Familial Expansion

Chapter 92

The sound of whirring repulsors echoes through the air as Tony lands on the balcony of his Malibu mansion. His armor hisses and groans as it powers down, panels sliding open with mechanical precision.

For a moment, he stands still, staring out at the ocean. The steady rhythm of the waves crashing against the shore do little to calm the storm swirling inside him. His chest is still heaving, his breathing uneven, the adrenaline and fear from earlier refusing to completely fade.

Tony presses a trembling hand to his arc reactor, its cool surface grounding him, but not enough. He closes his eyes, his lips press tightly together, and he forces himself to breathe in and out. The wormhole. The boy’s question. The memories. It was all too much.

And then there was the guilt.

He’d just left them. He ran.

Steve, Rhodey, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Trunks—they were all there, watching him, worried about him, and he bolted. He didn’t even explain himself, didn’t offer so much as a “sorry, I’ll be right back.” What kind of example was that for the kids? For Steve?

Steve, who it took weeks after they started sharing a bedroom for Tony to convince him to open up about his nightmares and doing the same himself so they could bear the burden together like good partners should. He isn't exactly being a good partner darting off to lick his wounds in solitude.

Not a good friend either. After the disaster that was his 40th birthday and hiding his palladium poisoning, Tony promised Rhodey to drop the lone wolf act. Guess old habits die harder than he thought. 

Videl and Trunks, embarrassing himself in front of his kids' best friends was another low-light.

And the boys, in the 5 years since Gohan and Goten were dropped onto his front stoop, he's tried to be a half decent role model, someone they can rely on to be strong.

Except he's not. At least, he certainly wasn't by taking off like that and leaving them to worry.

Tony sucks in a sharp breath, stepping inside and closing the balcony doors behind him. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair as the AI greets him.

“Welcome home, Sir,” JARVIS says, his voice calm and precise. “Shall I prepare the usual post-flight diagnostics?”

Tony bites back a bitter laugh. “No thanks, J. Skip the diagnostics. Just... keep the lights dim, will ya?”

“As you wish, Sir,” JARVIS replies. The lighting throughout the mansion softens, casting a warm but muted glow. “Might I suggest some form of relaxation? You’ve been under considerable strain lately.”

Tony dismissively waves a hand as he walks through the hallways of his sleek, minimalist home. “Relaxation. Sure. Let me just meditate my way out of a panic attack. That’ll do the trick.”

“Sir, if I may—”

“Don’t, JARVIS. Not right now,” Tony cuts him off, his voice sharper than he intended. He winces, running a hand through his hair again. “Sorry. Not your fault. Just… leave me be for a bit.”

JARVIS went silent, though Tony could feel the AI’s presence, quietly running in the background, ever-watchful.

As he steps into the lab, his thoughts keep circling back to the scene at the restaurant. The way Steve had called after him, concern etched into his face. The way Rhodey’s eyes had narrowed, always trying to figure out what was going on under the surface. The kids—they didn’t deserve to see him like that.

“Coward,” he mutters to himself, his voice harsh. He's supposed to be better than this. He's supposed to be the guy who holds things together, the one who cracks a joke and pulls everyone through the darkness.

And yet, when it mattered most, he froze.

The suit pieces disengage as he walks, docking in their designated spots. Tony’s hands tremble as he pulls off the gauntlets, so he grabs a wrench off the table, letting its familiar weight anchor him. But it's not enough to quiet his thoughts.

The image of Goten’s worried little face flashes in his mind. “Daddy, what's wrong?”

Tony groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Great job, Stark. Freak out in front of the kids. Real smooth.”

Through some small mercy, it appears Piccolo went back to the other Earth, so the only witnesses to his shame at the moment are JARVIS, DUM-E, and Icarus.

He drops the wrench onto the table with a loud clatter and grabs his tablet. He needs a distraction—someone to banter with, someone to pull him out of his own head. And there's only one person for the job, who didn’t just witness his panic attack.

“JARVIS,” Tony calls, his voice a little steadier now.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Call Happy.”

-SI HQ-

As Happy Hogan sits in the hallway outside Pepper's glass office, his tablet buzzes. Glancing at the screen, he sees Tony's name flash across the display.

He answers the call, holding the tablet awkwardly high so that only his forehead and eyes are visible on Tony's monitor.

