System Error: Identity Manager (Part XI)

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Iron Man Crossover (Self-Made Hero)
Summary: Despite how it might look, the transition isn't easy. There's only so long the destabilized situation can continue before something's gotta give...
Iron Man Armored Adventures
Word Count: 960
Rating: Teen

        This time when Tony hears something behind him, he’s had enough. It’s getting close to a month and he’s still got nothing, only a nagging sense of paranoia that just. Won’t. Go. Away. He lets the ghost or whatever it is get close, before turning dramatically to catch it, and he sees the eyes of the male teen—so he’d been right about that—widen in surprise when he’s caught unawares. “Look, I don’t care how many romance movies you’ve watched; stalking is not flattering no matter how much of an admirer you are,” he states, grateful that the modulator helps hide the sound of his voice shaking. At least it’s not The Ghost, but it might be a ghost, judging by the fact that the guy actually is kind of seethrough. Or who knows, maybe an experiment, some kind of new tech, his life is fun like that.
        And then suddenly there’s light everywhere and he’s screaming, and he makes out the ghost teenager mouthing an expletive before, well—
        He’s been stuck in his armor before, when it was acting on his own, and that was bad enough. This is worse. Even through the screaming pain of the electricity—he identifies that now, because oh he wishes this was the only time he’s been electrified—and the familiar ache in his chest—he’s got enough of his mind to realize that something is moving his body without him, puppeting him like he’s nothing more than a toy, and it’d been terrifying enough to be trapped in his armor as it hurt people, but this? This was the stuff of nightmares. Wait, is this how his friends felt after the AIM stuff and the Controller. Crap, he has to apologize to them again, because this sucks.
        EMP. Gotta figure out how to shield from EMPs somehow, a thought that sounds a lot like his voice and the sort of thing he would be thinking in a combat situation except he distinctly didn’t think that, says into his brain.
        Running low on power, another voice observes, and this one also sounds like him only that’s definitely a woman’s voice.
        We can probably power things through magic, given that this is our head and things don’t need to make sense. That voice doesn’t sound like him, which is a relief, given that he’s already starting to feel a little light-headed. But—wait. It’s somewhat familiar. In fact, he’s pretty sure it’s the voice that belongs to the ghost that’s been haunting him and driving him up the wall. Sorry about this. I’ve always had a terrible sense of timing.
        Uh—yeah, he responds, surprised for a moment to find he’s not short of breath before realizing that duh, of course not, this is him thinking in his head; that doesn’t require any sort of breath whatsoever. You, uh, wanna let me pilot my own body again or what?
        We distracted you. Direct, so direct it’s got him even more off balance, but—kind? At a very crucial moment, I might add. The damage you sustained would have you vulnerable to further attack. We are not so limited.
        Uh. Huh. Okay, so biology is far from his most favorite science course, but still, working through that—Hang on, couldn’t you damage me further if you can’t feel the pain? He remembers having read some article; Dad always liked reading about that sort of thing because it had been one thing to create Captain America and another to really understand how he ticked, so even though his friend was lost Dad really liked researching in the hope that further understanding could help if and when they found Steve Rogers alive—
        It would if this wasn’t—another voice starts, but this one is if anything even calmer than the direct version of him. Calmer and quieter. The Mechanic, if it helps you keep things straight. This sounds straight out of some bad SciFi movie, but here goes—this is like a simulation. None of this is happening, exactly, except working through this and getting everyone sorted is absolutely crucial for not getting the kid killed because it’s too overwhelming and his brain can’t cope.
        Ghost teen winces and waves. Sorry I’m not a genius like all of you, he apologizes, and part of him says that yeah, that’s absolutely ludicrous and this is probably all a dream. There’s no way. Pepper, Rhodey, whatever villain’s throwing EMP grenades and trying to escape repulsors right now, they’re all not real?
        But another part of him is already analyzing it, because the computer stuff? The computer stuff he gets. Can we—I know this sounds ridiculous, because we’re talking about a human body here, but is there no way to upgrade the hardware? That’s what you do, if you’re pushing a computer (or a suit) to its limits.
        We can look into it, but right now, all the panicking and less-than-ideal functioning is basically code bloat. This integration spell is supposed to optimize our functioning as ‘programs’. A new voice, now that he concentrates coming from a version of himself wearing a cape.
        Sure, whatever. That’s normal now.
        He doesn’t want to say goodbye, to leave Rhodey and Pepper and Gene and everyone else alone, but then, it’s basically a computer simulation, right? Some part of him knows that they’re telling the truth. And more than that—
        “He’s gonna die if I don’t cooperate, isn’t he?” He says it out loud, just to be sure, feels rather than sees some different versions of himself exchange glances. “Okay. What do I have to do?”
        Sure, it’ll be a little lonely, but you’ll never be alone, the kid promises with relief, and with that the pain and everything else disappears.