Chapter Text
It wasn't that Phil Coulson wasn't good at his job. He most certainly was. One of the best and brightest S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer in terms of agents. He excelled beyond compare in maintaining a veneer of civility and approachability to a general public unused to the government's inner workings while still handling black-ops missions and unnatural occurrences and people with ease. Phil Coulson was not a man swayed by much of anything.
Except Tony Stark.
Tony Stark was very, very good at his job. The best former weapons manufacturer in the country, in fact, with the money to prove it. He was an eccentric, charismatic, temperamental, and fundamentally disturbed playboy. And he had a keen knack for getting on Coulson's last nerve.
This wouldn't be a problem had Fury himself not ordered Coulson on this mission.
"Watch Tony Stark," he had told him, calmly, quietly, like he wasn't condemning Phil to more frustration and stress at the hands of the engineer himself, "and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. I've got plans for him, agent, and I need him to be alive and well for them to come to pass."
Fury knew Stark was Iron Man. He wasn't a fool, and neither was Coulson. It was just a little too convenient, a little too coincidental, that just after Stark's return from Afghanistan, a man utilizing technology that could have only come from Tony Stark himself had cracked down on terrorists. Oh yes. They knew. S.H.I.E.L.D. had a reputation to uphold, after all.
So that was exactly why Coulson was having a glass of wine with his assistant and listening to her talk about Tony.
He actually liked Pepper's company. Once he had settled in, Pepper had immediately become interested in him. He didn't work for the company, per se, but he was always there these days; as he had told her, he was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s liasion. Sure, she wasn't exactly sure what that entailed, but it was, quite frankly, better that way. It meant she was a little more honest with him, thinking him a simple government employee rather than a black-ops secret agent in charge of Fury's new habit of collecting superhumans.
Pepper regarded him honestly and fairly, and so he liked her. He listened to her rant about Tony and offered advice, and so she liked him. So the two met nightly now for dinner and some wine, a bit of relief from the stress of Stark Industries.
"And Obadiah just won't let up these days, Phil, it's a nightmare!" Pepper told him, pouring more into her wine glass than she normally took; Phil raised an eyebrow, concerned. Pepper slugged back half the glass and refilled it, sighing heavily.
"Jesus," she muttered, "I've never fucking liked him. Absolute bastard. One of the leftovers from Howard, and everyone here knows what a fuck he was. Treating Tony that way. The fucking nerve."
Her protective instincts in regards to Tony were actually almost adorable. They would have been more so if Coulson had not been well aware of how easily Pepper could drop a man at least three times her size. Working for Stark Industries sort of made self-defense classes a prerequisite, and he had watched her work.
"I don't know him very well," Coulson said, keeping his tone neutral, "but isn't he effectively running the company while Tony copes with his PTSD?"
"He is," Pepper agreed, sighing heavily, "and none of us like it. Me and Rhodey both know he's after something. Something big. And--" She swallowed, taking another gulp of wine. "I'm scared for him, Phil. Rhodey's trying to protect him, he's been sleeping over Tony's house, watching him in the lab, but Tony's...Tony's Tony, and he wants to go out."
Coulson frowned, taking a sip of his wine. No more than a sip now, though; something was going to go wrong, and very soon. He could feel it. And he didn't like it.
"I told him to stay in his house until we got things sorted out." He said, his voice quiet and calm. Pepper actually laughed at him.
"You thought he would listen?" She shook her head and bit her lip. "I've known him since he just started the company, Phil. And he still won't let me tell him to eat dinner."
"I see." Coulson said. He took another sip of wine. Sure, he needed to be on task and not soused, but dealing with Tony Stark usually required a little eroding of his sobriety. He sighed.
"Pepper, where is Tony right now?" He asked. "And where is Stane?"
"Obadiah's in his office," she told him, "and Tony should still be at home, as far as I know. Rhodey hasn't texted me that he's snuck out."
"All right..." Coulson sighed and massaged his temples. "Pepper? I have a bad feeling about tonight." He told her. "I need you to stay close to Stane. Go offer your assistance; you're Stark's assistant, he might reveal something by trying to get you on his side. Plus, as far as he's concerned, you're his assistant now, since he believes he runs the company. Arrogance makes idiots of very clever men." He stood up.