“Hello?” Happy brusquely asks.

On the other side of the call, Tony smirks. “Is this Forehead of Security?”

Happy rolls his eyes, already annoyed. “What? Look, I got a real job now. What do you want? I'm busy here.”

Tony doesn’t miss a beat. “What, harassing interns?”

Happy sighs leaning back in his chair. “You know what happened when I told people I was Iron Man’s bodyguard? They laughed in my face.”

Tony chuckles at the memory. 

“I’m serious, Tony! I had to leave while I still had a shred of dignity. Now I’ve got a real job—I’m watching Pepper.”

Tony leans forward in mock seriousness. “What’s going on? Fill me in.”

Happy hesitates for a moment, certain Tony's still poking fun at him, but decides to indulge him. “Alright, fine. She’s meeting with some scientist. Rich guy. Handsome.”

“Right,” Tony drawls, already disinterested.

“I didn’t recognize him at first,” Happy continues, waving his hand as if emphasizing his talent. “You know I’m good with faces.”

“Oh yeah, you’re the best,” Tony remarks, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Happy ignores him and presses on. “I ran his credentials. Turns out, it’s Aldrich Killian. You remember him? From that science conference we went to in ‘99?”

Tony squints, trying to place the name. “Switzerland, right?”

Happy nods. "Exactly."

Tony frowns. “Killian…No, doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Of course not,” Happy says with a smirk. “He’s not a blonde with a big rack.”

Realizing Steve technically fits that description, Tony bursts out laughing, but Happy isn’t done. “At first, it was fine. They were talking business, but now? It’s getting weird. He’s showing her a big brain.”

Tony blinks. “His what?”

“A big brain! And she likes it. Here, let me show you.”

Happy fumbles with the tablet, angling it toward the glass office where Pepper and Killian are standing close together on the coffee table, admiring a 3D projection of a brain. Unfortunately, all Tony sees is the camera flipping back to Happy’s own face.

“Look at what? You’re showing me you,” Tony deadpanns. “Flip the screen.”

“I’m not a tech genius like you, okay? Just trust me. Get down here,” Happy shoots back.

“Flip the screen, then I can see what’s happening,” Tony insists.

“I can’t! I don’t know how to flip the screen!” Happy snaps. “And don’t talk to me like that anymore. You’re not my boss.”

Tony suppresses a grin as he pulls up his own tablet, quickly running a search on Aldrich Killian and pulling up his photo. “Alright, I don’t work for you. But I need you to secure the perimeter. Tell him to go out for a drink or something.”

Happy frowns. “You know what? You should take more of an interest in what’s going on here. This woman…She’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to you, and you’re just ignoring her.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “A giant brain?”

“Yes! There’s a giant brain and a shifty character,” Happy snaps again. “I’m gonna follow this guy. Run his plates. If things get rough, so be it.”

Tony’s voice softens, the sarcasm fading for a moment. “I miss you, Happy.”

Happy huffs. “Yeah, I miss you too. But the way it used to be. Now you’re off with the ‘Superfriends.’ I don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore. The world’s getting weird.”

Tony, always deflecting when things get too serious, smirks again. “Hey, uh, hate to cut you off, but…do you have your taser on you?”

Happy blinks, confused. “Why?”

“There’s a gal in HR trying to steal printer ink. You should go zap her,” Tony quips, sliding his tablet into his wine fridge and walking off.

Happy grumbles as the screen goes dark. “Yeah, nice,” he mutters under his breath.

Inside the glass office, Pepper stands across from Killian, visibly impressed by the 3D projection of a brain hovering between them.

“Imagine,” Killian smoothly says, “if you could hack into the hard drive of any living organism and recode its DNA.”

Pepper tilts her head, intrigued but cautious. “That would be incredible.”

Killian smiles, but Pepper’s expression grows more serious. “Unfortunately, it also sounds highly weaponizable. Enhanced soldiers, private armies…And Tony is not—”

“Tony,” Killian interrupts, his tone turning dismissive. “Tony. You know, I invited him to join AIM thirteen years ago. He turned me down. But something tells me there’s a new genius on the throne now. Someone who doesn’t have to answer to Tony anymore. Someone with slightly less of an ego.”

