Disclaimer: Most of the characters and situations in this story belong to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. All others are mine, and if you want to borrow them, you have to ask me first. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.
I suggest you visit my site just so you can see the lovely banner that Cincoflex made for this chapter!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
His first thought had been hospital, but Tony glanced over at the woman in the passenger seat, and his instincts stirred uneasily. Her color was better, actually, and her breathing had deepened; he reached over and checked her pulse as he stopped for a red light, and it was steady and strong. She seemed to have passed from a faint straight into sleep.
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to decide what to do. Finally he pointed the car towards the house, barely remembering to call Hogan and let him know that Pepper had been found, stand down, thanks man. Tony had been upgrading Jarvis' medical files and scanning capabilities pretty much constantly over the last year or so; it made things easier when he came back from a mission injured. Jarvis could tell him whether or not he needed a doctor--and had more knowledge than half a dozen specialists put together. I'll let him decide.
It wasn't hard to figure out why he didn't want to take her back to the hospital. The first time I turn my back, she disappears. And while bribery often worked with medical administrators--underwriting a new hospital wing could work wonders--Tony had had less success with actual doctors in the past. Getting thrown out of his girlfriend's hospital room wasn't something he wanted to try.
Pepper hadn't woken by the time he parked in the mansion's garage. She was limp and warm as he lifted her carefully from the seat, and she didn't stir.
"Jarvis." He spoke quietly, knowing that the AI could pick up a mere whisper if necessary. "I need you to run a full diagnostic on Pepper." He laid her in his chair, lowering the back so that she was reclining, and wheeled it forward a few feet so Jarvis' scanners could reach.
"I am relieved that you found her so quickly." Tony was used by now to the kind of statement that no emotionless computer was supposed to make. "Scanning now."
Tony stood out of range, trying not to twitch as the instruments hummed and buzzed over Pepper's motionless form. "You found her," he pointed out dryly. "Though what the hell she was doing in her old neighborhood--"
"Disorientation is common after a head injury," Jarvis reminded him unnecessarily.
"Yeah, but why didn't she fucking call me?" It was inexplicable. It simply didn't match what he knew of Pepper. And he liked to think that he knew her pretty well by now.
"The scan is complete. Do you wish a visual?"
Tony shook his head, loosening his tie. "Just give me the facts."
"Pepper is suffering from a mild concussion and various bruises and abrasions. Her lungs are slightly inflamed, but not sufficiently to require medical intervention. She is currently exhibiting the delta waves of Stage N3 sleep."
Tony let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So she doesn't need to go back to the hospital?"
"Currently, no. Her stress hormone levels are quite elevated; bed rest and fluids are indicated."
"Got it." Tony gathered Pepper up again. She was lighter than she looked--it was those delicious, absurdly long legs, he thought. She let out the little sigh that always made his throat tighten, and snuggled closer, her hand automatically coming to rest over his arc implant.
He resisted the urge to hug her hard, and headed for the elevator. "Jarvis," he said over his shoulder, "call Fury and tell him the emergency is still ongoing. No bugging me until I say otherwise."
The elevator closed on Jarvis' acknowledgment.
The bed was a mess, but that just made it easier to bend and sweep the spread out of the way before laying Pepper down. Tony removed her shoes and socks and sweatpants before pulling up the blankets and tucking her in.
And then he stripped off his own shoes, coat, and tie, and lay down next to her, and repeated Jarvis' words silently. Stage N3 sleep. She's probably not even dreaming.
None of it made the knot just behind his implant loosen. The last day had been a new kind of hell, and her antics hadn't helped. He'd nearly lost it right there when she'd fainted in his car.
Tony sighed, and closed his eyes. Part of him was clamoring for sleep, but given what had happened the last time he'd taken a nap, he wasn't inclined to try it just yet. Besides, every time he started to drift off, the memory replayed itself in vivid full color--
"I'm going out for a run." Pepper had pulled on an old set of sweats and a Stark Industries softball cap, and looked delectable to his greedy eyes. Tony set down his coffee mug and pushed a little ways away from the kitchen table, and Pepper didn't disappoint him, detouring over for a brief but warm kiss.
