Fic: The Priming Game - Iron Man, 3/3

[amonitrate]

Previously

Title: The Priming Game, 3/3
Summary: Rhodey wonders if from now on it's going to be Tony Before and Tony After.
Notes: something of a prequel to "Sentinel" but it stands alone.

At 1900 Lefferts calls Rhodey into his office. Tony's been in custody for fifteen hours, most of that in interrogation. When Rhodey is ushered inside the general is at his desk, starched and ramrod straight, but there are new lines of exhaustion on his face and his eyes are weary. Rhodey finds himself in the unexpected position of feeling a little sympathy for the man. God knows he's never had any luck when it comes to Tony. But then, Tony's never pulled anything like this before.

Rhodey stands inside the doorway and waits for the general to acknowledge his presence. It doesn't take long. Lefferts looks up from a file two inches thick and sighs.

"Take a seat, Rhodes."

Rhodey would rather stand but he does as he's told, even if it wasn't precisely an order. No use in antagonizing Lefferts, since Tony has already taken care of that for him. He sits down in the chair across from the general and suppresses his first impulse, which is to ask to see Tony, because that's clearly not why Lefferts asked him here.

"I understand the man is your friend, not just your assignment. But after that stunt last night…" Lefferts shakes his head. "If he were anyone else but Tony Stark, he'd never see the sun again."

"He's not a soldier, sir. And he's been through a lot," Rhodey ventures.

"He put everyone in that hospital in danger. If those oxygen canisters had ignited we could have had one hell of an explosion on our hands. I can't take that lightly."

There isn't anything Rhodey can say to that, as it's all true, but he has to say something in Tony's defense. "He knew what he was doing. It wouldn't have gone off unless he wanted it to."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Lefferts replies. He folds his arms over his chest and frowns. "And now I'm in quite a predicament, Rhodes. Because Stark hasn't told me the truth about his captivity and I need to know what he's hiding."

"With all due respect, sir, if you're referring to the robot, it seems a little far-fetched."

"The man's been designing advanced robotics since before his balls dropped. And he was in those caves for three months."

"Even if there was some kind of robot, what does it matter? Whatever he did, it got him free," Rhodey leans forward, catches himself slipping out of his professional cool. Sits back in his chair again. "And if he's not giving us the whole story, well," he pauses. Presses on through his own reluctance to bring up the subject. "Maybe there's reason for that. You know how groups like the Ten Rings operate. He refused to talk to the psychologist but his doctors suspect he was tortured. The Red Cross is sure of it."

Lefferts nods, looking about as worn out as Rhodey feels. "I'm not blind, Rhodes. But before I can allow the Red Cross access to him, I need to know what he knows."

"He's given you the Ten Rings. The names of the leaders, their approximate numbers, their base of operations. You've had him interrogated seven times in the past week and his story hasn't changed. And if you keep him here much longer, his people in the States are going to let loose a firestorm of bad publicity on us. Stark Industries has a lot of friends in Congress, not to mention the DoD. They're not going to care about the reasons, sir. And they can afford to pursue this indefinitely."

"I've already had a call from the Secretary of Defense. He golfs with Obadiah Stane every second Tuesday. So don't lecture me on the sway Stark's company holds over the Pentagon, Col. Rhodes."

"He's not going to talk to you," Rhodey says, keeping as calm as he can. "He's been through hell and he just wants to go home. Last night… he was desperate. I'm not sure he sees us as any different from his captors at this point."

Lefferts leans back in his chair. Nods. "That much is clear. But if he built something for the Ten Rings, we need to know what it is."

Rhodey goes blank, just for a second. "That's what you think?" It's obvious, and it should have occurred to him sooner, but somehow the suspicion never even crossed his mind. "You think Tony gave the Jericho to the Ten Rings?"

"As you said, he was captive for three months. Probably tortured. He's a civilian. No one would blame him if he gave them what they wanted. We just need to know if he did."

Tony hadn't mentioned this line of questioning, but he'd kept repeating that Leffert didn't believe him. Rhodey rubs his eyes, suddenly utterly exhausted.

