TITLE: Exosphere
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation/Iron Man
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved





Tony had ditched his usual babysitters, namely his chauffeur and regular bodyguard Happy Hogan, as well as his personal assistant Pepper Potts. She was probably busy setting up his schedule for next week, so she wouldn’t mind not seeing him for an hour or two. Hogan he had sent home. He wouldn’t need the Rolls for the rest of the day.

It was only him and nothing else. Well, one Autobot who was silently keeping him company. Tony sat on the silver hood, legs pulled up, eyes on the wild ocean before him. It was a rather adverse weather to be outside. The wind coming in from the sea was strong and tasted of salt and the coming storm. The forecast had warned people in the area, but Tony had so far ignored the warnings. He rather enjoyed the strong winds.

Hot Rod felt warm beneath him, warmer than a car usually should be. They had raced here, Tony going as fast as was still safe, and then some, and they had reached this little corner in record time. He had probably just missed crossing the Canadian border when he had guided the sports car down to this place.

“Tony?” Hot Rod’s quiet voice drew him out of his thoughts.

“Just thinking. It’s okay.”

Silence. Still warm. The wind was colder now, but he didn’t really feel uncomfortable.

Tony leaned back against the windscreen, gazing up into the darkening sky. The moon was already visible, taunting him with its closeness. Still, it was so far away.

One day he would be up there.

One day… very soon!

Just the thought had his pulse race, his adrenaline spike, and something inside of him was close to bursting. It was the feeling he got when he was flying.

Banachek’s call had come in this morning and Tony had felt like a part of him was going to burst from joy. A child-like joy that had transformed into the need to move. He had resisted the temptation to take the armor and fly off. He still wanted to run a few tests and it was rather unstable at the moment with all the changes he had made.

Tony felt himself smile broadly at the memory of the news. It had been like Easter and Christmas together. Not only was Stark Industries the partner of Project and with it an ally of the Autobots: now they – he! -- would go to the Ark, too.

“You’re happy,” Hot Rod stated.

He laughed. “Of course I am!” Stark spread his arms, still laughing like a little kid. “I’m going into space. And I’m going to see a real alien spaceship!”

Hot Rod hummed, sounding amused. “The Ark is not really the pinnacle of Autobot craftsmanship.”

“Roddy, that’s really not important, y’know. I don’t care if she’s your equivalent of a garbage truck! Just seeing it… being there… You have no idea what it means to a simple human!”

“You’re far from simple.”

“I didn’t mean simple-minded.”

“I didn’t say so. Your knowledge and your abilities are unique.”

Tony frowned. “No. Anyone with more than one working braincell and a basic understanding of mechanics could build the armor.”

“Only you did. Under rather primitive conditions.”

Tony shrugged.

“You’re brilliant, Tony.”

“Thanks.” There was no pride in his voice. It sounded rather… muted.

“And you managed to convince Banachek to let you in on it. It’s an achievement, considering his opinion of you.”

That had Stark chuckle. “Let’s say I donate enough money to launch the whole thing off the ground…”

“You sell yourself short.” Hot Rod interrupted, sounding more forceful.

“Hey, I’m not cheap. I sell myself expensive enough. Ask my dates and business partners.”

Another hum. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Autobots can be childish,” Tony stated, sounding intrigued.

“So can genius billionaire superheroes,” Hot Rod countered. “And you’re doing it again.”

“Am not!”

There was a pointed silence and Tony chuckled.

“Whenever we come to your personal achievements, you sell yourself short,” Hot Rod repeated. “You keep insisting you’re nothing special. You are.”

Tony scowled. “Are you trying to put me on a pedestal for a specific reason?”

“I’m not trying to do anything. I’m stating facts.”

Stark slid off the hood and felt the wind bite into his clothes. The warmth from the car had vanished. Dark eyes had narrowed and were now looking at the R8.

“Keep your statements to yourself, okay?”

“As you wish.”

He walked closer to the sea, gazing at the foaming waves. Right now the craving for something alcoholic was almost overpowering. He had drunk a lot less, almost nothing, since Afghanistan. The cold turkey he had pulled had really helped him come off that vice. He had started to become a coffee-holic instead. A man needed at least one serious addiction.

