Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story, believe me-if I did-I'd be chilling in the Caymans right now and not writing fanfiction.
Tony pushes their bedroom door with his foot, peering in to find Pepper curled up on the bed, which was pushed up against the window, as she read a thick book while the rain slammed against the house. Her hair is up in a ridiculously messy bun and she's wearing a tiny pair of grey, soft sleep shorts and one of his burgundy MIT shirts.
"Hey," she says quietly, putting her book down as he enters, studying his face closely before noticing the two cups of hot chocolate in his hands and a bag of marshmallows under his arm. "What's wrong?"
"I can't sleep." He doesn't try to hide it or elaborate, making the statement purposefully simple enough that she doesn't feel the need to ask more questions. He begins to get on the bed too, practically feeling her tension as she watches the hot chocolate get dangerously close to the edge of the mug. He settles next to her, back against the cold window, and she sets her book down; a French paperback copy of Anna Karenina.
"Thanks," she says as he hands her the mug, waiting a beat to give her the bag of marshmallows.
Hot chocolate, over the course of their nearly two decades together, had kind of become their thing. He brought it to her one night, when she had been working for him for exactly fifty-seven days, thus making her his longest lasting PA, as a welcome-and-thanks-for-staying gift of sorts and he'd learned how much she loved it then. Her favorite was dark chocolate Swiss Miss with an ungodly amount of marshmallows and it had to be made with warm milk-never water. It was a comfort drink that was warm and filling and gave her a brief sugar high. She didn't drink coffee after 6 pm and she rarely ever drank alcohol but she liked a hot drink and hot chocolate checked all the boxes and Tony liked it because it was loaded with sugar.
And because Pepper liked it.
Mainly because Pepper liked it.
"What've you been doing?" She asks, placing her long, smooth tan leg between his. He meets her eyes, noticing how little makeup she's wearing and how many freckles he can see. She looks good; well-rested, at ease, healthy.
"Tinkering," he says vaguely, his hand resting on her thigh, thumb absentmindedly drawing circles there.
"With what?" Her voice is soft and her concerned blue eyes search his face, knowing him all too well.
"The suits-the calibration-the sensors-" He cuts himself off with a sigh, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. "I don't know what to do anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm having a problem with-I don't know where to go with them-they need upgrades but I don't...know what to do."
She gives him a gentle, reassuring smile, saying, "You'll figure it out, Tony. You always do."
"Maybe now," he says heavily, watching her as she pokes at the marshmallows, using a spoon to eat them. "I'll figure something out but I-it...there'll be a time when I stop having new ideas."
"Tony, your genius will never run out." She sounds so confident in her words, as if she genuinely believes in him that much, and he can only watch her as she drinks her hot chocolate, wondering what the hell he ever did to deserve her. She was an angel-everything he never knew he needed and everything he knew he shouldn't get. People who could see past their cliche boss/employee dynamic always said "I never imagined them together" and they didn't say it because Tony and Pepper didn't get along; anyone who spent five minutes with them knew she was an infinitesimally greater person than him. She was so loving and intelligent and empathetic and caring and nurturing and perfect while he was an egotistical, aloof, womanizing asshole. She looks over at him suddenly, realizing he's staring at her, and a little grin adorns her lips. "What?"
"I love you," he says, softly, tilting his head down at her, raising his eyebrows. "You know that, right?"
"Yes, Tony," her smile is nearly shy, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. "I love you, too."
He leans forward for a kiss but she pulls back right before their lips touch, teasing him with a little devilish grin, "Don't you dare spill my hot chocolate."
"I'll make you a new cup," he breathes, kissing her anyway, losing his hands in her hair and tongue with hers. She tastes like chocolate and marshmallows and is so unbelievably warm and comforting that he hates himself a little for knowing he can't find a way to stop time and live in this moment for the rest of his life. Just him and Pepper and no one else, like this-forever. He could live with that.
When her hand begins running through his curls, tugging him closer, he sighs, slowing the kiss down until he pulls away, watching her eyes flutter open in worry and confusion.
