Chapter 20

To say JC's time in the hospital was unbearable would be an understatement in her humble opinion. After weeks of lying in a bed she was more than ready to go home. Granted, for quite a bit of that time, she was barely lucid. A lot of it was a blur of hallucinations and lost time. Two weeks in an induced coma would do that to a person, or so the doctors said. She couldn't remember being injured so badly that such treatment would be necessary; however most of the details of her escape from the prison camp were hazy at best. And if she were being one hundred percent honest with herself, she didn't want to ever remember that place.

She thought the worst of the recovery would be learning to walk again. While it had only been a hairline fracture to her pelvis–which she was still trying to figure out how it had happened–a broken bone was still a broken bone. But no, that wasn't the worst of it. Even having her arm in a sling and dealing with the pain of just trying to breathe normally with broken ribs wasn't nearly as bad as the nightmares and hallucinations she was still suffering. What was more, she never knew what was real and what wasn't. Some things she could guess. The day they were captured, moments here and there of working on the suit that would help them escape, even Yinsen's death, were all real moments. Then there were moments of wandering in the desert, of fighting a behemoth version of the suit of armor, of Tony Stark lying dead in what she assumed to be his own home. Those images didn't make sense. The only conclusion was that they were dreams brought on by a combination of her injury, a wild imagination, and maybe even guilt. She wasn't sure what she had to feel guilty for; whatever it was must have been lost with her memories.

The biggest change was that of her son. He was actually doing things without being told, being helpful around the house, and even cooked food that didn't involve the use of a microwave. When she confronted him about it, he said that it was things he had learned during his time with the foster family he had been put with. He even offered to take her there to meet the family. At first she wasn't sure that was a good idea, but he was insistent that he wanted to see them again. After the months he'd had to endure, she couldn't deny him such a simple request.

As they pulled up to the house–which she still wasn't keen on the idea of him having gotten a driver's license without her–Darren told her to wait by the car, that he wanted to make sure it was okay for them to visit. It seemed odd since a phone call before driving out there would have been the better option, but she agreed to it.

She watched as several kids that were out in the yard greeted him with smiles, and one little girl was especially excited to see him. She ran up to him and jumped into his arms giving him a big hug. JC couldn't help but smile at the sight. There was a time she and her husband Brenan had considered having another child, someone that could keep Darren company during their various deployments, but there never seemed to be a right time for a second baby. After Brenan's death, it seemed like a blessing to only have to raise one child, but there were still times she wondered what it would have been like.

While Darren went into the house to talk to the parents, JC leaned against the side of the car admiring the quaint image before her. This was the life Darren deserved. Not a group home, of course, but a home with family that didn't go running off into dangerous situations. This place wasn't ideal, but it gave him stability that he desperately needed.

"You did it!" a small child's voice said.

JC looked down to see a young girl of maybe seven years, the same one who had been hugging Darren. "I'm sorry?" JC said, utterly confused.

"You brought Darren!" the little girl clarified. "I knew you'd keep your promise." She then wrapped her arms around JC, which caused her to wince under the child's vice like grip.

"Uh, sweetie," JC managed as she extricated herself from the little girl's grip and carefully knelt down to her level. "What are you talking about? What promise?"

"I told you to tell Darren to come visit Shrimp bait, and you promised you would tell him so he would know to come. And he came! Thank you!" She then wrapped her arms around JC's neck, the force of which jarred her sore ribs and shoulder.

"Darla!" JC looked up to see Darren followed by an older man and woman. "Darla, honey, go back in the house. You still have chores to finish," the woman said and shooed the child away. "I'm so sorry about Darla. She doesn't have the best impulse control. Did she hurt you?"

"No, it was nothing," JC said as she got back to her feet. "I think she was just confused. She seemed to think I've been here before."

"Kids that age," the man said. "They can have active imaginations." JC couldn't help but notice a flicker in the man's gaze. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn there was a lie somewhere in his statement. "I'm Martin, and this is my wife, Joyce."

JC shook hands with the couple, but there was still something gnawing at her with the way they were looking at her. It was as if they already knew her, but that wasn't possible. She would have remembered coming to this house, meeting these people, the children. Darla certainly made an unforgettable impression.

