The ride back to Earth had felt like it had gone on for an eternity, and yet Tony had barely noticed the way that time suddenly seemed to drag on. He hadn't been able to muster up the words for any kind of conversation, no apologies for everyone who had been lost in the snap, no rage driven vow for vengeance, nothing. Instead, all he'd managed was a choked, "Take me home," and the rest of the trip had passed by in a never ending blur of quiet pain and almost overwhelming numbness. His companion - he couldn't remember her name right now, not even if he tried - hadn't tried to pressure him into doing much more than getting off of Titan, and let him sit silently by the window, staring blankly as they passed by the stars and planets and the general emptiness of space that had haunted his dreams ever since that first attack in New York. He hadn't moved until they'd finally landed and he was dropped off at the front doors of his home. The ship hadn't stuck around. The second Tony was standing on solid ground, it had taken off again, and honestly, Tony couldn't blame her for leaving. He almost wanted to go, too, to fly away and escape from the few things on Earth that were waiting for him, to run away from all the inevitable judgemental stares and pointed fingers and heavy expectations that would surely crush what little was left of him.
But he was tired. He was tired and cold and far, far too numb to muster the energy to be scared of the overwhelming disappointment that he just knew would confront him the second he exposed himself to whatever was left of the world. After all, if there was one thing Tony Stark had always excelled at, it was disappointing people.
He stared at the entrance to his home for twenty minutes before he finally managed to step forward, his left hand trembling as he pressed it against the scanner. The doors opened for him immediately, welcoming him into the first safe space he'd had since he'd first set foot on that god forsaken ship. The warmth of his home instantly bombarded him, heating kept on in anticipation of his arrival due to the courtesy of FRIDAY, and it desperately tried to warm him again, tried to remove the icy cold that had frozen his blood and settled in his bones. Tony wasn't sure anything would ever be able to remove such a deep seated chill.
"I'm home," Tony said weakly. His words bounced around the room, echoing back at him almost mockingly. There was no response from anywhere in the house.
Tony forced his stiff limbs to shuffle him further into the room, moving him away from the doors that led to the outside world and into the warmth of his home, his safe place, his sanctuary. Tony couldn't remember the last time such a space had really, truly relaxed him.
He ran a finger over a random surface, bringing it up to inspect it. "Bit dusty in here, isn't it? We really need to start taking care of this place. Maybe I'll buy one of those roombas Peter keeps talking about."
His voice cracked at Peter's name. Tony pretended it didn't. Like he pretended that the mantlepiece was covered in dust, even though anyone could see that it wasn't. It was completely spotless, because if nothing else, Pepper wanted them to take pride in their home.
"Actually, maybe I'll just build my own," Tony continued, sweeping swiftly into the kitchen to get away from the empty living room, "I'm sure I could make one better than the ones you buy at the store. Actually, I should probably build a robot that cleans up all the dirty dishes for me. I'd get a maid, but really, what sane human being would want to clean up all of this mess?"
He gestured wildly to the counter by the sink, as if showing someone mountains of used dishes and bowls and cutlery, even though the only thing on the side was a single coffee mug.
It never used to be completely clean. Clint used to constantly stack dishes and bowls on top of each other and just leave them there. When Thor visited, the number tended to double, if he even bothered to take them into the kitchen instead of just leaving them on the table. Bruce used to horde coffee cups in his lab, and every so often would shuffle sheepishly into the kitchen to leave his latest collection on the side to be washed. Steve used to start to wash them by hand, even though Tony had told him countless times to just use the dishwasher, god damn it, but then he'd get distracted by yet another crisis Clint had caused, and end up leaving some dishes on the side to be put away and some in the sink to be cleaned. Natasha... Tony wasn't actually sure what Natasha had done with her dishes. He'd always hoped she had the sense to just put the damn things in the dishwasher, but he was never actually sure.
The kitchen had cleaned up significantly since the Avengers had... left. It was mostly just coffee cups and a few dirty dishes from dinner, but they never stayed there for long. Tony had never noticed just how empty the kitchen had become, because he'd spent most of his time down in his workshop, working frantically on Rhodey's braces and with the UN and the press to minimise the damage that had been done. He'd been too focused on fixing the mess the Accords had caused to notice the lack of a mess in his kitchen. And when he finally stopped locking himself in his workshop for days on end and actually started to regularly visit the rest of his home, well. Peter had been there by then. It was easier to ignore the Avengers' gaping absence when there was a young teenage superhero he had to keep an eye on.
