

Stunned, Tony staggered backwards, eventually collapsing on the bed when his legs bumped against it. He couldn't stop looking at the last spot he'd seen Steve, seen him leave, seen him say he couldn't do it anymore.

It was just like Pepper.

He broke then, slumping forward to bury his face in his hands. There was no Bruce this time.

To be honest, Tony didn't remember much of the next couple months. Well, that wasn't quite true. He didn't really want to remember it. It was months of nothing but making sure that their proposal was air tight and keeping in contact with Coulson to be certain everything was going well.

He'd left the mansion that evening, not wanting to run into Steve. By the time he made it to Richards's, it was past midnight. Surprisingly, the Fantastic Four were still up. That made it easy for Tony to tell Richards everything he needed to know.

From that point, it was just a mishmash of talking with various Senators, avoiding the worst of the media, releasing another press conference on the topic of Mallen because he'd been bugged into doing it, and trying not to think about his absolute mess of a personal life. The second day Rhodey had come to join him in the Baxter Building, and Pepper had kept up a flurry of e-mails, texts, and phone calls. Pepper and Rhodey were absolute lifesavers. If it weren't for those two, Tony thought that he would've thrown in the towel by now

Or maybe not, but he would've done something. Something that wouldn't have had the "Steve-approved" stamp. Not that he was likely to get that stamp again.

He did see Steve during the Senate hearing. Because the counterproposal to SHRA was just as much his idea as Richards's and Tony's, he needed to be there. It went surprisingly well. The hearing, not the meeting with Steve and Tony.

Despite his better judgment warning him, Tony had been unable to stop himself from drinking in the sight of Steve. He'd looked normal in his Captain America uniform even if he wouldn't meet Tony's eyes. If Tony had been in the suit, there would've been an excuse; but since he wasn't in the suit, there really didn't seem to be a reason for it. Other than the fact that Steve didn't want to look at him.

Sue had squeezed his shoulder sympathetically before he'd left for the hearing, having some idea of what was going on. She'd said nothing, for which Tony was pathetically grateful, but had just offered a silent understanding.

Again, if it weren't for Rhodey and Pepper, Tony would've done something even more insane than usual by now.

As it was, the hearing with the Senate seemed to go relatively well. He'd gotten wary looks from the vast majority of people present, but they'd been perfectly willing to listen to their proposal. He supposed it helped that Captain America was backing it up, since he knew that neither Richards nor himself was exactly well-loved. Especially after the fiasco several years ago when they'd tried to claim his suit. And Richards was just awkward and tended to break into techno babble that Tony understood but left everyone else with glazed eyes.

So Captain America was God sent when it came to selling this.

Now they just had the Supreme Court to weigh in on the legitimacy of SHRA.

In the hours leading up to the first session of the Supreme Court's hearing of the evidence, Tony was already at the courthouse with Rhodey, Richards, and his family, going over last-minute details.

"And for God's sake, Reed," Sue said, straightening Richards's tie, "don't go blabbing about technicalities. Keep it simple and to the point."

"Right." Richards was looking straight ahead.

"And look them in the eye." Sue patted him on the cheek, smiling gently.

Tony had to look away, swallowing a lump in his throat. That just put him in eyesight of Johnny, and since he was a virtual twin of Steve, that didn't really help with his longing at all.

"You okay?" Rhodey asked quietly.

"Just fine." Tony moved to adjust his tie, only to have Rhodey take his hand.

"Stop. It's fine, Tony." Rhodey squeezed his hand once before letting it go. "I don't think you're fine right now."

"You just said I was fine."

"The tie is fine. You're a different matter altogether." Rhodey was looking at him in concern. "Do you need me to talk to him? I could get the suit."

Tony couldn't help the short burst of laughter. "No, Rhodey. There's no need for that. Honestly, it'll be fine."

"I could punch him," Rhodey offered. "You're my best friend, Tony, and you're hurting right now. You can't blame me for wanting to hurt the guy who hurt you."