"I was just talking with Mr. and Mrs. Beck, and if it's all right with you, they said I could come over occasionally to visit, do study group with the older kids. Would that be okay, Mom?" Darren asked, but JC barely heard him. The gnawing feeling in her mind was starting to become an irritation that was making her head throb. "Mom, are you okay?"

"What? I'm sorry, it's just a headache," she said as she rubbed her temple.

"Do you need to sit?"

"No, I'm fine, sweetie. I'm sorry, you were saying something about a study group? That would be all right with me. At least I'll know he's doing something constructive with his spare time."

"Of course, and we are more than happy to have him over any time. Darla bonded with him while he was here, and she's still trying to adjust to him being gone," Joyce said. "The older kids have gotten used to some of the comings and goings of other foster kids, but the younger ones don't yet completely understand that none of the kids stay forever."

"I understand," JC said. "And Darren can come by any time. I hate to cut this short, but we really should be going. I'm afraid I left my pills at home, and I'm…I'm not feeling well all of a sudden."

They quickly said their goodbyes as Darren helped her back into the car and headed for home.

"Are you sure you're all right, Mom? The doctor said if you start having persistent headaches that you should go back to see him."

"Yeah, and he said the occasional headache wouldn't be abnormal. I'm fine. I promise I will let you know if I need to go back to the hospital."

"Really?" Darren said with a cocked brow.

"Cross my heart," she said, making an 'x' over her chest.

Darren shook his head and rolled his eyes. JC giggled and settled in for the drive home. As the scenery flew by, she couldn't help but notice the Stark Industries building in the distance. She didn't know what she expected of the man. They had been imprisoned for three months and managed to escape, yet he hadn't even been to visit her. Not that she would have wanted to see his face, it would have at least been the decent thing to do. She thought she had dreamed once he had come to see her, but a dream was all it was. If it had been real, he would have come a second time when she was lucid. Of course, this was typical Tony Stark. He hadn't visited her the last time she had been injured. She wasn't sure why she should have expected anything different. Yet there was a part of her that felt like he should have come. That was ridiculous. She didn't want anything to do with Tony Stark, and she certainly didn't want him anywhere near her son.

When they finally got home and settled in for the night, she realized she hadn't yet been back in her studio. Even after Japan she had felt the urge to return to her studio, to vent out all the frustration of having failed in her mission, but in the weeks since she had been back in her home, she hadn't felt the urge, the need to go into the room. It was an odd sensation to her. Even though she knew her mind was in turmoil, there was a sense of peace, of acceptance over what had happened. It was unsettling, but not in a way that made her want to go back into that room.

Downing her evening dose of pain meds, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The behemoth suit chased after her again, this time more determined than ever to catch her. She had to be quiet as she tried to duck behind objects to escape his sight. She had to kill this monster. She didn't know why it was after her, but she knew she had to kill it before it hurt someone. She rounded a corner and found herself behind the behemoth. She didn't remember how the gun had gotten into her hand, but it was there now. She ran up to the hulking metal beast and climbed up to its head, ready to kill the creature. But it turned on her faster than she could react. It grabbed her by the right arm and threw her in the air before she came crashing down to the ground.

When she looked up, expecting the behemoth to crush her, the scenery changed. The surroundings turned to a narrow stone corridor, and instead of the metal behemoth, a tall figure that seemed to be made of smoke towered over her. It was in the shape of a man, with glowing red eyes, and ten rings on his fingers. She tried to back away but was met with more stone at her back. The figured closed in on her with a malevolent smile of pointed teeth. With no other means of escape, she let out a scream as she charged at the figure. If she couldn't get away, she would fight it any way she could. As she charged at the figure, she went right through it, and darkness engulfed her.

There was nothing here. Complete emptiness surrounded her as she looked for an exit, an enemy, anything. The next time she turned, she was greeted with a familiar face.

"Brenan?" she called out, reaching for him. But there was no kindness in the blank stare he gave her. As she reached him, his hands shot out and wrapped around her throat.

"You killed me," he said coldly. "You killed me, and now you will die."

