Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Iron Man characters. That is Marvel's job.
WARNING: Post IM3.
Whew! Alright, ALRIGHT. I know I owe you guys another chapter in Night Terrors. I've been writing a TON, just nothing I can publish yet. I actually mean for Night Terrors to be a one-shot. No lie. xD So. I'm not actually sure if I am going to continue it. I'll just be a Mini-Moffat and leave you with feels because I can. I also have final exams next week. as far as I know I've only got to take one of them, and here's to hoping, so please continue to bear with me! This is indeed another one shot. It takes place right after the scene in IM3 where Tony destroys the suits, and he and Peps enjoy a ride to the hospital in an ambulance.
There were so many things she wanted to say. Far too many unspoken words, far too many instances left in silence. And for some reason, whatever that may have been, they didn't seem to matter any longer at this point. All that mattered was the fact that they were alive. Together. Any tension or anger that may have existed between the pair was dissipated the moment she'd laid onto the stretcher and felt his arms wrap firmly around her torso. Her head rested on his chest just to the left of the arc reactor, and her fingers brushed against it ever so slightly as she laid in total silence. Remembering. Wondering. Her body was far too hot- sweat poured from her forehead, causing small wet splotches on his already torn and dirtied shirt. But her breaths were even and her heart rate was normal despite her 'hot' state as the pair of them rocked along silently with the ambulance. The silence that reigned between them wasn't an uncomfortable one, in fact, it couldn't have been any more comforting. It was a mutual silence, and it was more than needed. She was glad he seemed to understand. She needed to be close to him, without saying a word. Every so often small noises of pleasure escaped her lips as his fingers raked through her greasy and unwashed hair. The smallest of smiles curled up into the corner of her lips as his fingers brushed several strands of hair from her face as she looked up to meet his eyes, crystalline blue searching chocolate brown for some sign of how he was feeling.
The past few weeks had been (literally and mentally) hell on her body. Never before had she been so strong. Never before had she been able to do some of the things she could do in this state. On the other hand, she didn't think she'd ever felt quite so weak. Not having him near. Not knowing if he was alive. Not knowing anything, just yearning to hear his voice telling her everything was going to be alright.
It wasn't thoughts of what the future held (though those thoughts were wary ones) that scared her anymore. It was the past that she would now have to overcome, and the very idea of the task seemed completely improbable and impossible. The number of times she had told /him/ that his past did not define him seemed so insignificant in the scheme of things. It was a simple enough concept, verbally. However, the actual practise of that very idea was a much more difficult thing to do. But as she lay in his arms a new respect washed over her. A respect that a person only gains for another by truly understanding how the other feels. She understood him so much more now. The urges to protect the one thing she couldn't live without. That was /him/. He really was all she had. Everything around her had to do with him. She would forever regret the way she had treated him in one of his greatest times of need. He had needed her more than anything else in the world and she had been so selfishly wrapped up in her own world that she had failed to see him hurting. She had been so afraid of the unknown, the things she /couldn't/ see, that she had lost sight of what was right in front of her. And her biggest regret of all would be that she hadn't seen just how much he truly loved her. All of his attempts to protect her she'd discarded into a scrap heap, dismissing them as his own insecurity, something she needn't bother with. So many words had been lost in translation, but there were three words that she was pulling from drowning in the sea that everything else had sunk into. They lingered on her lips, and left the sweetest taste as they burst forth in the silence.
"I love you."
Alrighty! There it is! I realise its rather short, my one shots usually are if you haven't figured that out yet, considering I write everything on my phone. please please press that little review button. A happy author is a reviewed one! This is Potts, signing out!