Pepper’s polite smile turns cold. “It’s going to be a no, Aldrich. As much as I’d like to help you.”

Moments later, Killian walks out of the building, his polished shoes clicking against the pavement. He briefly turns back, addressing Pepper with a wry smile. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. But as my father used to say, ‘Failure is the fog through which we glimpse triumph.’”

Pepper raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That’s…very deep.”

Killian chuckles. “I have no idea what it means. He was kind of an idiot, my old man.”

Pepper laughs despite herself.

“I’m sure I’ll see you again, Pepper,” Killian says, leaning in to kiss her cheek before walking off.

As she watches him head toward his car, Pepper spots Happy approaching. She straightens up, clearly flustered.

“Happy…”

“The car’s ready if you’re ready to go,” he offers, his voice professional but his eyes sharp.

Pepper glances back at Killian, now stepping into his sleek vehicle. “Yes, I just…God, I forgot my…other thing. I’ll be right back.”

Happy doesn’t press her, but as Killian’s car drives off, his eyes narrow. Pulling out his phone, he discreetly snaps a photo of the license plate. Something about this guy doesn’t sit right. And Happy trusts his instincts.

As Happy plans to confirm his suspicions,  Rhodey’s car hums along the coastal highway, with him at the wheel and Steve riding shotgun. In the back seats, Gohan, Videl, Goten, and Trunks sat, the silence palpable. Tony, his panic attack at the bar still looming large in all their minds.

Steve can see the worry reflected in the kids'  eyes when he glances back at them.

“We need to talk to him,” Steve says, breaking the silence in the front of the car.

Rhodey glances over at him, frowning. “Yeah, we do. But how? You know how Tony is. He’ll deflect, crack a joke, or pull some big stunt to change the subject.”

“Or all three,” Gohan adds from the back, leaning forward slightly to join the conversation.

Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to push him too hard. The last thing we need is for him to shut down or get defensive. But we can’t ignore what happened.”

“You’re not wrong,” Rhodey replies. “He’s always been a guy who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders—sometimes literally—but this is different. The wormhole, New York...it’s messing with his head.”

“It’s obvious he’s not okay." Videl chimes in. "But if we’re gonna talk to him, we need to be careful. No ganging up on him.”

“Agreed,” Steve says. “We’ll keep it casual, but we have to let him know we’re here for him.”

Goten, who had been quietly listening, pipes up, his voice small but resolute. “Do you think Daddy’s scared?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, the weight of it silencing the adults. Finally, Steve turns around in his seat to face the boy, his expression soft. “I think your dad’s been through a lot, Goten. And sometimes, even grown-ups get scared. But that’s okay. What’s important is that we’re there for him.”

Goten nods. “We’ll help him. Just like he helps us.”

Steve smiles, his heart warming at the boy’s determination. “That’s the spirit.”

Rhodey pulls into the driveway of the Malibu mansion. “Well, here we are,” he says, cutting the engine. He turns to Steve, his tone serious. “Good luck. I’ll be around if you need backup.”

“Thanks, but I think we’ve got it.”

As the group step out of Rhodey’s car, they freeze at the sight of a towering stuffed rabbit looming over the front door.

"What the fuc–" Videl begins to say, but stops short when Gohan nudges her arm with his own and gestures to the boys.

“Is that a…rabbit?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” Goten exclaims, his eyes wide with delight. “It’s HUGE!” 

Trunks was already running toward the plush behemoth. “I bet we can climb it!”

The boys took off, their previous concern for Tony momentarily forgotten. Videl rolls her eyes but lets them go without a word, staying behind to keep an eye on them while Steve and Gohan exchange a look before heading toward the house.

Just as they reach the front steps, the soft hum of an engine signals another arrival. Pepper’s car pulls into the driveway, its tires crunching against the gravel. The moment she steps out, she sighs, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off the stress of the day.

Her relief, however, is short-lived. Her gaze lands on the enormous stuffed rabbit, its floppy ears swaying awkwardly in the coastal breeze. She freezes, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“What in the world…?”

Goten, perched on the rabbit’s shoulder, spots her and excitedly waves her over. “Hi, Mommy! Look what Daddy got!”

Shaking her head, Pepper smirks and waves back. “Hi, baby. I see it. Not sure how I could miss it.”

