Title of Chapter: Identity Crisis

Word Count: 2092

Author: VampiraDiablo

Pairing: None

Rated for mild language.

Identity Crisis

He was quite the enigma. A masked hero. He basked in the attention and glory, yet did his work in the shadows. They never understood why he wished it to stay this way. Everyone wanted to meet the pilot. The man in the suit. The true hero.

Of course, they understood to whole 'secret-identity' thing. The wish—the need—to protect your family, your friends, those close to you. The secret that, while protecting them, protected you from your enemies as well.

Still, this realization did little to nothing to deter them from the desire to meet him. The real him. Even if this wish were to be fulfilled, it still was unlikely that they themselves would get to actually speak to him, face to face.

The enemy was attacking. He never seemed to mind protecting them as well. Even with the insults some of their worst threw at him. He was polite, from what they had heard, and patient in everything he did; from calming a hysterical victim, to persuading the frightened and inexperienced robber to put the gun down, that they didn't want to hurt anyone, that they should let him help them...

There were the villains, too. The ruthless ones. The kind that never really cared if they hurt anyone or not. Even so, he always gave them another chance to right themselves, to turn around, to change.

Like Unicorn and Firefly. They were some of the persistent ones. Stubborn, yet powerful. They were a force to be reckoned with, of course, especially when teamed together, as they usually were.

Unicorn's horn was a very powerful, and very effective, laser. Though it took time to charge after every blast, it could really pack a punch. As in, a punch that actually hurt. By the looks of it, the Unicorn's horn was one of the few known weapons that could damage Iron Man's armor. And they fought often.

Like now. Iron man dodged a particularly strong blast from the villain. The battle had been going on for about half and hour, and still they were at it. Neither of them were fore fitting. It seemed that Unicorn was alone for this one, since Firefly had yet to be seen. The green goggled man grinned down at his enemy. "Tired already, Iron Man? Aw, but it was just getting fun!" He sent another shot at the armored hero. Iron Man made no move to protect himself from the onslaught, instead checking to be sure that there were no citizens in the line of fire. No, there were none. The rockets at his heels flared to life in a blue flame as he knocked his opponent from the sky, and they both landed in the gravel. Unicorn threw the crimson and gold clad figure off his back and growled. Iron Man's hands were up, and his palms glowed a neon blue. Lasers shot from the outstretched gloves and Unicorn went flying backwards.

The criminal grinned. "Fine, throw a fit 'bout missin' your nap-time, whatever. Thing is, Iron Man, I know where your weak spot is, now."

No comment, though the hero slowly slid into a fighting stance, and his tilted lightly to the left at these words.

Unicorn went on. "Yeah, that hole in your chest? Great laser, pretty powerful. Also an awesome target." His horn glowed brightly, and the bystander stood, frozen to the spot, unable to help in any way. "Nighty-night, boy."

Iron man tried to raise his forearms for cover, but the act wasn't quick enough. A steady beam of light slammed into his chest, directly into the weak point Unicorn had bragged about discovering.

They couldn't move, couldn't help in at all, as the force of the blast sent him skidding a few feet down the street. A pain filled shout induced shout reached their ears just before the beam hit, though it was muffled by clenched teeth. Unicorn stepped forward to finish him off.

A loud bang echoed throughout the avenue.

The sound made them stiffen in anticipation, but they soon relaxed as Unicorn stumbled back. A gold and crimson armored limb was there to meet him, and he was soon out cold, lying on the asphalt.

They looked to see a man standing there, arm outstretched, gun in hand. He was dressed in a white turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, dark denim jeans, and black hunting boots. His other hand hung by his side, but you could see the F.B.I badge clutched in the tight fist.

The man ran forward as Iron Man sunk to the concrete, clutching his chest and letting out strangled coughs.

"Iron Man! Are you—" He helped the hero sit up, and his words seemed to catch in his throat. He probably saw what they all noticed, then.

The blue glow that could always be seen illuminating the circle on the hero's chest was...not... blue, anymore. It was red.

This was probably due to the fact that blood was pouring from it in worrisome amounts.

The man's eyes widened. "Oh, God..."

Iron Man gasped. "C-can't... bre—" Gloved hands were suddenly at his throat, tugging at the base of the helmet. Trying to pull—to rip—it from his head.

Despite the dire circumstance, they all leaned forward, feet still glued to the spot, to see what they had always wondered about.

XXX

She held her breath as he pulled the armor covering from his face. It seemed to be complicated just to remove the head piece. He had to choke out some sequence of numbers for the face plate—the gold part—to slide down, and then ripped the rest of it off.

The breath was stolen from her lips. He was a teenage boy, about her age. His messy mop of hair was such a dark brown that it was almost black. Thick black lashes shaded the widened pupils, and the round face was flawless but for the long white scar that ran just under his hairline, barely visible. His skin was a light olive color, almost white, but it didn't speak for the round, dark brown eyes and the slanted brows.

