Pepper is giving him that look. It says my-God-you-are-exasperating-stop-doing-this-I-am-so-done-with-you.
"I need you."
A wild hope springs up inside him. He almost stumbles over his words in his eagerness to express his similar feelings towards her. Maybe she's speaking the truth. Maybe he'll be able to fix this deep shit he's gotten himself into. Because, if she's backing him, he can do practically anything. They are a damn good team.
"I need you, too, Pepper. That's what I was trying to s..."
That is when he realizes that she hadn't finished her sentence at "you."
"To leave right now," she concludes pointedly.
Oh. Well, that hurts, surprisingly. He gives a long sniff and feels uncharacteristically awkward. This isn't exactly going the way he had hoped. It was probably irrational, but he had kind of thought she would jump at the chance to reconcile. Apparently, he'd been wrong. And God that hateful weight-windmill-thing is still spinning.
Pepper's chair scrapes loudly against the floor as she stands up.
"Now, Tony, if you could just..."
He glares at his fingers.
"Yeah," he cuts in quickly. "Yeah, I'm going."
He snatches the stupid box of strawberries that she's allergic to (since when is anyone allergic to strawberries anyway?) and stalks to the door. The arc reactor in his chest is hurting him again. It's probably time to change the palladium. He groans internally because everything is such a pain now. No one really appreciates the simple things in life until they're gone. Typical.
When he touches the door handle, something inside him just stops. He can't leave without telling her. Maybe he'll die anyway, but she'll hate him forever if he keeps this a secret. Even after kicking the bucket, he wouldn't want to face the wrath of Pepper Potts.
She's pretending to shuffle through a stack of papers and doesn't meet his gaze. Ah. So she'd felt uncomfortable too. He's glad to note he wasn't the only one.
Crash! They both jump at the same time. The box of strawberries is on the floor where Tony's limps hands dropped it. Pepper sighs wearily, just a little, but it instantly makes him feel guilty. He has been the cause of most of her problems after all. He hates feeling guilty. And he hates apologizing, too. So, as usual, he takes the reckless way out and drops the bombshell on her.
"Pepper, I'm dying."
Oops. Maybe that wasn't the best way to break it to her. She just stands there and stares. And stares. And stares some more. Silently. He's actually starting to feel a little anxious.
"Um... I'm not sure if you're getting what I sai..."
He stops when he hears her laugh. Well. Glad to know she isn't going to be missing her old boss. It's touching, it really is. Then he realizes that it was one of the breathy, disbelieving laughs that some people (a group of individuals that now includes the recently appointed CEO of Stark Industries) make when they're in shock.
"That's funny, Tony. It really is. Now, I have a lot on my plate right now and I really need to..."
He ignores her little speech and continues. He has to explain.
"It's the palladium in my chest. It's toxic. I've been able to control the levels in my blood stream to some extent, but not for much longer. That's why I keep acting... stupid. Juvenile. Why I got drunk at the party - which I am sorry for, by the way - and drove my own race car." His lip quirks, but he doesn't feel very cheerful at all. He shakes his head. "I guess I just wanted to live life. I don't have much time left, Pep."
"Don't be silly, Tony."
But the shock is fading and she is starting to look frightened. He plows on.
"That's why I made you CEO. And, let me tell you, you're doing a great job. Fantastic, actually. Better on your worst day than me on my best. I..."
"Stop, Tony! Stop!"
He does. She is gripping the glass desk tightly with both hands and breathing hard. Striding over to her quickly, he gently pushes her down into her chair and pours her a glass of brandy. She doesn't even sip it. The cup tips in her fingers before he can catch it and half of the liquor pours out. What a waste of brandy, really. Or it would have been, but nothing is a waste if it's for Pepper (he's turning into such a major sap). He watches her carefully for a few minutes and waits for color to return to her face.
She stands up and carefully undoes the top four buttons of his shirt. Normally, he would have made some kind of crude remark, but now he simply holds his breath and stares at her face. She winces when she sees the veins full of blue toxins that fan out from the middle of his chest.
"You're really dying?"
Her voice shakes. He doesn't trust himself to answer, so he merely nods, once.
"Oh, Tony… there must be a cure.. an antidote... something."
He shrugs. Suddenly she shakes her head and steps away.
"You've given up," she says accusingly. "You're just going to let it happen, aren't you? You aren't even going to try to find a cure!"
Her voice rises with each syllable she utters. His temper flares. It isn't as though he's eager to die. He really isn't.
"You think I haven't tried? I've tried every single combination of elements to find a replacement for palladium. Nothing works!"
"You're a genius!" she exclaims, poking him in the chest. He winces. "Do something! Use your magnificent, stupendous, superior brain and save yourself. I won't let you go."
He looks at her angry, anxious, determined expression and, all of a sudden, he feels much better about everything. She's one of the most stubborn people he's ever met. If she won't let him go, he won't be able to.
He grins, feeling about twenty times lighter.
"All right," he says, breezy again. "Whatever you say, Pepper. Got a plan?"