"That's not going to solve anything."

"It'd make me feel better. And put a smile on your face."

Tony smiled.

Rhodey promptly grimaced. "No, not that one. A real smile." Just as the rather painful smile dropped off Tony's face, Rhodey said, "Hey, I know what'll help. Let's talk with Logan over there."

"What?" Unable to say anything else, Tony was dragged by Rhodey over to where he realized Charles, Logan, Jean, Scott, and Ororo were standing. For a change, Logan was actually wearing something that resembled formal attire, though it was still a shirt and jeans.

"Professor," Tony said as they reached him. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Charles smiled in response to whatever Tony had in his head (to be honest, he wasn't entirely sure what was going on in there, and he didn't really want to know). "You are one of us, Tony. And this concerns all of us."

"What about the school?"

"Hank's in charge," Jean said. "You didn't meet him during your stay because he was meeting another Hank – Hank Pym."

"Something about particles," Charles said. "I wasn't entirely sure of the matter by the time Hank left."

"You have two Hanks?" Rhodey asked.

"Hank McCoy is our resident doctor," Ororo explained. "Hank Pym is currently studying growth particles; he contacted ours for some research."

"Fascinating." Tony thought about smiling and decided against it, recalling what Rhodey had said about his last smile. He instead tucked his hands into his pockets. "You going to be sitting in the front or the back?"

"Front," Logan said simply.

"Maximum impact," Scott agreed, nodding.

"We don't want to intimidate them," Ororo said, smiling. "But, yes, we'll be sitting in the front."

"Great. I've got a front row seat. So do Reed and Steve."

"It'll be fine, Tony." Charles smile was sympathetic, so he'd probably picked up something on what was bothering Tony.

"Do you know?" Tony asked.

"Nothing yet." Charles tapped his fingers against the arm of the wheelchair, making sure to keep them off the sensors. "But I do have every confidence that it will turn out for the better. You are a very intelligent young man."

"Please don't boost his ego, Professor," Rhodey protested.

"Platypus, honey bear, I don't need to hear what I already know." Tony couldn't repress the grin this time, nudging Rhodey in the side.

"Kitty wishes you the best of luck," Jean told Tony, also smiling. "As does Rogue. They were also inquiring about a flying car."

"Jean," Scott groaned.

"Haven't gotten any progress on that end, sorry," Tony said, amused.

"If you do make a flying car, put me down," Rhodey said, grinning broadly. His eyes held a hint of relief.

"Tony!" Clint's voice distracted him, and Tony turned to see that the Avengers had arrived.

"See you in court," Tony told the X-Men, receiving nods of farewell.

Rhodey followed him, keeping close to his back. "You don't have to do this, Tony."

"It's just Steve," Tony said in a low voice. "I'll be fine, Rhodey."

"And Steve is there," Rhodey pointed out. "Tony—"

Tony stopped then, turning to talk quietly with his friend. "I appreciate it, Rhodey, but I'll be fine, okay? I can handle an ex-boyfriend. I'm a big boy now."

Rhodey had a funny look on his face. "So you've broken up?"

Shrugging, Tony looked away to where he could see his team. "I don't know. I'm assuming."

There was a sigh, and then Rhodey tugged at Tony's arm. "Let me know if you need to bail out. Because until Steve gets his head out of his ass, I'm not going to let you torture yourself."

Tony reached up with his other hand to squeeze the one Rhodey still had on his arm. "It'll be fine, Rhodey. Promise."

"You said that last time, Tony, and we blew up the entire house."

"I was drunk." Tony patted Rhodey's hand one more time before shaking it off. "Now let's go."

There was a disgruntled huff from Rhodey, but he did follow Tony, keeping quiet as he greeted his team.

They looked uncomfortable, exasperated, upset, and worried at the same time, which Tony found perplexing. He tried to keep his eyes off Steve, but it was impossible considering that they'd be sitting together in the court room. He did manage to keep his interactions with him to a minimal.

