The tarmac at Edwards Air Force Base was radiating heat, baking the black asphalt until the air shimmered. It was quiet. No press. No cameras. I had made a call to the base commander two hours ago to ensure the perimeter was locked down. Tony Stark wasn't a celebrity today; he was a retrieved high-value asset.
I leaned against the side of the silver Rolls Royce, checking my watch. Happy Hogan was in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were white. Pepper was pacing back and forth in her heels, shredding a tissue in her hands.
"He's going to be okay," I said, keeping my voice low. "He's stubborn. Death doesn't like stubborn people."
Pepper stopped pacing and looked at me, her eyes red-rimmed. "They said he was in a cave, Adrian. For three months. Who survives that?"
"Tony," I said simply.
A low rumble shook the ground. We turned to look at the runway. The massive C-17 Globemaster touched down, tires screeching, kicking up a cloud of dust. It taxied slowly toward us, looking like a grey whale beached on the tarmac.
The rear ramp whined and began to lower.
The sunlight hit the opening first. Two soldiers walked out, scanning the area. Then Rhodey. He looked exhausted, his flight suit covered in dust.
And then, Tony.
He was supported by a medic on one side, but he pushed him away as soon as his boots hit the ramp. He was walking on his own, but he looked... small. The expensive suit was gone, replaced by loose-fitting local clothes. His arm was in a makeshift sling. He was gaunt, his face hidden behind a bushy, unkempt beard.
Pepper gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
Tony stumbled slightly at the bottom of the ramp. Rhodey reached out to steady him, but Tony waved him off. He looked up, squinting against the harsh California sun. His eyes found mine.
For a second, the "Tony Stark" mask tried to slide back into place. He tried to smirk, to throw out a quip, but it faltered. He just looked tired. Bone deep tired.
"Your eyes are red," Tony croaked. His voice was like gravel. "You been crying, boss?"
"Allergies," Pepper choked out, rushing forward to hug him. She didn't care about the dirt or the smell. She buried her face in his shoulder.
Tony hesitated, then patted her back awkwardly. "I missed you too, Pep."
He looked over her shoulder at me. I hadn't moved from the car. I just nodded.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," I said.
Tony pulled away from Pepper gently. "Yeah, well, the accommodations were terrible. Zero stars. Speaking of which..." He looked around, scanning the empty tarmac. "Where is it?"
"Where is what?" Happy asked, stepping out of the car.
"My cheeseburger," Tony said. It wasn't a joke. His eyes were desperate. "I've been dreaming of cheese and grease for ninety days. Tell me you have it."
"It's in the bag," I said, opening the rear door of the Rolls. "Burger King. Double patty. Extra pickles."
Tony let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob. "I knew I kept you on the payroll for a reason."
He practically fell into the backseat. I slid in next to him. Pepper took the front passenger seat, turning around to face us.
"The hospital," Pepper said to Happy. "Go straight to...."
"No," Tony cut in, his mouth already full. He was eating the burger with a shaking hand, like a starving animal. "No hospital. I don't need a doctor. I need a shave. And a press conference."
"Tony," Pepper started, "you have shrapnel in your..."
"I'm fine," Tony snapped. Then he softened, taking another bite. "Just... take us to the sweet shop. Stark Industries. I have to say something."
Happy looked at me in the rearview mirror, looking for orders.
"Do what he says, Happy," I said calmly.
The car pulled away, the suspension smoothing out the bumps. The interior was cool, smelling of leather and the french fries Tony was devouring.
Tony finished the first burger in three bites and reached for the second. He leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes for a moment. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only the trauma.
I watched him. My eyes drifted down to his chest. The loose shirt had fallen open slightly.
There it was.
The glowing blue circle. The Arc Reactor. It hummed softly, a sound I knew would haunt him for years. The bandage around it was fresh, but I could still see the faint, fading red lines of the "ink" I had given him. It had done its job. It had held the line until he could build the device that would keep him alive.
Tony opened his eyes and caught me staring at the light in his chest.
He paused, the burger halfway to his mouth. He looked down at the reactor, then back at me. He looked vulnerable in a way Tony Stark never allowed himself to be.
"It's not a pacemaker," Tony muttered, tapping the metal casing with a greasy finger. "It's... complicated."
"It's a miniaturized Arc Reactor," I said quietly. "I recognize the design. Your father's blueprints."
Tony blinked. "Yeah. Big version powers the factory. This one... powers me."
He took a slow breath, the blue light flickering slightly. "I shouldn't be here, Adrian. Yinsen... the guy in the cave... he saved me. He didn't make it."
The silence.
Pepper was watching him with wide, tearful eyes.
I reached into the inside pocket of my jacket. I pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him. He had ketchup on his chin.
"You're here because you fought for it," I said.
Tony took the cloth, wiping his face. He looked out the window at the passing highway, the world moving too fast for him.
"I'm shutting it down," Tony whispered. "The weapons. All of it. I saw what they do. I saw my name on the bombs that killed those kids."
"I know," I said.
Tony looked at me, surprised by my lack of objection. "You're the majority shareholder. I'm about to tank the stock. You're not gonna fight me?"
I looked at the blue light again. The symbol of the Iron Man. The beginning of everything.
"Money is just paper, Tony," I said, my voice low and steady. "You can always make more money."
I leaned in slightly, my eyes locking onto his. I dropped the "business partner" mask for just a second, letting a fraction of real me show through.
"You've finally found a heart," I said, nodding at the reactor. "Don't waste it."
Tony stared at me. He stopped chewing. For a second, the manic energy, the trauma, the deflections, it all stopped. He looked at the reactor, then back at me, a strange clarity in his eyes.
"I won't," he said softly.
He finished the burger, crumpled the wrapper, and tossed it to the floor. "Okay. Happy, drive faster. I have a company to blow up."