he's downstairs
In the lounge of Tony’s house by the sea, Pepper and Natalie are both working, phones in their hands. "Yes," Pepper says. "But the fundamentals of the company are still very, very strong despite the events in Monaco."
“Of course they want to tear everything apart now.”
“As if anything actually happened.” groans Tony. He caught the guy! And pretty quickly if you ask him.
"Yes. Yes, of course," sounds Natalie. She leans forward to Pepper. "The AP wants a quote," she whispers.
"Don't tell him, fax them," Pepper whispers back.
“Oh, I really like her, she is smart.” nods to herself Maria.
“Who still faxes in the future?” Tony narrows his eyes, looking at the screen as if he expected Pepper herself to turn around and give him the answer.
“First Fax Machines just appeared in 1986, the ones in the future must’ve been really improved,” answers Howard instead.
Just then Rhodey appears in the lounge, looking distinctly frazzled. "Where is he?"
“Please, don’t.” the Tony lying on the couch squeezes his eyes shut.
Both women twist to look at him. "He doesn't want to be disturbed," says Natalie, but Pepper answers, "He's downstairs." at the same time.
"Traitor!" Tony points at the strawberry blonde with his finger.
Onscreen Natasha gives Pepper a look but then goes straight back to her phone conversation. On the wall in front of them are three television screens running at the same time.
“Now this is the kind of futuristic TV I’m talking about. Not the one we’ve seen at the beginning of this…” Tony waves his hand “whatever it is.”
“Right now they are trying to ruin you on those screens.” reminds Howard.
“Let’s just wait and see how it will be handled.” Maria gestures for them to quiet down so they could get back to watching.
The TV in the middle is of a news broadcast where a reporter is saying, “…but his continuing erratic behavior may lead many people to ask themselves: 'can this man still protect us?'"
“Did they watch the same fight as we did?” Tony turns to his parents. He fucking dealt with this Vanko guy. Leave him alone.
“People are just scared, dear.” his mother, a voice of reason answers.
“People want blood.” his father shakes his head instead.
Just at that moment, Pepper says, "Iron Man never stopped protecting us, the events in Monaco prove that."
“Thank you!” the teen almost jumps up.
Downstairs in his workshop, Tony is sitting in a car staring at a large holographic screen displaying all sorts of images of newspaper clippings, photographs, and information boxes.
“Those holograms! I need ‘em.”
“I still can’t get used to seeing this.” Howard shakes his head. “It’s incredible.”
Tony’s noticeably pale and has deep rings around his eyes.
“Oh dear, you look terrible.” Maria sounds worried.
“Thanks, mom.” the teen sends her a smile but it doesn’t take any tension away from her shoulders.
"Query complete, sir," speaks up Tony’s AI. "Anton Vanko was a Soviet physicist who defected to the United States in 1943. However, he was accused of espionage and was deported in 1967. His son Ivan, who is also a physicist, was convicted of selling Soviet-era weapons-grade plutonium to Pakistan and served fifteen years in Kopeisk prison. No further records exist."
“He really does sound like a body-less version of Edwin Jarvis,” Howard says thoughtfully.
At that moment Rhodey keys himself into the workshop and opens the door.
“Should’ve taken his access away,” Tony mutters.
"Tony," the man starts. "You gotta get upstairs and get on top of this situation right now. Listen," He comes forward into the room. "I've been on the phone with the National Guard all day, trying to talk them out of rolling tanks up the PCH, knocking down your front door, and taking these."
“That’s a good Rhodey,” Tony says under his nose.
He points at the part of the wall where a collection of Iron Man Suits is standing. "They're going to take your Suits, Tony, okay? They're getting sick of the games." But Tony just sits motionless, staring dully up at the screen.
“Can they, though? Just come into my house and take it?” Tony narrows his eyes.
“They’ll find a judge who isn’t fond of you, write some bullshit excuse and get a warrant.”
