Guest Review Responses

Toni: Happy Tenth Anniversary! THANKS for the stories, taking the time to comment on our reviews, the journeys you've taken us on and I wish you all the best as you continue to do so. '...piling problems threatening to drown them alive.' Couldn't have put it better myself. This summarises this chapter perfectly. The last scene was heart breaking to read. Is it the baby?! Did something happen to him?! Please say NO! – Aww! Thank you! And, uhm… please don't hate me! :( PLEASE!

Epilogue

He had been sitting in the same chair, in the same hall, and outside the same room for the past two hours, waiting silently and almost as still as the statues outside the damned hospital he despised so much; the same hospital that had hosted his redhead on several occasions, even before she was his wife – the same hospital where his son had been born.

He scoffed despondently at the last thought; the irony behind this fact was too cruel to even warrant mention, and yet it was true.

He hated this forsaken edifice of supposed health renovation. If it were up to him, he would burn it to the ground. Every room of it. Every concrete structure within range. Right now. Without a doubt. All of it. With himself inside.

He sat with his back hunched, his forearms resting on his knees, his head hung, and his hands turned into tight fists. He had drawn blood from his palms a while ago, several times, in fact. But he had simply washed the skin to get rid of the evidence of his current state. He did not care if he bled; he did not care if he was scarred for it. And the only reason why he had eliminated the red liquid from his self was so that his ginger did not witness his desperation. His pain. His broken soul.

No. Pepper could not know of his weakness, at least not for now, and perhaps not for a while. He had to remain strong for her, even if the tears had not stopped falling ever since they had both arrived at the hospital, ten hours ago, following Rhodey's frantic call. It had all happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, that his mind was yet to fully understand, let alone accept, the new truth in their world.

He had long ago abandoned his blazer. He had no clue where it had been left. He had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and the top two buttons of it were undone. His tie was barely hanging from his neck and, now that he thought about it, he pulled it off himself and buried it inside his pants pocket. It was no longer needed for now… not at least until he had to dress up again for…

"Mr. Stark? It's time."

The voice of Nurse Owen did not startle him, but it did make a knot form in his stomach and in his throat. He knew what she was here for; it had been the same reason for the past three times she had stood there before him with a sad look on her face. Every other time, he had sent her away; told her to come back later. But he knew that, this time, there would not be another chance to delay the inevitable – to delay death.

He was not sure if it was the gravity of the situation, or perhaps it was the fact that this woman knew him for years now, but she did not address him again. She merely stood closer to his sitting form, hands clasped together in front of her. Without one show of impatience in her posture, she waited and waited until Tony found his voice once more.

"Did you bring it with you?"

"Yes. Dr. Ross has approved the dosage and usage. It's ready."

Tony clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He inhaled and exhaled loudly and repeatedly. Once more, Nurse Owen waited for him. This time, however, she also rested a comforting hand on his shoulder and whispered encouraging words. Without even thinking, Tony's left hand ended on top of hers and gave it a thankful squeeze. After one final exhale, he finally stood up from the chair and nodded towards the door.

"How do you want to do this, Mr. Stark?"

He thought about her question for a minute and reviewed the possible scenarios that had been dancing in his mind for a few hours now. In the end, all he gave her was a defeated shrug. She was the medical expert, anyway, and he was certain that she had done this more times than he cared to do it himself. Without anything useful to immediately say, he prepared himself not for what was about to happen, but for what he was about to be forced to do.

"Stay by the entrance," was his only request when he opened the door and she did so. His presence inside the after-labor mother's room was eerily similar to the one time he had walked into a comparable room, not even nine months ago. Ironically enough, the three people involved in this situation were the same: his redhead, himself and his son.

Said woman did not even acknowledge his presence until he stood by the bed where she rested, her back against the headboard. In her arms: the once bundle of joy in their lives. She had kept the same posture since coming in here, even though it was certainly not the most comfortable position to sit in on a bed for eight hours straight. He was certain, though, that she just could not give a fuck about it right now; perhaps ever.

"It's time, Pep," he said softly and slowly ran his fingers down her red mane, hoping the gesture would not set her off. To his luck, it did not. She simply looked up to stare at him for a second before she returned her eyes to her son and spoke.

"Not now, Tony. Jimmy is asleep."

The knot in Tony's throat grew and his lips quivered, but he did not cave. He had a mission to accomplish, and he was the only person willing and able to carry on with the difficult task of relinquishing a baby from his mother's arms. He did not want to do it, but it was his cross to bear.

"Pepper, honey," he swallowed hard. "Howie is not asleep."

"Yes, he is," she immediately replied. "His eyes are closed, and he hasn't moved since we got here. He's asleep."

Tony looked over his shoulder and toward the door to give Nurse Owen a silent order. When she nodded once and her hand reached into her pocket, the inventor knew she had understood.

Why would she not. She's here for one reason and one reason only. Well, maybe two.

Tony sat on the edge of the bed, facing Pepper and the wall, giving his back to the nurse, allowing her to slowly gain ground towards them without being noticed right away. He used his left hand to support his weight on the bed. With his right hand, he ran his fingertips over Pepper's tear-stricken face. It was then he realized she was wearing his blazer to protect herself from the cold that her thin dress failed to do.

The redhead finally looked up again and gave him a forced smile that was instantly followed by a loud sniff. He gave her a begging look, trying to communicate with her without words, trying to make her understand what needed to be done, but she only shook her head lightly and returned her attention to their son.