Bruce did draw him aside for a quick talk, but Tony managed to reassure him that it was fine. He didn't miss the tension around Bruce's eyes, or the way the other man glared at Steve when he thought Tony wasn't looking.

"It's not his fault, Bruce," Tony said wearily.

"It's not yours either, Tony."

Tony wisely kept his mouth on what he thought of that. There was a time and place for an argument, and having it in front of a courthouse where Bruce could Hulk out to pummel Steve was probably not the best idea.

Especially if it wasn't even Steve's fault.

The hearing went about as well as Tony expected. Which was to say…he had no freaking clue what was happening. Various people had been called to take the stand to either rave about how unsafe unregistered superheroes were or to preach that registering superheroes would end up being too dangerous overall, for both the superheroes and the regular humans.

In any case, Tony didn't have much of a clue of what the justices were thinking. They all had excellent poker faces. And his nerves weren't helped by the fact that he was sitting directly in-between Richards and Steve, and he didn't even know how that had happened.

It did help that Pepper and Rhodey were both sitting directly behind him. He could practically feel the silent support pouring off of them. He'd also seen Pepper shooting daggers at the back of Steve's head at one point (if looks could kill, Steve would be very dead right now), but Rhodey had quickly gotten her attention once he saw Tony looking.

The Avengers, X-Men, and the Fantastic Four filled up the first two rows on the other side of the aisle. Peter Parker had slipped into the back at some point, shooting Tony a reassuring grin when they'd locked eyes. He had a camera slung around his neck.

For the most part, the room was quiet except for the people up front who were arguing either side of the debate. Tony's side had a top-notch lawyer picked out by both himself and Fury. The other side had someone Tony didn't really know, but had heard of. Somewhere.

It was about two hours later when the judge called for a short break, following which they would reconvene. Ordinarily they'd pick up the next day, but due to the fact that Fury had pulled quite a few strings, this was going to be a rush job with quite a few meetings packed in a single day. It'd still take at least a week, but it was going to be fast. Tony really hoped that it didn't lead to something being messed up.

He'd gone outside for some fresh air when Steve came up behind him. "Tony."

He didn't jump or do anything else to show how startled he was. "Steve."

Steve looked nervous, and his face seemed somewhat haggard. If he looked closely, Tony could see what were some pretty deep shadows under his eyes, covered up by some makeup that had doubtlessly been courtesy of Natasha.

"Did you need something?" Tony asked evenly. Really, it was a miracle that his voice hadn't cracked halfway through him talking.

Steve's face twisted strangely. "Yeah, um… Tony."

Two could play at that game. "Steve."

"I…" Steve blew out a breath, glancing off to the side as he bit his bottom lip. "The others have been telling me that I'm an idiot," he finally said, looking back at Tony.

"That so." Tony very carefully made sure his face was unreadable.

"I know you're mad, Tony—"

"I'm not." Tony did smile then. "I'm really not mad, Steve. I might've been mad before, but I'm not now."

"I couldn't do it," Steve blurted. "I couldn't. And I'm sorry I bailed, but I couldn't."

"I understand." He didn't, but that was what people usually said. "I get it, Steve. Rhodey's told me multiple times – in great profane detail – that I should get off my ass and call you."

A smile flickered over Steve's face. He didn't say anything, looking away to the side. Following his eyes, Tony saw Clint hitting on Jean and summarily getting glared at by Scott, and Bruce talking with Richards. Ororo and Natasha were talking, and Johnny was apparently having the time of his life picking on Logan while Grimm watched long-sufferingly and Charles talked to him.

When Tony returned his gaze to Steve, his eyes caught on a flicker of light from one of the buildings across the street, Extremis linking into the appropriate cameras and streaming the feed directly into Tony's mind: it was a sniper.

The moment before the distinctive and too familiar noise could sound, Tony remembered what had happened in another world.

"Captain America was killed by an assassin directly before he could stand trial, on the steps of the courthouse."