"I'm going to see Tony," he promised her, "and make sure he stays put. He can't go out. Not tonight."
"Your instinct tells you that, huh?" Pepper said, giving him a look and raising a single eyebrow. Coulson huffed. He wouldn't normally get his hackles up at such a comment, but he did have a bit of pride, and she needed to know she could trust what he was doing, besides.
"Pepper, for the record, my instinct has saved lives before, on the field and off. I protect my men and women with everything I have at my disposal. As of my assignment to the Stark project, Tony Stark and yourself, as far as I'm concerned, are my crew. You do not take unnecessary risks when encountering Stane. I do not let Stark leave his house tonight. And if this instinct is wrong, then all Tony's missed is a night of carousing he can soon make up. If it's right...it might make the difference between Tony's life and death." He dropped his voice, made it gentle and soft. "Please trust me, Pepper. I'm trusting you."
She stood up and threw her arms around him, squeezing tightly.
"Don't you get yourself killed, either," she said thickly, "since as far as I'm concerned, you're my assistant, and I don't appreciate my help getting killed off."
"I am continually impressed that being Stark's assistant is so stressful that you require an assistant of your own." Coulson said, amused. Pepper just smiled.
"It's a living," she told him. "Now, please; go see to Tony. I'll go see what I can do about Obadiah. Tell Rhodey I sent you over; he'll let you into the lab."
"All right," Coulson agreed, "and good luck."
"You too, agent." Pepper said. "And thanks for the plan."
"It's a living." Coulson replied, unable to stop a smile as he left the room beside her, the two of them parting ways at the head of the stairs.
...
Rhodey's face was drawn when Phil knocked on the door. He looked like a man who had just fought his way through a battlefield. Or Tony Stark's lab.
"Pep sent you?" Rhodey asked. Coulson nodded. Rhodey opened the door wider to let him in.
"I take it you've been having a tough time." Coulson said, looking around. Pizza boxes and cartons of Chinese littered the room, all mostly uneaten. Rhodey snarled.
"He won't eat!" Rhodey snapped. "I've bought him everything he likes, tried to get him to eat in the lab, anything to just make him swallow some damn food, but he's blowing me off for this--this--"
"I know about Stane, Rhodey," Coulson told him, "and if I may defend Tony, as frustrating and unwelcome of a task as I may find that action, he is even more frustrated and stressed than normal with the advent of Stane's evident usurping of his company. He won't eat. And trying to make him will only make him snap at you and prevent you from getting anything else done. Let him be on the food for the moment, Colonel."
"...All right," Rhodey muttered after a moment's pause, "but I don't like it, Phil."
"Neither do I," Phil confessed, because he had seen the gauntness of Tony's cheekbones as of late, and the hollow valley his stomach was beginning to form, and he knew it boded ill from experience, "but it's either we fight this minor battle and prevent ourselves from winning the big one, or abandon this battle and win the war, so to speak."
"Fair enough..." Rhodey sighed and shook his head, murmuring, "I take it you need to get down into the lab?" He looked at Coulson. "What do you think you're gonna be doing about it?"
"I'm not going to do much of anything he won't like," Coulson said mildly, "just keep him in the lab or his bedroom for the night. He can't argue with me on that one, can he?"
Rhodey actually laughed at that.
"Probably not, but it's Tony. He'll find a way." Rhodey said, beckoning for Phil to follow him down into the lab. "Though now I'm curious; why tonight? You're not usually so eager to follow him home and keep an eye on him here. That's normally my job."
"Instinct." Coulson said simply. Rhodey raised an eyebrow, but he was a military man. He understood. And so he nodded and bowed his head in acknowledgement, leading Coulson down into the lab and typing in the code to access the lab.
"Anthony, Agent Coulson is here to see you," JARVIS' mechanical voice resounded throughout the lab, "as is Colonel Rhodes."
"JARVIS." Coulson greeted the machine. The two of them had built up a rapport during the times Phil had spent at Tony's house. Both of them had a common interest in Billie Holiday and being frustrated at Tony while still maintaining a veneer of fussy civility. They were a match made in nanny heaven.