Tony smiled darkly. Women were out of the question and the arc reactor had dampened his approach on the fairer sex, not to mention any kind of sex. Money could buy you love, of course, it could also buy you a woman or a man for a night. Enough money would shut that person up about Tony’s freaky chest implant. Still, casual sex was not high on Tony’s wish list. Something inside him balked at letting anyone but his closest friends see him like this – scarred, changed… So his right hand it was.

Stark had poured all his energy into his work now. He had turned his company around, had weeded out those loyal to Obadiah and who had seen him as a thorn and obstacle in their way. He had investigated a lot of time into digging into his own board of directors’ background and more heads had rolled. By now the people on the board were those he trusted.

Banachek had suggested someone, too. Someone associated with Project and the Autobots. Tony was still not sure he wanted anyone that close on his board, but Stark Industries was leaning so heavily toward the Autobots, was already so entwined with them and the Cybertron technology, it was only a matter of time anyway. Or a formality, depending on his point of view.

Tony’s eyes were drawn to the darkening sky.

Soon.

He turned abruptly and walked back to the car, got in and drove away. Their ride back was more tame, with less hair-raising maneuver around tight bends.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He had modified the armor. He always modified the armor, but this time it had been about something very specific.

“Control, this is Ghostbuster.”

“Ghostbuster, this is Control.”

“We’ve reached deployment height.”

The thrusters had been completely redesigned. The stabilizers were now minutely attuned to his muscle twitches. Jarvis had implemented several of Tony’s new programs that allowed Stark to maneuver almost by thought alone.

“Roger that, Ghostbuster. How’s your cargo?”

He grimaced.

“The cargo can hear you,” Tony said, unable to stop himself.

There was a chuckle from the pilot of the plane dubbed ‘Ghostbuster’. It had been the very plane that had launched the Ghost-2 high enough for the hybrid space ship to fly into space. The pilot was no other than Michael Bowman, the Nellis Airforce base liaison to the Autobot base. He hadn’t flown the first mission, but he had trained on the Ghostbuster and he had volunteered for Tony’s test runs.

“Cargo is alive and kicking, Control,” Bowman now said. “Deployment in five minutes.”

Tony ran another system check. The seals were working. The armor showed no stress in any place. He had gone over every square inch of his suit to make sure nothing could go wrong. Oxygen was fine. He would be able to spend hours in space, with no outside oxygen.

“Jarvis? Last check.”

“Very well,” the AI replied.

Tony flexed his fingers. The HUD was flashing data at him, but he ignored most of it. Nothing was important so far.

“Control, we’ve reached deployment point. Iron Man, ready for departure in twenty.”

Tony felt his nerves quiver. He had never done this before. Sure, he had launched himself off the ground and crashed spectacularly when the reactor had depleted itself, but he had never gone this high.

“Ten seconds,” Bowman’s voice could be heard.

“All systems check, sir,” Jarvis announced.

“Good,” Tony murmured.

8…

Premiere time!

7…

The launch doors opened.

6…

Tony felt his stomach clench with anticipation.

5…

Below him, there was nothing. Just clouds.

4…

The winds whipped around him. He was the only one in the cargo hold.

3…

“Good luck,” Bowman called.

2…

“I’ll need it.”

1…

Tony let himself drop out of the cargo plane.

0

Go!

The boot thrusters ignited and he launched himself away from the plane. New data flashed over the HUD, telling him speed, outside temperature, status of the armor, oxygen supply and the reactor depletion.

Looking good.

Above him there was the darkness of space. He was tearing through the stratosphere, heading higher than ever before. With the fuel intense first one hundred thousand feet already below him, he didn’t have to think overly much about his reactor. The thinner atmosphere aided him now.

Tony called up armor status and found that while it was icy cold outside, everything was running smoothly, and the radiation shield was holding.

“Power level at eighty percent,” Jarvis told him calmly.

Tony grinned.

And then he broke the final barrier. He reduced thrust, exhaling sharply, and started to whoop.

“YES!”

Below him, Earth glowed a gentle white and blue, interspersed with brown and green. He could see Australia from here. Laughter bubbled up inside him. Like a little kid. Like having Easter and Christmas and his birthday and all the other special days all in one and then some squared. Endorphins competed with adrenaline and Tony felt a singular moment of total happiness.