As she walks toward the house, she finds Steve and Gohan waiting for her near the door, their expressions unreadable but tense. Pepper's sharp eyes instantly pick up on it.

“Alright, what’s going on?” she asks, crossing her arms. “You two look like you’re about to stage an intervention.”

Steve pauses for a moment before exchanging a glance with Gohan, silently deciding who should go first.

"That's not inaccurate." Gohan hesitantly replies.

“It’s about Tony.” Steve adds.

Pepper’s expression softens. “What about him?”

Steve exhales, running a hand through his hair. “He had…a moment earlier. At the restaurant.”

Pepper frowns. “A moment?”

Gohan shifts uncomfortably. “A panic attack.”

Her eyes widen, but she quickly schools her features. “What? Tony doesn’t get panic attacks.”

Steve gave her a sad but knowing look. “That’s what I thought too.”

Pepper’s lips part slightly as she processes their words. It wasn’t like Tony to lose control—not in a way anyone could see. He was reckless, impulsive, and self-destructive at times, but outright panic? That was something new.

Gohan glances at the house. “We didn’t want to bring it up in front of the Goten and Trunks, especially now that they're distracted. And we know he wouldn’t want you worrying about it either, but…it was bad.”

Pepper swallows, her heart tightening. “How bad?”

Steve’s jaw tenses. “He nearly hyperventilated in the suit.”

She inhales sharply, and for a brief moment, something flickers behind her eyes—worry, anger, something unspoken. But when she spoke, her voice was steady. “And let me guess—he ran off before you could talk about it?"

“Straight into the sky,” Gohan confirms.

Steve sighs. “We don’t want to push him, but he needs to talk to someone. He needs to acknowledge that something’s wrong."

Pepper nods and takes a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll handle it."

Gohan frowns. “Mom, you know if you go at Dad too hard, he’ll just shut down.”

She arches an eyebrow. “What else can I do? Tiptoe around it? Pretend I didn’t just hear that my best friend and co-parent—who, by the way, pilots a metal death trap for a living—had a full-blown anxiety attack and then launched himself into the sky?”

“No one’s saying you shouldn’t be worried." Steve assures. "We just…we know how he is. If he thinks he’s being cornered, he’ll push back harder."

Gohan nods. “We figured if we eased into it, we might be able to get him to open up. Maybe talk about it on his terms."

Pepper purses her lips, considering their words carefully. Finally, she lets out a slow breath. “Fine. I’ll play along. But if he keeps brushing it off, I’m calling Bruce and we’re staging a real intervention.”

Steve smirks. “Fair enough.”

Gohan chuckles. “Now that I’d love to see.”

With that decided, the three of them step into the house, ready to face Tony together.

Inside the house, the warm glow of the minimalist interior greeted them, but the moment was quickly overshadowed by the sight in the living room.

Tony was slouched on the couch, fully clad in one of his Iron Man suits, the faint glow of the arc reactor casting a soft light against the sleek furniture.

His head turns toward them as they enter, the helmet’s glowing eyes flickering slightly.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Pepper starts, her tone casual but laced with curiosity. Then, her eyes flick from Tony’s armored form to the massive stuffed rabbit outside. “I...ok, I gotta ask. What's with the giant rabbit?”

Tony slightly tilts his head, the servos in the suit whirring. “Oh, hey. That? Just Steve's Christmas present.”

Pepper shoots him a bewildered look, then turns to Steve and Gohan, silently hoping for an explanation.

They shrug, both of them just as confused as she is.

Deciding to set aside the rabbit issue, Pepper turns her attention back to Tony and asks, “You’re wearing the suit in the house now? What is that, Mark 15?”

Tony glances at the small number '42' etched onto the armor’s plating. “Uh…yeah. Something like that. You know, everybody needs a hobby.”

Pepper huffs. “And you have to wear your hobby in the living room?”

Tony pushes himself to his feet, the mechanical whirs of the suit accompanying the movement. “Just breaking it in. Always a little pinchy in the gooey bag at first.” He gave a dramatic shake of his hips, the metal plating clinking softly as he did. “See? Gotta work out the kinks.”

Gohan chuckles at Tony's antics, while Steve suppresses his own amusement and sighs. “Tony.”

“Steve.” Tony perfectly mimicks his boyfriend's exasperated tone.