"If he told you he didn't build them anything, then he didn't," Rhodey says, finally. "What does he say about it?"

"He says that even if he'd wanted to, building the Jericho would have been impossible with the tools he had available."

"And about the robot?"

Lefferts couldn't seem to help a slight, rueful smile. "I think his exact words were something to the effect that if we thought he'd spent three months in a cave building a Cylon then we've clearly been watching too much television. I'm told he's referencing science fiction."

"Yes, sir." Rhodey shook his head. Tony forced him to watch the remade Battlestar Galactica in one marathon sitting when it first came out. Not that he'd complained. The man had an entertainment system that rivaled the local cinema.

"Look, Rhodes. I don't think for a moment that Stark has told us the full story. Or even a fraction of it, for that matter. But I'm also not stupid -- his father is a household name in our line of work, and I'd like to keep my job. But I had to try. If the Ten Rings got their hands on the kind of weapons Stark is capable of building, it could seriously undermine the stability of the region."

Rhodey waited, knowing from Lefferts' tone that the inevitable was finally coming.

"But you're right. He's not going to budge, and not only can I not afford to keep him here, but he's made himself into a security nightmare. So I'm cutting him loose. And I want him gone as soon as possible. Am I understood?"

Rhodey stood. "Yes sir. Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Lefferts says, his gaze piercing. "Just get him out of my hair."

By the time Tony is released from custody and Rhodey escorts him back to the hospital it's been... well, he doesn't know how long it's been since Tony slept. Long enough that Tony is skittish and twitchy and can't sit down, even while the nurse is securing his arm back in the sling.  Afterwards he paces the confines of his room, gaze wandering over everything but never settling on anything for long. He's got dark bags under his eyes and his free hand is shaking again but he doesn't seem aware of it, because this time he's not trying to hide it at all.

"Come on man. Sit down for a minute, you're making me dizzy."

Tony spares him a quick glance. "When're we leaving? Lefferts said I was out of here. I'm all packed and everything." His words run together, slurring a little, but Rhodey knows he hasn't had anything to drink because he hasn't been left alone since last night, not for one minute, and alcohol isn't exactly easy to come by in a base hospital. Probably easier than building a bomb out of oxygen canisters without anyone noticing, but difficult nonetheless.

"Tomorrow." He's never seen Tony this keyed up or this exhausted, not even when they were both pushing the far edges of sleep deprivation during exam week at M.I.T.

Tony's eyes narrow. He picks up a book someone must have lent him, a thick paperback Michael Crichton novel. Weighs it in his hand. Sets it down again. "Yeah? That's what you said two days ago."

"Before you decided to build a bomb, you mean?" He can't help it. It was such a desperate, dumbass move, he's still reeling.

"Yeah. I can do it again, you know." Then he laughs, and it's harsh and not at all amused.

"I know you can. That's why you're leaving tomorrow. It's the first flight out, Tony."

Tony crosses to the door and fiddles with the doorknob. It's not locked, and he doesn't try to open the door. Just turns the knob back and forth, like he's testing it. Making sure he can get out if he needs to. And if he bolts? Rhodey closes his eyes, just for a minute, because he's too tired to think that one through. And Tony stays put, so he doesn't have to, for now.

"I'd like to go now," Tony says. "We could hitch a ride. There's gotta be at least one commercial flight out of Germany tonight. Or we could take a train to Amsterdam. Or--"

Rhodey's had enough. "You really think you could sit still for a twelve hour flight, next to Ma and Pa Kettle on their way home from their European vacation? Even in first class, Tony, you have to stay in your seat." He doesn't mention that there's no way the Air Force is letting Tony Stark onto a commercial flight at this point.

"I think I've seen all there is to see here. Don't think I want to hang around long enough for them to change their minds again. Decide they want to know more about the robot." He's finally stopped pacing, and now he's leaning against the door like it's all that's keeping him upright.