The blue-eyed boy followed her gaze and allowed himself to pretend that her coping mechanism was true, even if for just a moment's time, and whispered to him from memory one of the shortest nighttime stories he had written for his son. The redhead listened intently and rocked the baby to Tony's voice, stopping only when the story finally came to an end. He then leaned forward, so that he did not have to rest his weight on his left arm, and used it to caress his son's face for the last time. His skin was no longer glowing with innocence and promise, and neither was it soft nor warm.

"I love you," Tony whispered to his baby son before he placed a kiss to his forehead. A few of his tears fell on the baby's face but, just as expected, no reaction was incited from the move. He carefully wiped the salty liquid from James' face. When the genius' eyes returned to his wife's, he realized that the waterfalls he could feel coming from his eyes were reflected in her own.

"Don't let them take him, Tony," she begged him and tightened her grip on her son's body. "You can't let them take him. He… he-he just needs more time. He'll wake up soon, you'll see."

"Pepper, he… he's not waking up," he told her, brow furrowed. "They need to prep him, Pep. They need to take him now."

"No," she said softly and shook her face. "Why aren't you listening to me? He just needs to sleep it off."

"Pepper, please. He's not–"

"NO!" her face snapped up to stare at her husband. "STOP IT, TONY! GIVE HIM TIME!"

"Pep," he began and held her face in his hands even though she tried pulling away. "Pep, Pep… Pepper, listen… look at me… Pep…"

"No, Tony!" she sobbed. "Don't do this to me! Don't help them take him away!"

"They have to. We-we have to let them."

"No, we don't!" she insisted. "Don't take their side! You're supposed to be my partner! You're supposed to help me! Why are you taking their side? WHY ARE YOU BETRAYING ME?"

"He's gone, Pepper," he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "He's not coming back to us."

"But, he IS! He's as stubborn as you! You came back to me every time! Even when no one thought you'd make it, you did! Believe in him, Tony! Please, believe in him! You just have to… UGH!"

Without either of them noticing, Nurse Owen had made it to their location. In the blink of an eye, she had injected the redhead with the entire contents of the syringe in her hand. Pepper stared at it disbelievingly for a second, and when the quick effects of the relaxant began to take place, she began to sob and scream at the same time.

"NO! STOP! Don't do it! Tony! TONY! DON'T!"

"I'm sorry, Pepper," the genius said as he slowly pulled baby James from her grip that was now losing its strength. In seconds, Nurse Owen held the tiny body, and before Pepper could do or say anything else, the woman was almost by the door.

"Fuck you, Stark!" the redhead growled at him and sloppily hit him on the chest before she tried to get up from the bed to run after her son. Her legs had no will to move. Her brain was starting to shut down; his arms were the only thing that prevented her from hitting the floor like a sack of flour on freefall.

"You son of a bitch! Why are you doing this? WHY?"

He wrapped his arms around her and kept her standing, even when he felt her become dead weight against him. She continued to sob and scream, albeit not as intensely. She demanded James be returned to her, and she blamed him for betraying her. His only response was to continue apologizing for what he could not control and to hold her tightly, hoping that she would somehow realize he was also in pain.

A few minutes later, she was almost completely passed out. He picked her up in his arms and returned her to the bed. He set her down and arranged her so that she was as comfortable as possible while she slept. He had to report to the morgue in about an hour to fill out paperwork, and he had been assured that the redhead would be out for the count for at least twelve hours straight. That was plenty of time for him to make the necessary arrangements, and plenty of time for him to think how to handle her response when she woke up.

She finally closed her eyes, and he took the opportunity to kiss her lips. As soon as he pulled away from her, her whispered words left his heart and soul as cold as his son's skin had felt on his hand just moments ago.

"You… swore…" she licked her lips. "You swore you… wouldn't… let anything… anything happen… to him. You lied… you… lied…"

He froze at her words. He knew what she was talking about. He remembered his promise to her; another promise to her that he had broken. Another empty agreement he had failed to fulfill. From all the times he had failed her, from all the ways he had disappointed her, this was the worst one for him.

All he could think of doing now was running.

So he made damn sure that he did.

He ran out of the room, down the hall, up the stairs, and to the edge of the roof. He stood by it; tempted by the sweet release of death that awaited him should he decide to take the plunge. It was so simple, so easy to take the one step, so much easier to just let go of it all than to deal with the aftermath of this living nightmare that would not end. He could do it too, he knew. There was nothing to stop him from doing so, and by the time anyone found out what he had done, it would have been too late.

As late as it was for his son.

As late as it felt for his own life.

Too late, just as it was to keep the promise he had made to her.

His eyes traveled from the long fall to the contiguous land across the street; the despised piece of property that held the final resting places of many lost souls. The poorly located place of mourning. The unfriendly and unwanted next-door neighbor. The motherfucking lot that would soon hold the lifeless body of James Howard Stark.

Devoid of all care and numb to the world, the inventor took the drop.

THE END

A/N: What? Why are you looking at me like that? Didn't you all say throughout The Third Year that I should just kill the baby? Oh! Oh, wait! You meant if it was Scott's! Oh… yeah… uhm… well… All I can say and all I can ask from you, is to trust me. I know it's hard and I know it's practically impossible after this, but please, please, PLEASE trust me. When have I let you down, huh? What I break, I fix.

Thank you, again, for reading, supporting me and reviewing. We have two more stories to go and we're done with this ambitious project. Let me know if you'd like me to continue :) And feel free to vent if that's what you need to come back for The Fifth Year. Tony and Pepper need you more than ever… don't let them mourn alone!