Pepper ignores their exchange, rubbing her temples before looking back at him. “Getting us back on track here. Could you tell me—how exactly are we supposed to fit that thing through the door?”

Tony dismissively waves his hand. “Good question. I’ve got a team of guys coming tomorrow. We’re gonna blow out that wall. Problem solved.”

Pepper sighs. “Of course. How could I forget? You and your grand gestures.”

Tony steps closer, his voice dipping into something more playful. “Tense day?”

“Let’s just say it wasn’t boring,” she replies with a small shrug.

Sensing an opening, Tony moves behind her and begins massaging her shoulders through her blazer. “Ooh, shoulders. A little knotty. Naughty girl.” He looks over at Steve. “But hey, Cap, what do you think about the custom rabbit? Nailed it, right?”

Pepper smirks at Steve and steps to the side so he can get closer to Tony.

“I appreciate the thought, Tony." He replies. "I really do. In fact…why don’t you lift up that faceplate and give me a kiss?” As well as give him a chance to gauge how his boyfriend is really doing. Tony's eyes can't hide anything from Steve.

Tony taps the helmet. “Ah. Yeah. Sorry, Babe. Can’t do that. Want to kiss it on the facial slit?”

Steve sighs in exasperation. “Tony, just take the damn helmet off.”

“And maybe act a little less weird while you’re at it?” Gohan quips.

Tony holds up a metal-clad finger. “First of all, rude. Second of all, it’s staying on.”

Pepper shoots him a withering glare. “Well maybe I’ll go find a crowbar to shimmy it open.”

Tony nervously chuckles as she starts toward the stairs. “Whoa, hang on! There’s, uh…a radiation leak down there.”

She doen’t slow her stride for even a second. “I’ll take my chances.”

“That’s risky!”

Steve and Gohan exchange glances before following her down.

As soon as they enter the lab, Tony is caught red-handed.

At the far end of the room, the actual Tony is standing at a workstation in gym clothes, stretching his arms.

Meanwhile, the Mark 42 suit—operating independently—trails behind them like a guilty puppy, its head tilting ever so slightly as if trying to look innocent.

“Busted,” Tony admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

Pepper folds her arms and raises an eyebrow. “This is a new level of lame. Even for you.”

“Sorry,” he mutters.

Steve and Gohan flanked either side of her, both unimpressed.

“Really, Tony?” Steve deadpans.

“Is this how you’re coping?” Gohan asks.

Tony makes a vague gesture toward the suit. “I mean…kinda.”

Pepper’s gaze sweeps the room and lands on a half-eaten food tray. “You ate without us? On family night?”

Tony clears his throat. “He was just hosting you.”

“You mean you were,” Pepper corrects.

Tony shrugs, looking guilty. “Well, yeah. I was just finishing up some work.”

“Uh-huh.”

“The kind of work that involves not sleeping and obsessively building suits?” Steve asks.

Tony sighs dramatically. “Oh great, now my better half is tag-teaming me with my co-parent. What is this, an intervention?”

Pepper smirks. “Not yet. But give me a reason.”

Tony turns to Gohan. “You too, Kid?”

“I mean, I’d rather not gang up on you," Gohan replies. "but you’re not making this easy. Just talk to us, Dad.”

Tony groans, rubbing his face. “Okay, fine. Maybe I have been a little…preoccupied.”

“A little?” Steve challenges.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. A lot.”

Pepper sighs, her irritation giving way to concern. “Tony…what’s really going on?”

For the first time since they’d arrived, Tony hesitates. His usual quick wit falters for a second, and he shifts on his feet.

He looks at Steve, then at Gohan—both of whom had been there earlier, both of whom witnessed his moment of weakness, but weren’t mentioning it in front of Pepper. (He was unaware his boyfriend and oldest son had told her before they came inside.)

Tony exhales, slumping onto a nearby stool, his usual bravado slipping. Finally, he decides to open up. “Nothing’s been the same since New York.”

Steve sits down beside him. “I know, Tony. I get it.”

“No, you don’t,” Tony says, his voice cracking slightly. “You’re a super-soldier, Cap. You were made for this stuff. Me? I’m just a guy in a tin can. And now there are gods, aliens, dimensions I didn’t even know existed...and I can’t explain half of it. But I’m supposed to be ready for all of it."

