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There is a snap.
There is a flash of blinding white light.
And then the world turns upside down on itself, taking Pepper with it without giving her so much as a warning. Her stomach roils as the world around her comes back into focus, a once colorful scene turned to shades of gray with faint hints of orange and red –– an omen, a warning to them all.
There used to be grass here, she thinks, looking down at her feet. What an odd thing to think in a moment like this. There is no doubt that they’ve lost some of their best in this battle, that there has been too much blood shed on these grounds, and yet for some reason, Pepper can only think of the grass and how it is now burned and covered in a jumbled mess of the past.
It’s as if all sound has somehow been muted, Pepper not even being afforded the familiar ringing in her ears that often proceeds a battle. It is almost as if her senses have been turned inside out, fighting to reorient themselves to this strange scene. And the air, it feels as if it has been sucked out of the world, replaced with horrible things that when she breathes, it feels as if she’s choking. Her vision blurs suddenly as her chest constricts and Pepper feels nothing but panic, panic that she can no longer breathe or hear or see. She gasps, a hand flying to her throat as if to claw away the invisible hand choking her and for a single moment, Pepper thinks she might die.
It’s in that moment that the world is turned back on with a jerk, full of sensory overload; the cracklings of smoldering fires come to life, boots crunch on rubble and debris. The air though, it’s still so thick and makes her cough and she hates the way it tastes. But that doesn’t matter, not right now. She can move past the burning air and the charred taste in her mouth because not ten yards from her is Tony.
She knows it’s him because of the suit, the once gleaming red armor sleek and shiny and proud, a beacon of hope and protection. It’s battered and broken now, scratches so deep in the paint that Pepper wonders for a moment if there’s more than superficial body damage to the armor. There is red where there shouldn’t be red and Pepper can’t bring herself to consider whether or not the blood belongs to Tony or someone else.
Pepper watches as Tony stumbles forward and her heart jumps into her throat as she takes one step forward, then another. She watches as he catches himself and lowers himself to the ground. A place for him to rest.
It’s in that position that Pepper can truly see the extent of the damage to the suit, the injuries marring Tony’s entire right side. Bile rises in her throat and there’s so much pain she’s afraid she’ll collapse into a heap.
A comforting arm is there, wrapping around her waist and supporting her. It’s Rhodey and his expression is grim, tears swimming in his eyes — tears that say all the things Pepper doesn’t want to believe but knows is true. She straightens and takes Rhodey’s hand and they walk together toward the man they both love. Only a few yards away, Pepper drops Rhodey’s hand, allowing him to go to Tony while she takes a few more seconds to compose herself.
Peter is there next, falling to his knees in front of his mentor, his voice high pitched and scared as he speaks. Peter’s words make no sense to Pepper, sounding only like the roaring of the tide in her ears. She can’t breathe, she can’t think. Everything hurts and yet she cannot allow herself to fall apart. Not yet, not when Tony can see. She needs him to see her strong and brave and safe.
It feels as if her heart is being torn in two when she finally reaches forward to pull Peter away, gentle yet firm. She catches Rhodey grabbing onto the kid from the corner of her eye before she lowers herself to the ground in front of Tony. Tears threaten to spill as she looks at him, so lost and disoriented and in obvious pain. This is a pain so great not even she can take it away and she hates that about herself. Hates that she can do nothing but sit here and comfort her husband, the father of their child, her soulmate, in his final moments.
She hates that she can’t save him.
Failure and inability to solve problems is not something Pepper is familiar with. She’s been patching Tony up for years, keeping him safe, has nursed his wounds from domestic accidents to war zone-like injuries. Her hands can only do so much, she’s realizing, and it hurts.
“Tony.”
As soon as the word leaves her mouth, Pepper wants to grab it from the air and swallow it back down. It comes out all wrong, so full of despair and regret and all the wrong things. He doesn’t look at her and for a split second she thinks something is wrong, like she missed her opportunity to ease his fears and say goodbye, but he seems to register her voice and manages to turn his head to look at her properly.
Her heart jumps into her throat and it takes every last bit of energy to keep from screaming out in anger and anguish. Tony does not deserve that, to see her like this, so she steels herself and raises a hand, watching as the nanites slip from her fingers and retract into the suit near her wrist. She places her palm ever so gently on Tony’s cheek and attempts a smile that she knows is full of sorrow.
It’s the sound of Tony choking out a simple Hey, Pep that forces her head down, eyes squeezing shut as she tries to keep a grip on her emotions. When she looks up at him, there are tears in his eyes and the hints of a faint, sad smile on his lips. She wants to kiss him in that very moment, as absurd as it seems. She wants to press her mouth to his and kiss him like he’s never been kissed, to kiss him as if she can breathe the life back into his broken body.
It’s hard to force a smile when the world is falling apart, but Pepper manages a tight lipped one as her fingers brush across Tony’s cheek, a gentle reminder that she’s still here and that she doesn’t plan on leaving. Pepper Potts knows Tony Stark so intimately that it takes her one look in his eyes to know he’s hurting, that’s he’s wracked with guilt and remorse for things Pepper knows isn’t his fault. She wants to absolve him of his sins, to put his heart and mind at ease, so she shakes her head ever so slightly to calm him and watches as he seems to relax under her touch.
