Take Off The Suit And What Are You?

Smile for the Cameras

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark climbed up the steps to stand next to the podium, his brightest, most fake, smile plastered on his face—just another mask to wear over the others as he danced to the ridiculous tune that the finicky public wanted to hear. Internally, he was exhausted and numb to the attention that had been hoisted upon him since birth.

Below him stood reporters, news crews, and the requisite crowd of screaming fans and jeering critics. Below him were the general masses, everyone here to see the famous Iron Man and hear about his latest spectacular accomplishments as a superhero and critique him despite the fact that not one of them could have or would have come out to help in the fight. That was unfair though. Tony knew that a good chunk of his resentment was a byproduct of his feelings for the Avengers.

Cameras flashed brightly, blinding him, while voices rose in a clamor for attention, questions asked and comments thrown, the sound nearly deafening him.

God, he hated this. All the people in the crowd, pushing, shoving and shouting at him with praises and questions. No matter how much time went by, no matter how good he was at dealing with this type of thing, he never truly got used to it enough to like it. After the Battle of New York, Tony had mistakenly assumed the Avengers would remain a team and he would no longer be alone against the masses.

He was wrong.

You would think that when people, actual human beings, start exploding then SHIELD would look into it. Nope. You would think that when he gave his real address to a terrorist on live TV he would at least get a phone call. Nope. And if that wasn't enough, his house gets blown up on live TV with him inside, the world assumes he is dead, and there is still not a single point of contact. Through it all, SHIELD and the Avengers remained silent. Screw them.
Tony had since accepted the fact that the Avengers would never function as a true team and this was fine. The world didn't need a super-powered team (at the moment). However, he had gone through the wormhole and Tony knew that, one day, the world would need more than just one man and maybe even more than one team as its protector. But Tony also knew that there had to be more than just the members of the Avengers that made up the people of the world that would and could fight if need be. Tony would just have to find them.
If you want something done right, then do it yourself.

Until the new team was built though (he really needed to think of a name), Tony was stuck pandering to public opinion. If you kept the people happy as well as impressed senators and other politicians, then you could sway votes in your favor and that was something Tony knew he would have to do in the future.
He was so tired though. Tired of cleaning up other people's messes when they refused to admit they had done anything wrong. The whole hero thing was really not as bright and shiny as in the movies.

Tony was brought out of his thoughts by a rousing cheer from the crowd below. Tony noticed everyone was looking at him with anticipation and realized that all the other speeches and introductions had finished while he was deep in thought. Oh well, it was highly likely no one noticed.

Tony drew some cue cards out of his pocket as he stepped up to the podium. He read from what he had scribbled down for this event in a coffee fueled haze some days before, glancing around every now and then to gauge peoples reactions. Tony wasn't quite sure what this ceremony was for at the moment but his speech didn't seem half bad. After his conclusion, the crowd went wild.

Tony paused a moment, inhaling deeply and attempting to exhale all the tension this event had accumulated, before turning to leave. With one last wave to the crowd, a large grin twisting his lips, Tony shook some big-shot politicians' hands before hurrying off the stage.

As the suit enfolded him, Tony contemplated public opinion and how he could affect and alter the concepts of bills that he could already see being tangible. Rules and regulations for superheroes is a great idea, as long as it doesn't become discriminatory. To prevent that, Tony would put himself on the front lines.

The suit took off, Iron Man shooting up into the sky. Perfectly executed tests and turns were done both for the crowd and for fun. It had been a while since Tony had flown just for the pure joy of it.

The world had changed a lot in the past year.
People had their eyes opened to just how much danger there is in the world, in the universe. People saw live and first hand just how devastating those dangers can be. People saw heroes saving the world, their world.

And then those same normal people were left with lost businesses, jobs, homes, and lives. Who is to blame when the Hulk kills a Leviathan by crashing it into a sky-scraper and then it crashes onto the street? Who is to blame when Thor kills Chitauri with lighting but it also overloads the power grid?

Thor and the Hulk and the rest of the Avengers walked away after the battle but Tony stayed. Tony stayed because there was work to be done and the battle wasn't over yet just because all the aliens were dead and gone (for now). Tony fought for people—the people he loved, the people of New York, and the people of planet Earth. The battle wasn't over until everyone was safe and their lives were stable.

Cutting the repulsors, Tony went into freefall, only blasting back up when he was just above the water. Skimming waves and chasing the golden glitter of the setting sun, Tony was relaxed for the first time in a long while. It was only Jarvis' ping that let him know that someone important was at the tower who wished to speak with him.

Tony really hoped it wasn't anyone from SHIELD. Especially Coulson. He had known the man for years yet, even after the Battle of New York was over, they still let everyone believe Agent Coulson was dead. It was only due to his regular hacking of SHIELD that Tony knew. He didn't think venting his anger and resentment at a SHIELD agent would be the smartest option so avoidance would have to do for now.

Iron Man's boots hit the platform solidly and, rims spinning, the suit was disassembled and was stored as Tony walked forward. As he walked, the specs for the nanotech suit he was fabricating flitted through his mind, each new idea brushing gently past yet still leaving an impression. It would make the whole platform disassembly process obsolete but that was fine. It still worked as a balcony and he'd need it for the older suits.

Tony Stark strode casually through the glass doors before stopping dead in his tracks.
There was a person slouching on a stool by the bar.

Sitting on a stool by the bar was a man whose face was hidden by shadows.

The shadowy figure at the bar had willowy fingers and ghostly pale skin that was pallid even in the golden glow of the setting sun. A bottle of scotch sat unopened in front of him.

"I believe you owe me a drink."