“We made it, Jarvis!”

Nothing had ever felt so…so… incredible than this. Not when he had constructed his first engine. Not when Dummy had come to life. Not when Jarvis had turned out to be so much more than mere programming.

“You clearly did, sir,” came the AI’s calm response. “Whoopee.”

Tony laughed at the dry delivery, too giddy to care. Data was still flashing over the HUD, but he kept on ignoring it. Jarvis was taking care of that side of the experiment.

Tony simply… enjoyed.

He spread his arms, still laughing, and twirled lazily around his own axis.

“God, we made it! It worked! It really finally worked!”

“Power level holding at seventy-five percent.”

“We goddamn fucking made it!”

And it was beautiful. Looking at what lay below him as he defied gravity and drifted almost lazily in orbit around his own planet had Tony breathless. He had seen images of Earth from space, but seeing it and looking at it in person were totally different emotional rides.

“This is amazing,” he whispered. “So damn amazing!”

This is what the astronauts saw. This is what the Autobots had probably glimpsed when entering Earth’s atmosphere. This is what he wanted to protect from Decepticon invasion.

He wished he could share this. With Rhodey and Pepper. Jarvis was here with him, watching the same images, but human emotions made this so much more… intense.

Tony drew his gaze reluctantly away from his world and scanned for the Moon. Still far away; unreachable, even in his suit. He would have to go with the Ghost-2, he knew that now, but he had proven he could handle space in his armor.

“Sir?”

Jarvis’ slightly more insistent tone drew his attention back to matters at hand.

“Yes?”

“Captain Bowman is trying to reach you.”

He had tuned him out completely. That was why Jarvis sounded slightly annoyed. Stark smiled a little and activated his com line.

“Mike, what can I do for you?” he asked jovially.

“I was about to ask the same. According to your computer system you’re doing just fine. Control’s wondering when you’re planning to come back.”

Tony chuckled. “Pushy.”

Bowman echoed the chuckle. “You know us military guys.”

“Only too well.” Tony looked at the breathtaking sight before him. “You ever seen this before, Mike?” he asked, voice quiet.

“No. Never. I’ve been told it’s amazing.”

“It is.” Tony tore himself out of his wonder. “Atmospheric re-entry,” he said, voice firm and no-nonsense.

“Ghostbuster ready for rendezvous.”

“I’ll bring the flowers, you bring the wine,” Tony laughed.

Bowman chuckled. “Your table’s been reserved, sir.”

Tony took one last look, then angled the armor to reenter the atmosphere. He had to be careful since the construction wasn’t laid out for steep entries. The friction heat alone could boil him if the shields failed. They were still experimental and needed a lot more work. Tony’s mind flashed through the schematics, compared the data he was receiving to the specs, and chose a less steep angle.

“Power level at forty percent,” Jarvis told him.

Figures. The reactor needs to compensate for the draw the shields have.

“Ghostbuster thirty thousand feet below us,” the AI added. “Adjusting course for rendezvous.”

Tony kept calculating time and stress and pressure and friction, formulas running through his head, and he used the repulsors to slow down further.

“External temperature exceeding safe levels,” Jarvis informed him. “Sir, we’re coming in too hot.”

Tony gnashed a curse and changed course yet again, flashing through possible touch down sites close or in water. He couldn’t touch the Ghostbuster as hot as he was. He could burn a hole right through the hull.

“Ghostbuster, change of plans,” he contacted Bowman. “I need a cold shower. Jarvis give Captain Bowman our kindest regards and the coordinates of our landing point.”

Which was somewhere cold and remote and hopefully accessible for a plane.

“Very well, sir. Power level dropping to twenty-one percent.”

Tony gritted his teeth and prepared himself for a very rough landing. Not his first. Never going to be his last.

It was a spectacular crash that had him see stars and probably black out for a second or two. When he came to he was surrounded by fog, his suit was pinging softly as hot metal cooled down, and every bone in his body ached.

“Status,” he croaked.

The HUD flickered, died, then came back online. Part of the information stream was missing, but the part he saw wasn’t very impressive. He had multiple system failures and his suit’s integrity had been compromised.