It reminds her of all the times they’d spent in bed, Tony restless and unable to sleep beside her. Pepper would thread her fingers through his hair, press her lips across his shoulder, all in an attempt to ease whatever demons had plagued him. He’d relax into her, his breathing evening out, and they’d survive another night together, just the two of them.
It’s unfair that she can’t do more for him in this moment. He deserves that much and she feels immense guilt that she can’t give it to him, this one simple thing.
Pepper thinks of Morgan, of the little girl with her daddy’s big brown eyes and quick tongue. At the young age of four, Pepper already knows she’s going to grow into a version of her father that will simultaneously break and mend her heart all at once every single day of her life. There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe the loss Pepper already feels knowing Tony will never get to see their daughter grow up, that he will never be there to help her build her own suit of armor or give her away on her wedding day.
They won’t get the chance to give Morgan a little brother or sister, to travel, to become grandparents themselves. How is she supposed to survive in a world that is void of Tony Stark? The world will eventually move on without Iron Man there to protect them, but Pepper will never be afforded that luxury. She will always have this pain, this emptiness in her chest. It will creep up at the most random times, clawing at her throat, this much she is certain of.
Pepper notices Tony losing his focus and oh god, please not yet, not now she thinks and she has to swallow over the lump in her throat in order to speak.
“Tony, look at me,” she says. She needs him to look at her, to give her this one final thing. She doesn’t want him to leave this earth afraid and she wants to be the last thing he sees, someone who loves him more than life itself.
Tony’s hand grabs the one not on his cheek and holds it to his chest. Pepper drops her gaze to their hands, watches the bright light of the arc reactor beneath her fingers slowly starting to lose its brightness and she looks up so fast, afraid she won’t get to say the words she so desperately needs him to hear.
Not I love you. No, that won’t do. Tony knows Pepper loves him, she doesn’t need to waste his final moments on something as superficial as that. Despite how agonizing it is, Pepper has to let him go; Tony needs to know it’s okay for him to give in, that there’s no shame in giving up the fight. Because in all reality? He’s won.
“We’re going to be okay. You can rest now.”
There is no big moment, nothing grandiose or theatrical to mark Tony Stark taking his final breaths and leaving this earth. It’s a simple and intimate moment, shared between soulmates, as if those around them no longer exist. Pepper can see the peace, the calm cross Tony’s features as he’s given the permission he clearly has been seeking.
Pepper hopes he knows how proud of him she is — how proud she’s always been. She hopes he knows that he was brave and strong and there’s no weakness in dying, not after all he’s just sacrificed.
The ever present blue glow that Pepper has come to know and love flickers more rapidly beneath her fingers until it goes out completely. She watches as Tony’s head rolls gently to the side, his hand slipping from atop her own to settle in the dirt next to them.
It’s only then that she knows he’s truly gone, that he’s no longer in pain, no longer fighting a battle he could not win. There is no keeping her emotions in any longer; a sob escapes her, choking her, as she leans forward to press her lips to his cheek.
She can no longer keep her head up or remain upright, so she leans forward until her forehead is pressing into the cool metal of the suit meant to protect the man inside. Her shoulders shake as she’s wracked with sobs, her cries the only sound in a once again deafened world. She wants to curse God or whoever is responsible for this sick, cruel joke.
She’s become stiff by the time she feels hands on her shoulders, another hand running down her hair. Pepper allows herself to be pulled away from Tony simply because she doesn’t have the fight or energy left in her to protest.
The world is turned on its side at the sight in front of her, the very real reminder that while the world won, she lost.
As she makes to stand, Pepper leans in to give Tony’s cheek one final kiss. He’s still warm beneath her mouth and she hates this, the bizarre, out-of-body experience she’s having. Pepper is a smart woman, knows that it can take the human body hours to become truly cool to the touch, yet her brain still cannot fathom Tony still being warm and dead all at the same time.
She stumbles to her feet, retching as she does so, unable to get the sudden taste of death out of her mouth. Air cannot enter her lungs and it’s as if she’s been submerged under water with a cylinder block firmly placed on her chest. She bends at the waist, empties the contents of her stomach, and hurriedly taps the arc reactor, the nanotech disappearing into the small piece on her chest as if this will help her breathe.
The lack of the suit does little to help with the sensation that she’s drowning, but Rhodey is there, and Peter, and they both have their arms around her, holding her up even as she shatters into a billion tiny pieces. The dam inside of her has broken right alongside everything else and the only thing Pepper wants is to become numb to this unfathomable pain.
Someone close to her is speaking, though Pepper cannot place the voice with the person, not when her entire body has gone into shock. The words are soft and sweet and meant to soothe, but they only make her cry harder despite the fact that she knows no truer words have ever been spoken.
“He’s loved you from the beginning, Pepper. It’s always been you.”