Empty Shells
Author's Note: A what-if drifting about in my head. After the second movie.
Tony protected himself.
It was a natural human instinct.
Or at least that's what he told himself.
He had been protecting himself ever since his parents had died. Ever since the world came tumbling down onto his unprepared, immature, irresponsible shoulders. Ever since he began using different personas, different pieces of himself at different times. Ever since he wasn't whole. Ever since he was split into so many different people, he didn't even know himself anymore.
There was the childish, immature kid who wanted to go nerd-crazy and live in a house of Legos and Star Wars all his life.
There was the intellectual who would've been content to stay in college for the rest of his life.
There was the adventurer who wanted to go off into the world, without his parent's money or legacy following him.
There was the arrogant prick that was raised on money, would always have money, and would probably die because of his money (in one way or another).
There was the suave business man who could cut any deal he wanted.
There was the humanitarian and philosopher who wanted to give everything away, help the people of the world.
There was the artist who wanted to design and engineer, and just wanted to be left alone.
But for the very same reason that he was split into these pieces, he settled on the easiest persona, the one that didn't require any effort: the playboy who couldn't be bothered with names or personalities or relationships that lasted longer than a single night.
He could say this all changed when he met Pepper, but that wouldn't be true. It was true that he let her see a bit more of these pieces than the rest of the world, but Rhodey and unfortunately, Obadiah, had these pieces too. No, it changed when he dropped down on his knees in front of Rhodey and cried. It changed when he saw Pepper's eyes red from tears. It changed when he saw Happy give him a look of pity.
But then it wouldn't be true to say that that was the sole reason why he was a hero. That was Pepper's doing. Pepper put him back into one, whole man, for the first time in...in too long. That changed when Pepper whirled back to him and whispered that he was all she had, too. That whisper had sewn all the pieces back together. That whisper told him what he was doing this Ironman thing right. That whisper told him that he couldn't be selfish anymore. That whisper had somehow done it.
Looking back now, it probably had something to do with the fact that that was when he truly admitted to himself that he didn't just like Pepper Potts...he was absolutely in love with her.
In all the movies and cliches, they often describe the ways a character feels after the love of his life is dead or gone or something like it. They describe it by saying they had been torn into pieces, that half of them wasn't there, that they weren't a whole person anymore...
But that's all bullshit, Tony realized, as Obi whispered to Tony that it would have been better if Pepper had lived. That's all bullshit.
Tony knew what it felt like to be in pieces. And when you're in pieces, when you've been ripped apart in so many ways you don't know who you are anymore, you can always be sewn up again.
No, Tony couldn't be sewn up again. This he knew with startling certainty. Tony was an empty person. He was deviod, deviod of Pepper. He knew that she could never be replaced; he could look as hard as he wanted, search as long as he wanted, be optimistic as long as he wanted...but it wouldn't help. No, Tony decided. If you lose someone, you aren't ripped into pieces; it just sucks away everything you know, until you're left all by yourself, an empty shell forever staring into what could be, what should be.
Yes. An empty shell.
So when the paralysis wore off, he knew it was helpless to try and feel any better. He would always be empty, in some way another. He would never have a complete heart, a complete soul, a complete self. He had lost too much, and the stitches would be getting weaker every day, until one day, when he would completely fall apart.
But Pepper had stitched him up again. Pepper had put his humanitarian, his philosophical, his good side in there. And seeing as how these pieces (and Rhodey, for that matter) wouldn't let him kill himself to be with Pepper, he crawled down the stairs, searching for his heart.
It hadn't occurred to him until later how ironic that was. Searching for his heart.