"Don't be too long," he told her.
"What, you want company in the shower?" She grinned at him and ruffled his bed-head, and he swiped at her ineffectually.
"Always." He patted her ass as she walked away, and on impulse picked up his coffee and took it with him to the window. Watching Pepper warm up was one of his little treats.
The sun was just clearing the horizon. Normally they ran together, Pepper's length of leg offsetting his greater stamina, but he'd pulled his calf during his last suit mission and wasn't quite up to a sustained jog. But there were pleasures to be found in observing; Tony sipped his drink and watched his girlfriend stretch as she emerged from the house a story below.
It was still a new feeling, he mused, even though they had been living together almost a year now. A constant source of astonishment, that he could be so comfortable with someone else, that she would put up with him, that he was always eager to see her even when they'd spent most of the day in each other's proverbial pockets. Love was an astonishment. And while he was still feeling his way through his first long-term relationship, Tony liked to flatter himself that he wasn't doing too badly.
Pepper finished her warmup and began running south along the cliff path--setting a fairly easy pace, he noted, without him there to compete with. Tony smiled into his mug and enjoyed the sexy grace of her movements as she drew away from the house.
It happened almost too quickly for him to comprehend. Between one breath and the next, some fifteen yards of the cliff path simply crumbled abruptly out of sight, sliding down to the beach below.
Taking the small slender figure with them.
Tony didn't remember dropping the mug, or starting to run; awareness came when his bare feet reached the top of the switchback stairs to his private beach. He didn't bother with them; instead, he jumped over the railings from landing to landing, ignoring the jar every time he landed and the splinters that were embedding themselves in his palms. The tide was washing up the sand when he finally got to the bottom, and Tony poured every erg of energy he had into speed.
The new gap in the cliff face was footed by a pile of sand and rocks, already being nibbled on by the encroaching ocean; this part of the path swung out until it was nearly over the water. But Tony had eyes only for Pepper's tumbled form.
She looked absurdly small, and horridly still, and his throat seized up as he realized that she was face-down in the water. Gasping, Tony fell to his knees next to her. "Pepper!"
She didn't move. He grabbed her, rolling her over and across his lap, and she was limp and deathly white, blood welling up and staining her sopping hair. Cursing, Tony gathered her up and stood, retreating from the waves and seeking dryer ground. When he laid her out on the hard sand and bent his head to her chest, there was no movement.
Ice spiked him from throat to gut. He pressed fumbling fingers to her throat, and felt nothing. Terrified, Tony covered her mouth with his and blew.
He never could remember, afterwards, how long he alternated rescue breathing and chest compressions before Pepper stirred, choked, and vomited water; he barely got her turned onto her side in time. But as he pulled her upright to help her breathe, he blessed his father for instituting, all those years ago, mandatory CPR training for all Stark Industries employees, from the janitors straight up to the board members. Including the CEO.
Pepper didn't really regain consciousness during the trek back to the house. Tony went as fast as he could without jarring her too much, relieved beyond measure to see her hands and feet moving; the situation hadn't allowed for precautions against spinal or neck injuries. As soon as he was within shouting distance, Tony bellowed for Jarvis, demanding that he rouse Hogan from the driver's cottage near the gate.
By the time Tony had snagged Pepper's bag and his own I.D., Hogan had the limo at the front of the house, door wide open and his face almost as pale as Pepper's. The drive to the hospital would have been harrowing under other circumstances, but all Tony's attention was taken by the unconscious, blanket-wrapped woman in his arms--
They'd told him she would be fine. Tony seethed at the thought. He'd been there when she'd finally woken, dazed and hurting, and while her behavior had been odd--she'd almost seemed repulsed by him--she had been coherent, at least.