"Hello, Philip." JARVIS greeted him with all the warmth a machine could muster, adding, "Are you here to check on Anthony?"
"Yes, I am," Phil said, making his way to Tony's worktable, "I've got a few things to discuss with him."
Tony sat slumped over his worktable, fiddling with a screwdriver and a piece of equipment that Coulson, despite his research into mechanics and technology for his job, didn't recognize. His hair was messy and hung in his face. His cheekbones were gaunt, and his stomach growled as Coulson watched him, the noise reverberating throughout the room. There were bags underneath his eyes, which were dulled with a lack of sleep. His hands shook ever-so-slightly as they fiddled with the machine.
Coulson didn't always get along with Stark. He was bratty and self-centered and oblivious to the world around him, and he brushed off the concerns of the few that cared for him so easily. He wasn't sure how to handle Tony, and Coulson never liked things he couldn't handle.
Regardless, his heart ached for him.
He wondered, briefly, if his instinct hadn't been focused on any external danger, but instead had alerted him to the sheer, overwhelming need for Tony to get a good night's sleep.
However, his instinct that somehow, something tonight was going to go wrong if he didn't watch over Tony hadn't waned yet, so he figured there was something deeper at work...which was he needed to have a talk with him about.
"Stark." He greeted him. Tony grunted, shaking. He didn't meet Phil's eyes, clutching the piece of machinery like a well-worn safety blanket. Phil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He'd had plenty of experience dealing with stubborn men, but at least Clint would listen to him eventually. Tony? Not so much.
"I'm here to tell you..." He faltered for a second, realizing he would need to have a real, concrete reason as to why Tony wasn't allowed out, even if it was a lie. Fortunately, Coulson had become a very good liar in working with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the government. "Pepper sent me here to tell you that you aren't to go out tonight. Not drinking, not partying, not anything. She's...concerned about you, Tony. As is Rhodey. They would prefer if you either remained in your lab for the night or, god willing, went to bed."
It wasn't a perfect lie, but a direct order would ruffle Tony's feathers too fast. Coulson waited to see his reaction. He knew full well that it wouldn't be positive.
"Pepper thinks she can order me around?" Tony snapped. There was a spark in his eyes again, but Coulson didn't like the way it shone. The words had affected him more than he had thought they would...
"It isn't an order, Stark, but if you don't comply, I'll be the one giving you the order." Coulson said, his voice stern. Tony snarled. Coulson just rolled his eyes.
"Stark, for god's sake, you can barely stand up on your own two feet. You really should be in bed. Consider yourself lucky we're not ordering you right up to bed instead of just asking you not to go drinking." He snapped, losing his temper momentarily--an easy thing to do around Tony.
Tony just grinned. Coulson didn't like it. It spoke of ill omens and a very disobedient engineer.
"Oh, really?" Tony cooed. "Do you want me in bed, Phil? Is that it? Well, I'm taken." He huffed and chuckled darkly, fingering the arc reactor in his chest. "Besides, I doubt you could handle this."
"I'm sure I could, I've got a taser." Coulson said coolly. "But that isn't the point, Tony. The point is that I'm asking you to either remain in your lab or in your house. Colonel Rhodes and Ms. Potts are in agreement with me on this." His voice dropped, became low and gentle. He remembered he wasn't speaking to the snotty, bratty engineer he knew; he was talking to a tired, mentally unstable man who was emotionally vulnerable at the best of times, and so he sat beside him, close enough for him to feel safe, but not so close he felt threatened.
"Tony, we're just trying to look out for you," he murmured gently, "and if you worry at all about your friend's feelings, regardless of how you feel about me, you ought to go upstairs, eat some food, and go to bed. They're worried about you."
"No they're not," Tony snapped, his voice slurred with exhaustion and harsh with pain. "They're worried about the company and what I'm gonna do to fuck it up. They don't care about me. They never cared about me."
"Even if that was true, which I assure you it isn't," Coulson said, his voice quiet, "I have no stake in Stark Industries. I'm here solely for you, and you alone. So I suppose you could say I care."
Tony stared at him for a minute, wetting his bruised lips with his tongue as he watched him.
"You're just some prissy government pencil-pusher," Tony told him, "and I doubt you give a shit. You've made that clear."
