She hadn't even known he was sick. He never told her. He never told anyone.

Fury and Natalie had known. Pausing, Pepper shook her head. Not Natalie. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. She'd been a mole at Stark Industries, monitoring Tony and formulating some kind of a report for a SHIELD initiative…

Not that it mattered anymore. Where Tony was, he wouldn't be of much use to them.

Tony Stark was lying in a coffin, and his PA was standing, shaky limbed and teary-eyed, over him with tissues clutched in her hands. The private viewing was painfully small. Tony had no family left. The only people who had been close enough to him to be allowed in were James Rhodes, Happy Hogan, and Pepper.

Rhodey attempted to stay as placid and strong as possible as he and Happy stood on the sidelines, watching as Virginia Potts said her goodbyes. Both men knew this was going to be harder on her than any of them. The woman had spent nearly every waking moment of the past eleven years of her life with Anthony Stark; scolding him, ushering him where he was needed, worrying about him, laughing with him. She should have told him more often how proud she actually was of him; of everything he'd done since he returned from being kidnapped.

Secretly, a part of Pepper had begun to think her boss was invincible when he returned from such a hopeless situation. They'd all thought he was dead; gone for good. While the rival companies popped champagne and toasted to the loss of the great Tony Stark, Pepper sat, and slept, in his Malibu home, awaiting his return. She'd known it was likely that he'd never walk through that door again, but a part of her was refusing to believe it. She had to hold on, because she was all Tony had. If she didn't care enough to wait for him, who would?

It had paid off. When he stepped off that plane, it had taken all of her willpower to not run to him as she fought back the joyous tears in her eyes. From that moment on, nothing could ever take Tony Stark away from her again. He was indestructible. He'd lived through the impossible over and over as Iron Man; he couldn't die. He wouldn't die. She'd die long before he did.

She'd been horribly, horribly wrong.

Leave it to Tony to fail to mention that the very thing keeping him alive was also killing him. She'd been terrified when it happened. He'd just showed up at her office, his old office, and begun to apologize for the way he behaved on his birthday when he keeled over, clutching his chest. She hadn't found out about the palladium poisoning from the arc reactor until the coroners confirmed it late that night, when Anthony Edward Stark was pronounced dead.

He couldn't be dead. He was Tony Stark. He couldn't just… die. He was too smart to die. She'd expected him to invent some miracle cure that could bring people back from the dead by now, so he'd live forever.

Why hadn't he invented it sooner?

Taking a deep breath when he saw Pepper on the verge of a hysterical breakdown, Rhodey walked up and stood beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"You meant the world to him, you know," he stated, and she choked on a sob, muffling the sound in her tissues. "He'd always gloat to the boys that he had the best assistant in the business, and then tell them you'd skin him if he gave another demonstration instead of going to the meeting you told him to be at."

"Yet he always ended up being a solid hour late anyway…" she said brokenly, clutching her tissues tightly in her fist as she bit down on her lips to repress the strangled sob threatening to break free.

"He knew it bugged you," Rhodey informed her, smiling the faintest of smiles. "He thought you were pretty when you were pissed at him."

Squeezing her eyes shut, her sobs escaped and she shook her head rapidly. "I was awful to him," she said brokenly, practically hyperventilating. "He tried to apologize to me… for his birthday…! But I told him the damage was done, and to just… just go… and then he collapsed…"

"Pepper, you can't beat yourself up about it-"

"Don't," she choked out, shaking her head. "Don't call me that. Don't call me Pepper. He gave me that nickname… and now he's gone… so she is, too. Pepper Potts died when he did."

Taking a breath, Rhodey pulled his arm back, shaking his head as he walked back over to Happy. Without a word, they left Pepper alone. She needed a few minutes to sort everything out… get some closure, hopefully. Both men knew she couldn't say what was really on her mind with them there.

Pepper was quiet but for her sobs, and she could barely stand to look down at Tony, completely emotionless and cold. He never looked like that. It was just a painful reminder that he was dead. People liked to say that he just looked like he was asleep, as if that would comfort them. But it was a lie. At least it was a lie with Tony. Even in sleep, he either had a look of concentration on his face, or a goofy grin sprawled across it. He was adorable either way. Right now he just looked dead.

"It was pretty dumb of you, you know," she finally managed to say shakily, closing her eyes as if it would help her picture the philanthropist in front of her, alive and well, only half-listening to her words as he always did, "Not telling me. I could have helped you, Tony, you know that. You always seemed to think you were alone in this… but you weren't. I'm not talking about Rhodey, or Happy, or even SHIELD. I'm talking about me, dammit!"

Tears slipping down her cheeks, the imaginary Tony in her head looked up from his tablet, finally giving her the attention she craved from him as she unconsciously reached down to wrap her fingers around his terrifyingly cool, limp hand.

"I was always there," she whispered, her voice, and body, trembling. "Every second of every day for the past eleven and a half years, I was there for you. Whether I was getting you your coffee or yelling at you for skipping appointments, I was always beside you. I wasn't just your stupid assistant, Tony; I was your friend. You were my friend."

Trembling, tears fell more quickly down Pepper's cheeks, and her voice was barely a broken whimper when she spoke again. "You… you were my best friend."

Sniffling, she forced herself to open her eyes and vanquish the nonexistent Tony Stark from her head, focusing on the real one she was staring down at. She couldn't breathe. It hurt to look at him, knowing he would never wake up and sass her ever again. He'd never be late for another meeting, or tell her how nice her ass looked in a pencil skirt.

Tony Stark was gone, and it was the worst feeling in the world.

Why did it have to be pain so intense that finally pushed her to throw the truth out there?

"I love you," she stated with heartbreak, sniffling again as she fought back more tears. Tony wouldn't want her to cry. He'd always hated it when she cried. When she started working for him as his PA, she'd been horribly insulted by one of the people who worked in her old secretarial office.

"She only got the job because he wants to sleep with her. She probably will; the little slut. Didn't I tell you about those high shoes of hers? They're trademark slut material."

The bitter woman was fired within the day when Tony found Pepper crying in one of the empty conference rooms. Whether she admitted it out loud or not, Tony Stark was her hero long before he suited up and became everyone else's.

"I love you, so much, Tony… you weren't supposed to die on me," she whimpered with a shake of her head, clutching his hand tighter. "I was supposed to confess how I felt, and then we were supposed to do all that stupid couply stuff that we both hate, but I think might have been okay if it was with you, because you always made everything okay…"

She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't help it. She was slipping into a panic as the truth of the situation became all too real.

"You're all I have," she finished breathlessly, her voice squeaking as it cracked.

But as hard as she tried to will it to happen, Tony Stark didn't open his eyes.

She learned the most awful of lessons that day. Even heroes weren't immortal, and because of it, Pepper Potts lost the one person who completed her, and thus lost a piece of herself.

She'd never be Pepper Potts ever again. She was just Virginia; a broken girl who'd lost everyone she ever loved, and never told them enough that she loved them.