The very thing that's keeping you alive is killing you slowly
Later for the decision he was about to make. But if what Jarvis said was true, and he was dying, why not have a little fun? Why not live it up just because he could? So of course he got in the racecar, almost anticipating the argument he would have with Pepper later. She didn't know how alive she made him feel, she didn't know how much he craved their daily arguments. So he got in the car. He was just going to race around a few times, have some fun.
He was so stupid. So so stupid to think he might be able to actually live. So stupid.
And then that man had come and what had he been thinking he could have been killed. Pepper could have been killed. So many innocent lives could have been taken. What was that man doing anyway? What was he doing with a suit, a suit like his? There shouldn't be any other suits like his because only he knew the designs, who else had known them?
She was furious of course, furious with him furious with all his stupid ideas. But still, they got on the plane like nothing had happened, like he hadn't almost gotten killed. But almost getting killed was nothing new, it had happened before. Old news. Not important.
He suggested Venice. Europe. Good lord even France (though he hated the place.) Anywhere, anyplace but his home. He didn't want to have a party, he didn't want to see all those people staring up at him, laughing, smiling, and living. They didn't know what he was going through. They didn't know that their precious Iron Man was dying slowly. They didn't know that any day he could go to sleep and not get up, they didn't know that their protector, the one keeping world peace, would suddenly leave them.
She rejected his idea. "With everything going on, do you really think this is a good idea?" she asked with that patient smile. Seeing that I'm dying I think I should have a say. But instead he just gazed out of the window. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to tell her so badly. He always told her everything. But if he told her she would worry and fuss and he couldn't have that. He didn't want her to freak out, and knowing Pepper, she would freak out.
Rodie knew of course. He found him, slumped in one of his many cars, staring blankly up at something in front of him. He had to give the guy props, he hadn't panicked when he saw him, hadn't freaked when he was the "high-tech crossword puzzle" on his neck, and thankfully he didn't tell Pepper.
"If hypothetically, this was your last birthday, what would you do?" he asked the redhead softly, twisting the watch on his wrist. "I would do whatever I wanted to do with whoever I wanted to do it with."
All he wanted to do was go to Venice with Pepper. Maybe walk the streets and buy some of that delicious ice cream they had there. They would sit in a gondola and maybe- just maybe- he would finally work up the courage to kiss her.
But instead he got rip-roaring drunk, and not only got Pepper furious with him, but the American nation as a whole. He was sure Rodie knew why he was doing it, but his friend had his duty to America first, and Tony knew he was out of line knew that any second he could send a laser beam through somebodies head because that's how irresponsible he was. He could feel the poison seeping through his veins, even when he was drunk. He had hoped that maybe the alcohol would make it go away-
But it didn't.
He let Rodie take his suit. He knew that if he died, America would need that technology; need to be able to duplicate it. He wasn't stupid. He could have stopped Rodie if he wanted to, but what was the point? What there a point to anything anymore?
And then those people brought up his father and how dare they. How dare they remind him that they knew his own father better then he had, remind him that to everyone else his father was this amazing, funny person but to him he was just a man that was never home, a man that didn't care about his son. And did they think one video would make it all better? Sure it took some of the edge off, but really he couldn't have at least told him, as a young boy, that he loved him. He had gone through life craving affection, from anyone and look where that had gotten him.
But regardless he went to go get the city. He was desperate for a cure, and he didn't care where he found it. And then he saw the strawberries. There's something related to Pepper with these. But I don't know what it is. So he bought some. A stupid decision really, seeing of course she was allergic to them. But how was he supposed to know? She been your assistant for 6 years, you should know.
And he had come so close to telling her, so close. But he just didn't know how. He wasn't good at this kinda thing, the whole heartfelt feelings thing. And he was so fidgety was he always like this? Or was it the drugs kicking in? Why did that stupid windmill thing have to spin? He hated that thing. He remembered always seeing it in his father's office.