Tony stood up, wiped engine oil off his hand and onto his jeans, and made his way upstairs, pushing past Coulson.
"I've got somewhere to be," Tony said, climbing the stairs, "far away from people who don't give a shit! I'm gonna go somewhere safe, and you won't be able to find me! So leave me the hell alone!"
Coulson watched him storm upstairs and slam the door behind him. He raised an eyebrow in the silence that rang in his ears afterwards.
Well, that took care of that. Tony could throw his temper tantrum like the whiny little child he was, and as he made his way upstairs, Rhodey would catch him and put him to bed.
He chuckled lightly as he made his own way upstairs, shaking his head. An honest to god temper tantrum. He really must have been exhausted...even Tony had more composure than that, normally.
Coulson opened the door into the main part of the house just in time to hear Rhodey swear, throwing a box of pizza across the kitchen and cursing up a storm.
He shut the door behind him quietly and raised an eyebrow, a headache starting to pound behind his temples. Something had gone wrong again...
"Colonel?" Coulson called, keeping his tone neutral despite the sudden stab of fear his instincts sent lancing through him. "What happened to Tony?"
"He's gone!" Rhodey shouted, his eyes wild and his cheeks flushed. Coulson blinked, stopping in his tracks and staring at the other man.
"Are you sure?" He asked. "I mean, I just saw him pitching a fit not two minutes ago. He was being absolutely ridiculous; he's overtired, I'm sure of it, I thought you put him to bed..."
"I was gonna, but," Rhodey swallowed and shook his head, tears of frustration, exhaustion, and worry springing to his eyes, "but Tony just pushed past me, he had the keys--he took the car, I heard him, he--I don't know where he is, Phil, he's gonna get lost or he's gonna get kidnapped or hurt, and I can't--I already let him get kidnapped once, not again, not again..."
"Ssh, ssh..." Coulson soothed him, sitting Rhodey down on the couch and placing a carton of Chinese by him. "Rhodey, eat something. You need to eat something as much as Tony did."
"Not while he's missing!" Rhodey cried. "Please, I gotta go keep an eye on him! He's my best friend! I'm in charge of him! I--I have to take care of him, please..."
"You've done enough, Colonel," Coulson promised, "and I'm sure once Tony comes to his senses, he'll be grateful. Right now, though, he's lost somewhere in Malibu, disorientated and exhausted. In other words, vulnerable. Which means I need to get a bead on him." He frowned.
He had thought Tony was just joking around, or overreacting; being his usual self, the bratty, eccentric engineer with temper issues. He had honestly thought Tony was going to be safe. And...and now...
Coulson swallowed. He wouldn't show his worry on his face--he didn't want to disturb Rhodey any further, since the other man already seemed panicky. Exacerbating his worries wouldn't help.
"I'm going to call Pepper," he said, "and we'll find Tony. He's going to be just fine. He just left the house for a bit. He won't be in any danger. We'll see to it."
Rhodey nodded, settling in on the couch. He even took a bite of the food once Coulson shot him another look to do so. Phil picked up his phone and began to dial as he left the house, heading out to his car and leaving Rhodey waiting behind at the house, hoping Tony would wisen up and come back of his own accord.
...
Pepper really, really didn't like Obadiah. Ever since she had been hired as Tony's assistant, she had always done her best to stay out of his way. It wasn't that he had ever been particularly cruel to her, or even anything more than polite; there was always just this thin veneer of...something to him that she didn't particularly like. So she did her best to avoid him, trusting her instincts, for the most part.
And yet here she was, sitting in his office, well aware of where his gaze was traveling, listening to him badmouth her Tony.
She didn't like it. Not one goddamned bit. But she had a job to do, and this, unfortunately, was it.
"...Honestly, sometimes I look at him and I just wonder if all that sex has rotted his mind!" Obadiah chuckled warmly, like he wasn't being horrendously cruel to a man who regarded him as his friend. "He's just been acting up so badly lately. I've recommended him therapists, it's obvious he's got PTSD, but he just won't listen. He never has, who am I kidding; he's an idiot! It isn't in his nature to listen to anyone." He sighed and shook his head, looking at her.