Fuck, she's still coherent. She just doesn't make any sense.
Doctor Phair had made him leave, threatening to forbid him visiting privileges if he didn't cooperate. Tony had gone home and even managed to sleep for a few hours, with the help of the scotch he hardly ever touched any more, but he was back on the hospital's doorstep as soon as visiting hours began.
Only to find that Pepper had already been discharged.
Tony made a mental note to switch Stark Industries' insurance provider, and another to buy out the first insurer just so he could fire whoever had decided that head injury victims should be limited to one-night stays. Hogan had tried to tell him that Pepper had just gone home, but the sick feeling in Tony's gut had warned him otherwise.
She hadn't waited for him. She hadn't even called. Something was very, very wrong.
Does she blame me for what happened? He already blamed himself; the house was secure on its perch, but apparently he'd neglected maintenance for the cliff path. But even anger at him shouldn't have led her to wander back to her old neighborhood.
It had been Jarvis who had traced her phone's GPS chip and told him where to look. Tony had been so relieved to find her, so furious and frightened, that it had taken him a while to notice that her statements didn't quite track.
Now a cold suspicion was growing in the back of his mind, one that he didn't dare look at directly, because it was so ridiculous, so cliché...so frightening. It was nonsense, had to be.
Either way, however, he wasn't budging. He didn't care if it took a week--he was going to be there when Pepper opened her eyes.
Which should happen any time. The sooner, the better.
He shifted, and sighed. And went on waiting.
He really hated waiting.
Several things crossed Pepper's mind the moment she woke.
One--she was insanely comfortable, despite the heavy arm thrown over her hip.
Two--she knew that scent, and it meant she was in her boss' presence, which meant Three--she was in her boss' bed.
Which led to the truly dizzying number Four--if she was in his bed, why was he still in it?
She didn't remember getting into the bed. That wasn't entirely unexpected, because from what she'd seen women often didn't, being too occupied with Tony himself at the time. What bothered her was that she didn't remember anything leading up to that either.
Not to mention the screaming voice between her ears ranting at her for being just that stupid.
Ethics. Morals. Common sense. She'd apparently tossed them all out the window on a surge of hormones.
Pepper held very still. The windows were dimmed, so it was hard to tell what time it was, but the body behind her was breathing slowly and deeply, which probably meant he was asleep.
And if he remained so, she might just be able to salvage the last shreds of her dignity, if not her job.
Of course, the voice snickered meanly, no one's going to come throw you out...
Pepper ignored it the best she could, and very cautiously reached down to lift Tony's arm. Sliding out from under it, she made to the edge of the bed--she'd never realized quite how big the damn thing was before--and stood.
Someone--she couldn't quite picture Tony doing it, but who else was there--had folded her sweatpants over the back of a chair. Pepper gathered them up, spotted her shoes, and was bending for them when a weary voice spoke.
"Where do you think you're going?"
She froze. The last thing she wanted to do was look at him, but pride rose up and conquered cowardice, and Pepper straightened and turned slowly around.
Tony was sitting up, his hair seriously mussed and his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. His shirt was badly wrinkled, and Pepper focused on that so she didn't have to meet his gaze. "I--Mr. Stark--"
Part of her wondered wildly if she would have a better idea of what to say if she could remember what they'd done. "I need to go."
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "You need to get back in bed and sleep some more, at the very least." His manner was odd--not at all what she had expected, neither impatient nor amorous. Instead, he just looked wary.
"I'm not--" Pepper began, and stopped, not quite sure what to say. "You--we--" She gave up, and waved at the bed.
Tony's mouth quirked, dry and somehow sad. "Do you really think that we'd still have any clothes on if we'd...had sex, Pepper? Or have I been giving you too much credit all these years?"
Her ears began to ring again. He had a point; she was still wearing the scrub top and her panties, and Tony seemed to be fully dressed.
