TONY HAD TO WONDER IF LOOKING FOWARD TO THERAPY SESSIONS WAS NORMAL, OR A DESPERATE CRY FOR HELP. Either way, he couldn't help but feel a surge or either excitement or apprehension as he and Happy drove into Brooklyn, nearing the familiar building where he regularly frequented.

"Should I wait or come back, what's the plan here?" Happy asked as they both stepped out of the car, holding up traffic.

"I'll text you," Tony said, adjusting his jacket as he stepped onto the sidewalk, moving to let the man take the wheel.

After first appearing with a suit and earning a raucous round of laughter from the man he had come to meet, Tony decided that, of all the things, the media shouldn't be caring about what he wore when coming to Brooklyn, opting to wear more comfortable clothes; they made him feel young.

Walking into the building, he glanced down the hallway, deciding to just go and knock, seeing as the waiting area was empty and he was normally scheduled on the days when Nicky had few patients.

He made his way down the hall, hand tracing the wallpaper idly, reaching out and knocking on the door.

When he heard a muffled sound of an invite, he opened the door with a flourish, letting it fall closed behind him.

"Nicholas, you'll never believe what just happened."

Nicky Green, a psychologist nearly two decades younger than himself, looked up from his files, an eyebrow raised.

"How old are you again?" he scoffed, motioning for him to sit, "Aren't you the oldest out of all the Avengers?"

"I try not to think about it," Tony replied, flopping down onto the couch across from the man's chair, waiting for him to move from his desk.

"What are you working on?" he asked, as he always did before their sessions started.

"Nothing major, everything's at a bit of a lull. I have to thank you for keeping me fed," the young man said, smiling widely. It was as if his jaw was made for smiling, his entire body radiating a childlike joy that Tony hoped would never fade.

"But anyways," Nicky said, waving his hand, "What just happened?"

Tony shook his head. "Nothing, I just wanted to say that."

The young man quirked an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

The older man mimicked his movement, shrugging defensively. "Why do you need to know, I just wanted to say it, I didn't think there'd have to be a whole reason for it."

Nicky seemed to brighten as he stood up, motioning towards a black board that seemed to be made out of some type of glass, picking up a neon marker, shaking it before popping the cap, starting to write.

"You see," he began, making sure that Tony was paying attention, "You always have a thought before doing anything. It's the thought that causes you to act a certain way. The behavior. There's also feelings and emotions thrown in there, but that's besides the point, we'll reach that another time. Point is," he tapped the glass emphasizing his point, "Your mind is constantly thinking, you just don't notice because the thoughts are almost like an impulse. Here, look."

He threw the pen he was holding, Tony immediately catching it in his hand. He raised an eyebrow, handing it back. "I didn't realize we were going to be playing catch. Are you trying to appeal to my deep seated daddy issues?"

Nicky couldn't help but laugh, fiddling with the pen. "We will, now that you brought it up. But first, here we go. Why did you catch the pen?"

Tony scoffed softly. "Because you threw it."

"Yeah, but why did you catch it instead of hitting it away. And you didn't get mad at me, in fact, you made a joke out of it. We can insert the emotion into here, as you had a thought that caused you to make a joke and act a certain way, the action being your behavior." He was waving his hands, switching the pen back and forth.

Tony frowned, processing the information. "I'm just used to catching things, I don't want it to fall, things falling usually aren't good things."

Bodies falling aren't always the best.

He shook away the thought, continuing, "I don't know why I acted that way, if that's what you're asking."

"That's okay," Nicky reassured, moving to sit back down, setting the pen back in the cup, "That's what we'll work on. Tell me what's on your mind, I just wanted to point this out."

Tony shrugged, adjusting his position in his seat, tugging at his jacket in the cold room. "Is it as pathetic as I think it is that I enjoy coming here?"

He hadn't been planning on ever mentioning it, but it was what was on his mind, everything else being things Nicky wouldn't want to talk about.

Nicky gave him a small smile, so comforting and warm that he had to look away, unsure of how to feel or respond.

"Tony, you feel however you want, there's nothing wrong with feeling either way," he said, and the older man felt the sudden urge to protect him with his life.

"How's the work?" he asked, and he ignored the way Nicky sighed, still smiling, "I know you hate that, but I want to know."

"Why, I'm like the Walmart to your Gucci," Nicky joked, shaking his head, "But it's going good. I've got an entire box of blueprints, though, I need to get rid of them or else the kid'll get ideas again."

Tony snorted, shaking his head. Nicky, along with being a very young, successful psychologist, had a side job as a provider of various technological goods for other groups of heroes, like the Fantastic Four and the X-Men. The two had met when Tony had found his tech at the site of the wreckage after Spider-Man's incident at Coney Island with the Vulture, his girlfriend having been following close behind with the aforementioned tech.

It didn't take long for him to take up Nicky's offer to go to sessions, quickly making it a regular occurrence, meeting more than one usually did, as Nicky found that it would take a good amount of time to fully understand him before they could really move on, something unique to him and Tony.

"Throw some my way, I could use the distraction," he joked, his forced laugh dying when Nicky frowned at him, clearly concerned.

"Have you been sleeping?" he asked, remembering to lean back in his seat.

Tony glanced away, wincing as he remembered waking up in the middle of the night to another nightmare. He had brushed it aside immediately, but it had caused him enough torment so as to keep him up until morning.

