Nudiustertian
Though she has nothing but contempt for the (memory of?) the man who said it, Pepper does have to accept the truth of the statement: There is a part of Tony that never left Afghanistan. Prayers and tears and unbelievably joyous reunion aside, she didn't really get him back.
Though she adores the man she has now, with a passion that is fierce and terrifying; though she is utterly - almost mindlessly, she fears - devoted to him, she cannot take joy in everything that he is. Not because of his failings - she actually somewhat enjoys most of those. Pepper could never be as rude or as vain or as selfish as he is. It's fun to live vicariously through him. It's gratifying to have a man of his mental acumen and unparalleled arrogance find her impossibly brilliant and worth deferring to. His drinking is distressing, but he plies her with spectacular vintages, so even that has its upsides.
Pepper knows this man, as he is now, is the product of a harrowing experience. No matter how well he hides it, Tony was left broken and traumatized. She can't love him completely because of this thing that made him. He will never be whole again. He left a part of himself behind, in a cave.
Tony likes to make jokes, to misdirect people when they get too close to him. Pepper never expected him to share a lot of himself, at least not for a long while. While he cushioned it in teasing and playfulness, Tony has told her so much about his time in captivity. Pepper can't picture it, not really. She could never do it justice in her mind. She doesn't particularly want to try.
She pictures their lives together in eras, long moments that blend together and define them.
Today, he loves her. He stumbled in execution, so badly that she barely noticed it was happening, but Tony courted her, fought to build something with her. He forgets they are a team, because he's so used to flying solo - and anyway, he doesn't play well with others. But he's willing to try.
That's what defines him today. He wants to try. He wants to build things that are real; relationships and teams and the ideas that will save the world.
Yesterday, he was gone.
For Pepper, he was defined by absence. The empty place in her life where someone who was bigger than she could ever be used to reside.
The day before yesterday, he was absent-minded and irresponsible. Accountability was not so much a concept in his life. He was wasteful. He used people. He was brilliant and charming and charismatic. He was passionate about charity and idolized heroes - fire fighters, military men. He loved attention, but hated to be honored for what he did. He was no hero and he knew it. He honestly believed he could end war if he made it scary enough. There was an idealism in him that hadn't been stamped out by years of building bombs or signing invoices.
Pepper loved him then. Loved his ready smile and his mirthful jealousy. She respected his convictions; she'd never been as comfortable in her beliefs as he was in his. She marveled in his artistry, his creative impulse and his collection.
Pepper loved him yesterday, and she loves him today - she is fiercely and terrifyingly devoted to him, is possessed of an unquenchable passion - she would never ask him to be anyone else. She would not ask him to be kinder because sometimes harsh gets the job done. But she does miss the man he used to be. Pepper does wish he could be whole again, untouched by suffering and trauma. She wishes he could have lived a full life in which he was never, even for the briefest second, tortured. She spits on the memory of the man that took that took that from him.
Today, he is a hero. Tony finds the label ludicrous, but that's how Pepper knows it's accurate. He's never hesitated to sacrifice himself. He's building a better tomorrow - it's almost here.
Sometimes, Pepper forgets it isn't yesterday anymore. She wakes up in bed alone and thinks he's gone. She has to shake off her dreams before she's awake enough to remember that he's just an early riser. She checks to make sure that he's safe and happy in his lab - and he always is.
Sometimes, Pepper forgets it isn't the day before yesterday anymore. Something in his smile, or the way he holds his head up will give her deja vu. Sometimes, the way he cries her name - Miss Potts - in bed comes straight from her decade-old fantasies. Something always breaks the illusion. The new Tony has enough humility to be startled when she admitted to years of desire.
And sometimes, she wonders what tomorrow will bring.
Disclaim, disclaim.