"You ever gonna tell me what really happened?" Because now that he's seen all the evidence, Rhodey's pretty sure that there was a robot. Or something more than a simple explosion, at least. Because yeah, Tony Stark can build a bomb blindfolded, probably -- but captured insurgents generally don't make up shit like giant robots that shoot fire from their hands. And robotics? One of Tony Stark's real passions. Has been since before Rhodey met him.

Tony doesn't answer that. He pushes off from the door, staggers, and he has to catch himself on the foot of the bed, right where the bomb had been lashed to the metal.

"Tony."

Tony doesn't look up.

"I'm not gonna let them change their minds. We're going home tomorrow."

"Yeah," Tony says. "Okay. Tomorrow."

"You really want to land at Edwards like this?" Rhodey's only got one more card up his sleeve. He feels a little cheap playing it right now but Tony's determination to keep moving, even though there's no where to go, is starting to scare him a little.

"Like what?"

"You looked in a mirror lately? You're going to give Pepper a heart attack."

At the mention of Pepper's name Tony's head comes up, his eyes wide and blank.

"Come on, man. Give me a break. She'll kill me when she sees you."

"I don't--" Tony closes his eyes. "I can't sleep," he says finally.

"I know," Rhodey replies. "Let the nurses help you. Just this one time. You look like hell." Please, he thinks.

"I don't want to sleep," Tony admits, and he sounds hollow and lost and Rhodey knows there's nothing he can do right now to help but get Tony into his damn bed.

It'd be easy to chalk up what happened here last night to traumatic stress and Tony's massive case of sleep deprivation. A big part of Rhodey has already done just that; he'd argued as much to Lefferts, and the hospital staff had backed him up.  But it isn't the whole story, and he knows that. He just doesn't know what to do with the knowing.

"I know. I know you don't," Rhodey says. "But you need sleep, or you're gonna be wheeled off the plane at Edwards on a stretcher."

"But we're still leaving tomorrow. First flight."

Rhodey's not sure if that's agreement or not, but Tony's stopped pacing again. He sits down on the edge of the bed and rubs at his eyes.

"Okay," he says. "Okay."

"Do your best," Tony says to the nurse who hands him a small white pill, then a glass of water. There's a ghost of a cocky smile there, and the nurse returns it, and Tony swallows the pill.

Rhodey stays with him until he slips under. It doesn't take long, now that he's given in to the idea, now that he's stopped fighting so hard. Afterwards Rhodey finds his way down to the chapel and sits there for a long time. Just sits.

Tony sleeps eighteen hours, hardly moving, curled on his side on the bed. He sleeps through their scheduled flight time, and when he's still sleeping the third time Rhodey stops by he tells the nurses not to wake him, that they'll take the next plane out.

"What the fuck?" Tony growls before Rhodey even gets through the door. "I thought you said we were leaving."

He's awake and sitting cross legged at the foot of his bed, still blinking groggily, his hair slicked back and the clean shirt of his scrubs sticking damply to his chest in patches like he didn't bother to dry off before getting dressed. In the hall Castillo had told Rhodey that Tony only got out of bed and into the shower about twenty minutes ago. Which means he'll probably be up all night again, and by the time they get him back to Malibu jetlag isn't even going to begin to cover it.

So Rhodey doesn't say the first thing that comes to mind. Or even the second. "We are. Tomorrow morning," is what he settles on, instead.

"That's what you said yesterday--"

"Yeah, that's what I said before you decided to play Rip Van Winkle. We missed the flight. There's another one tomorrow.

Tony's got a cafeteria tray balanced on his knees, piled high with pale scrambled eggs and limp bacon and buttered toast. It's two hours before dinner, so somebody went out of their way to get the food for him. Rhodey figures it was Castillo. Tony hasn't eaten for probably twenty-four hours but he's just picking at it, shoving the eggs around with his plastic fork.

"Does Pepper know--"

"Yeah, I called her." Pepper hadn't been happy either, but Rhodey doesn't mention that part to Tony, just as he hadn't exactly explained the reasons behind either of the delays to Pepper. He felt guilty about it for ten seconds before the voice of pragmatism had kicked in. Tony is going home. A day or two delay won't make that much of a difference, in the long run.

"Why the hell didn't you wake me up?"