She struggled to push him off, clawing wildly at his hands, begging him to release her. Her vision began to grow dark as she fell to her knees, each breath becoming more difficult than the last. Just as she thought she was going to die, she could swear she could feel strong arms around her, helping her to fight off Brenan.

"It wasn't your fault," she heard a male voice whisper.

"It wasn't my fault," she said hoarsely. Brenan looked at her confused as she found the will to pull his hands off her. "Your death was not my fault!" With a final burst of strength, she pushed against him hard enough to send him flying through the air and disappear into the darkness.

She sat motionless, feeling completely drained from the attack. Then she could feel someone's presence sit down beside her and strong arms wrapped around her. She had no idea who this mystery person was, but it felt familiar, safe to be wrapped in those arms. She leaned into them, her body relaxing as she tried to forget the horrid images from before.

"Find someone to lean on," the figure whispered gently.

"I have. I found you," she said as she wrapped her arms around the figure.

"You'll never remember what we had. It's your chance to be truly free of me."

She didn't understand. Why would she want to be free from him? He was her safe place. She needed him. But who was he? She pulled away to look her mystery savior in the eye. The face of Tony Stark smiling at her greeted her.

"Tony?"

"Find someone," he said as he took one of her hands in his. She looked down, surprised by the touch, and noticed his thumb was stained blue. His reached out with his other hand to tilt her face up to look at him. "Or you will never be free of your demons."

"I don't…I don't understand," she said as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Goodbye," he whispered as he began to close the space between them, "my guardian angel." He then kissed her lips softly, and just as quickly as he had come, he vanished.

"Tony? Tony! No!"

JC shot up in her bed, cold sweat covering her body. What had it all meant? It was all still a blur, but she had been in his arms. That much she could clearly remember. But what did he mean that she was free? That she would never remember? Remember what?

A moment later Darren came through the door, a worried look on his face.

"Are you all right, Mom? Another nightmare?" he said. She had been having vivid dreams on and off since returning home, but they hadn't been anything like that before. The armored giant was normal, but she had never dreamed of her deceased husband like that, or of Tony Stark kissing her.

"I'm fine. Just go back to bed, okay?" she said.

"Was it Dad? It's usually only this bad if it's Dad," he asked. During her recovery at S.H.I.E.L.D. Darren had told her that he had known about the details of his father's death for some time now. She was relieved that he knew now but still worried about him as well. The one man he supposedly looked up to all those years was little more than a shadow now. Now who was he to look to?

"No, not that one," she assured him. "It was something very different. I could hardly tell you what it was about. It's all fuzzy," she said as she rubbed her temple.

"Why don't I make you something to drink," he offered. "It'll help you get back to sleep."

She conceded and followed him to the kitchen where he proceeded to make her some hot chocolate. As she waited for him to finish, she walked about the house until she came to her studio door. Staring at the closed door, she thought back to her dream and remembered Tony's blue thumb. It had seemed so out of place in an already odd dream, but as she put more thought into it, she realized that it hadn't looked stained; it looked covered in paint. She didn't know what her subconscious was trying to tell her, if it was trying to tell her anything at all, but she wasn't going to find answers by standing outside a door.

Pushing the door open she moved to the center of the room. Most of the projects on the tables she could remember starting. Many of them she had simply lost the necessary motivation to finish. Nothing seemed terribly out of place until she moved to her rack of canvases. She pulled the top one out, a smaller canvas done with acrylics, and stared at it for several long moments. A lot of her memories were a jumbled mess, but she could still remember every piece she had started or finished before leaving for Afghanistan. This was not one of them. The colors were an angry mess more closely resembling one of her venting pieces, but she hadn't done one of those for at least eight months. Just behind it was another piece done in blue and green oils. This one was more controlled, purposeful. Along the edge she saw a note in her handwriting with an arrow pointing to one of the corners. "Tony Stark's Imprint on the World," it said, and beside the arrow was a perfect thumbprint.

Suddenly a memory of Tony in her studio came to her. She couldn't make out the details of the conversation, but she could remember yelling at him to get away from the canvas, of showing him her finished pieces. Her hand went to her temple as more images flashed before her too quickly to make sense of, and she barely noticed as she dropped the canvas in her hand.