Tony runs a hand through his hair. “But I can’t sleep. You all go to bed, I come down here. I tinker. Because the threat is out there, because if I don’t, the only thing keeping me together—this illusion of control—it’s gone. And then I lose what I can’t live without.” He meets Pepper, Steve, and Gohan's eyes. “This crazy family we've built. You three, Rhodey, Happy, Bruce, and Monkey.”

Steve rests a hand on his shoulder. “Tony…your suits are just machines. They’re not a substitute for living.”

Tony shrugs. “Maybe.”

Steve wraps an arm around him and hugs him to his chest. “Then maybe it’s time you let us help.”

Gohan nods. “You don’t have to do everything alone.”

"You can lean on us." Pepper adds.

Tony exhales, resting his head against Steve’s chest for a moment.

Steve gently reaches up and removes the headband controlling the suit, tossing it onto the nearest table.

“How about you relax with a nice, hot shower?"

Tony nods. “Okay.”

Steve takes Tony's hand, pulls him to his feet and leads him toward the stairs, then with a small smirk, whispers in his ear. “And I'll join you.”

Tony grins, his usual bravado returning just a little. “Better.”

Pepper shakes her head as she and Gohan turn to leave. “Well, that could've gone worse.” 

Gohan chuckles. “Yeah. But I think we made progress.”  

As they reenter the living room, they hear Tony argue, “I still think the rabbit was a solid gift.”  

Steve's amused voice floats from down the hall. “We’ll talk about that later.”

That night, as the couple lay in bed, the demons of New York return to haunt Tony’s dreams. The Chitauri invasion, the nuke, the vast emptiness of space—it all comes rushing back with a vengeance.

His body jerks as he relives saying goodbye to Steve, to his boys, before plunging through the portal into the unknown.

Sweat dampens his brow, his breathing becomes uneven as he groans in distress. Beside him, Steve stirs, instantly attuned to his partner’s unease.

“Tony!” he calls, reaching out to shake him awake.

Before Tony could fully rouse, the Mark 42 suit activates on its own, its cold metal hands shoving Steve off the bed with surprising force.

The abrupt movement jolts Tony awake. He shot upright, heart pounding in his chest. “Power down!” he commanded, his voice hoarse.

The suit instantly freezes before collapsing into its component parts with a loud clatter.

Still gasping for air, Tony turns to Steve, who remained frozen in shock, hands braced against the floor. His wide blue eyes flick between Tony and the now-scattered suit.

“I—I must have called it in my sleep,” Tony stammers, running a shaky hand through his damp hair. “That’s not supposed to happen. I’ll recalibrate the sensors. Just—just give me a second to catch my breath.”

Steve quickly recovers, pushing himself up and moving toward the bed. “It’s okay, Tony,” he reassures, voice steady.

Tony shakes his head, his expression tight with self-recrimination. “No, it’s not! You could’ve been hurt!”

Before he could spiral further, before his self-blame could twist into something deeper and darker, Steve closes the distance between them and pulls Tony into his arms.

“Hey, look at me,” Steve murmurs, his grip firm but gentle as he holds Tony close. “I’m okay. We’re okay. Just breathe.”

Tony shudders against him, pressing his forehead against Steve’s shoulder, his body still trembling. The strong, steady rhythm of Steve’s heartbeat beneath his cheek anchors him.

Steve whispers reassurances, carding his fingers through Tony’s hair, rubbing slow circles along his back until his breathing evens out, until the panic stops clawing at his throat.

Just as Tony’s body finally relaxes, a terrified scream rips through the silence.

The sound cuts through him like a blade.

Goten.

In an instant, both men are on their feet, rushing down the hall to Goten’s room.

Tony barely restrains himself from throwing the door open, instead swinging it wide just in time to see Goten thrashing under his blankets, sobbing.

“Baby boy, what’s wrong?” Tony is at his side in an instant, scooping the shaking child into his arms and rocking him gently. “Daddy’s here. You’re okay.”

Steve kneels beside them, placing a reassuring hand on Goten’s back, rubbing slow, calming circles. “Did you have a nightmare, buddy?”

Goten’s panicked eyes dart between them, his small chest heaving with each ragged breath. He fights to get the words out through his hiccuping sobs.

“Un-Uncle Ha-Happy!”

