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There is something wrong.
There’s a wringing in Tony’s ears, one that is near deafening, and his chest hurts so bad he can hardly breathe. Each time he tries to suck in air, his lungs protest angrily and blood pounds in his head. He thinks FRIDAY’s name, tries to speak it, but no sound comes out as if his vocal chords no longer work properly.
As he stumbles forward, he realizes the scene around him looks gray, as if the end of the world is upon them and the last place of salvation is moments away from swallowing them whole. His boot connects with a mangled piece of metal and he trips, having just enough strength to reach out and grab the metal bones of some old structure that is no more.
Turning, Tony presses his back against the remnants of the object that once stood and slides down until the ground is solid beneath him. Everything is going in and out of focus, his eyes hazy and far off. But there are people nearing where he’s collapsed and he finally forces himself to look at the face in front of his own.
It’s Rhodey, and he’s crying.
Rhodey is his best friend, the one person he trusts just about as much as Pepper. A hand drops to the top of Tony’s head and he knows it belongs to his best friend, though the man doesn’t say anything, just steps back with a small, sad smile.
Peter is there next, grabbing onto Tony’s shoulders, desperately trying to get him to focus. He wants to, wants to ease the fear that’s working its way through the kid’s bones, but he can’t make his mouth move properly and his entire right side feels as if it’s on fire.
All he wants to do is sleep, but he can’t because Peter needs him and he can’t fail him a second time.
Peter is saying something about how they won, calling him ‘Mr. Stark’ repeatedly, and Tony wants to tell him to stop, to just call him Tony and not to cry, that everything is going to be okay. The kid mentions winning again, and Tony for the life of him can’t figure out what he means—he’s not even sure where he is or how he got there.
His breathing is more labored now and he feels Peter pulling away, as if someone is forcing him to leave, and he wants to cry out, to tell them to stop because he knows the kid must be terrified, but it’s of no use. His head rolls slightly to the side and his unfocused eyes finally manage to train on a smoldering piece of debris not too far off.
“Tony.”
The voice is soft and sweet and tinged with heartbreak and regret and all of the things he never wants to hear in that voice. He knows it better than his own, could pick up on the soft lilt of that perfect voice in even the loudest of crowds.
It belongs to his beautiful and stunning Pepper.
Something in that realization causes the synapses to fire correctly in his brain, though it takes him a moment to catch up and Tony begins to panic when he realizes everything is going horribly wrong; he needs to see Pepper, make sure she’s okay, make sure Morgan is safe because that is the only thing that ever matters. His heart is pounding harder than ever and he gasps a little, choking on something that tastes eerily familiar to him and for a split second, he’s transported back to Afghanistan, red blooming through his shirt and filling his mouth.
The thoughts of Afghanistan fade to black but the taste of metal is still there, threatening to choke him, when he feels a hand on his cheek, the touch unmistakable; even as Pepper commands him to look at her, he struggles, but he does it for her and also himself. Her hand is still on his cheek, his own skin burning hotly beneath her touch, and he wonders why she hasn’t pulled away.
He hopes that she won’t, hopes that she will stay close to him and help ease the fear that’s crawling just beneath his skin.
“Pep,” he manages to croak out. He wants to smile at her, to make her laugh and see the way her eyes crinkle up, but his mouth won’t work like he needs it to, so he settles for a mangled version of her nickname.
Panic starts bubbling in his chest, and he can’t do anything to stop it, and before he knows it, that panic has transformed into complete fear—fear of what’s happening, of Pepper and his sweet little Morgan being alone. His eyes are trained on Pepper’s and he can see the hurt and guilt and pain in them and he wants to take it away because he’s the one that’s done this to her. In that moment, it’s almost as if she knows what’s going through his mind, so when she smiles at him with just the slightest shake of her head, Tony immediately feels at ease.
Pepper’s fingers are still cool against his too-hot cheek and he thinks of all the times he used to tease her about her notoriously cold hands. He thinks about how she would crawl into bed next to him and slide her cold hands under his t-shirt, seeking out his warmth. He’d grumble at her before quickly wriggling to the edge of the bed, playfully swatting at her hands until she removed them and he moment she did, Tony never wasted any time rolling over to trap her beneath him, her wrists pinned loosely above her head as he held her in place. He always kissed her hard enough to take her breath away and god did he want to do that again.