"Mom," Darren called out as he came into the room. "What happened?"

"Tony Stark was here," she said dazedly as she tried to piece together the images she had seen in her mind.

"Stark? What are you talking about, Mom? Tony's never been here."

She turned a calculated glare at him. He had just blatantly lied to her face. "Then how do you explain this?" she said, picking up the canvas and laying it on one of the work tables. "I know I've been a little mixed up lately, but I know every piece in here by heart. This one even has a date from eight weeks ago. Odd, considering I was supposed to be in a coma during that time."

Darren took a step back, looking nervously about the room. "What do you want me to say?" he asked timidly.

"I want you to tell me what is really going on," she demanded. "Why is there art I don't remember making? And why did that little girl recognize me? She said I promised to bring you back to visit, but I don't remember going to see that family before yesterday. What are you not telling me?"

His face fell as his fingers twiddled with the seam of his pajama pants.

"I'm waiting for an answer," she pressed, her features hardened.

"I didn't tell you, because," he paused, unsure whether to answer before saying, "because I was told not to."

"Who told you to do this?" she asked, her voice softening.

"Tony Stark," he answered meekly, still staring at his feet.

JC was aghast. How could he have done this? Most of the images were still vague, but one image had begun to come in clearly. She was with Tony in his house, and he was kissing her. More importantly, she was kissing him back.

"Why would he do this?" she wondered, "And why would you consider doing what he said? You hate him."

"I used to hate him, but…"

"But what?"

"While you were out, he let me stay with him so I didn't have to go back to the group home. We got to talking and…I don't know. He's not who I thought he was. When he didn't know how things were going to turn out, he promised he would make sure you were taken care of, that I would get to go to college."

"That scholarship you said you won? That was Tony?" Darren had told her that he had applied for and won a tech scholarship good for any school he wanted to go to. She had never heard of such a scholarship, but she didn't think she needed to question it too much. She knew Darren was smart and capable of earning such a scholarship. "That still doesn't explain why you both didn't tell me the truth."

"I wasn't sure about it at first. But when you didn't remember anything, it was like starting over again. He said that being with him was putting us both in danger and that not telling you was the only way to keep us safe. So, just this once, I did what he asked."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her world was turning on end before her eyes. One minute she thought she hated Tony Stark and that her son would rather punch the man than listen to him. Now she learned that not only had they tried to have some sort of a relationship, but Darren was starting to like him. At least that's what she thought. She was sure that somewhere deep down he still disliked Stark. Even so, she couldn't help but feel a bit of pride for the boy. Though she wished he had told her the truth, she could understand the reasoning behind the decision. It wasn't great reasoning, but for him, it was definitely a step up.

She walked to him and pulled him into a hug. He gently returned it, still wary of her injuries. As she pulled away she looked him over.

"What happened to my little boy? He's been replaced by this man," she said as a few tears escaped her eyes.

"Mom," he said with a smile, "I'm always going to be your little boy."

With another smile she pulled him back into the hug and kissed his forehead. She pulled away and ruffled his hair, lightening the mood.

"I need to go," she said as she realized what she needed to do and headed back upstairs to her room, son in tow.

"Go? Go where?"

"I'm going to give Stark a piece of my mind," she said as she began to change into regular clothes, which was still quite the struggle.

"Right now? It's almost two in the morning," he pointed out.

"You honestly think the man will be asleep? This is Tony Stark we're talking about."

"And if he is miraculously sleeping, what are you going to do then? Drag him out by his ears?"

"If need be," she said as she pulled on a jacket and put her arm back in its sling.

Darren just stared at her in disbelief. She figured she wouldn't have to do anything drastic to get his attention, but she was not about to wait another second before she confronted him. He was just going to have to deal with it.

"I shouldn't be gone for very long, but before I go, I forgot to mention something to you," she said as she found her keys.

"What's that?" he asked.

"You're grounded until you're through with college."

"What?" he exclaimed, "What for?"