Without Peter's endless chatter, the silence of his home suddenly became deafening.
Tony swallowed thickly, hands gripping tightly onto the nearby counter, suddenly aware that there had been no response to anything he'd said. The last person that had spoken to him had been that alien woman, demanding that he get up and onto the ship so they could get off of Titan before the sun went down. And the person before that...
Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good.
Tony's eyes drifted to the cabinet he could see out of the corner of his eye. The one he knew contained strong drinks, far stronger than coffee. His usual method of dealing with his problems when he was left to deal with them alone.
"FRIDAY?" he croaked out instead. "What time is it?"
For a single, terrifying second, Tony thought she wasn't going to reply. That the snap had somehow affected his bots and his AI, that he'd been left in a home so devoid of life that there weren't even any comforting lines of code or machinery to keep him grounded.
"It is 22:48, Boss," FRIDAY responded, as calm and collected as ever. The ever present anxiety gnawing at Tony eased up just a little at her voice. She hadn't been present at all with him when he'd been in space, and the lack of her reassuring, steady presence had put him even more on edge.
"Where's Pepper?"
"Miss Potts has not yet returned home. Would you like me to call her?"
Tony bit his lip. Pepper was rarely late home, especially this late. Sure, sometimes she got stuck in traffic, but she normally at least sent a text...
"Boss?"
"Sure, FRIDAY. Give her a call."
Tony paced as he waited for Pepper to pick up, worrying his lip between his teeth as he tried to squash down his feeling of fear. It was probably fine. Maybe she just got caught up in all her work and forgot to send him a text. Maybe she hadn't texted him because she knew it wouldn't reach him when he wasn't even on Earth. Maybe she was at SI, safe and sound and Tony had absolutely no reason to panic-
"Boss, Miss Potts' phone has gone straight to voicemail."
Tony's chest went tight. "Call her again."
Pepper didn't pick up the second time, either. Or the third. Or the fourth. Or the fifth. By the sixth call Tony wasn't able to push down his panic anymore. His pacing grew more erratic, his left hand was clenching and unclenching, his right hand was tapping rapidly against the arc reactor.
"FRIDAY?"
"I'm sorry, Boss. I don't think she's receiving any of your calls."
Tony's breath was shaky. He didn't understand. Why wasn't she answering him? Why wasn't she returning his calls? Her phone was always on, always close by so that she wouldn't miss an important call. Sure, she'd ignored his calls before, because she claimed he kept distracting her while she was trying to work, but not now, she wouldn't ignore him now, not after New York, not when the last time she had seen him he was being dragged away to deal with Thanos, she'd promised him she'd always keep an eye out for his calls, that he'd always have a chance to say goodbye, and Pepper didn't break her promises, she'd promised him so why wasn't she picking up-
I don't wanna go.
Tony's breath hitched. No.
"Boss?"
"No," Tony said. His head shook. His left hand wouldn't stop trembling. "No, no, no, no, no."
FRIDAY was speaking again, but Tony wasn't listening, his head shaking and his feet backing away, his mind fixated on one thing: no, not her, anyone but her, please not her...
Sir, please, please, I don't wanna go.
Pepper.
No.
A strangled gasp escaped him, and suddenly he was tearing through his home, flinging doors open and screaming Pepper's name, begging her to come out, please honey, this wasn't funny anymore, she was scaring him, he's sorry that he ran off again but he couldn't apologise if she wasn't there, oh please please please come out he can't do this without her he needs her he needs her he needs her please please please she had to be okay she couldn't not be okay he couldn't do this without her-
But she didn't appear. Tony's voice felt hoarse and tears were starting to stream down his face, but no matter what he said, Pepper still wouldn't appear.
No.
Tony pushed open the door to their shared bedroom, eyes darting wildly around the room as if he expected her to be stretched out on their bed, book in her hand, mouth curled up in a small smirk and eyes crinkling affectionately and beckoning him closer, a soft "gotcha" loosening the tightness in his chest...
But she wasn't. The room was empty.
No.
No.
No.
No. No. No. No. No no no no no no nononononononono-
A quiet sob escaped him. Tony stumbled towards their shared closet without really thinking, trembling fingers opening the doors and pulling out one of Pepper's shirts. It was one he'd gotten her for Christmas, a t-shirt he'd found online that said "behind every great man is an even greater woman". Pepper had scoffed and rolled her eyes, but she'd worn it when she met up with her friends a few days later, and confessed to him late at night that she thought it was adorable he thought so highly of her, even if he only expressed it via stupid shirts.