Tony’s brows furrow in confusion. “You had a nightmare about Happy?”

Goten frantically shakes his head, fresh tears spilling onto his cheeks. “Not a nightmare! Something bad happened to Uncle Happy! I—I can’t sense him anymore!”

As Tony and Steve work to calm Goten, hurried footsteps echo down the hallway. Moments later, Gohan and Pepper appear in the doorway, their faces tense with concern.

“Goten?” Gohan rushes to his little brother’s side, kneeling beside the bed. “What happened?”

Pepper, dressed in her robe, crosses the room and places a comforting hand on Goten’s back. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Still nestled in Tony’s arms, Goten sniffles, wiping his tear-streaked face against his father’s shirt. His wide, frightened eyes meet Gohan’s before darting back to Steve and Pepper.

“It’s Uncle Happy,” he chokes out. “Something bad happened to him—I know it!”

Tony’s stomach drops. His arms instinctively tighten around Goten as he exchanges an uneasy glance with Steve and Gohan.

“What do you mean, son?” Steve gently asks. “Did you see something in a dream?”

Goten shook his head violently. “No! It wasn’t just a dream! I could see him following someone. He got in a fight, and there was a blast. But now, even though I'm awake, I can't feel him anymore…” His small hands clutch at Tony’s shirt, his voice breaking. “He’s gone.”

Silence fell over the room, thick and suffocating.

Pepper's breath hitched as a cold chill ran down her spine. “Happy was at SI headquarters with me earlier, but when we left, he said he’d be home late—something about having ‘one last thing’ to take care of tonight that couldn't wait,” she whispers, her eyes widening with growing dread.

Gohan’s expression darkens, already piecing things together. He turns to Tony, his voice urgent. “Dad, we need to call him. Now.”

Tony doesn’t hesitate. Shifting Goten slightly in his arms, he looks toward the ceiling and tells JARVIS, "J, call Happy."

The line rings once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

“Come on, Hap. Pick up.” Tony pleads.

A fourth ring. Then a fifth.

Then—voicemail.

Tony’s jaw clenches as the automated message plays.

“This is Happy Hogan. Leave a message.” Beep.

For a long moment, no one speaks. The only sound is Goten’s uneven breathing as he clings to Tony.

Gohan gets back to his feet. “I’ll get JARVIS to trace his location.”

“I’m coming with you,” Pepper says, leaving no room for arguments.

Tony swallows hard, his mind racing. His gut is telling him that whatever has happened to Happy, it isn’t good. He looks down at Goten, who's still trembling in his arms.

Steve rests a hand on his shoulder. “You stay here with Goten,” he says, his voice steady. “We’ll figure this out.”

Tony hesitates, torn. Every part of him wants to storm out the door and find his friend, but one look at the terrified little boy in his arms makes the decision for him.

“Be careful,” he tells Gohan and Pepper.

Gohan nods, his expression grim. “We will.”

As he and Pepper rush out of the room, Tony tightens his grip on Goten, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“We’ll find him, Monkey,” he tells him. “I promise.” 

But deep down, dread curls in his chest.  

Because Goten’s never been wrong before.

-Minutes Earlier-

The neon lights of the Chinese Theater in Los Angeles cast vibrant hues against the evening sky, drawing tourists and locals alike to its iconic façade. Among the throng of people, Aldrich Killian’s associate Savin casually approaches a man seated on the theater’s steps.

“Can you regulate?” Savin asks, his tone curt but casual.

The man, Taggert, nods, his demeanor stiff and uncertain. “Yes, I can regulate.”

Savin studies him for a moment, his gaze sharp. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” Taggert replies, more firmly this time.

Satisfied, Savin hands over a briefcase. “It’s a decent batch. Don’t say I never did nothin’ for you.”

Taggert accepts the case with a nod. “Thank you...I mean, for understanding.”

From a distance, Happy watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Wearing his badge prominently, he tries to blend into the crowd, but his gaze never leaves the pair.

As Savin turns to walk away, Happy seizes the opportunity. He makes his way toward Taggert, who had just stood up to leave. With calculated clumsiness, Happy bumps into him, causing the briefcase to fall to the ground and spill its contents.

“Sorry, buddy,” Happy says, crouching down to help gather the scattered items.