"I don't have all my memories back, but I'm pretty sure you disobeyed me by driving to Stark Industries to fight a giant robot," she explained.

"But you agreed to me driving you there. And going back in for your arc reactor was a good thing," he pointed out.

"Wait, you had a chance to leave, then came back? Pretty sure I wouldn't have allowed that. Fine, you're grounded for going back to a fight with a giant robot. Love you, sweetie," she said with a smile and ran out the door.

The half hour drive out to Tony's mansion seemed to race by as she thought over what she would say to him. She still hadn't decided whether or not she was completely angry with him. She wanted to yell at him for simply leaving her the way he had, but part of her also wanted to hear his side. As she pulled into the driveway she noticed that most of the lights were still on. She pulled to a stop in front of the garage door and was about to go to the front door when she noticed a key fob on her key ring. This had been the first time she had commandeered the car since leaving the hospital; Darren had been keeping the keys away from her, and this might have been one of the reasons why. Some of her memories were still hazy, but she figured that the device must be for this house. She pressed the button and sure enough, the door lifted and granted her access.

Leaving her car where it was, she walked down the entrance of the garage and closed the door behind her. What she saw was beyond her. The entire workshop looked like an atomic bomb had gone off. Tools were strewn about the floor and work tables, car parts and even several pieces of the armor littered the floor along with a plethora of green beer bottles around the couch. She picked up one of the empty bottles and smelled the opening. It was stale. From the lingering aroma, all of the bottles must have been at least two days old. That at least told her he hadn't gotten drunk that night in his basement. That didn't mean the rest of the house didn't look like this. She hoped not.

As she stood in the garage, more memories started to surface. Days spent working around the clock on the armor, Tony testing various pieces and nearly getting himself killed, but more importantly, the morning she had confessed her darkest secrets to him. She had trusted him with a great deal, and he had left her in the dark. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

She walked to the door and realized she had expected to still see it shattered instead of the replaced door she saw now. Thankful that no security code was needed to go through the door, because she knew she probably wouldn't have remembered it, she went through the door and headed up to the main level where she had seen all the lights.

As she rounded the corner she took in the sight of the disheveled living room and kitchen area. This area of the house didn't look as horrible as the garage, but it still looked awful. More memories came back to her, this time the image of seeing Tony on the couch, his skin pale like death. But he wasn't dead; he had been paralyzed by Stane. So had she. She turned to the front entryway, the memory of Stane standing over her becoming fuzzy. She pushed it aside. None of that mattered now.

She searched the kitchen area, but Tony was nowhere to be found. There were more beer bottles and even a couple of empty scotch bottles sitting in the sink. None of this was a good sign. Leaving the kitchen, she headed back for the stairs to check the second floor. As she made it to the first step, she noticed the remnants of a baby grand piano. She remembered the night Tony had come crashing through the roof, how he had totaled a Roadster in the garage along with the piano. She had been upset about the piano; Tony was upset about the car. But they both could agree that the hole that ran through every level of the house was the worst of it. She smiled as parts of that conversation started to surface in her mind. It's was such a stupid debate, but it was the kind that good friendships were made of.

She made her way up the stairs down the hallway that led to the master bedroom. The door to the guest bedroom sat open, and she couldn't help but be drawn to it. She stepped into the room, ran her hand across the made bed. She had only spent one night in that bed, but one was enough. It led to the morning where she finally confessed everything to Tony, every horrible part of herself that she hadn't been able to tell a single soul, not even her Airforce friend Carl Masters.

Moving from the guest bedroom to the master, she heard the sound of the shower running then suddenly shutting off. At least he wouldn't smell deplorable when she finally confronted him. Pushing the door open, more beer bottles greeted her. The bed looked like it hadn't been changed in weeks, the sheets a tangled mess, and any objects that had been on his dresser were either smashed or strewn about the room. She debated retreating all together. This wasn't the Tony she knew–or was trying to remember, at least. The last time he had been anywhere near this close of a mess was Japan, and that was not a version of Tony she wanted to see again. But no, she couldn't retreat now. She needed answers, needed the truth. And Stark was going to give them to her one way or another. She sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

Tony couldn't remember the last time he had showered. That was probably a bad thing, but he didn't see the point since he hadn't left the house in nearly two weeks. There was no one to impress, not even Pepper. After he'd left JC in hospital, she had tried to offer him some moral support, told him she understood why he did it–she thought it was stupid, but she understood–that it was better this way. That lasted until the drinking started.