"Have you tried melatonin?" Nicky asked, "There are gummy versions and you can't overdose on them. Not that I think you'd ever try, but I'm just saying," he rushed to add.

Tony rubbed his eyes, sighing. "I don't know anymore, Nick, I don't. What'm I even doing here for?"

Nicky shrugged. "You tell me. Tony, I'm just here to help you, because even before I met you, I knew you had a lot of guilt riding on your shoulders, and then some. But this comes in stages."

"Did you see the glasses I made?" Tony asked, nearly cutting him off, "The ones that I showed off at MIT?"

Nicky gave him an almost sad smile. "Yeah, Tony, I did. It's incredible how you did that. Do you still use them?"

Reaching into his pocket, Tony pulled them out, handing them over to the man. "Is it healthy for me to use these?"

The psychologist sighed as he reached for them, leaning back and placing them against the light, peering through, as if it would do anything. "Do you use this as a way to come to terms with what happened, or as a way of ignoring it entirely? Tony, I believe these can be a good way of coping, but they can also be more destructive than helpful."

He handed them back, Tony pocketing them. They sat in silence for a moment, Nicky waiting for the man to say something, fully aware that he wouldn't.

"Why do you put up with me?" the older man finally sighed, shifting in the seat, "I don't cooperate, I have nothing you can work with, sure I give you money, but I'm wasting your time, why don't you send me away, you do that to a lot of patients."

Nicky leaned forward, looking him in the eye, despite Tony wanting to avoid it. "Because you are an interesting person, Tony. And you, of all people, deserve to have someone take care of you, because you take care of everyone else."

He laughed softly, continuing, "And you do give me something to work with. You haven't tried making jokes in a while, you're being very real with me, and I appreciate that."

"Well," Tony said, clearing his throat, "Uh, good. I'm glad I could help."

Nicky laughed again, shaking his head, lifting it up to smile at him. "You're a good man, Tony. There are a lot of people who believe that."

"And a lot of people who don't," he pointed out, scowling.

The younger man shrugged. "That's not your problem, though, is it? Tony, you told me about the woman that had spoken to you after your presentation at MIT, after the glasses. Why did you feel as awful as you did?"

Tony frowned, pulling out the glasses again. "I killed her son."

"How?" he asked immediately, "How-how did you kill her son? How-how did you murder someone you hadn't even known existed?"

Tony opened and closed his mouth, shaking his head. "No, you don't understand, I—"

"You what?" Nicky interrupted, almost smiling, "You-you fought against a killer machine hell bent on destroying an entire city of people. You did what you could, you saved thousands of lives."

Tony bit his lip, shaking his head. "I couldn't save everyone. Those people, they had families. What if something like that happened here, what if it killed someone you loved?"

Nicky sighed and stood up, moving to pick up his phone. He hummed for a moment, typing away, leaving Tony to watch, frowning with his hands in his pockets, wondering just what this young man was doing.

Finally, Nicky held out the phone, showing a video of the one-year anniversary memorial of The Incident. He had fast forwarded it to a young blonde girl who was being interviewed. It showed her trying to speak, only to become overwhelmed with the questions and start screaming, kicking the reporter, his head hitting a headstone, before the video cut out.

"She doesn't hate you," Nicky whispered, "She told you this herself."

Tony took a deep breath. "She's more forgiving than I ever will be. More than most of us."

"But she proves it's not impossible," Nicky said, pocketing the phone, "Tony, you need to forgive yourself. You can't just keep torturing yourself, there are enough people who already want to do that to you. Don't help them."

"Why not?" the man asked, his voice a whisper.

Nicky leaned back in his seat, giving him an almost challenging look. "Why do you think you should?"

Tony didn't know where to begin.

º º º

He wasn't going to text Happy just yet.

It was about an hour later and Nicky had suggested that, if possible, he not head home right away. He suggested that he take a walk around, if he felt up to it, try to look around and think. When asked why, he simply shrugged, and Tony couldn't find it in himself to find anything wrong with that response, so off he went.

He was walking around Midtown, passing by all the blurring faces, paused a time or two by some people who wanted pictures—nothing new there—and generally just let his mind wander. He didn't have any real place to be, but Nicky seemed to know what he was talking about.

He was contemplating passing by Peter's school, surprise the kid and throw him a few brownie points with his classmates, as well as check up and see how he was doing, when he heard a loud shout.

Turning around on impulse, he found a flash of red come barreling straight towards him, shocking him into action. Before he could reach for his watch, he found himself now splayed on the ground, having been pushed down.

"Sorry, the ground was wet!" a voice called up, a hand grasping his own and tugging him to his feet.

Shocked, Tony pushed himself up, not pulling away from the small, but tight grip on his right hand. Looking down, he found a small boy grinning up at him, a red backpack slung over his shoulders that was as nearly as big as him.

"My name's Remy, do you wanna walk me home?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Ah, I hope this was okay? I don't usually write Tony like this, I usually write him as his more humorous, light hearted self, but considering the situation he was in, I decided to make him more vulnerable, I'm not sure if that was a great way to start off a story, oh no. But it's what worked, so I hope it worked out okay.

As for this being in the Hero of Heroes series, I'm sorry, I've tried to keep this separate from Lonely Hearts, but this ties directly into it, especially since Nicky is here, so I'm sorry for those who just want to read this without all these references. (there was a reference to Diana from L.H. when talking about the girl in the interview)

I don't have anything much else to say except thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed and stick around!