He didn't really have to think about it. But he'd barely moved before the distinctive cracking sound of a gunshot ripped through the air and splitting pain tore open his chest. He was still reeling from the first shot when there was another crack of gunfire and something hit him again on the right of his chest.

He was dimly aware of hitting the ground, a dull roaring in his ears. He'd thought a sniper would have better aim than to hit Tony, who had been standing several feet to the side of Steve. And, oddly enough, this seemed rather familiar.

Just a lot more painful, and it seemed that someone was screaming in his ear.

"Tony, Tony, open your eyes. Please, love, stay with me. I need a doctor over here!"

It sounded like Steve. There was pressure being placed on his chest, making it even more difficult to breathe.

"Pressure on the wounds, Steve. Keep at it." That was Bruce, wasn't it? "Tony, can you hear me? Let me know if you can."

Fingers were pressing at his throat, checking his pulse and making it even more difficult to breathe. Something was choking him, and he spluttered, desperately trying to clear his airways.

"Damn, not good. Steve—"

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it. God, Tony. Please, stay with me."

"Ambulance is on its way!"

"Okay, good. Tony, stay with us. Give us some room!"

"Tony, love, please."

It was with great effort that Tony managed to force his eyes open. His breath was still coming too hard; it hadn't been this hard since he'd first had the electromagnet in his chest.

The first thing he saw was Steve's terrified face directly over him. It was the only thing that seemed to be in focus; everything else was blurry.

"Tony, Tony…" He looked like he was about to cry. "That's it. Can you stay with me?"

Tony managed to smile, coughing slightly, the movement wracking pain through his chest. "Totally…" He barely managed to get the word out.

"Tony?"

"…worth…it…"

"Oh fuck, not good. Where's the ambulance?"

"Tony? Tony!"

He fell into the blackness that was tugging at him.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

That beeping was awfully annoying.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Like, headache-inducing levels of annoying.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Maybe it'll stop.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Damn it. He'd just stop it himself.

The sound immediately stopped, and he was just about to settle back to relax when another sound started, this one much less annoying.

"Tony?" It sounded weary and familiar. "Was that you?"

That sounded like his name.

"If it wasn't you, I'm calling the nurse."

With great effort of will, he managed to move a finger on his right hand. Incidentally, that was also the moment he noticed someone was holding that same hand.

There was a stunned silence. Then the voice – Steve – spoke again, eager. "Tony, can you hear me?"

The smell of antiseptic was reaching his nose. And now that he was becoming more aware, he could hear even more humming around him, though it wasn't bothering him too much. Then his brain registered all the phones in the building, which ones were in use, and what was being talked about.

Twitching slightly as he shut that off, he took a deeper breath, wincing as sudden pain sparked through his chest.

"That's it, Tony," Steve encouraged softly, squeezing his hand. "Come on, love."

What seemed like an eternity later but must have only been several minutes, Tony managed to open his eyes, blinking into the dimmed lights of the hospital room he was in. Judging from his internal clock, it was the middle of the night.

"Tony…" The sound was an utterly relieved sigh, and he turned his head to find the source.

Steve looked completely and utterly wrecked, eyes red-rimmed and hair completely mussed up. His clothes were wrinkled, but seemed otherwise relatively clean.

Tony tried to speak, found that his throat was ridiculously dry and all that came out was a croak, licked his lips, and tried again. "You look like a wreck."

This pulled a helpless smile from Steve, who reached for something out of sight. It was soon revealed to be a cup of what looked to be ice chips. He gave Tony a couple, who took them gratefully, before he started speaking in a subdued tone.

"We almost lost you. Coded five times. It's only because of Extremis that you're here now."

"The…shooter?" His throat was already feeling better.

Steve's face darkened. "A.I.M. Clint got him before he could escape. He's in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody right now."

"And…the court? What happened?"

