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"It is seven a.m. and 79 degrees outside."
Tony groaned.
"Should I take that as affirmation that you are awake, sir?"
Slitting his eyes open, Tony hissed as too-bright sunlight from the curving windows behind him reflected from the various glassy surfaces around him. He propped himself up awkwardly on one arm, wincing as the symphony playing in his head upped their efforts from drums to sledgehammers, all of which seemed to be aimed directly at his skull.
"Wha-" he started, but Jarvis interrupted him.
"It is Thursday morning, sir, and you are on the couch in your living room. I believe your exact words when I suggested that you might wish to move to your bedroom were 'shut the fuck up'. I of course did as you ordered." The amused tone in the AI's voice was unmistakable, and Tony wondered, not for the first time, why he'd ever thought giving Jarvis a sense of humor was a good idea. Biting back the sharp words that hovered on the tip of his tongue, he struggled upright, cursing under his breath. His mouth was dry, his throat sore, and even as his stomach growled sharply at him, the thought of eating was nearly enough to make him nauseous.
Wobbling slightly, Tony made his way across the house to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of water. He twisted off the cap and threw it blindly to the side before swallowing the cool liquid, soothing as it made its way down his parched throat. Once the bottle was empty, he tossed it into the garbage and took another one out of the refrigerator before taking a deep breath.
"The coffee is nearly finished brewing, sir. Might I suggest that some breakfast is in order?"
"God, no." Tony fumbled for the bottle of Excedrin that he kept in the nearby drawer, tumbling two of them out into his hand before replacing it, and swallowed them with another long drink of water. "That might be the worst idea I've heard in... days, at least."
"Of course, sir. Your decision to enjoy two bottles of scotch by yourself last night was, of course, typically brilliant." The sarcasm was cutting, and Tony glared suspiciously at the ceiling.
"Have you been letting Pepper give you ideas again, Jarvis? You're sounding pretty damned preachy this morning." Throwing away the empty plastic bottle, Tony filled a coffee cup with his favored dark brew and took a swallow, making a face at the bitterness before taking another drink.
"My apologies, sir. May I suggest instead that a shower and clean clothes would be appropriate, given that you are scheduled to appear at a Board of Directors meeting in three hours?"
"Shit. Is that today?" He cupped the hot mug in his hands, staring broodingly into the dark liquid as Jarvis gave him an affirmative answer to his rhetorical question. What the hell had come over him last night? It wasn't the first time he'd drunk himself to sleep, but to do it the night before a Board meeting...
And then he remembered.
"Dammit," he whispered, head dropping forward. He felt exhaustion settle over him, weighing heavily on his shoulders, and in that moment he missed Obi nearly as much as he hated him.
"Sir?" Jarvis sounded almost hesitant, and Tony knew that the house's AI was worried. About him. Sad that knowing that made him feel a little bit better, but he'd already alienated most of the other people who might worry about him. Jarvis and Pepper were really the only ones he had left - and he'd made Jarvis himself.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm moving," he muttered, pushing himself away from the kitchen counter. Time to put on his best suit, his best 'Tony Stark, the genius bastard' attitude, and deal with the real world.
As he stepped into the shower, he wondered when being Iron Man had become more real to him than being himself.