It wasn't true, of course. They both knew Tony would scream from the rooftops for hours about Pepper if he were ever given the chance.
Tony buried his face in the shirt, fingers clutching at the soft, well worn fabric like it was a lifeline, desperately breathing in Pepper's scent, trying to commit it to memory. More tears slipped out, dripping onto the shirt, soaking it in his grasp, and it only made him sob harder. He staggered over to the bed, knees hitting the edge, and collapsed onto it, curled up on Pepper's side of the bed, Pepper's shirt in his hand, Pepper's pillow cushioning his head, soft but nowhere near as soft as her, lacking the comforting warmth that she so effortlessly provided.
Tony didn't want any of it. He didn't want Pepper's side of the bed, he didn't want Pepper's shirt, he didn't want Pepper's pillow. He just wanted Pepper.
But Pepper wasn't there.
Tony couldn't help but wonder what happened. What exactly was Pepper doing when the snap happened? Maybe she was in work, hunched over a stack of paperwork, when she noticed her hand wasn't gripping her pen as tightly anymore, that it was flaky and falling apart. Or maybe she was in the car, Happy driving her, when she saw her legs start to disintegrate. Or maybe she was at home, waiting for him to come back, when she realised she could see herself falling apart in the faint reflection in the window she was standing in front of.
Maybe it was quick, maybe Pepper didn't even have time to notice something was wrong. Maybe she was snatched away from the world swiftly, taken long before her time. But maybe it was slow. Maybe she fought it, fell apart slowly, looked at herself with horror, unable to understand what was happening to her, and wishing more than anything that Tony was by her side.
Maybe she was surrounded by coworkers, who watched her fall apart with terror and lost her ashes amongst everyone else's. But maybe she'd been alone. Maybe she'd been alone, frightened and helpless, and Tony hadn't been there. He'd been in space, fighting a battle he had no hope of winning, and maybe Pepper had fallen apart wondering why he wasn't there.
Tony would never, ever forgive himself if he'd let her die alone.
Distantly, he could hear his own sobs. He could feel his throat rubbed raw from his screaming. He could feel his face wet with tears. He could hear FRIDAY calling him, trying to get his attention, trying to calm him down before this dissolved into a panic attack. But Tony didn't want to listen. He couldn't bring himself to. His mind was fuzzy, buzzing, it looped the terrible images over and over, Peter's broken and defeated voice as he crumbled in Tony's arms, then Pepper in his place, angry and frightened tears streaming down her face, demanding answers he couldn't give, why hadn't he been there? Why couldn't he stop Thanos? He knew there was a threat against Earth, had known for years, so why hadn't he protected them?
Tony didn't know. He was a genius, he was supposed to know everything. But he didn't know how else he could have stopped Thanos, could have protected the Earth, could have saved the people he loved.
Tony was sure the guilt of not knowing would eat him alive for the rest of his life. The guilt of not being there for her, of not being good enough for her. In the end, he hadn't even thought of her. Pepper was his fiancée, the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry and grow old with. She should have been his first thought. But then he'd heard the quiet, "Mr. Stark? I don't feel so good," and his mind had latched onto the image of the frightened, tired child dying in his arms and had refused to let it go until he arrived back on Earth and remembered there were other people he had to lose, too.
And by then, it was too late. She was gone.
Pepper.
Peter.
Pepper.
Peter.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
And it was all his fault.
"Tony?"
A familiar voice broke through the fog in his head, quietened the anguished screaming he hadn't even realised was there. His sobs stalled, trapped halfway up his throat, unsure whether they should continue. Tony peeked out from the shirt still clutched to his chest, hardly daring to hope, because it couldn't be, she was gone, she hadn't returned his calls, she was gone...
And yet there she was, staring at him, rooted to the spot, hand frozen on the bedroom door handle.
It couldn't be her. It wasn't possible. It wasn't possible.
And yet there she was.
"Pepper?" Tony mumbled. He sat up slowly, body heavy, trying to pin him to the bed. One hand reached out for her hesitantly, as if he expected her to disappear, to be the next person to turn to dust right in front of his eyes. It wouldn't surprise him if she did. Tony Stark never got good things, and Pepper standing in their bedroom after everything was nothing less than a miracle.