As he did, he catches a glimpse of Taggert’s hand—its faintly glowing red, a molten heat radiating from his skin. Happy’s brow furrows, his instincts screaming that something isn’t right.

Pocketing a small item from the case, Happy rises and starts to walk away, but Savin suddenly appears, intercepting him.

“What’re you doin’, buddy?” Savin asks in a mockingly, friendly tone. “Out by yourself? A little date night? Watching your favorite chick flick, maybe?”

Happy meets his gaze, unfazed. “Yeah, a little movie called 'The Party’s Over', starring you and your junkie girlfriend.” He pulls the stolen item from his pocket. “Here’s the ticket.”

Savin’s smile vanishes as he reaches for the item, but Happy reacts first, landing two solid punches to Savin’s face. To his shock, the skin on Savin’s face glows red and heals instantly.

Savin’s expression darkens. With unnatural strength, he grabs Happy and hurls him aside. Happy hit the ground hard, gasping for breath as he tried to recover.

Before Savin could approach him again, Taggert calls out, his voice panicked. “Savin!”

“What?” Savin turns, irritation flashing across his face.

Taggert’s body starts glowing brighter, his skin blistering and bubbling with heat. “Help! Help me!”

In an instant, Taggert explodes, a deafening blast rips through the theater. The shockwave shatters windows, ignite flames, and sends debris flying.

Amid the chaos, Happy lays severely injured, his vision swimming. Through the haze of pain, he sees Savin walking away unscathed, his body still glowing and healing as if the explosion had no effect on him.

That morning, all Across America, televisions flicker to life as a new message from the Mandarin broadcasts.

“True story about fortune cookies,” the Mandarin begins, his voice smooth yet menacing. “They look Chinese, they sound Chinese, but they’re actually an American invention. Which is why they’re hollow, full of lies, and leave a bad taste in the mouth.”

The footage shifts to scenes of the devastation at the Chinese Theater.

“My disciples just destroyed another cheap American knock-off: the Chinese Theater,” he continues. “Mr. President, I know this must be getting frustrating, but this season of terror is drawing to a close. And don’t worry—the big one is coming. Your graduation.”

In a dimly lit hospital room, Tony sits at Happy’s bedside alongside Pepper, Steve, Gohan, and Goten, his expression uncharacteristically somber.

A nurse enters quietly to check on Happy, her movements careful and precise.

“Hi,” Tony softly greets her, barely looking up.

“Oh,” the nurse replies, startled he addressed her.

Tony nods toward the TV playing in the corner. “Mind leaving that on?”

“Sure,” she replies, adjusting the volume slightly before returning to her duties.

As the nurse tends to Happy, Tony sighs, gently lifts Goten—who had cried himself to sleep— and silently hands him to Pepper.

He glances at his injured friend. “Sunday nights, PBS. Downton Abbey. That’s his show. He thinks it’s elegant.” He hesitates, his voice dropping. “One more thing...make sure everyone wears their badges. He’s a stickler for that sort of thing. Plus, my guys won’t let anyone in without them.”

With that, Tony leaves the room, steeling himself for the barrage of reporters waiting outside.  

The reporters swarm the hospital entrance, their questions firing like bullets.

“Mr. Stark! Our sources are telling us this is another Mandarin attack. Anything else you can tell us?”

Tony ignores them, his gaze set firmly on his car.

A pushy tabloid reporter calls out, “Hey, Mr. Stark! When is somebody gonna kill this guy? Just sayin’.”

That stops him. Slowly, Tony turns, removing his sunglasses and addressing the crowd directly.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice cold. “Here’s a little holiday greeting I’ve been wanting to send to the Mandarin. I just didn’t know how to phrase it until now.”

The reporters fall silent as Tony stares into the camera.

“My name is Tony Stark, and I’m not afraid of you. I know you’re a coward, so I’ve decided that you just died, pal. I’m gonna come get the body. There’s no politics here; it’s just good old-fashioned revenge. No Pentagon, no backup. Just you and me.”

He pauses, letting the words sink in. “And on the off chance you’re a man, here’s my home address: 10880 Malibu Point, 90265. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

With that, he turns to the tabloid reporter, snatches their phone, and hurls it against the nearest wall.

“Bill me,” he mutters before climbing into his car and driving off.