He had tried. Oh yes, he had tried to stay away from it. He knew it wasn't going to make it any better, but at least when he was drunk, he could pretend to forget what it was like to have her around. Every part of the house was a reminder of what he had lost. Occasionally, in his drunken stupor, he could almost imagine her there again, working side by side as if nothing had changed. Then he would start to sober up and realize that she wasn't there, that she would never be there again.

Turning the water off, Tony shook as much water from his hair as he could before stepping out and wrapping a towel around his hips. He wiped away some of the steam from the mirror and took a good look. His eyes were blood shot and sported dark circles that looked more like bruises. Rubbing some of the tiredness from his eyes, he surveyed the countertop for his toothbrush, but came across a picture instead. It was back when the suit of armor was just pieces of an exoskeleton. He'd had to take the picture without JC knowing since she hated pictures of herself, but it was one of the first times she had genuinely smiled since starting the project. They were both soldering something into place on the arm segments. He had to trick her into looking towards the hidden camera, but it was worth it to capture that moment. She realized about half a second later that there was a hidden camera and proceeded to throw a crescent wrench at him. Those were great moments. And they were gone forever.

Deciding the toothbrush wasn't worth it anymore, he took the photo and turned it face down on the counter before leaving the bathroom in search of something comfortable to sleep in. As soon as he opened the door he came face-to-face with JC.

At first he shook his head to make sure it wasn't some sort of drunken mirage. When he realized it was really her, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a hard stare. He hated doing it, but this was who she thought he was now.

"Hello, Stark," she said as she stayed in her spot on the bed.

"Ms. Alwin," he finally said, "Care to explain how and why you broke into my bedroom at this hour?"

"I think you know why I'm here, Stark."

"You're going to have to be more specific. I'm not a mind reader," he said sternly, moving to the dresser for some much needed clothing.

"We could start with this," she said, holding up a key fob for him to see. "You should recognize a key for your own home. It could have been from when Darren stayed in your home, but there's no logical reason for him to have stayed here during my recovery, if I was really in a coma since the time we escaped. Social Services never would have let him out of the group home." He couldn't come up with a good excuse, so he said nothing. "No comment? Okay. How about why I have a painting in my studio with your fingerprint, even though you, supposedly, have never been there."

"I think you are severely confused, Ms. Alwin. I've heard that's a side effect of a medically induced coma," he said and moved to his dresser. "Now, I will gladly call you a cab or a doctor, if you need it. But unless you came here for a specific reason, it's late and I would like to go to bed."

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"Make your point, Ms. Alwin, or I'm going to have to ask you to leave. It is pushing nearly three in the morning, and I need some sleep." He took out some clothes and went into the bathroom to change.

"So, what, everything we went through together means nothing to you?" she called after him as he quickly changed into his night clothes. What had she meant? Was she talking about their time in prison? If that was what she wanted, he had no intention of being part of it. He was barely functioning as it was. He was in no condition to help her through whatever she was feeling about their captivity.

"Lieutenant, I don't know what you're after, and I really don't have the energy to try figuring it out." He pushed past her toward the bed as she followed right behind.

"Anthony Edward Stark, don't you dare walk away from me."

It had been quite some time since he had heard his name in that tone. Only his mother had ever said his full name in that tone before. He froze and turned to face her.

"What do you want from me?" he asked.

"How about the truth?" she asked, a hint of confusion and desperation in her eyes. "I've been having these dreams, things the doctors said would be normal. But up until tonight, you were never in them. And since that dream I keep seeing images, memories, that I can't explain. Then Darren told me that you suggested it all be kept a secret. Why, Tony? Why would you leave me like that?"

He averted his gaze, unsure of how to answer her. She had managed to remember. He hadn't expected that. He knew he should have. This was JC he was talking about. She had cheated death enough times to be able to pull off something like this. Still, he hadn't expected a confrontation quite like this. He then turned back to JC, an exasperated look on his face.

