Tony Stark was on the verge of something mind-blowing. He could taste it at the edge of his mind, a whisper of brilliance teasing him like the faint scent of ozone before a storm. It was right there—he could almost feel it on his fingertips. And just as he reached out, ready to grasp the idea and drag it into reality, it slipped away like jelly through his hands.
He slammed his palms on the lab table in frustration, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. Days had blurred into nights as he worked on his latest obsession: developing an efficient clean energy source. Palladium was his current linchpin, but it wasn’t ideal. Using it meant the reactor wasn’t truly clean, and without it, the design failed spectacularly.
How hard could it be? he thought bitterly. But the question gnawed at him like a splinter in his brain.
The answer remained elusive, and Tony hadn’t slept in days.
Coffee had become his lifeblood, his only sustenance. Butterfingers, his robotic arm, dutifully brought refills whenever Tony snapped his fingers and grumbled for another cup. A dozen empty mugs cluttered his desk alongside sketches, prototypes, and disassembled components.
"Sir," a familiar voice called out, polite but insistent.
Tony didn’t respond. His laser-focused concentration was a fortress, impenetrable to anything that wasn’t progress. He scribbled equations furiously, his mind alight with possibilities that fizzled out almost as quickly as they formed.
Then, suddenly, his screens went black.
“What the hell?” Tony exclaimed, standing so fast that his chair clattered to the floor. “J.A.R.V.I.S.! Turn my screens back on before I dismantle you and donate your parts to City College!”
“Unfortunately, sir, I cannot do that,” J.A.R.V.I.S. replied smoothly.
Tony threw his hands in the air. “Oh, this is rich. My own A.I. turning against me. Let me guess—Pepper put you up to this?”
“Indeed, sir. You programmed me to initiate Protocol SLEEPTIGHT after seventy-two hours without rest or proper nutrition. Ms. Potts insisted upon its enforcement.”
Tony groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “J.A.R.V.I.S., override protocol. I’m fine. I’ve got work to do.”
“With all due respect, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. replied, “the human body cannot survive on caffeine alone. I have already placed an order with your favorite pizza establishment. The delivery should arrive in fifteen minutes.”
Tony glared at the ceiling, as if his glare could penetrate steel and circuitry. “Cancel it. I’m not hungry, and I’m not tired. And I’m your boss, not Pepper!”
“My primary objective is your well-being, sir. Good night.”
And with that, J.A.R.V.I.S. shut down every electronic in the lab.
Tony stared at the blank monitors, his frustration boiling over. But arguing with J.A.R.V.I.S. was like yelling at a brick wall—pointless and exhausting. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he stomped up the stairs.
The doorbell rang as he reached the top.
He considered ignoring it just to spite J.A.R.V.I.S., but his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl. Grumbling, he answered the door, tipping the delivery guy generously before retreating to the living room.
Tony collapsed onto his luxurious leather couch, pizza box balanced precariously on his lap. He devoured slice after slice, the grease and cheese a small comfort after days of deprivation. By the time he reached his fourth slice, sleep overtook him.
He woke to the sound of a familiar voice.
“Mr. Stark,” said Pepper Potts, her tone a mix of exasperation and fondness.
Tony blinked groggily, disoriented. “Morning already?”
“Morning, yes,” she said, crossing her arms. “And this is not how I expected to find you.”
He glanced down at himself—rumpled clothes, greasy fingers, and the pizza box now tilted on its side. His heart sank.
“I was working,” he muttered defensively.
“And sleeping on the couch, apparently,” Pepper replied, a gentle smile softening her words. “You know the bed is more comfortable, right?”
Tony grunted, rubbing his eyes. Pepper’s kindness was like salt in a wound. He hated being pitied, especially by her.
Pepper had always been his rock. She’d been there through the chaos of his life, handling everything from boardroom dramas to his personal meltdowns. Their romantic relationship had been brief but intense, and it had ended when Tony’s self-destructive tendencies became too much for her to bear.
“I needed stability,” she’d told him after finding him drunk and passed out in his lab, surrounded by broken glass and his own vomit. “You need help, Tony. You need to want to be better—for yourself, not for me.”
She’d walked away but hadn’t abandoned him entirely. Pepper had called Rhodey to step in, helped nurse him back to health, and even accepted his offer to take over as CEO of Stark Industries. Despite everyone’s doubts, she’d proven herself more than capable, running the company with a brilliance that matched her grace.
Tony knew he owed her everything.
“You okay?” Pepper’s voice broke through his thoughts, tinged with genuine concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just fell asleep, that’s all.”
She didn’t push further, respecting the boundaries they’d drawn. Instead, she held up a stack of papers.
“What’s this?” Tony asked. “Divorce papers?”
“Worse,” she said. “We have a meeting in an hour.”
He groaned loudly, flopping back onto the couch. “Let the board be pissed. I’m busy actually doing the work that keeps this company afloat.”
“You’re the owner, Tony. You literally have to attend these meetings.”
“That’s why I put you in charge,” he retorted. “You go to the boring stuff so I can invent cool things.”
“You put me in charge so I could run your company, not so I could babysit you,” Pepper shot back, playfully shoving his arm.
Tony sighed, dragging himself upright. “Fine. Fine! J.A.R.V.I.S.,” he called out, “gear up, baby. It’s time to roll.”
“Yes, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. replied, his tone wry.
As Tony shuffled toward the stairs to get ready, he couldn’t shake the feeling that today was going to be another uphill battle. And he was already exhausted.