None of it made any sense. Pepper clutched her pants, wanting to pull them on and cover herself but not quite able to move. Tony stood up, reached for the robe puddled on the end of the bed, and tossed it to her. "Here."
It was his. She caught the robe automatically, and wrapped it around her hastily. "What am I doing in your bedroom? In your house?"Pepper ran a hand through her hair and winced as she hit a sore spot. "The last thing I remember is you putting me in your car."
Tony grimaced. "Yeah. You passed out. I had Jarvis check you over and he said you needed sleep."
Pepper felt a glare coming on. "You have a half-dozen bedrooms in this place, and you had to put me in yours?"
"What? The sheets are clean. Mostly." The glint of humor faded quickly. "Pepper--there's something--" He hesitated.
She raised her chin, shame returning and mixing with resolution. "My resignation will be on your desk tomorrow morning."
"The hell it will." Tony's eyes narrowed. "Look, there's no easy way to do this. What's today's date?"
Pepper stared at him, calling up anniversaries from memory and not uncovering any that seemed significant. "Saturday. June fourth."
He winced. "What year?"
She was used to strange questions from him, demands for reminders of perfectly obvious details, so she answered. "2005."
Tony's eyes closed briefly, and he let out a long breath. "Pepper...it's 2009. September twelfth." His smile didn't quite work. "You got the day right at least."
Just how much has he had to drink? She hadn't smelled alcohol on him, but-- "Maybe you're the one who should be in bed."
He looked up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, date and time please."
"It is 2:44 PM on September twelfth, 2009," the AI recited obediently. "I am sorry, Ms. Potts."
Pepper blinked, and felt anger starting to swell under her breastbone. "You know, Mr. Stark, I'm used to your stunts by now, but this is not at all funny."
Tony's mouth fell open. "You think I'm joking about this?"
Pepper bent and retrieved her shoes, her movements jerky with irritation. "Sure. Humiliate me for a moment of weakness, though why you couldn't have just--" She straightened again, huffing. "Reprogramming Jarvis is kind of a low blow, though, don't you think?"
Tony actually sputtered, his face creasing with reciprocal anger. "I'm not--I didn't! Pepper--"
She spun on her bare heel and marched for the door. There were two full bathrooms downstairs; she could change there. And then I'm going home if I have to walk every step. The fact that home wasn't where she'd left it seemed a distant thing at the moment; what mattered was getting out of Tony's room and out of his house before he could shame her further.
Before she reached the hall, the door slammed shut with a bang and Tony stood in front of it, frowning stormily. "Moment of weakness--we'll have to talk about that later. Nevertheless, you're not leaving, Ms. Potts."
Pepper straightened her shoulders and reminded herself that she was taller than him when she wore heels. "You have no right to detain me."
He blinked rapidly, as if sorting through possible responses, but before he could answer Jarvis broke in.
"I have not been reprogrammed, Ms. Potts. Tony is telling you the truth. You received a blow to the head yesterday, and it appears to have blocked a portion of your memory."
It felt as though her blood were chilling, slowing down in its flow through her veins. Jarvis went on. "For your own health and safety, it would be best for you to remain in the house for the moment. You are on the verge of dehydration and still require rest and food." The AI hesitated for a second. "If you are not comfortable in Tony's room, there are several other rooms available to you."
She honestly didn't know what to say--or even think. The idea seemed impossible, especially when her memory of what she'd assumed to be the past week was still so clear--
But even Tony didn't carry a joke this far.
Pepper swallowed, and met Tony's gaze. His mouth was set in a grim line, but after a moment he stepped aside, wordlessly clearing her path.
She opened the door and walked out. Tony followed her as she descended the stairs, but she didn't deign to look back, instead heading for the first guest room on the main floor. It had an en-suite bathroom and a door that locked.
Pepper was half-afraid that Tony would pursue her into the bedroom, but he halted on the threshold, and said nothing when she closed the door in his face.
And then she leaned her forehead against the door, fighting tears of strain and fear. I don't know what's going on. I don't know what to do.
