Author's Note: Another huge thank you to Chris and Kiraboshi for beta-reading and idea-bouncing. Thanks, guys! Parts of this chapter might be very obscure (one part is from the novelization of the first movie) so I'm sorry about that, but we'll have a little break from Tony and his craziness in the next one, I promise. Please enjoy and read and review!


Because two had been very effective, she physically handed him one pill around nine thirty that evening. He angrily protested but, since she had hidden the bottle in her room while he was in the bathroom, could do nothing about it. Pepper did not take anything herself because she had work the next day and figured she could sleep as long as he did. It might have even been a reasonable assumption, if the opposite was not certain to be true.

She awoke because something banged in the living room and even tried to ignore it for a moment until the muttering began. Pepper screwed her eyes shut but finally rolled over and glanced at the digital clock which read half-past four. With a groan she forced herself out of bed. Tony was standing in the cramped space between the couch and coffee table which was a screw.

The bang she had heard was probably him hitting his leg on it.

"What's going on?" she demanded coming around to face him then stopped.

The expression on his face could only be described as wild, terrified. His eyes were open but glassy even as he looked around franticly without really seeing anything. He was breathing fast and hard, one hand constantly hovering at the ever-present light in his chest. Pepper was fairly certain he was not actually awake. What is it? she thought anxiously. Some kind of delirium tremor while sleepwalking? Night terror?

"Tony? Tony, it's okay." She tried to reach for him, but he shrunk back as if struck as soon as her hand fell on his arm.

"No," he muttered. "No, no, no… gotta make it out."

Out of where? Pepper frowned. "Where do you think you are, Tony?"

"We've gotta go. Gonna make it," he repeated. "Almost there. Just stick to the plan."

Pepper had gotten fairly used to not knowing what he was talking about over the last two days, but this was different. She had no idea how to respond to what he was saying or if he was actually hearing her and suspected he wasn't. She took a step closer, moving the coffee table out of the way so that neither of them were bumping into it, and held eye contact on her end. Pepper might not have known where his mind was telling him he was, but just the fact that he was standing here now meant something.

"Tony," she said; maybe hearing his name would help in getting him to snap out of it. "You made it out already. You're safe."

If the comment registered at all it was barely enough to make him pause and shift from hyperventilation to confusion and back again. He paced, muttering something unintelligible, and Pepper could do nothing but follow and do her best to make sure he did not bump into any more furniture. After about five minutes, he stopped again, the panic abiding slightly. Tony kept licking his lips and looking around in a daze.

"Hot," he said finally.

"What?"

"'s too hot." He stumbled a little. When she caught his elbow, he didn't struggle against her touch this time. "Sand... itches."

Sand? "Come sit down."

She guided him back to the couch without much protest from him. He managed to sit still and silent for a few minutes as she held his hand in both of hers, then shot up abruptly and began to pace again. At least he was not panicking. Instead he simply looked lost and tired. Pepper wondered where he though he was, what memory he was reliving. She had read about his capture and escape in Afghanistan some years ago but could only suspect the night terror had something to do with that and the escape.

The noise of sirens and hum of a helicopters passed by outside the window before fading into the distance again. Pepper might not have noticed if not for his immediate reaction. Tony's face lit up with sudden euphoria, and for an instance she thought he might have actually woken but quickly realized that he'd simply snapped into another memory. Was it the sounds? He made his way back to the couch and before she knew what was happening, he was on his knees and dragging her down with him, hugging her so tightly she could feel the metal outline of the device in his chest digging into her breastbone. His beard was rough against her smooth skin.

"Thank God," he was saying over and over again. "Thank God."

Pepper was startled but tentatively returned the hug and stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. Even after remaining that way for several minutes he refused to let her go, and the pressure from the device was becoming very uncomfortable. Finally she gently pushed against it just to be able to breath. He relented only slightly and frowned, looking down at where her fingertips were still pressed against the circle. Pepper held absolutely still; he was private about the thing to the point of paranoia. But instead of triggering another round of panic, Tony began to laugh.

"Bomb," he laughed, the sound tinged with hysteria.

What? Her eyes widened, but she could do nothing but stare at him. Tony shook his head vehemently, still laughing and coughing.

"It's not...," his hands gripped her upper arms, but the hold wasn't strong. Was he trying to... comfort her? "Not a bomb."

Pepper exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "I know you can't hear me, but I hope you know you're a jerk."

He was grinning now and swaying a little on his knees. His hands dropped into his lap but not before they accidentally brushed over her breasts. Pepper blushed involuntarily and instinctively pulled her robe tighter around herself. It's not like he's going to notice... He did notice and was frowning intensely.

"When'd you get boobs, Rhodey?"

If her hands were free, Pepper might have buried her face in them. She didn't know if she was supposed to laugh or cry. She was exhausted beyond measure, and the work day loomed only hours away. He was still on the floor, but she took his hands and managed to maneuver him to the couch again. The gentle pressure on his shoulders pushed him down until he was completely horizontal. By this point his lids were already drooping, and he shifted a little for a more comfortable position though his right hand was still firmly holding her left.

"I hate beans," Tony declared.

"Whatever you say," Pepper snorted. "Just give me back my hand."

But he was already asleep again.

She sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch. What was an hour or so lost sleep anyway?