Note to self: atmospheric reentry needs more testing.

Crashing down glowing hot hadn’t really done the suit’s shields a favor. That had to be changed.

“You have touched down near the eastern shore of Devon Island,” Jarvis informed him.

“Huh?”

“Canada.”

“Oh.”

“Captain Bowman informed me that he can’t land here, but help has been deployed.

“Cool,” Tony murmured. Even his teeth hurt.

“You might want to know that I’m detecting no internal injuries or broken bones,” the AI went on.

“Uh-huh.” He felt broken, though.

It also felt like an eternity until Tony finally moved and peeled himself out of the deep groove he had carved into the ground. The snow had melted under his impact and then refrozen, so he was shattering ice with every move. He stumbled over to a handy boulder and leaned against it with a groan.

“Anyone around, Jarvis?”

“Devon Island is the largest uninhabited island on Earth.”

“That’s a no, then.”

“Unless you count musk oxen and assorted small birds and mammals, yes, sir.”

“No chance of coffee then,” Tony sighed.

“I doubt it.”

“My day just got worse.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It took the helicopter four more hours to arrive. At that time Tony had managed to get the armor’s systems functioning as best as possible.

An hour after that he was at the Artic Base, removing his banged up, scorched looking armor under the watchful eye of the very medic who had treated him just a few months earlier when Tony had been taken down by Sam Witwicky, Dr. Tim Hutton. This time Stark didn’t hide the arc reactor, and Hutton just raised his brows, but he didn’t comment. Apparently looking at a miniature reactor sitting in the middle of a human chest, connected to the heart and keeping the man it was inserted in from certain death, was nothing revolutionary for the man. Tony was impressed and curious what else Hutton had seen that let him ignore something so amazing.

Giant alien robots counted, sure. A man displaying living runes all over his body. A technopath. All things Tony found amazing, too. Still, neither Sam nor Will had implants in their bodies. Tony had. It might even be crude compared to what was possible, but it was his own creation.
Tony felt black and blue and ached all over, and he looked like he felt, too. He was given a prescription for painkillers and a frown when he declined. Pain killers made him drowsy and he couldn’t afford drowsy right now. Not until he was somewhere he felt safe. While Project wasn’t the enemy, he wouldn’t let any of the scientists or soldiers alone in the same room with his armor. Last time he hadn’t had a choice. Last time there had been Sam and Will, too. He trusted them to a much larger extent than most people.

“Try not to crash in the next few days,” Hutton remarked wryly as he let him leave his treatment room.

“Will do, doc.”

It got him a frown.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

His lift back to civilization came not much later in form of the Ghostbuster and he smiled a little as Bowman stepped off the plane, smirking at Stark, who was already back in his Iron Man suit, helmet under one arm. While the suit looked bad, it was operational, though Tony wouldn’t try and fly right now.

“Spectacular landing,” the captain remarked.

“I aim to please.”

“I figured. Ready to leave?”

“More than ready.”

Banachek hadn’t been at the base, much to Tony’s relief. The last thing he needed was the Look and the Speech. He always felt like a little boy when it came to Banachek. Just like it had been with Obadiah.

Sure, Banachek would probably call him or leave a scathing message when he heard about the incident. He probably already had heard about it.

Settling down in the cargo hold once more, Tony listened to the engines as the Ghostbuster took off. He found a dozen things wrong with the pitch, the acceleration, the take-off and the way the plane stabilized after reaching flight level. He tried to shut off his brain, his body already complaining about exhaustion and reporting all the aches in every little detail, but it was impossible. He was an engineer; he designed engines; he knew what was wrong.

There was a lot.

“Jarvis?” he asked tiredly.

“Yes, sir?”

“Make a note. Need to call Tom about the engine of the Ghostbuster. Probably a design error. Or the whole plane is.”

“Annoying your business partners again, sir?”

He smiled tiredly. “Only way I got my reputation.”

“Which one would that be, sir?”

“Pick one. Always right on target.”