Steve let out a low huff of air that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "It's all right, Tony. We…we did it. They ruled SHRA in violation of the right to privacy, saying there were other ways to get the same goal without being so intrusive. They're considering our proposal now."

Tony thought that this was done awfully fast. Shouldn't it have taken longer considering he'd been shot right in front of the courthouse? "How long was I out?"

Steve smiled sadly. "Your questions are bit out of order; I thought you'd ask earlier. Two weeks."

Two weeks?

Steve could read the shock and dismay in Tony's face, and he squeezed Tony's hand reassuringly. "It's all right. It really is."

Tony's reply was a whisper. "You don't look all right."

The smile on Steve's face faltered for a second. "I'll…" After a moment's hesitation, he shook his head. "No. I'm not."

"D'you…" Tony cracked a smile. "…want to talk about it?"

One ragged exhale later, and Steve said, "Yeah. Tony, I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen."

"Wasn't your fault."

"Not the shooting. Everything else. I should've talked to you earlier." Steve shuddered lightly, clasping Tony's hand tightly. "If you'd died…" His voice cracked.

"Hey." Tony managed to squeeze a couple of Steve's fingers. "I'm still here."

There was a short chuckle. "Yeah. Thank God." Steve exhaled, dropping his eyes to their joined hands. "I was so angry," he confessed softly. "The last time we talked, I couldn't see straight. I was terrified, Tony. I came so close to losing you out there."

Tony thought this was a bit of an exaggeration, but thought that he shouldn't really push his luck.

"Or maybe that's an exaggeration," Steve admitted. "But I thought for sure something would happen. And you didn't tell us what you were doing. I think that more than anything made me lose it."

"Steve, honey, if you think that was losing it, I think we need to work on your perception on what defines as 'blowing your top.' Because you were mad, but I've seen worse."

"I didn't listen to you." Steve's eyes were haunted. "I couldn't. Not at that point. And…I couldn't understand what you did. I don't think I ever will."

"That's why I'm your co-captain," Tony said, grinning lightly. "I have the other perspective you don't."

"I'd say you're more of a private," Steve said, lips twitching into an answering grin.

"Slander." Tony almost laughed, but stopped when his chest reminded him that there was a reason he was in the hospital.

Steve quickly sobered. "I trust you, Tony. I should've told you that."

"I know you do."

"I didn't act like it. I know you can take care of yourself. I just…panic."

"So do I." Tony smiled up at him. "Relationship woes, Rogers."

Steve smiled sadly, his thumb stroking Tony's knuckles. His entire frame was rather rigid, and it took Tony all of a second to decide what to do about it.

Stifling a pained grunt, he shifted slightly to the side, pressing up against the metal rail on the end of the bed. "Come on, Steve." He tugged at Steve's hand.

"Tony…"

"Get in."

Steve swallowed, but did, climbing into the bed so carefully that Tony was barely jostled. Cheating slightly, Tony lifted himself up off the bed enough so that Steve could slide his arm underneath them. Then he resettled, snuggling up as close as he could to Steve's broad chest.

"Better?" he asked softly, resting a hand on the arm Steve had slung over him.

There was another shudder from the frame next to him, and then a low whisper: "Yeah."

Steve tucked his face into the spot right by Tony's ear, just breathing for several long minutes. Tony used that time to investigate the room he was in. It was standard fare for hospitals; the only difference was that it was filled to the brim with Avengers.

Bruce was conked out on a chair, head tilted back in such a way that Tony just knew he'd have a cramp the next morning. He had a fuzzy blanket on him. Clint and Natasha were slumped together by the wall, Natasha leaning her head on Clint's shoulder. Clint had his cheek mashed into Natasha's red hair. Rhodey was stretched out on the only couch available in the room, his knees hanging over the armrest since the furniture was too small for his lanky frame. Even Peter was there in his distinctive Spider-Man costume, hanging from the ceiling in what seemed to be a web.

The only Avenger missing was Thor, and it took Tony a moment to remember why that was.