I'm scared.
"What's she doing?" Tony asked, slumping onto the piano bench and running a fingertip along the smooth keys, too lightly to produce any sound. "Show me."
"That request is a violation of her privacy," the AI reminded him, and Tony laughed without humor.
"Fuck privacy. She's hurt, and if I know Pepper she's terrified but won't admit it. Show me."
The big TV across the room flared to life, showing a view of the guest room Pepper had chosen. She wasn't visible, but before Tony could ask, the door of the bathroom opened and she came out, holding a glass of water.
She was still wearing his bathrobe, and Tony didn't know whether to be glad, or just worry that she was even further out of it. "Are you monitoring her vitals?"
"Of course," Jarvis admonished. "Her stress levels are still high, but she has begun to rehydrate. Heartbeat and respiration are only slightly above normal."
Tony watched as Pepper wandered over to look out the window. "That was pretty sneaky of you," he said after a moment. "Not mentioning that it's actually our room."
"Treatment for retrograde amnesia includes allowing the sufferer to progress at his or her own pace, rather than forcing them to accept facts they are not ready to deal with. I strongly suggest that you adhere to this guideline when dealing with Ms. Potts."
Tony grimaced. "Hint taken." For one thing, she was right--he had no legal right to keep her against her will. The fact that she really had nowhere else to go obviously hadn't dawned on her yet, and equally obviously this wasn't the time to bring it up.
On the screen Pepper was sipping from her glass, still with her back to the camera, and Tony wondered if she even remembered that the cameras were there. I don't have the right to hold her--but there is no fucking way I'm letting her go. For her own safety, or for his sanity. Either was sufficient.
"Tell me more about amnesia," he ordered Jarvis. "How long will it take her to recover her memory?"
"Do you want full-text articles, or a summary?"
"Distill it." Tony felt the urge for a drink, and set his jaw to ignore it.
"Very well. Retrograde amnesia of this magnitude is far rarer than popular fiction would lead one to believe, and unfortunately there are few consistent patterns for memory recovery. Some people recover most or all of their memory in time; others recall only portions thereof, or never regain what was lost. Recovery time can range from days to months or even years."
Tony's mouth twisted; it wasn't what he wanted to hear. "What can we do to help?"
"Recommended treatments include allowing the sufferer to set the pace of inquiry, as previously mentioned," Jarvis said. "Places and patterns still familiar to the patient often help them regain a sense of stability. Pushing to recover memories can actually hinder or cause harm."
"Right." Tony watched Pepper finish her water and set the glass down on the room's small desk. She folded her arms, and her head bowed.
2005. Long before Afghanistan, before the suit, before his literal change of heart. Longer still before they'd dared to consummate what had been growing between them for so long. In 2005 I was still a complete playboy, coming up with bigger and badder weapons and never bothering to notice anything that might possibly disturb me. And Pepper had been little more than his PA at that point--scarily smart, able to anticipate practically every thought he had, and capable of snarking back at him when he got out of line, but definitely off limits.
So to her, I'm still that guy. The thought made him ache, made him angry--not at her, but at himself, for being such an ass all those years. For wasting so much time.
Pepper moved, turning and walking slowly to the neatly made bed. As Tony watched, she shed his robe and dropped it on a chair, then lifted the covers and slid down under them. She curled up into a tight ball, and his gut knotted sharply as she pulled a pillow into her arms.
He knew what those shaking shoulders meant, even if Jarvis hadn't included audio. Without thought, he stood.
He made three strides before Jarvis cut him off. "You must leave her alone, Tony. She does not know you as she used to, and you will only make things worse if you go to her now."
The AI was right. Tony knew it, and for her sake he had to obey. He forced himself to sit down again, to relax his hands from clenched fists; but when he looked again at the TV and the huddled figure on the screen, it felt like his reactor had failed and all the shrapnel was diving for home.
Pepper...
His vision blurred, and he couldn't stop the sob.