A/N: Disclaimer - I do not own The Avengers or any of its characters; all rights go to Marvel.
There were a lot of things that could have been distracting – doctors dressed in long, white lab coats bustling about; bright lights; the sounds of murmuring people. But Tony didn't even notice any of it. His mind was zeroed in on one thing, and one thing only: Pepper. She was the reason it was so impossibly agonizing to put one foot in front of the other, yet at the same time she was the motivation that was propelling him forward. The conflicting feelings of relinquishment and determination exhausted him and made him feel like just collapsing right where he stood. It was almost too much for him to bear.
At one point as he was sprinting through the too-white halls of the hospital, Tony nearly knocked over a little kid and a nurse.
"Sir, you need to slow down!" the nurse called after him. Tony barely even heard her – all he could think about was the fact that his Pepper might be dying. This realization sent a ripping pain through his chest, entirely different from the constant discomfort his arc reactor brought him.
Tony bounded up a lengthy set of stairs two at a time, not having the patience to wait for an elevator, and ran down another hallway. He could see Bruce, Natasha, and Steve conversing in hushed voices outside of what must have been Pepper's room. Natasha was the first to notice him coming. She stopped talking and looked up, her stance suddenly tense. Steve too assumed a braced posture. Bruce was the only one who seemed more nervous and less willing to appear assertive.
"Stark –" Steve started, but Tony strode up to him vehemently, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and slammed him against the wall. Bruce jumped in alarm.
"What the hell happened?!" Tony screamed, his face just inches from Steve's. The soldier's eyes were wide with surprise. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Natasha make a reflexive move in his direction, no doubt about to use her freakishly unnatural strength and skill to throw him halfway down the hall.
"Easy," Bruce said in a warning yet calm tone, speaking more to Tony than to Natasha. Tony hesitated for a second before releasing his grip on Steve, shoving him a little bit as he did so. The fabric of Steve's shirt was scrunched up, but he didn't care to smooth it out. He only stared at Tony. The flash of shock had quickly vanished, and his expression was now hard-set and cold – a blatant contrast to Tony's blazing eyes.
Tony turned towards Bruce. His mind was racing as he recalled the events that had occurred just minutes ago. The first thing he remembered was the five of them – Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Pepper, and himself – sitting at a little café in Los Angeles, discussing matters regarding SHIELD. The next thing he remembered was them receiving an urgent message from Director Fury that an unexpected army of aliens were headed straight for the city. Tony had suited up and yelled at the others to stay back and protect Pepper, which had made Bruce freeze mid-transformation. He'd then sped off to handle the situation, fighting a short but intense battle as the city was attacked. The next thing he knew, as he was examining the aftermath of the fight, Tony had received a call from Steve saying that Pepper was in the hospital. That's when his world froze and was violently wrenched upside-down.
"Explain," Tony demanded. His face twisted with rage and trepidation.
"We did all that we could," Bruce said cautiously. His voice was low and unwavering, his eyes were begging for forgiveness. "We were running for cover when one of the aliens directly targeted her. Rogers and Romanoff tried to hold them off while I let... the other guy... take over to fight them, but –"
Tony interrupted him, deciding he did not want to hear anyone's stupid excuses. "Is she going to be okay?" He was struggling to keep his voice steady.
There was an excruciating silence that seemed to drag out forever. No one answered him. In that moment, someone could have cut the tension with a knife.
"Tell. Me. Now." Each word was sharp, and accented with increasing hysteria as fear began to overwhelm him.
"We don't know," Natasha finally replied quietly.
Tony's heart both dropped in desolation and flamed in anger. Pepper might not make it. And it was their fault.
Natasha was staring down at the ground when she said this, and this for some reason infuriated Tony. He wanted her to look him in the eye and speak directly to him. Was she too weak to say it to his face? Was she too scared to even glance at him, because she knew she was to blame for Pepper's pain, and for his? Was she really going to shy away from the guilt? How could an agent like her take on anything that was thrown at her, but then lack strength to confront responsibility like this head-on?
"She underwent surgery in the emergency room and then was transferred here. From what we know, her conditions are pretty rough."
Tony's hands tightened into fists. "How could you let this happen?" he growled through clenched teeth.
Before anyone could respond or even react to his accusation, the door to Pepper's room opened. A short, balding doctor stood in the threshold clutching a clipboard. "You are free to see her now," he told them, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. "She's still sleeping – the drugs from her surgery haven't quite worn off yet, and she needs lots of rest in order to heal – but you're welcome to come in. Just be sure not to disturb anything." With that, he slipped past the group of superheroes and walked away, his footsteps becoming less and less audible every second.
Everyone lingered behind to let Tony go in first. A pang that was unlike the previous ache seized his chest as he laid his eyes on Pepper. His breath caught, and his heart faltered. At first glance, she did not look too badly hurt. But when Tony got a closer look, he recognized the extent of her injuries and realized the suffering that she had endured. Her face was pale and scratched up, and he could see the pain etched into her features. There was a gash that started at the tip of her collarbone and continued until it disappeared underneath her hospital gown. Her wrist was in a splint, and Tony could just make out the bandages that were wrapped around her stomach. Attached to her were an IV and a heart monitor.
"Pepper," he whimpered, unable to form coherent thoughts.
Tony didn't realize the others were standing beside him until Natasha spoke. He flinched involuntarily at the sound. Natasha's voice was soft and sincere, but not betraying any traces of sadness or worry. She'd been trained not to give away emotions, and to never appear vulnerable. Again, Tony was for some reason irritated by her.
"I'm so sorry," she said.
Suddenly Tony's head hurt, and his body was weak and shaky. He didn't know what to feel anymore. The adrenaline, the anger, the guilt, the fear, and the sadness had all disappeared and left him completely drained. He stayed there in the room even after everyone else left, kneeling by Pepper's bed and holding her cold hand. The only sound was the steady beeps of the heart monitor. The somewhat irrational fear that it might suddenly falter and become a long, continuous tone made him uneasy; he found himself watching the rise and fall of Pepper's chest to make sure her breathing remained even. He wanted to talk to her, but he didn't know what to say, and she couldn't hear him anyway. So instead he sat in silence.
After about twenty minutes or so, the same doctor came in and told Tony that he had to leave. Tony wanted to stay, to be there when she woke up. Normally he would have flat-out refused to obey the order, but right now he didn't have any fight left in him. The doctor suggested he go home and rest, but Tony ignored him. He didn't even go to find somewhere comfortable to sit in the hospital; he slid down to his knees against the wall outside her room and waited there until he was allowed back in. There was no way he was leaving her side ever again.
