The Stark Tower workshop smelled faintly of metal and ozone. Screens flickered to life as Tony adjusted the final layer of plating on a half-finished gauntlet. His eyes were bloodshot he hadn't really slept but the hum of the tools and the glow of holograms kept his mind steady.
Friday's voice broke through the quiet.
"Boss, Ned Leeds has arrived. He looks exhausted."
Tony glanced at the clock. "Of course he does. Send him in."
The elevator chimed softly, and Ned Leeds stepped out. He was still in the clothes from last night's op rumpled hoodie, jeans, and sneakers with a layer of dust on them. His eyes were ringed with fatigue, but they burned with something stronger: pride.
"Morning, Mr. Stark," Ned said, trying to stand a little straighter.
Tony smirked. "Morning, Chair Guy. You look like death warmed over."
"Mission accomplished," Ned replied, a nervous grin tugging at his lips.
Tony gestured to the stool across from him. "Sit. Tell me everything."
Ned sank onto the seat and started talking. He told Tony how Team Red Daredevil, Deadpool, and himself had infiltrated the Raft's off-books sections. How they avoided detection, extracted the data, and confronted Ross. Daredevil's senses had been crucial, and Deadpool's chaos had been both a blessing and a nightmare.
When he finished, he slid a small encrypted drive across the workbench.
"This has everything," Ned said, voice low. "Evidence of Ross's programs, the experiments, the hidden files. You were right he was dirtier than anyone thought."
Tony picked up the drive, twirling it between his fingers. His expression was unreadable. "You realize hacking government networks and running black ops isn't exactly a high school science fair, right?"
Ned swallowed hard. "I know. But I wanted to prove I could do this. I wanted to help."
For a moment, Tony just looked at him. Then, with a rare softness in his voice, he said, "You did more than help. You ran the op, Leeds. And you brought my nightmare on a silver platter. That's no small thing."
Ned's chest swelled with pride, but before he could respond, Tony added with a smirk, "Don't make a habit of it. One black op per semester."
The tension broke as Ned laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
Tony's phone buzzed. He checked the screen: Peter Parker.
"Kid," Tony answered.
"Mr. Stark! Hey, uh..... Deadpool says he's not leaving. Like, ever. He says the tower has good snacks and free Wi-Fi, and he already picked a guest room. Can he, um, stay for a while?"
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course he did. And of course you're asking me instead of telling him to get lost."
Peter hesitated on the line. "Uh, also why is Ned not in school? MJ said attendance flagged him."
Tony glanced at Ned, who mouthed busted. "He's fine, Parker. He's with me. Special project. Let's just say he's doing more for the world than your AP chem teacher right now."
Peter's voice was skeptical. "You didn't recruit him into something dangerous, right?"
Ned called out from across the lab, "Peter, it was awesome! Don't worry, I'm fine!"
Tony smirked. "See? Still breathing. Relax, Spiderling."
Peter groaned softly but let it go. "Okay, but you better make sure he gets back to class tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah," Tony said. "Now, about your squatter problem"
The Deadpool conversation followed, ending with Tony's reluctant, "Fine, but if he starts building chimichanga forts or hitting on the bots, he's out."
Peter laughed, relieved. "Thanks, Mr. Stark. You're the best."
Tony hung up, shaking his head. "Great. Now I have a mercenary roommate. Fantastic."
He looked back at Ned. "Get some sleep, kid. You earned it. And when you wake up, we'll go over your op in detail. You might just be more dangerous than you look."
Ned grinned, exhaustion finally catching up with him. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."
As the elevator closed behind him, Tony leaned back in his chair, drive in hand. His eyes hardened. Ross had made his move. Now it was Tony's turn.
The Avenger's Compound
The Compound's Garden walkway was empty now. The fountain still whispered with the gentle trickle of water, but its sound only deepened the silence. Vision stood there alone, where Wanda had touched his chest the day before.
The world around him felt dimmer.
He replayed their conversation over and over.
"You always were the best of us."
"Then why does this hurt so much?"
The hurt didn't fade. If anything, it grew, spiraling through his neural pathways like an echo that wouldn't stop. Vision had faced combat, felt the crushing weight of battle but this? This was something he couldn't quantify. It wasn't a malfunction or damage. It was loss.
And for the first time, he didn't know how to fix it.
