Iron Man: It's A Wonderful Life

Chapter Eleven

December 24, -:-

Wordlessly, beyond the very ability to form words, Tony edged toward the bed as though gentling a wild animal. He was afraid to disturb the man resting there, even though it was clear to any who observed the wasting body in powder blue button up pajamas, that he would be disturbed by very little, ever again.

Tony's mouth worked silently, hesitantly, before finally the whisper of his friend's name came quietly: "H-ap… Happy? That you, buddy?" He didn't answer, of course, but the closer Tony got, the less of a question there was in Tony's mind that he was right about the man's identity. It was really Happy.

Sinking slowly onto the edge of the bed, so carefully as to avoid making more than the merest dent, he hesitantly took the larger hand in his, placing the palm atop his own to judge the weight of it, and feeling the dread of understanding that it's size was greatly reduced. Tony captured the hand between his two protectively, seeking even a spark of intelligence in Happy's eyes. There was none, and though they remained fixed on the television in the corner – Downton Abbey, Tony realized with an ache in his heart – they took nothing in, focused on something just short of the moving images on the screen.

Tony couldn't help himself from staring at the depression in Happy's temple, and curious fingers rose to touch, stopping just short of contact. Ghosting above the ridge, he scanned the concavity, a lump working in his throat. "What happened to you, buddy?" he croaked.

"He never left boxing," Howard explained solemnly. Tony started; he'd forgotten his father was there. "He had no reason to, because you never hired him."

Revulsion. Tears filled his eyes, and a short, choking sob exploded from him. "He used to tell me about boxers who stayed in the game too long; how he'd never wanted to be one of those drooling, brain damaged pugilists with Punch-Drunk Syndrome. He wasn't a good fighter, he always said-" His hand dropped to Happy's shoulder. "He wasn't one of the best, not good enough to last. He was proud to work for me. And I- I was so-"

But even that was better than this.

Howard moved closer to the end of the bed. "You know, you've been given a great gift, son: the chance to see how much you really matter. Not one in a million is afforded that chance. Don't waste it. Someone has a very special plan for you."

Spirits; second chances; third chances; Tony had every reason to believe, not only in 'Someone', but in his father's claim of a special plan, but in addition to all his proof of existence, he'd also seen ample proof to the contrary. "I've caused them so much pain," he whispered. "Maybe he's better off this way. At least he won't be arrested for abetting a traitor."

"Do you really think so?" Howard sounded irritated. Angry, even. "Do you really believe that they people you love would prefer a miserable life without you, to a life with you, no matter how difficult? They love you. Time and time again, they walked through fire for you, and you've done the same for them. They learned their strength from you. Without it, they're shells of the people you know, broken, scarred, unrecognizable, because life has-"

Tony raised his head.

"Pepper."

Standing so fast he pushed the bed two inches across the floor, Tony rushed at his father, grabbing his lapels. "Where is she? Where is Pepper? What happened to her?"

The sympathy in Howard's eyes scared Tony more than the words he spoke. "You're not going to like it."

"Goddammit, tell me!"

Howard pushed Tony away and maintained the distance between them with his hands on Tony's shoulders. "She's at the Stark Mansion – but it's not called that anymore. When your mother and I died, we had no family, so everything went to the person we trusted most - the person who became C.E.O. Virginia was always smart, and she made an impression on him, just as she made an impression on you."

"No."

"She became his assistant, and within five years, she'd agreed to marry him."

If she had died, Tony couldn't think of a worse fate. "She- she wouldn't. Why?"

"You know how charming he can be. He knew what he wanted, and he made sure he got it. When he ran for Congress the following year, he had the perfect wife; beautiful, charming, a delightful hostess, and by then, already disillusioned. Virginia Stane is practically a prisoner in her own home."

Virginia Stane. Tony couldn't bear it. "Take me to her."