No one really seemed to care he was a superhero. Tony thought it'd all be different once he said those magic words, once he made the bold declaration: "I am Iron Man."
He'd been wrong.
People still only remembered him drinking too much, laughing too loud, having too many girls, being wild. They wanted to remember him as he'd been. It was as if that person? The one he'd been before the cave, before the suit, before Pepper, was someone who was more important to everyone since he was more interesting.
Tony didn't feel less interesting as a sober man. He felt more alive.
Standing up neatly, he shrugged, "Yeah. I'm a superhero. Right now? I'm a guy stuck in this place the same as you're a girl stuck in this place. Maybe we'll both figure out something more about ourselves in time. This place could be good for us. You never know. I found the secret to my success in a cave in Afghanistan where I was kidnapped by insurgents. Literal terrorists taught me the secret to living a happier, fuller, sober life. You never know where your 'Eureka' is going to come from, Rachel. I hope you get yours soon. See you around, yeah?"
Tony waved as he was sure Rachel was fine enough to leave on her own for a while. It wasn't likely she had been looking for an audience for her grief anyway.