Maybe it's because I have a funeral to go to tomorrow, and it's making me sensitive to my own mortality right now (I don't know about you, but that's what happens to me in these instances). And it doesn't help that Halloween is fast approaching. And where I am, the mornings have been heavily blanketed in thick fog, adding a lot of eeriness to the atmosphere ( I do my writing in the early morning, mostly). But I felt the need to write this very dark little fic (as I've never written one for Halloween before). It'll be a few chapters only, just FYI.
At first glance, you'd think I was breaking my own rule about never breaking apart our couple without some kind of satisfying resolve (and, to be honest, I almost thought I was, too.) But stick with it. You'll see where I'm going with this. Just hear me out...
Happy Halloween!
(P.S.- if you need a little mood music while you read, might I suggest Adele's new one, "Hello"? I listened to it non-stop as I wrote this. It's a VERY haunting song, no Halloween pun intended!)
;)
He stood across the room from her, watching her as she gazed silently out of the living room window, the rain falling heavily outside. It was another crisp fall day, and the view to the ocean was obstructed by the fog drifting in wafts out to sea. The fire in the fireplace was softly crackling, but the warmth of it escaped him. And her, too, by all accounts, as he watched her shiver and re-wrap her gray,floor-length cardigan sweater around her body, folding her arms tightly against her. It was an all too familiar scene for the both of them. And one he wished he could escape. But here they were, yet again, doing the same dance, and having to relive the same pain. It's hell. I'm in hell, Tony thought to himself.
"Fitting isn't it?" she asked softly. "Such dreary weather for such a dreary day?"
He didn't say anything. He just smiled sadly, and nodded in agreement.
She continued. "I hate this," she murmured bitterly. "All of the hurt, and the pain, and the loneliness, it..." she said, her voice cutting out as the lump in her throat closed it off. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she swiped at them. "It's like it's all brand new again," she whispered.
"I know, baby," he said, sympathetically. "And believe me. If I could take all of that away, I'd do it. Just so I don't have to watch you hurt anymore," he murmured.
He slowly walked over to where she was standing. Then he shoved his hands in his pants pockets, watching her closely again. She shifted her weight to one foot, and leaned against the glass, putting a sweater-cuffed fist to her mouth, her eyes dull and mournful. It broke his heart that she still felt so lonely. That this place, that used to be so full of life and love, made her feel this way. And he ached to hold her again, to wipe away her tears, and tell her it would all be okay. But he knew he couldn't.
He saw another tear roll down her cheek, and she swiped it away silently as well.
"Don't cry, Pep," he whispered, looking at her forlornly. "You know I hate it when you cry."
"Damn it!" she exclaimed, chuckling to herself in frustration. "These stupid tears just keep coming, whether I want them to or not!" She sniffed loudly and swiped at the new tears rolling down her cheeks. Tony just watched, silently.
She'd been there all day, making preparations. He'd watched her bustle from room to room, muttering to herself as she worked, boxing some last remaining items, and staying too busy to let herself feel anything. And now, as the daylight waned, and the evening set in, he could see that her weariness was starting to get to her. She sighed heavily. "Of course it doesn't help that I had to come here again," she stated. "I've tried my darndest to stay away."
Tony smiled in understanding. "I know you have," he replied. "Wanna know something, though?" he asked optimistically. "Every time I get to see you, you still look as beautiful as the day I married you. You still take my breath away, Pep. I hope you know that." He realized the dark irony of that statement, and chuckled sadly to himself at his choice in words.
She didn't respond, of course. And he didn't expect her to. He just watched her for a moment, before she spoke again. "I guess the only consolation is that, after tomorrow, I won't have to be here again. I can finally move on. And the new owners? They fell in love with it, and bought it on the spot. Which, I'm grateful for, I suppose. It helps to know it'll be loved as much as we loved it, right?" she said, smiling weakly to herself.
Tony smiled softly and nodded in agreement, looking around at all the furniture covered in white sheets. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel traces of their collective energy, the sound of the moments of blissful laughter, the fiery arguments, the quiet, loving whispers, and the late night conversations they'd had in this very room where they'd opened up and bared their souls, entrusting each other with their deepest secrets and insecurities, further strengthening the bonds between them, never to be broken. Not even in death.
Pepper took a deep breath. "Too many memories here," she resolved. "At first, I swore I wouldn't sell. You know that. But I just..." she said, her voice cutting out from the lump forming in her throat. "I need to heal, Tony," she said, as new tears formed. She shook her head, and swallowed hard. "I can't keep doing this," she murmured weakly. "I hope you can forgive me for that."