"Oh, Virginia, sometimes I just don't understand how you can keep working for him. He never listens to your helpful advice, and he barely remembers to treat you with respect half the time!" Obadiah tsked. "I would never treat my assistants in such a manner. Just a thought you ought to keep in mind."
My name's Pepper, Stane. And maybe you treat your assistants nicely, but that courtesy sure as hell doesn't seem to extend to your friends.
Pepper fumed quietly, trying not to bare her teeth in his office. It would be incredibly strange and implausible if she turned into a snarling wildcat and tore out Obadiah's throat, even if it was completely justified.
"Working for Tony can be taxing, Mr. Stane, but I'm more than aware of my comfortable position, regardless of the stress. Tony is the head of the company, after all." She said quietly.
Obadiah chuckled, low and deep in his throat. It sent shivers up her spine.
"Not for long." He murmured, so soft she barely heard him.
Pepper's knuckles went white as she gripped her phone.
As luck would have it, it was then that her phone chose to ring. Pepper jumped, startled, before answering it quickly, telling him, "Sorry, urgent message about work..."
She held the phone against her ear, hoping to be comforted by Coulson's voice and the promise that he'd gotten Tony to sleep, if only for a little while.
Instead, what he had to tell her left her stomach twisting, her face pale and her heart plummeting to the floor.
"Tony's gone," Coulson said, "and neither Rhodey nor I can find him."
Pepper swallowed, shaking. Beside her, Obadiah stirred, watching the conversation with hungry eyes.
"Is that right?" She said, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible despite the horror in her heart, pounding viciously through her veins. "Well, you know how he is. He's probably out enjoying himself."
"Is there any place you think he might go, Pepper?" Coulson asked. "Please. Rhodey's a nervous wreck. I'm going to go try looking for him."
Pepper frowned. She didn't want to say it. Not within Obadiah's earshot. But she couldn't very well excuse herself without raising more than a few questions.
Pepper swallowed. She had to make her choice. Either she risked Tony's life by leaving Phil without a guide, possibly only finding him after it was too late, or she risked Tony's life by possibly having Obadiah pull something when Tony was vulnerable.
Pepper made her choice. Her knuckles white as she gripped the phone.
"There's a few clubs," she whispered, her voice hoarse and pained, "that he always goes to. I'll give you their addresses."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Obadiah pulling the addresses up online as she read them aloud to Coulson. She was suddenly and overwhelmingly overtaken with the violent urge to tear out his eyes and cut off his hands to stop him.
"Phil?" Pepper whispered as she finished giving him the addresses. "Please find Tony. Please bring him home. He can't..."
"I'll protect him." Coulson promised her, his voice solemn. Pepper nodded, blinking back tears as harshly as she could. Phil sighed. "He's going to be all right, Pepper. Nothing's going to happen to him."
"Thanks, Phil." She whispered. Her hands were shaking as she ended the call and settled back into her seat. As she did so, Obadiah picked up his phone.
"Right, Weils, I need two crates of that Tahitian rum Tony likes and a few of the ladies I have on hand sent to a few addresses..." He gave the addresses to the man on the other end of the line before hanging up and looking up at Pepper. He smiled. His eyes were dead, glazed; shark's eyes.
"There we go, then!" He said cheerfully. Pepper felt ill. "That'll cheer Tony up, I'm sure of it. We'll have him back to his old self in no time. Don't worry about a thing, Ms. Potts." He settled into his chair. "And make me some coffee, would you?"
Pepper left his office without a word, her hands shaking. It was the only thing that betrayed her as she made her way down the hallway, towards Tony's office. It was only once she had locked herself in there for a little while that she let herself sink onto a couch and sob, fear overtaking her in dark, dense waves. She hugged one of his suit jackets he kept lying around in case of a sudden desire to look professional and breathed in his scent, soft spices and the musky, earthy reek of gritty engine oil, letting it soothe her enough to clear her head and grab her phone to call Phil.
She cursed suddenly, violently, and with careless abandon; she couldn't get a signal. Something in the building was blocking her phone...
She settled in for a second, still clutching Tony's jacket like a security blanket. She needed to steel herself before going back to deal with Obadiah. Hopefully, Phil could deal with the new problem arising on his own...