"Tony," she begins, but he kisses her again, recognizing that concerned, almost maternal tone that could get him to talk about anything. "Tony-stop," she pulls back, searching his face, brushing a strand of his hair that had fallen down on his forehead away. "What's wrong, honey?"
"I-" He puts his cup of hot chocolate on his nightstand, sighing heavily as he tries to sort his thoughts into words, turning back to her. "There's no…" He drops his head on her shoulder, settling into her side like a little kid clinging to their mother after a nightmare. "I have too much on my mind, Pep."
She doesn't say anything for a minute, continuing to drink her hot chocolate and play with his hair, her nails gently running against his scalp and he relaxes into her touch, now understanding why she loved it when he played with her hair. It was comforting, lulling him into relaxation, and he wondered if it felt the same when he did it to her, if-
"Try to explain it," she says, stilling her hand for a second before she presses a lingering kiss to his forehead.
"It's all for nothing," he says hollowly, slipping a hand under his shirt that she's wearing, wanting to touch her for comfort and nothing more. He needed comfort and simple skin-on-skin contact was enough for him at the moment. "I can-the team and I-we can save the world one day but...give it two weeks and a new threat is there. We...it's useless. We won't ever be safe, you won't ever be safe, I...from the moment I started Iron Man in that goddamn cave, I stopped being safe." If Pepper is at all affected by his words, scared or otherwise, she doesn't let it show-remaining quiet as he continues to talk through the thoughts keeping him awake at night, rambling on about his fears. "I'm going to die, Pep. It could be tomorrow, it could be in fifty years but I'm going to die and this-" he taps at the glowing arc reactor "-will all have been for nothing. It doesn't matter when it happens, it wouldn't matter whether I'm here right now or not. Good people are working hard to save the world but bad people just work so much fucking harder."
Her initial response to his midlife crisis speech is her setting down her empty hot chocolate mug, the soft thud of it the only sound besides the pouring rain.
"Tony," her voice is soothing, so unbelievably soothing that he's able to shut his eyes peacefully for the first time in months. "Your life will never amount to just 'nothing.' You...you don't see it, but you've got a place in the world and history forever. You're…" her voice is tight and her fingers begin to play with his hair again. "Of all the things you are, worthless will never be one of them."
"I can't keep you safe," his voice is soft, nearly a whisper, as he confesses his worst fear. "I want to protect you-if it was up to me, I swear to God, you'd be in a bunker on some remote island right now, Pepper-but that's not...it won't matter. I can accept the fact that I might die because of who I am, but I can't accept the-I can't accept that you might die because of me."
Her silence is both encouraging and not; her steady heartbeat under his ear and the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the rain pouring outside were calming, easing him into a half-asleep state but he wanted reassurance, he wanted to know he was being irrational, that she would always be safe, that no one would ever target her because of him.
They both knew that wasn't true, though.
"Tony, listen to me," she says, surely. "I am more than willing to deal with the fact that one of us might die too soon."
"I couldn't live without-"
"I'm not saying it would be easy, I-but there's nothing in the world that could make up for us; it would hurt like hell to lose you but nothing-nothing, Tony, you hear me?-could be better than this." She makes a gesture around the room but he gets that she's talking about their entire relationship and he holds her a little tighter, fingers casually grazing the skin of her abdomen, not sure what he'd do without her.
"Your life would be-"
"No it wouldn't. It wouldn't-can't-get any better. My life is at its highest point, has been since we started this and it will be until it ends, because of you, Tony. I love you so much it's infuriating." He can hear the smile in her voice and he wants to cry; he's exhausted, he's terrified, he's...him and that's all she wants. "You were, and always will be, the greatest thing that's ever happened to me, Mr. Stark."
His mouth goes dry and tears prick his eyes at those words, reminding him of his father's "What is, and always will be, my greatest creation is you."