"Tony, you hadn't slept in days. I thought--"

"I could have slept on the flight."

"You've never been on time to anything in your entire life. Why start now?"

It's apparently the right thing to say, because Tony deflates a little and shakes his head.

"Yeah, yeah. Rub it in. Not all of us can be as punctual as you, Lt. Col. Rhodes." He says punctual but he makes it sound like tight-assed and Rhodey grins. Thankful to be back in familiar territory.

He runs into the Red Cross team again on his way back to Tony's room to deliver Pepper's care package - a sharply tailored suit that will probably be at least a size too large, a leather bag of toiletries, and a short, handwritten note on a slip of folded paper that Rhodey decides not to read. He's a little surprised to see Mueller and Ross here now, after everything. Ross has the look nearly everyone who talks to Tony for any length of time seems to get - a mix of frustration and amusement. Mueller is as hard to read as ever. But she stops him in the hall with a smile.

"Thank you, colonel."

"You're very welcome, but I'm afraid I haven't done anything," he answers.

Mueller arches one eyebrow. "I doubt that is true. Your General Lefferts has allowed us to interview Mr. Stark at last."

They won't tell him anything, he knows this, but he has to ask. "Did Tony talk to you this time?"

Mueller seems to be considering him closely. He lets her, waiting. "You are his friend, am I correct?"

"I've known him since we were both teenagers," he says. He doesn't mention that he's pretty sure he's Tony's only friend, but something in her face tells him she's figured it out.

"Good. Because Mr. Stark will need a support structure when he returns home, and as I understand it he has no family."

Rhodey's chest tightens. "No," he says. "His parents died years ago."

Mueller nods. "He will most likely try to isolate himself. And he has the money and resources to avoid dealing with what has happened to him for a long time. But at some point he won't have a choice. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he manages. "I think so."

"Someday he will want to talk to someone," Mueller says. "Right now is not that time."

"How can I…" Rhodey swallows. Starts again. "How can I help him?"

"Be his friend, Col. Rhodes," Muller says, and smiles again. "Just be his friend."

Tony's face lights up when Rhodey hands him the package Pepper sent, and out of nowhere Rhodey is hit hard by a memory of taking Tony to the  county fair back at his grandparent's place in North Carolina. Tony had been fifteen and Rhodey had figured he'd be bored to tears, but instead he'd been fascinated. Against all Rhodey's expectations, Tony had marveled over the livestock auctions and gleefully hit the target at the Dunking Booth five times in a row and they played stupid midway games like the one where you shot a water gun that inflated the balloon clenched in a scary-ass clown's mouth.

He'd won himself a cheap mirror emblazoned with a Harley Davidson logo, a giant stuffed Gumby, and a goldfish. He'd spent an hour chatting up the carny who ran the ferris wheel on how the thing was constructed, how it came apart for storage when they moved from town to town. He'd gorged on elephant ears and corn dogs and nearly puked after the tilt-a-whirl. And then that night at the demolition derby Rhodey'd been scared stiff that Tony was going to keel over from an aneurysm, he'd been so excited. He'd tried to convince Rhodey to sneak down onto the field, so they could the watch the destruction up close.

He'd thought for sure he was going to have to explain just how he'd gotten Tony Stark killed. He hadn't realized at the time that it wouldn't be the last.

That was twenty-odd years ago, but the expression is exactly the same. Tony breaks out into a manic grin and runs his fingers over the silk tie as he reads Pepper's note, then sticks the folded paper into his pocket. He makes no mention of the Red Cross team and Rhodey doesn't bring them up either. Instead, when Tony digs out the backgammon board, Rhodey pulls up a chair and lets Tony cheat.

When Rhodey comes for him the next morning he's freshly shaven and dressed in the suit Pepper sent, and at first glance he's fully Tony Stark again, bigger than life. Tony's grinning wide, which helps; and despite the fact that not too long ago he'd threatened to blow them up, the nurses and doctors assembled to see him off are grinning back, which also helps. So much so that Rhodey doesn't notice the little off details at first.  Like the way the dark green dress shirt, smartly pressed as it is, accentuates Tony's lingering pallor, or that he gives in to the wheelchair with what for Tony is a minimum of argument. Which means that he goes back and forth about it for twenty minutes with the medical staff before rolling his eyes dramatically and flopping down into the seat. Then he gives SrA Castillo a hard time all the way to the plane, and that's distracting, too.