Later – Vision's Quarters
He sat perfectly still in the center of the room, hands resting on his knees, eyes unfocused. Inside, his thoughts raced with calculations, emotional diagnostics, failed attempts at rationalizing what he felt. The Mind Stone pulsed faintly, resonating with an ache he didn't understand.
Friday's voice broke the silence.
"Vision, your vitals are unusual. Elevated stress markers, irregular neural activity."
"I am functioning," he said softly, though he didn't sound convinced.
"Functioning isn't living," Friday replied, almost gently.
"You're hurting. That's okay. But maybe you shouldn't process this alone. Sir's at the Tower. You trust him."
Vision turned his gaze toward the faint glow of the sky outside the window. Friday was right he did trust Tony Stark.
He didn't understand why the thought of speaking to him felt like reaching for a lifeline, but he didn't question it. He simply whispered, "Open a channel to the Tower. Request permission to visit."
Moments Later – Stark Tower
A golden ripple of energy shimmered in the Tower's secure landing bay as Vision phased through the entrance. Friday's voice greeted him warmly.
"Welcome, Vision. Boss is in the workshop. He's well, being Boss."
Vision allowed himself a small, almost human smile at that. "Thank you, Friday."
As he moved silently toward the workshop, he realized this was the first time he had sought help not as an Avenger, not as a weapon, but as someone in pain.
And deep down, Vision hoped Tony would understand.
The Stark Tower workshop glowed with the faint blue of holograms. Tools were scattered across the workbench, suit schematics hung midair, and Tony Stark was hunched over a nano-assembly, welding a seam with unsteady precision. The man looked like he hadn't slept, but his hands moved with relentless focus.
The doors opened without a sound. Vision stepped in quietly.
Tony didn't look up. "Either you're a ghost, or you're Vision. If you're a ghost, tell me now so I can get the EMF detectors."
Vision tilted his head. "You use detectors for ghosts?"
Tony smirked faintly, still working. "Nah. Just checking if you'd answer. What's up, Vis? You don't exactly drop by for small talk."
Vision hesitated before speaking, his voice low. "I do not know how to categorize what I feel."
That got Tony to stop. He set the tool down and finally turned to face him. "Okay, you're gonna have to give me a bit more than 'I feel weird.'"
Vision stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back like he was trying to hold himself together. "It's pain. But not physical. Wanda and I .....she's gone. And there is this ache. An emptiness I can't repair."
For a moment, Tony just looked at him really looked. Then he exhaled slowly. "Heartbreak. You're talking about heartbreak, big guy."
Vision's voice was almost a whisper. "It hurts. More than any damage I've sustained in battle. Why does it hurt like this?"
Tony motioned for him to sit. Vision obeyed, perching on the edge of a stool like he was afraid to break it. Tony poured two fingers of whiskey for himself, then paused, set the glass aside, and leaned forward.
"Because," Tony said softly, "you cared. You loved her. And when you love someone, losing them rips a hole through you that tech can't patch, and armor can't block. It's the human condition. Congratulations, you're officially one of us."
Vision looked down, his usually serene expression trembling. "I don't know if I can bear it."
Tony's voice dropped to a gentler tone. "You can. You will. Trust me, I've been there more times than I'd like to admit. And it doesn't go away. But you learn to live with it. Sometimes it even makes you stronger."
Vision's gaze lifted slightly. "Stronger?"
"Yeah," Tony said with a small smile. "Because pain means you've got something worth fighting for. And you" he reached out, tapping Vision's shoulder, "you're not just some program with a fancy stone. You're one of my kids."
Vision blinked, startled. "Your child?"
Tony leaned back, smirking now. "Yep. Officially. You're the weird science baby of me and Thor. He zapped you to life with his Asgardian lightning, and I built your crib. Makes me the mom, I guess."
Vision tilted his head, genuinely puzzled. "I do not believe biology works that way."
Tony chuckled. "It does in superhero logic, Sparky. Deal with it."
For the first time that day, Vision almost laughed. The ache didn't fade, but it softened.
Tony's tone gentled again. "Look, jokes aside you're family. I don't care how you came to be you're mine. And I love you, Vis. That doesn't change."
For a long moment, Vision didn't speak. Then, quietly: "I did not know how much I needed to hear that."
Tony smirked and patted his arm. "That's what dads are for. Now, here's the deal: heartbreak sucks. But you're not alone in it. Not while I'm around."
The faintest smile touched Vision's lips. The ache was still there, but it didn't feel so unbearable anymore