"You guys camp out here for the last two weeks?" he asked quietly.

Steve hummed an affirmative, nuzzling Tony's hair. "Didn't want to leave," he eventually mumbled.

"Must've been boring, just watching me sleep."

Steve stiffened. "You weren't just sleeping. You…they had you on life support for the first week, Tony. One of the bullets nicked your heart; Extremis spent the last two weeks regenerating it."

Tony mentally wondered why his heart always seemed to get the raw end of the deal. He didn't voice it; even he knew Steve wouldn't appreciate that. "I didn't know."

Steve nodded, face still buried in Tony's hair (shouldn't it be stinking by now?).

"Well…" Tony looked up at the ceiling, gently stroking the skin on Steve's arm. "We're all right now, aren't we?"

"Yeah." The words were a warm rush of breath against his hair. "Yeah, we are."

Steve shifted slightly, moving up so his lips rested against Tony's temple. "Tony?"

"Hm?"

"Would you… I know I don't really have the right to ask you this now, but…do you want to get married?"

Tony froze, mind whirring to a halt. Had he heard that right?

Steve sounded frustrated and desperate at the same time. "I know I don't have the right to ask it of you now, not after what happened. But I love you, and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. And I don't want to wait anymore. Not after almost losing you again."

Tony wet his lips, turning his head slightly to look at Steve, who was looking down at him with hopeful blue eyes. "I'm just gonna ask this because otherwise I might seem like an idiot if I got it wrong. Did you just propose to me?"

"Yes." The response was tentative.

"It might just be me, but I thought you'd be the kind of guy who gets down on one knee with a ring before popping the question. This doesn't seem very romantic."

"I can still do that."

"You don't need to." Tony grinned at him, well aware that he was probably looking a bit like a loon right now. A deliriously happy loon, but a loon nonetheless. "Yes, Steve."

Steve looked rather stunned. "Yes?"

"Yes, I'll marry you. Doesn't have to be next week or even this year, but yes." Tony's grin turned mischievous. "But just so you know, this doesn't make me the bride. I refuse to wear white."

Laughing delightedly (but quietly due to their sleeping teammates), Steve ducked his head for a warm kiss, bringing a hand up to stroke a thumb along Tony's jaw. "I love you," he said, smiling, his eyes bright.

"Love you, too."

Beaming, Steve pressed his lips against Tony's once, twice, three times, and then they were in a permanent lip lock.

It wasn't all sunshine and daisies. He'd still have to deal with the outside world at some point. But at least for now, he was safe and warm in the arms of the man he loved.

And, really, there wasn't anything else he could ask for. It might've taken a while to get to this point, but Tony honestly couldn't say he'd change a thing.

He was really, finally, home.

And now a message from the author...

Yeah, so... Remember when I said I was planning on this being the last part of my series? As it turns out, it's not quite done yet. Brain Freeze is the sequel, and it's now up; it clocks in at a little over 46,000 words. Honestly, I wasn't planning on such a tumultuous ride when I started writing the first scene with Tony and Fury and the almost-sex scenes in Part I. Then SHRA decided to butt in and Mallen also decided he needed a say so we have this very long ride that was both fun and difficult to write. (You have no idea how many times I was just staring blankly at the screen wondering what was going to happen next.)

I just wanted to thank all of you for your continued support through this crazy, crazy ride. And thanks to my new followers as well, although don't be put off if you get alerts saying I'm posting Danny Phantom stories. That was my original fandom before I joined this one. I never anticipated such a reception when I first filled that prompt on Avengerkink last year, but it's definitely helped my writing grow by leaps and bounds ever since I started. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you. :)

I now have a tumblr and the link's on my profile. I'm going to be posting regular updates on there as to where I am in my writing, so follow me on there if you want to know how it's going or just in general be amused at my spastic-ness when it comes to life. Periodic updates will also be on my profile here.

AND NOW for the sendoff! Let me know what you thought!

Stats: Word Count: 74,566; Pages: 201