Maybe it's a distraction for Tony as well, because once they're alone again and secured in the plane and it lifts off from the runway he goes quiet again. Rhodey takes the opportunity to nap. When he wakes up the first time he catches Tony studying his face, like he's trying to relearn something he's forgotten. The second time he wakes they're over land again and Tony's out cold.

"Pepper's still, you know, on the payroll?" Tony asks later, two hours out from Edwards. It's a weird question, since he'd called her one last time before they left Ramstein, and if she hadn't sent the suit he'd probably be arriving back in the States wearing hospital scrubs or military fatigues.

"As far as I know," Rhodey answers.

Tony hasn't asked much about the three months he was missing. Rhodey's not even sure it's occurred to him yet that life went on without him, even for Pepper.

"So I wasn't declared dead or anything."

Rhodey can't help a smile. "Why, you worried about your estate? Where all those cars would have ended up?"

Tony flashes him a distracted grin. "Why? You already pick one out?"

"Maybe," Rhodey says, but it's hard to keep up the banter with the memory of Tony calmly playing cards with a bomb strapped to his bed still fresh in his mind.

An hour out, Tony gets antsy. He fusses with his tie, with the strap to his sling. He runs his free hand through his hair, he scratches at his goatee. He asks Rhodey questions about nothing, about the plane they're in and who's been in the tabloids and what the weather's been like in California. He doesn't listen to the answers, his attention bouncing around the cabin.

The second time he asks where Pepper is going be meeting them, if she's going to be on the runway or inside somewhere, Rhodey starts to get a little antsy too. Because nearly every one of his waking moments for the past week -- no, the past three months -- has been focused on getting Tony Stark home. And now that they were nearly there, it doesn't feel real.

"She'll be on the runway," Rhodey says. "She said she'll have a car ready." Which means Happy will be there, and if Tony wonders what Happy's been up to for three months without anyone to drive around, he doesn't bring it up.

"I told Obie not to come," Tony tosses out casually, like it doesn't mean anything.

"Yeah? How come?"

But Tony just shrugs. "How'd the stock do while I was gone?"

The stock? Rhodey stares at him for a long moment. "You'll have to ask Pepper about that. I was a little distracted."

Tony grimaces. "Right," he says. "Guess you had a lot on your hands."

"You could say that," Rhodey replies, knowing this will probably be as close as he and Tony will ever come to discussing the ambush or the search.

And as Tony holds his gaze for just a little longer than Rhodey's comfortable with, it strikes him for the first time that maybe it's not that Tony thought the world stopped when he went missing, after all. He remembers hearing POWs talk about how they'd thought everyone had forgotten about them. And suddenly it's not enough, what he's left unsaid.

"When things calmed down and I figured out your body wasn't there, when I realized what that meant... I thought it might have been better if you'd been killed in the ambush."

As if a switch has been thrown, Tony's expression goes blank.  Rhodey doesn't know where he's going with this. All he knows is that the plane is about to land, and Tony's alive, and if he's not quite himself yet, well, there's time, now. They have time.

"When they called off the search, we did everything we could think of. Pepper must have contacted half of Congress. She might as well have rented an apartment in Washington, she spent so much time there. And I..." he falters then.

Tony is fiddling with his sling, tugging his suit jacket over his immobilized shoulder, his head half turned away from Rhodey, his mouth a thin line.

The plane touches down and Rhodey loses his nerve. "I wanted you to know that we tried."

Tony doesn't respond, but when the doors fold down and Rhodey reaches to help him out of the wheelchair, Tony lets him. Hangs on to his hand, all the way down the ramp, until they hit pavement. They're greeted by medics with a stretcher and the bright California sun, but Tony heads for Pepper like there's no one else in the world, and Rhodey watches him go.