If he could, Tony would lean into her touch like he’s done a million times over the years, but he’ll settle for what he can get. These are the very same hands that literally reached into his chest, small and dainty and the perfect size, the same hands that straightened his crooked ties and fixed his unruly hair. The very same hand that’s resting against his cheek is the one that held their daughter, that soothed Morgan through her sleepless nights as an infant and held onto her little fingers as she began leaning to walk.
Pepper’s hands have eased many of his cuts and bruises throughout the years; she’s helped him ease into an ice bath after a particularly nasty round in the suit, has wrapped his hands in bandages after accidentally getting burnt while trying to fix dinner—he remembers that well, remembers how he was so nervous because Pepper had just moved in and he wanted to do something special for her.
Tony’s eyes sting and he realizes it’s the threat of tears as he remembers his life with Pepper before things got so complicated, but the tears won’t fall. He can feel Pepper’s thumb move against his cheek, soft and soothing as she calls out his name again.
“Tony, look at me,” she says, her voice firm but ever gentle. He blinks at her slowly and he starts panicking again because he can’t read her expression and it’s getting harder to take in air. He has to fight through whatever this is, needs to let Pepper see how strong he is being.
How he does it, Tony’s not sure, but he somehow manages to reach for Pepper’s free hand and brings it to his chest, holding it in place, the arc reactor peeking from beneath her splayed fingers. His body protests with the aching movements, but his vision is starting to go blurry and dark around the edges, like he’s moments away from losing consciousness and he can’t, not yet.
Something tells him it’s more than that though and really, it’s not surprising. He’s seen what the Infinity Stones can do some of the strongest of people and when it comes down to it, he’s just a man in a can, after all.
But still, he has to do something, anything, so he can go home with Pepper and hold his little girl and spin her around in dizzying circles. He wants to go home with Pepper and hold her hand as they look up at the stars from their front porch swing, wants to lie in bed with her on a Saturday morning as she threads her fingers through his hair as early morning sun peeks through the curtains.
He loves her so much it physically hurts, but god she’s worth the pain.
Look at how strong I’m being, Pep. I’m going to fight for you, no matter what, he thinks. Tony wants nothing more in the world to say those words out loud, to erase whatever Pepper is feeling, regardless of how tired he’s become.
There’s an encroaching darkness that he’s unable to fight off and he’s afraid that if he closes his eyes, he won’t be able to open them again.
Pepper speaks, but Tony doesn’t catch her words at first through the haze of exhaustion that’s pressing down on his chest like a ton of bricks. He watches Pepper’s mouth open again and he fights through the darkness, determined to stay awake for her, to fight whatever this is because she needs him just as much as he needs her.
Pepper’s words, however, are not at all what he’s expecting.
“We’re going to be okay. You can rest now.”
A strange sense of calm comes over him at this, and despite the pain in her voice, he knows she means it, knows she and Morgan will be okay because they’ll have Happy and Rhodey close by, even if he’s not.
His heart stutters in his chest and the warm, metallic taste of blood is back in his mouth, mixed with dirt and ash and death. As he blinks, he focuses on Pepper’s face, focuses on how proud she looks even as she tries to fight back her tears because she hates it when he sees her cry.
You did so well, you were so brave, Pepper’s expression seems to say.
He isn’t afraid anymore, but instead feels at peace. Pepper is safe, Morgan is safe, his friends and Peter are all safe too and Tony knows that his girls are strong and brave, that he won’t have to worry about them. He thinks of Steve and Clint and Bruce and even Natasha and for a moment he wonders if his old friend will be there waiting for him, hand outstretched and ready to spar, just like they used to at the Compound.
He thinks she will be and hopes his parents will be there too. He can’t wait to tell them all about his brown-eyed little spitfire. It hurts, knowing they were deprived of Morgan being in their lives when he had four and a half precious years with her.
He wishes he could have more.
A realization hits Tony all at once and he realizes he would go through this all again for his family, to make sure Pepper and Morgan never have to live in fear. He’s been wracked with regret about a number of things over the years, but this is not one of them because he did it out of love.
As the remnants of a smile fall on his lips, Pepper is the last thing Tony sees. And because he can’t say it, he thinks it, just as everything fades to black.
When I drift off, I will dream about you. It’s always you.