Tony had always prided himself on his mind, his intelligence. If this was finally the thing to make him snap, to cause him to hallucinate, to damage his mind so much it could no longer be trusted, he would surely shatter.
But Pepper took a step forward, then another, and another, her own hand reaching out, shaking just as badly as his, and tangled their fingers together.
A hallucination wouldn't be able to touch him. He wouldn't be able to touch a hallucination.
Pepper.
"Pepper," Tony choked out. He dropped the shirt, reached out with his other hand, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him until she was practically in his lap. The fingers of Pepper's other hand threaded through his hair, stroking and scratching and soothing. Her shirt smelt like her fancy perfume and honey and her favourite peaches scented shampoo, and the smell was so familiar and comforting that it forced another sob out of him.
"Oh, Tony," Pepper's voice was shaky, but her grip on Tony was firm, fingers pressing into his scalp and running along the nape of his neck, her hand tightly squeezing his own.
"Pepper," Tony mumbled against her, the only word he felt capable of saying. He ran his hand along her back, trying to trace her spine through her shirt, and tried to squeeze her hand just as hard, although he was too weak and too tired to match her strength at that moment.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" Pepper demanded, the quiver in her voice giving away that she wasn't actually angry, no matter what her words suggested. "I couldn't get in touch with you at all, FRIDAY said she lost contact with the suit, and none of my calls or texts were reaching you…"
"I'm sorry," Tony whispered.
"And then everyone just started screaming and the next thing I knew people were turning to dust around me and I was getting calls from SI asking me what to do when I didn't even know what was going on-"
"I'm sorry-"
"And I tried calling you again but you still weren't picking up and I thought-" Pepper's voice cracked. "I thought you were dead, Tony. I didn't know where you were, when you would be coming back, I couldn't contact you, I thought you might have turned to dust like everyone else and I wouldn't even know-"
"I'm sorry," Tony choked out. "I didn't... I couldn't... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
She was trembling, Tony realised distantly. Shaking in his arms, unsteady fingers still running through his hair. She pressed a kiss against his head, ran her thumb over his knuckles, rested her forehead against his.
"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered.
"I'm sorry," he repeated softly. He didn't know what else to say.
They sat like that for a long time, holding each other, quietly reassuring themselves that they were alright, they were both there, safe, and whole, and alive. Pepper let go of his hand to wrap her arm around his shoulder, still cradling the back of his head. Tony curled his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, soaking in the warmth of her body that was finally, finally getting his shivers to die down.
Eventually, though, Pepper pulled away. Not completely, she didn't get off his lap, and she still kept her arms firmly wrapped around him, but Tony instantly missed the feeling of her pressed against him anyway.
"What happened, Tony."
It wasn't a question. He didn't want to answer. But Pepper deserved this much.
"I…" Tony stopped. Licked his dry lips, tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. The words were right there, on the tip of his tongue, a detailed account of everything that had happened since Strange had come through that portal.
"He got the kid," was what came out, instead.
Pepper's eyes softened almost instantly. "Oh, Tony."
"I didn't... he... I couldn't... I tried, Pep, I really did. I really, really tried to stop him, but I couldn't…" Tony squeezed his eyes shut. "I couldn't save him. He trusted me to protect him and I couldn't save him."
Pepper didn't say anything, didn't interrupt, didn't stop him to try and convince him that none of this was his fault. She just sat quietly and let him talk.
"I couldn't stop him." The words came faster, like a dam he hadn't realised was there had burst. "I tried, Pep, but I couldn't do it. Thanos, he... he had the Infinity Stones, he wanted the Time Stone, we were supposed to keep it from him. He wanted to destroy half of the universe, he said that if he got all the stones he just needed to snap his fingers and half of the universe would be erased. All we needed to do was keep the Time Stone safe, get that fucking gauntlet off of him, and we failed-"
Tony choked on a sob. Pepper just rubbed slow, steady circles into his shoulders.
"We failed." His shivering started up again. "We tried, but we failed. We lost. And the universe paid the price."
"Tony," Pepper whispered. The circles didn't stop.
"I tried, Pep, honest. I really, really wanted to keep that stone away from him, I tried my best, I promise, I promise I tried…"
"It's okay, Tony." Pepper gave his shoulders a small squeeze. "I believe you. I know you tried your best."
"It wasn't enough." His voice sounded small, defeated, broken. It was fitting. That was exactly how he felt. "I tried so, so hard, Pepper, but it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough."
"It's okay. I know you did everything you could."
