Schrödinger Platypus
So, knowing his platypus was going to show up any minute now was not making that little stroll in the Afghan desert any more pleasant, but then, that had been his choice.
If you get to start again, might as well start at the beginning, so to speak.
And considering what he'd just seen, the more time he got, the better. If only to cut a few things down, like the Widow's massive ego, Rogers bullheaded stupidity and Fury's manipulative tendencies, for starters.
Ha, he heard the 'copters coming his way, and...
"Tony!"
Yep, that was his platypus. Tony knew a great big ball of fire and some explosion would draw him like a moth to a flame. Rhodey may grumble for form, but he LOVED explosions. Actual rocket scientist, after all, people.
But between the Siberian showdown, the movie marathon from Hell, and his post Afghan cave body, Tony wasn't feeling too good. The minute he felt Rhodey propping him up, he managed to point at his chest and say "don't let them poke at it, Sugarplum, I need that."
Felt Rhodey lift what was left of this tee, heard "Oh, Tones..." and then blissfully passed out. He was protected.
When he woke up, he was comfortable, or at least as comfortable as one could be on an army issue med bed, and Rhodey was slightly dozing on a chair at his side. He avoided moving, recalling what Peps had told him afterwards, how relentlessly his honey bear had looked for him during his captivity, pushing all the buttons, calling all the favors and then some. Of course, he was tired!
And Tony had put him on protection detail, so as soon as he moved, he would...
"I'm awake, you idiot."
"But..."
"You stopped sounding like a buzz saw." Was the somewhat terse answer. Tony gasped in outrage.
"Are you suggesting I snore? I am feeling so maligned right now!"
"And apart from that, how are you feeling, really? And what is that... contraption, and why do you *need it*?"
His platypus was not in the mood to be beating around the bush, so Tony explained. Well, the cliff notes version, at least, before catching his eyes.
"Rhodey, we got to talk."
"Isn't it what we're doing?"
"And by WE, I mean, *we, the United States of America armed forces*. I blew up all I could in there when I escaped, but there were a LOT of SI weapons in those caves. We've always had that problem with fakes, but this is different. This is genuine stuff, and not a little of it.
Someone has been back door dealing at SI, and considering the stuff they had access to in that hellhole, it's someone very high up. This is BAD, Rhodey bear..."
"One to ten?" Rhodey answered, resorting to something that could be used to rank explosions, alcohol, the latest Stark screw up... And had done so faithfully since MIT.
"Depends. At least 8, and you may want to up it a notch when you learn their backer wanted me killed initially. They decided to keep me around so I could build them a Jericho."
Rhodey blanched, went out of the room like jet-propelled, came back with a burly MP, and was out again like Schrödinger Platypus.
Besides the somewhat amusing hijinks, it was the first thing Tony had decided to change. Going lone wolf with Iron Man, not to mention his decision to shut down the weapons division, had been a very bad decision, looking back on it.
First, it had cost him the Army support, which in turn had isolated him and made him a prime target for all those assholes out there, Fury, Natashalie, SHIELDRA and all the gang.
So yeah, he'd stopped making weapons.
Not that anybody had been grateful. The Army, as expected, had been collectively pissed. So had the board, even without Stane muddying the water for all he was worth (not much).
And it's not as if it had changed anything afterward. He had STILL been making weapons, except just for a very limited bunch of morons... Leaving regular forces to the likes of Hammer industries, which, ouch.
And it's not as if he'd been able to turn that page either. Iron Man or not, the press loved to dust up the "Merchant of Death" thing regularly. And the Avengers...
Considering the roaster consisted of people who either worked, had worked, or were still working with the military... And add to that a pair of professional assassins, well it's not like they had a leg to stand on.
Which had sure not stopped them in treating him like the scum of the Earth.
In short, he'd blown up all his credit and support to keep doing the same job... but without the perks... Or the money... Or even a modicum of respect as time went by. And considering Thanos, leaving the Earth woefully unprepared.
And all the while, the merry band of morons had been gallivanting around the planet, killing people and destroying stuff right and left, without repercussions because reasons... And having a temper tantrum of epic proportions the first time they were told "no".
Which, Tony admitted, had been partly his fault. If he hadn't run himself ragged to protect their sorry asses, they might have realized earlier they were not exempt from the law. Might, mind you. He'd just learned a very pointed lesson on how far Rogers could take the *his way or the highway* thing.
Yeah, not this time.
He heard the commotion in the corridor leading to his room and steeled himself for what would be the first of a looooong series of meetings.