Maybe it was him with the issues-maybe he worried too much, maybe the threats that seemed imminent weren't so serious, maybe he and Pepper would be fine, maybe he was overthinking everything. But there was the lingering thought that-
"I can't stop thinking," he says tiredly, pressing a light kiss to her neck. "I haven't slept in...ages, I can't stop worrying. I can't lose you, Pepper, I can't."
"You need sleep, Tony," she says, shifting slightly so he can rest on her.
"I can't sleep. I dream-" he stops, not wanting to tell her that he sees her in his nightmares, her dying thousands of ways, screaming, begging, pleading for him to save her and he can't do a damn thing because his twisted mind wanted him to feel helpless in his sleep. "I lose you every time I close my eyes."
"I'll be right here when you wake up," she assures.
"I can't ever...I won't ever rest peacefully. I'm-the realization of your own mortality is terrifying." She hums in agreeance, the sound vibrating her chest. "I don't want to outlive you and I don't want to leave you alone, Pepper, and it's all I can think of-I can't rest."
"I'm here, Tony, you can rest here."
"I-" He cuts himself off when she kisses his temple, her hand holding the side of his face.
"Just try to-" she meets his eyes, pleading "-for me? It's not easy watching you this worried and it's not-I worry, too, you know. I don't want you running off on some mission when you've only slept for five hours in three days. Please try to rest."
"Okay," he responds quietly, giving in, knowing he'll wake up in a cold sweat in a few hours from a nightmare, and knowing he can't escape the inevitability of death-he was trapped in life but at least for the moment, he's trapped in it with Pepper.
"I promise we'll talk more when you're awake," she picks up the book she'd been reading, opening to whatever page she had left off on and he watches her for a few minutes.
Her eyes scan each line quickly, breezing through pages of the book in a few minutes-her ability to read and retain information so fast was of her greatest skills. He thinks it's cute the way her lips purse and eyebrows furrow when she comes across a word she doesn't know, or sentence framing she doesn't recognize, and has to pause to sound it out, saying it slowly to herself until she understands whatever she previously didn't. He had only learned she spoke French a couple years ago and had no idea she was so proficient at it-she had an entire bookshelf dedicated to books printed in French and they weren't your typical easy reads, either. Sometimes he wished he could speak a different language because it seemed so complicated, so complex; learning how to adjust to an entirely new set of grammar rules and conjugations and vocabulary-it took a brilliant mind to learn a language that they hadn't been raised speaking to the level that Pepper had learned French. She-
"You know, in order to go to sleep, you typically have to close your eyes," she remarks lightly, glancing down at him for a second, her concern evident.
"Read to me."
"What?"
"Your book-read it to me," he says, closing his eyes as he rests his head in the nape of her neck.
"Do you want me to translate it? I-have you read this? I'm close to the end so it'd be hard to explain everything that-"
"No, don't translate it, just read it," he pauses, adding as he pulls her closer to him, "please."
"Ces deux hommes se tenaient de si près, qu'ils se devinaient rien qu'au son de la voix; la même pensée les abordait en ce moment, et primait tout: la maladie de Nicolas et sa mort prochaine."
He has absolutely no idea what she's saying, nor does he particularly care, because her voice is like a soporific that worked within seconds-he could feel himself slipping, the haze of sleep beginning to grab at him as he lay there, content. She rests her head on top of his, voice getting softer as she feels him drifting off.
"Ni l'un ni l'autre n'osait y faire la moindre allusion, et ce qu'ils disaient n'exprimait nullement ce qu'ils éprouvaient. Jamais Levine ne vit approcher avec autant de soulagement le moment de se coucher. Jamais il ne s'était senti aussi faux, aussi peu naturel, aussi mal à l'aise. Tandis que son cœur se brisait à la vue de ce frère mourant, il fallait…"
He dreamt of nothing that night-and nothing was a good thing.
Disclaimer 2: I don't speak French, I copy and pasted that last bit from a pdf version of Anna Karenina I found online. I have no idea if it's right/what it says. I made Pepper speak French because Gwyneth Paltrow speaks French. Have a lovely day :)