"Pepper," he said. "There is nothing you have to be sorry for, baby. You've been through hell. No one's going to slight you for what you're doing." Without him in her life anymore, it had made the load doubly hard for her to carry in the last couple of years. She was exhausted, and thread-bare, understandably. What can I say? I'd probably do the same thing in her position, he reasoned.
"And with everything you got after I..." he began, but quickly quieted himself. Nobody needed him to rehash what had happen. So he just nodded. "Yeah, you've got everything you could ever need to start over. So, I'm happy for you, honey. I hope you finally get some peace," he concluded.
"Peace," she whispered in weary thoughtfulness. "I guess it's peace I'm after. When you boil it down."
Tony gave her a soft, fleeting smile. "Well, you deserve it," he said.
Pepper remained quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "Is it strange that I still talk to you?" she murmured. "I mean, is it normal that we still talk? Or that I just start talking, believing you're actually listening to me?"
Tony frowned. "I listen, Pep. I've heard every word you've said to me," he assured her.
Pepper shrugged. "I suppose it is. Although, I'm sure it would look strange to someone on the outside looking in. Good thing our conversations are always done in private, huh? Otherwise, I might get myself committed," she joked, smiling and chuckling softly despite herself.
Tony chuckled, too.
"Then I'd be forced to resign, instead of volunteering to," she commented, and Tony froze, his face falling.
"You've...resigned?" he asked with trepidation, not wanting to accept this startling news.
"I don't know if I've told you that, yet. But...I don't know. I just don't have a passion for the job anymore. My heart hasn't been in it since everything happened. And I realized that it isn't fair to anybody if I continue to stay. So I put in my resignation this week," she stated, keeping her focus on the raindrops hitting the window.
Tony just stared at her, wide eyed and stunned. But the longer he let her new revelation to him soak into his bones, he realized, Of course, she's leaving! What made you think she'd stay? You're selfish for believing at any point that she would!
"Wow," he gasped. "You're selling the house, you're leaving the company. I..." he muttered, trailing off. "I guess you really are ready to move on, aren't you?" he asked. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard, shifting his gaze to out the window as he processed the sudden rush of finality. Somehow, he'd thought there'd be more time.
"I, uh... I wonder where you'll go," he mused, only guessing that she didn't have plans to stay in LA.
Pepper took a minute to speak. He shifted his eyes to her, looking at her side long, waiting to see if she'd start talking again.
She took a deep breath. "I...guess I haven't really thought through where I'll go for sure," she said. "Maybe I'll just travel for a while, or something. I don't know. I just know that I want out of LA. There isn't anything left for me here, now. There hasn't been for quite some time."
Tony frowned, and looked back out the window, working his jaw in thought. I won't be able to follow, he thought. Does she know she's letting ME go, too?
Suddenly, the pieces began to fall into place. He'd found himself in the mansion that day again, not just because Pepper had come, but because she was closing the book on their lives together. And, consequently, his ties would be cut and he'd be moving on, too. He'd been locked in this state of limbo, this purgatory of sorts, thinking his only purpose was to have to helplessly witness the grief of his widow. But, now, it was crystal clear that was not the only reason. He realized Pepper was inadvertently helping him to transition to whatever awaited him on the other side, just by the decisions she'd made recently. He'd been put there to wait for her to get to them to this point. And now it was time to say goodbye. For good.
She closes that door for the last time tonight, and that's it. It's over, he realized. He recalled everything that had happened, piecing together the reasoning behind his theory. It had started the day of the funeral. He'd suddenly found himself back in the mansion, among the mourners and well-wishers, having to watch Pepper try to put on a brave face through her reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks, until the last guest left, and she sat alone on the sofa in the darkness, gently sobbing until her strength gave out, and she fell asleep. And then he drifted away into the ether. Where to exactly, he had no idea, as his only recollection of time and space after he passed away was tied to her periodic visits to the mansion.
XxXxXxXxXx
It wasn't long after that that Pepper had moved out of the house. She'd put a lot of things into storage, but left the large pieces of furniture in hopes that, once she decided when to put it on the market, the contents would also be sold. So the next time Tony found himself in the mansion after the funeral, it was their anniversary. Pepper had shown up, dressed to the nines, with dinner, candles, wine, and two red long-stemmed roses in a vase. "Just because you can't be here physically doesn't mean we can't celebrate," she'd reasoned optimistically. He'd watched her as she fixed dinner in the kitchen, chattering to herself about what she was making, and humming happily. He delighted at the sight of her smile, and how happy she seemed. It felt almost like old times, and when dinner was ready, Pepper sat down at the dining room table with her plate, and her glass of wine.