A young child peeked his head around the door, watching his father work, his head bent over the desk scribbling away furiously on paper. In front of the man was a toy, a new spiny thing that his father had put together. The boy wanted to look at it; he wanted to play with it. But as he sat, mesmerized by the never-ending turns, something funny grew in the pit of his stomach. Something bad. So when his father left eh room, the young boy ran forward and grabbed random objects to try and somehow stop the strange, unnatural spinning. Apparently, what he had grabbed had been something rather important and something he wasn't supposed to touch, and his afternoon once again ended with lectures.
And he was trying to tell her but he kept stuttering and now she wouldn't take him seriously and she was mad oh she was so so mad but she was always mad, always mad at him. But this wasn't the fun mad, this wasn't what he had always craved, this was different, this was scary and sad and made him feel all funny inside.
The double agent girl had come in and taken Pepper away, can't you see she's a fraud? He wanted to yell, but no one knew because she was good, she was very good, and she had successfully turned everyone against him. At least that's what he liked to think.
And his dad was a genius, smarter then Tony because how would he have known how to make blue energy? He was smart enough to discover it and he didn't even have the technology. Brushing aside and locking up his thoughts, he returned to work, creating, building, and destroying. Things he was good at. The only things he was good at. And he had made it, but then that phone call had came and once again his world was crashing around him, ringing in his ears because that man-the man who tried to hurt him, tried to kill him- was alive.
Every rational part of him screamed it wasn't possible, but he'd seen wilder. And he'd put the core in and oh god he'd never felt so alive so strong in his entire life. Never ever had he felt as good as he did now. The poison was receding he could feel it, feel it dissolving away into nothingness, he could feel his strength return and the core glowed it glowed like crazy lighting up the room and lighting him up, and when the glow faded he had more energy, more liveliness then he'd had in ages he thought he'd never feel this good again.
Of course there was a fight, there always was, but all he could focus on was getting to Pepper. While these things were out she wasn't safe- no one was. He got rid of them the best he could with one of his suits- his own suit- fighting him. He had thought he wasn't going to die when that electrical hard wrapped itself around him. One would think it was only the suit that was getting damaged, but he could feel the heat through the metal, he could feel it burning his flesh, he could feel his suit melting under the pressure, and he knew that if he got out of this- if he survived- there would be so many scars left from the heat.
And then the stupid things were bombs. He had almost been expecting something like that. Quite honestly, if the man had gone down without a fight he might have been disappointed. He knew that if he was a villain that was what would do, and he would have expected nothing less. That didn't mean he liked them though.
The only thing he could think about was Pepper, about how she was standing right next to one and if she died that he would never forgive himself, never ever never. She had to know there was something wrong; she had to know that it was about to blow up. He could see the confusion on her face he could see it turn to understanding and then full fledged horror as she realized what was going to happen. And just that one, he did what she had always forbid him from doing, he scooped her up and shot into the sky ignoring her terrified screams as flames erupted under them, reaching up for them, beckoning them back, wanting to claim what it had lost, what had slipped out of it's grasp.
And she was crying and pacing and he wasn't sure whether it was from anger, relief or just from being absolutely scared out of her wits or maybe a mix of the three. All he wanted to do was sit there and hug her and explain to her why he hadn't told her, why he had been acting to strange. But then she announced that she was resigning and all he wanted to do was kiss her because that's why he loved her he loved her irrational decisions and how she denied them later, he loved her quirkiness and her attitude that could rival his and he didn't know how he would cope if she left she just couldn't and somehow he knew she was just talking out of her ass, that she was just nervous but when had they gotten so close he could count every freckle on her nose, each eyelash, her eyes were so blue- had they always been that blue?
And then he was kissing her and it was like a little bit of heaven, he could feel her lean into him and he wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush her with his suit. She was so warm and she smelled like vanilla and the funny thing was she tasted like strawberries.
And for once in his life he felt right, he felt complete, he felt like he'd done what he was supposed to. They could just block out the world right now, because all that mattered was her.