No, he hadn't. He could have died there. Could have died from the stab wound, and then Strange might not have handed over the Time Stone, maybe then the universe would be safe, maybe then Peter wouldn't have...
"He died in my arms," Tony confessed quietly. He felt like crying, but he wasn't sure he had any tears left to shed. "He wasn't supposed to be there, he was supposed to be on a field trip with his class, he shouldn't have been there, he should have been with his aunt, I tried to send him home but he followed me anyway and I didn't notice until it was too late to go back-"
"Tony," Pepper said gently. "Breathe."
His chest felt like it was being crushed from the inside out, his already limited lungs felt like they were being constricted with a tight rubber band that got smaller with every second. The phantom pain in his chest throbbed and burned. He didn't feel like he had room to breathe. But he did it anyway, because Pepper had asked him to, and he'd disappointed enough people today.
"I couldn't save him. He knew something was wrong, he felt every second of it, he tried to fight it. He begged me to help him, he collapsed against me and pleaded with me to save him. Then he fucking apologised and... and…"
"I'm sorry, Tony." Pepper's voice was quiet. "I'm so, so sorry. I know how much you cared about him."
"I was supposed to protect him. He was just a kid. I was supposed to keep him safe, and I couldn't even do that."
Pepper didn't say anything, this time. Tony couldn't blame her. What was one supposed to say in response to a tragedy aimed so cruelly at someone as young as Peter?
"I couldn't even hold onto his ashes," Tony whispered. "They blew away before I could... I couldn't even bring him home. He was just a kid, he should have been at home, he should have been with his aunt, I should have brought him home."
"He had you," Pepper reminded him. "You didn't leave him. You stayed with him until the very end. I'm sure he appreciated it."
Tony took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's not fair."
"I know. It'll be okay."
"No it won't." Tony's hands curled into fists, scrunching up Pepper's shirt in their grip. "Why do I get to come home and he doesn't? He didn't deserve this. Of all the people who deserve this, he wasn't one of them."
Pepper was silent for a long moment, clearly thinking, before she finally found her words. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you came home."
Tony couldn't bring himself to agree. Every time he thought about that moment, all he could think was, it should have been me.
"I called you." Tony barely recognised his own voice. "When I got back, I called you. You weren't home, it's late, you're never this late home, so I called you, and you didn't pick up, it went straight to voicemail, and I thought-"
"Oh, Tony." Pepper sounded more than a little heartbroken.
Tony tightened his grip on Pepper's shirt. He expected his voice to tremble, but it didn't. It was just weary. "I thought he took you from me, too."
"I'm sorry, Tony." The fingers were back in his hair, stroking, soothing, trying to get him to relax. "I didn't know you'd called me. My phone... I've been swept off my feet trying to sort out the mess at SI all day, it must have died. I swear, if it was on, I would have picked up your calls."
Tony let out a long breath. He leaned into Pepper's touch, quietly reveling in the contact.
"I'm sorry I scared you," Pepper murmured, pressing another kiss to his forehead.
Tony pressed his face against her neck, eyes sliding shut. "You're here. You're alive. You're here."
"I'm here," Pepper said.
He breathed in her comforting scent, safety and love and home, and his hands loosened their grip just a little. "What about Happy? And Rhodey? Are they-"
"They're alive," Pepper said firmly. "They were two of the first people I called. They're okay, Tony. They're alive."
"And you're here," Tony mumbled.
"I'm here," Pepper promised. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
There were more things he had to do. He'd have to make a statement, tell the panicked and chaotic world exactly what had happened. He had to contact May Parker, tell her what had happened to her nephew, who he had failed to protect. He needed to decide on a next step, because there was no way he was going to let Thanos get away with what he'd done.
He'd probably have to contact the rest of the Avengers, probably have to ask Steve for help, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
But right now, he was tired. He was tired and cold and still feeling the lingering effects from his crying, from the mind gripping terror at the thought of losing Pepper. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep.
One of them - he wasn't quite sure who - lowered them so they were both lying on the bed, curled up on Pepper's side. Tony's limbs tangled with hers, her chin rested on the top of his head, her breaths puffed against his hair, and finally, finally, the tension he'd been carrying for what felt like years eased from his shoulders a little and he began to relax.
He had a million and one things to do, to apologise for, to fix. But he could do that later. Right now, all he had to do was finally sleep, secure in the knowledge that, against all odds, Pepper was safe and alive in his arms. And for now, that would have to be enough.