Tony took a seat across from her, and watched her fondly, happy that she'd thought to do this for them. But suddenly, Pepper's resolve began to waver, and the happy glint she'd had in her eye when she arrived flickered out. He frowned as he saw her start to falter. He watched her pick at her food for several minutes, before finally throwing down her fork in defeat. She swiped her wine glass and the bottle off the table, blew out the candles, and tromped into the living room, leaving him to sit in the dark. He didn't have the heart to go after her. That is, until he heard the sound of glass shattering, sending him running into the living room. "Pepper?!" he called out, before he found her collapsed in a heap on the floor sobbing bitterly, the remnants of her wine glass, and its contents, splattered against the window, the red wine pooling on the floor.
He ran to her, collapsing beside her frantically.
"I can't do this, any more! What was I thinking?!" she cried. "I came here because it's like you're still here, Tony! I swear I can feel you! But you're not, are you? And I feel so alone!"
"I am. I am here, Pepper! I'm right here!" he assured her. He forgot himself, and reached to pull her into his arms. But his embrace fell empty, his attempt futile.
"Damn it!" he barked. "Come on! She needs me!" he pleaded to the universe, pounding a fist on the floor. A bitter tear rolled down his cheek, and he swiped at it angrily, his chest heaving as he sat heavily back on his haunches. He shook his head in defeat and looked at his grieving wife. "Pepper, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby," he said, turning his body to her. "Please don't cry! You know I never wanted for any of this to happen! I hate seeing you hurt like this!" he desperately told her, wishing she could hear his words.
She squeezed her eyes shut, before slowly opening them again after a moment, a lingering sob catching in her chest. "I've tried so hard," she murmured. "I wanted tonight to be happy. It's our anniversary, Tony. And I thought I could do this! That might sound crazy, but I thought I could be brave! I wanted to pretend like it was for real, and look through the wedding album like any couplewould do on their anniversary, and feel some kind of...of... normal...I don't even know what," she stated.
"It was a nice thought, Pep," he encouraged. "I applaud you for trying."
"But it was stupid. Just a desperate attempt to band-aid a gaping wound," she muttered.
"It wasn't stupid, Pepper," he argued. "It's just your way of trying to grieve."
He went silent for a moment, and then started speaking again. He knew she couldn't hear him. But, at that moment, it didn't matter. He just needed to get the words out. "You know, I don't know why, and I don't know how. But I keep getting sent here every time you come back. I know it pains you to come here. But, for what it's worth, I'm grateful that you do." He looked at his wife, his heart aching for her. "I miss you, Pep. And if I'm meant to spend eternity just meeting you here whenever you decide to come, I'll take it," he said.
They'd sat, alone together on the floor, for several more moments as Pepper slowly calmed down. Then, all at once, she picked herself up off the floor, silently, briskly, and walked to the kitchen, quickly packing up everything she'd brought. Tony slowly got up, and trudged back toward the kitchen to watch from the doorway as she readied everything to go. She flicked all of the lights off, and he just stayed where he was as she passed by him. He turned his head as he listening to her footsteps moving toward the front door. Then he heard her stop, hesitating.
"Happy Anniversary, Tony," he heard her say to him, her voice weary.
He closed his eyes, feeling the familiar icy stab of pain course through him. And soon after, he heard her leave, shutting the door behind her. And he faded away, yet again.
XxXxXxXxXx
Tony blinked, bringing himself back the present. "I guess that's why I'm here, too," he resolved wistfully, his eyes drifting over each sheet-draped lump. He brought his eyes back to Pepper. "To move on? That's the only thing I can figure. I don't know why I'd be here otherwise."
"I'd thought about spending the night," she said. "You know, one last time? But I decided I'm done. I've cried oceans of tears, and hurt worse in the last few years, than anything I've ever gone through in my life. So, I'm ready to just...be done, all of it."
He swallowed hard, secretly wishing she would stay over. He missed watching her sleep, as he did early on, before she'd moved out. She always looked so peaceful, when she finally managed to get some sleep, that is, and he liked watching over her. It made him feel of use to her again, rather than just being a source of pain.
But besides that, the rain was still pouring down, making the roads slick and dangerous. He wished she'd just relent, and wait out the storm. That would give him more time to say goodbye, anyway. But he knew any objection he made would go unheard. So regretfully, he watched as she put out the gas flame in the fire place, gathered up her purse, her car keys, her phone, and her umbrella, and headed for the door.
But Tony felt a surge of panic suddenly overtake him. "Wait! I'm not ready. I'm not ready! No! Pep! Don't go! I'm not ready!" he cried desperately as he followed to her to the door. "No! Don't go, yet! Please, Pep? Don't go! I'm not ready!"
"Son. You are ready," he heard a familiar voice say suddenly behind him.