I'm the first one to finish my task, so I join Marks I and II in fixing the damage the time/parallel universe device has taken. By the time we're done, I can see the exhaustion on both other versions of my face, and I know I look just as tired. If there's something we've missed, things could go catastrophically wrong, but we've just got to trust ourselves, which isn't all that hard, because we do know we're all damn good at this sort of stuff. Mark IV announces he's completed his part as well. He's figured out how to program the device, and also created a working connection between its controls and the laptop, so that he can use the computer to direct the process.
We waste no time but move on to get it over with. I connect my arc reactor to the parallel universe/time machine, using a cable long enough that I can stand on the platform while it's connected. Instantly, numerous little lights blink on here and there on the device's surface around us. I don't feel anything out of the usual, and of course I don't, because it's not taking much power yet. I don't really know what to expect once it truly begins. The energy drain is going to be huge, a dozen times more than my suit uses, far past anything I've ever put this arc reactor through.
Marks I and II hang around close by, looking nervous. I know how they're feeling: anxious and annoyed because all they can do is wait and watch. Mark IV stands up and moves closer to us, but his eyes stay tightly focused on the laptop. Its screen is now showing real-time readings about the device.
"Power levels look fine, but that doesn't mean anything, since the device is just on standby," Mark IV explains. His apparently calm tone would fool anyone else, but as it's really my voice, I can hear he's on edge, same as everyone else. "I've now finished programming the new parameters. Are you ready?"
"I doubt we'll ever truly be," Mark I shakes his head. "Just do it."
"Yeah, go on," Mark II agrees.
"I'm starting to get bored here," I complain. "Let's get this show on the road."
"All right. Buckle your seatbelt, Dorothy, 'cause Kansas is going bye-bye," Mark IV quotes. We can't see him hit a button or anything, because he does it all mentally, but we can hear a low, slowly intensifying hum, as all the massive machinery around us comes to life.
As the device draws more and more power, I'm actually starting to notice the drain. My arc reactor is heating up, which is something I've never felt. It's really disturbing, since it's not supposed to do that. I'm already getting nasty mental images of it overloading and exploding like its larger counterpart, splattering me across the walls of the room in a red mess of blood and spare body parts. At least it would give some color to all that gray concrete.
"Yes, yes, it's working, looking good so far..." Mark IV mutters, his words only just audible in the growing noise.
My chestpiece keeps growing warmer, and all of a sudden, though not unexpectedly, there's a pain in my chest that sends me gasping on my knees. Marks I and II both offer helping hands, asking if I'm all right - what a stupid question - but I can barely speak, and it really doesn't matter, because there's nothing to be done if I'm not, so I just grimace at them, assuming they'll understand.
"Ah, hell! Goddamn it," Mark IV suddenly curses. "It's not enough after all, it's not going to work!" he yells loudly enough for all of us to hear. "We need more power!"
"I'm - not - holding - anything - back," I pant through gritted teeth.
"I have some!" Mark I shouts, and damned if I can explain how he does it, but somehow he manages to connect a wire from his chestplate to the configuration of cable and arc reactor, adding a small amount of energy to the whole. It can't be much, but looks like it's all it takes.
"Yeah! That does it! Great job, Mark I!" Mark IV exclaims. "Two minutes to transition."
Two minutes... I don't know if I can take this even that long. I feel like someone's inserted a glob of molten lava into my chest to replace the arc reactor. By the looks of it, Mark I feels about as bad as I do. He falls on his knees in front of me, grabbing both my shoulders for support. I imitate the gesture, reaching for his, so that we're sort of leaning on each other.
Mark II kneels by our side and puts a steady hand on one shoulder of each of us. "Come on, you can do it, just a little longer!" he encourages us.
"Well. It was nice - getting - to know you," Mark I gasps, as a goodbye. "Like - brothers - we never had."
"Getting - melodramatic - again?" I pant at him. "But yeah - was - nice."
Mark IV appears by our side too, opposite Mark II, and places hands on our shoulders, so we form a tight square, four Tony Starks on their knees in the middle of the platform, hands on each others' shoulders. This would definitely feel extremely stupid in some other circumstances, but here and now, I think it's OK. Without the support from the other versions of me, I'd already be lying on the floor.
"Thirty seconds to transition," Mark IV informs us. "You did good, all of you."
"We all did," Mark II corrects.
"And now we're going home," Mark IV adds. "Transition in five, four, three, two, one -"
There's a blinding white light, just like the last time - but this time, I'm looking at it through a red haze that's pulsing in time with the heartbeat thrumming in my ears.
Darkness.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
I wake up to the sound of Pepper shouting, "Mr. Stark! You have half an hour before the board of directors meeting starts, you need to get up and shower and change or you'll be late again!"
I sit up and look around. I'm on the floor of my shop, back home, right where I left, as if nothing has happened. The transphase-quantum repulsor gauntlet lies next to me, smashed from falling to the floor. That's fine by me, because it's one project I'm going to trash right away.
I can barely believe it. It was all just a dream, after all? I'm panting as if I've been running, my heart is pounding madly beneath the arc reactor, which still feels burning - but it can't possibly be. It was just a dream. The weirdest one I've ever had, extremely real and vivid, but nothing more than that, right? And no matter what physical reactions a dream might cause in my body, it can't affect the chestpiece.
I grab Pepper's hand and place it over the arc reactor. "Does that feel hot to you?" I ask, without thinking at all, a completely innocent question.
Of course, she misinterprets it. She blushes, her face turning a shade of red brighter than her hair. "Mr. Stark!" she exclaims, and tries to pull her hand away. I cover it with mine to keep it right there.
"It was a serious question, Miss Potts," I emphasize, locking my gaze with hers. The cerulean color of her eyes is a striking contrast to the reddish hues of the rest of her face, the slowly fading flush on her freckled cheeks. "Do you think the chestpiece feels warmer than usual?" I intone carefully, slowly, to get my point across without more misunderstandings.
She sort-of misinterprets again. It's no wonder, considering my serious tone and the way my heart is still bouncing like it's trying to push the arc reactor right out of my chest, which she surely must feel. "Oh," she utters, with a worried frown. "I think it does, a little - Tony, are you all right?"
I guess I can't really trust her judgment on this. Of course she thinks the chestpiece feels warm, because I specifically asked about it. She hasn't held her hand over it all that often, so she hasn't got much to compare this to. Of course it was a dream. There can be no other explanation. End of discussion. Forget all about it.
I take a deep breath, trying to pull myself together. "I'm fine, Pepper. Just a bad dream," I reassure her, and let go of her hand.
She knows I've had more than enough nightmares since Afghanistan. She nods, and does not force the subject, because she also knows I don't want to talk about them. Her hand lingers on my chest a moment longer, and then travels sideways to reach my hand. She makes to stand up, and pulls me by the hand to get up as well.
"You have an important meeting in twenty-five minutes. Are you up to it?" she inquires. Looks like she's still slightly concerned, because she's asking, instead of urging me to hurry up and keep going and get ready or we'll be late.
"Of course I am," I answer, taking a few slightly shaky steps towards the door, but then I stop as a thought crosses my mind, and I've just got to ask her, "Now, Pepper, tell me, you wouldn't marry Happy Hogan, would you?"
THE END
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Author's Note: Thanks to all those who took the risk and read this even though it's such a strange story :) Even bigger thanks to all those who wrote reviews - and please write some more, I'd like to hear what you think of the whole story now that it's all finished. As for the big question in the summary, "is it just a dream", well, Tony Stark Mark III sure thinks so, but as the author, I've got an opinion of my own too, and mine is that no, it isn't. You can decide for yourself whose opinion counts...