She was shaken from her daze, though, when he coughed, and a crimson liquid sloshed down his chin from the full, light colored lips. The almost blackened eyes shut tightly as he gasped for breath. What really got her was that the corners of his lips were upturned in a ghost of a smile, almost unreadable, like he was trying his best not to whimper through the unbelievably straight, tightly clenched, pearl white teeth. Blood stained the ground beneath him.

The F.B.I agent that had shot Unicorn looked up at her. His eyes were wide as he tried to keep the boy upright. "Call for paramedics. The kid needs help now."

The boy—it was still hard to think of this gorgeous being as the Iron Man—shook his head, that smile still on his face. "I'm... I'm f-fine..."

"Yeah." The man growled. "Like hell you are."

She pulled out her cell phone and flipped open the keyboard, dialing for the hospital as fast as those texting fingers could tap."Hello? Yes, the paramedics, please."

The others waited breathlessly as the operator connected her to the open line.

"Hello? Yes... no, it's not me... Yes... Iron man, he... No, this isn't a prank—" Some of them smirked uneasily at that. "... Yes, he got shot... By—by a laser... Unicorn... Okay... Thank you..."

It took a few moments to persuade whoever was on the line that NYC's legendary hero was actually injured, but they soon agreed to be there ASAP. She gave them the address, looking at the street sign for help, then snapped the phone shut.

The others were staring at her. Waiting. "They're... coming. Soon. Right now."

The agent breathed a sigh of relief, then looked back down at the boy he was holding. "Why... why are you smiling?"

It was true. He still sported that thin, barely noticeable smile.

"I... I'm t-trying not to... not to scream..." He admitted. Oh right. The smile could probably be viewed as a pain induced grimace, now. Then, his head tilted to the side, as if he had just thought of another reason. "And..."

The two of them—she and the agent—had to lean forward, to hear the rest. "Y-you're... helping me..."

She was so surprised that she almost didn't catch the last part. Why? Was helping him bad, or something?

"W-why...?"

It made her heart shatter, as she understood what he meant then. He honestly seemed surprised that they would do that, like he never had anyone help him with anything before, like he never had anyone to care.

They stared at him. "Wha..." The words had left her mouth before she even acknowledged them."—Of course we're helping you! You're dying!"

the gaze—those completely innocent eyes—strayed to her. She felt her face flame up, and she hoped it didn't show. He was just so darn... cute...

His mouth opened, as if he was about to say something, when the unspoken words were overtaken by violent coughs. The man had to hold him steady as he caught his breath, blood trickling down his chin. That's when the ambulance decided to pull up.

XXX

The hospital was buzzing with excitement. Iron man—the Iron Man—had just been reeled away on a ER gurney. Of course, the doctors were unsure of his condition—which had to be terrible—but the people in the lobby were still jumping up and down.

Then, a pain-filled scream echoed through the halls. That shut them up pretty quick. That was their hero screaming in pain. They didn't like that. Not at all.

There was a group of reporters huddled in the corner chairs, near the doors leading out onto the street where a small crowed of people was gathered, growing larger with every second as people spread the news of the injured hero. They were swapping information between each other about the armored boy.

Iron Man was a fairly good-looking teenage boy. Possibly sixteen of age, maybe less. His origin was thought to be Romani-Gypsy, but the olive-white skin and almost black eyes confused this theory. He seemed to be of average height with a dark complexion. With his strong, muscular build, he was your ideal 'tall-dark-and-handsome' kind of guy.

That was all they had. Nothing else. Not even the extent of his wounds. Not even a name. The rest remained a mystery.

They all flinched as another painful scream rang in their ears.

XXX

The surgeons stared at the site before them. A heart implant. The boy—Iron Man—, he had a heart implant.

It was like nothing they had ever seen before. The metal base itself was constructed of silver and stainless steel. The implant glowed with every heart beat. The increased sound was getting slower and slower by the minute. They had absolutely no clue of what to do.

A strangled cough shook them from their revere. They glanced down at the almost black eyes that were peering up at them, seeming confused and disoriented. The pain in them was clear, but a small smile still graced those soft lips.

Doctor Rozmerus clasped a hand behind his neck anxiously. "I... I have no idea what to do. I'm... sorry, kid..."

Still, the smile remained. He was a brave one, no doubt about it. Strong willed, too. He had woken up as if they hadn't just heavily sedated him. Which they had...

"Dr. Yinsin."

Doctor..."Who?"

Those big eyes were reduced to little sideways crescents as he smiled again. "Doctor Yinsin. T-the specialist... he-he knows what to... to..."

Of course! Dr. Micheal Yinsin was legendary in the medical world. Why hadn't they thought of it before?

Dr. Rozmerus laid a hand on an armored arm. "Don't worry kid, we got this..."

XXX

The man in the lobby looked up when he heard the shouting. He had been talking to the girl that helped him call the paramedics for the boy—Iron Man. She was gripping that cell phone with white knuckles as he fingered his badge nervously.

Three doctors in white lab coats—covered in blood, mind you—ran over to the secretary sitting at the front desk. The others waiting in the lobby with them shifted on their feet, worried.

"Get Dr. Michael Yinsin on the line now!" One of them, the tall one, yelled. "Iron Man needs help immediately!"