The plane banked to the left and Tony sighed as new errors made themselves known to him. He really had to talk to Banachek. This was the plane that would take the Ghost-2 into space again, with him aboard this time. He wouldn’t let the plane take off in the shape it was currently in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hot Rod was at the Autobot base and Tony smiled involuntarily at his self-appointed guardian. He rarely got to see Hot Rod in robot mode and it was like looking at a stranger. The Audi was familiar, as was the voice, but the bipedal shape took getting used to.

“I see you scrapped the armor,” Hot Rod remarked, amusement swinging heavily in his voice.

“I see you can’t keep your observations to yourself,” Tony replied.

Hot Rod smiled, the blue optics flashing with laughter. “Pepper has been calling every thirty minutes. She demands to know if you’re still in one piece… so she can tear you a new one. Her words, not mine.”

Tony sighed. He had taken the HUD down while he was on the flight back here and he had tinkered with a few systems to pass the time. Jarvis had been told to ignore all incoming calls and unless Bowman switched someone through, he would be left alone.

Not any more.

Pepper would probably rip his head off first, before assaulting other body parts.

“Any way I can convince you to lie to her about my arrival?”

Hot Rod smiled more. “You owe me already, Tony. I keep lying through my teeth, as you would say.”

“You have no teeth.”

“Human figure of speech.”

“I know that, Roddy!”

Someone else was approaching and Tony flashed a smile at Jazz.

“Hey, Jazz. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Non-existent hair,” Hot Rod supplied, laughing.

“Oh, shut up.”

Jazz grinned. “I just received a call from Banachek, who has in turn been called by your personal assistant, Tony.”

“Good gawd, the woman is terrible!” he exclaimed.

“People around you have to adjust to you,” Hot Rod commented.

“Why don’t you go play?” Stark ground out, glaring at his guardian.

“Pepper said to put you on the first ride back home, whatever your condition.”

“I could have internal injuries!”

“You don’t. She knows. She got the full report from Captain Bowman and from our sensors,” the Autobots’ second-in-command said mercilessly, visibly enjoying himself too much. “You’re in trouble, Tony.”

“He always is,” Hot Rod added.

“I’m applying for a new baby-sitter! Someone who has respect for the guy he’s supposed to sit” Stark snarled.

“I doubt you’d find volunteers, though Barricade expressed he wouldn’t mind kicking your ass,” Jazz supplied.

It got him a dark look, then Tony transferred the glare to Hot Rod. “How about you transform so we can go home?”

“And the special word is?”

“Now!”

Hot Rod shrugged as he looked at Jazz. “He’s in pain.”

“He is a pain,” was the reply from the equally silver mech.

Various armor parts were stowed inside the front trunk space and the Audi itself, then Tony slid into the driver’s seat, trying not to wince.

“Let me?” Hot Rod offered, voice softer, more worried now.

Stark stared at the dash, fighting with himself. Then he surrendered with a nod. Hot Rod took control and drove out of the hangar, heading for the highway.

XXXX   XXXXX   XXXXX  

“Tony?”

He grunted.

“I respect you.”

Another grunt. Tony was clutching the steering wheel, staring straight ahead.

“And the test went really well.”

“I crashed,” he said tonelessly.

“You refused to endanger the Ghostbuster.”

Tony glared at the dash. “You think?”

“I know. You came in hot. Literally. It might have destroyed the whole plane.”

Instead he had left a long, deep groove in the ground at Devon Island and almost scrapped the armor.

“You did good, Tony.”

Yeah, in a way he had.

“And you’re just moody because of the safety crash.”

Stark frowned at the dash. “Safety crash?” he echoed. “And I’m not moody!”

“Are.”

“Are not!”

“Are too.”

Tony started laughing. Like little kids. But Hot Rod was right. It had worked. He had been in space.

He – had – been – in – space!

Tony felt a wild grin blossom on his features. “And what a ride it was,” he chuckled.

He just needed to find a way not to make emergency landings in the middle of the Arctic again. Slower re-entry. Different angle. His mind whirled with the possibilities. While Tony knew that his flight to the Ark would be aboard the Ghost-2, the possibility that he had to leave the ship and take the hard way down was there.

This needed more thinking.

He glanced at the helmet resting on top of assorted armor parts on the passenger seat. A slow smile spread over his features.

He was good when it came to thinking. He would tackle this problem and he would solve it.