“Howard, language.” cuts in Maria.
“Unfortunately, yes. They can certainly do that.”
"You said nobody else would possess this technology for twenty years," continues his rant Rhodey.
"Five to ten, honeybear. I said five to ten.” argues the teen from the couch because the future him doesn’t seem to have any fight left in him at this point. “Twenty was the Hammer guy, and I’m not changing my mind,” he mutters.
"Well, guess what - somebody else had it yesterday. It's not theoretical anymore."
“Vanko inherited it, he didn't invent it," this time speaks up Howard.
“Besides it's just one person, and he wasn’t good with it.” Tony shrugs.
Tony just keeps ignoring his best friend, and as Rhodey comes closer, his brow creases with worry. "Are you okay?" he asks anxiously.
"No, honey, he’s not,” answers Maria. “You can see that he’s not.”
Tony seems to wake up from some haze and claps Rhodey's arm. "Let's go," he says and opens the car door, then nearly falling as he tries to climb out.
“Oh my god!” Maria cries out, instinctively getting up before she remembers that she can’t help her son.
Howard winces, and Tony just blinks.
"Hey, hey!" says Rhodey, hurrying round to the other side of the car and pulling Tony up. "You all right?"
“Of course he’s not!” answers Maria.
‘Ahh, just dying.’ Tony thinks but doesn’t dare to say it out loud because his mother looks minutes away from a heart attack.
"Yeah - I should get to my desk," pants Tony, and Rhodey helps him to it. "See that cigar box?" asks Tony.
“Palladium.” Howard breathes out, looking worried, which is a rare sight but this is the first time he looks like that during this funny little future viewing.
"Yeah,"
"It's palladium," Tony huffs as Rhodey lowers him into the chair. The man opens the box, looking back to check on Tony. Looking decidedly unwell, Tony pulls the Arc Reactor from its socket in his chest and up comes the depleted palladium core.
“Ugh.” winces Tony, doing his best to ignore the look of horror on his mother’s face.
A small ring of smoke is billowing from around the core. "Is that supposed to be smoking?" asks Rhodey.
"Technically, yes," answers Tony from the couch. "It's depleted." he shrugs.
“No, it is not supposed to be smoking.” Howard sends him a glare.
“It is not supposed to be in your body.” joins her husband Maria.
"If you must know, it's neutron damage," rasps Tony. "It's from the reactor wall." He hands Rhodey the reactor.
Rhodey pulls out the smoking core. "You had this in your body?" he asks wryly.
“What with the unnecessary rhetorical questions?” Tony rolls his eyes.
“James is just worried, darling.” Maria answers. “And he has a reason.”
Tony turns away, and Rhodey catches a glimpse of the side of his throat. "And how about that high-tech crossword puzzle on your neck?" he asks about the veins standing out far too sharply against the colorless flesh.
“Oh my goodness.” shakes her head Maria once again, and Howard lies a hand on her arm.
"Road rash," answers Tony.
“Right.” sounds Howard, and Tony just wants it to stop.
Rhodey looks at Tony, not believing him, and hands him the Arc Reactor, now with a new core inside. Tony pushes it into its socket and after twisting it till it clicks into position its glow pokes through his shirt once again. He picks up another bottle of chlorophyll, glancing back at Rhodey while the man’s watching him closely. "What are you looking at?" he asks.
"I'm looking at you," says Rhodey. "You want to do this whole lone gunslinger act, and it's unnecessary. You don't have to do this alone."
Tony just groans, tired of this pity look and his parents' gazes traveling between the screen and his form on the couch.
"You know, I wish I could believe that," Tony looks up slightly. "I really do. But you've gotta trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I'm doing." he looks back at Rhodey.
“Do you?”
Rhodey's gaze remains troubled.
“He doesn’t believe me.” gasps theatrically Tony. ‘I don’t really believe me either, though. That’s fine, buddy.’ thinks the teen.