"What did you want me to do?" he asked.

"Some of this stuff is still a bit muddy, but after everything that we went through in that cave and what happened with Stane, I thought you would have had the decency to stay around, tell me the truth. But you just walked out, no explanation. Did you want me to hate you again?" she challenged.

"No," he said softly.

"Did you not want me around anymore?"

"No," he repeated.

"Then what? You just stopped caring?"

"I did it, because I care!" he exclaimed, silencing her for a moment. "I wouldn't have done it, if I didn't care," he said more calmly.

"Tony, that doesn't make any sense," she said approaching him.

"It didn't start out that way," he said weakly. "We didn't know what would happen, how or if you would recover. I sat in that room every day waiting, hoping for something. I even started making contingency plans in case the worst thing happened so that Darren wouldn't have to worry about what would happen to him, or worry about whether or not you could be cared for, if it came down to it. I just didn't imagine that the worst thing would be you not remembering us, what we had. You probably don't remember it, but the first time you were coherent in the hospital, I was there. And the last thing you said you remembered was escaping the prison camp. I just…I didn't know what else to do. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to convince you of what really happened. But I could keep you safe from me, so that's what I did."

"Safe from you? Tony, that's–"

"Five times, JC," he said. "That's how many times you have nearly died trying to protect me. Japan, the Ten Rings, Stane…Now that the world has seen Iron Man and knows what it's capable of, more people will come after me to get this tech. If you were still here, it would only put a target on your back, too, including Darren. I was not about to have the guilt of putting you and your son in that kind of danger, or worse, be the cause of your death. I couldn't bear it. I thought it would be better, if I wasn't in the picture anymore. You two could just move on like nothing had happened, and we would all get back to normal," he explained.

"Tony," she said softly, putting a hand to his face, "if it weren't for you, I wouldn't still be here."

He took her hand and removed it, holding it in his as he tried to hold back his emotions.

"You wouldn't be hurt, if it weren't for me. All I've done is nearly get you killed. I almost succeeded this time. I'm not about to let it happen again."

"Before you, I was broken. You helped me see that; but more than that, you helped me move past it, showed me that it was okay to forgive myself. I knew what I was signing on for when I agreed to come back. I wouldn't have done it, if I wasn't prepared for what might happen."

He looked down at her, tears welling up in her eyes. Despite what she said, he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

"They attacked you, because of me. Why would you want to be part of this?"

"Stane did this, not you," she said as she looked in his eyes. "Raza and his men were responsible for what happened in the desert, not you. The terrorists in Japan fired the guns, not you. If there's anything that's happened because of you, it's getting my life back."

Tony looked away, his stress getting to the breaking point. The past several weeks had been hard enough without this. He remembered that day when he came home from the hospital. He locked himself up in his room for a while and vented. His room was still in shambles from his rampage. Even then, his anger and sadness still consumed him. He went from his room to the basement, and anything that stood in his way met a terrible fate either smashed on the floor or thrown about. After all of his energy was gone he had curled up and finally, after so many years, he cried. He cried until his eyes were red and every tear was gone and cried some more. Even then, the pain still would not go away. Now it was back, that pain, the urge to cry all over again. But he couldn't do that, not in front of her. She was strong, and he wanted to be strong for her. He could handle the pain. He was Tony Stark, Iron Man. He was supposed to be invincible.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the heel of her hand, his eyes clenched closed holding back the tears he wanted to shed. She moved her hand to his cheek, his hand holding it there. Only when he was sure the tears would not fall did he open his eyes and stare at her. Her features had softened and looked sympathetic for him.

"I can't lose you, JC. I love you," he admitted. For weeks he had been waiting to say those words, perhaps even longer. Now that they were out, he wasn't sure what would come next.

She brought her hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him down into a soft kiss. He kissed back ever so gently, savoring every moment of her touch, of her taste. As he kissed her, he lost what little control he had and let several tears escape. He reached around and put one hand behind her head, raking his fingers through her hair as he deepened the kiss. He reached around with his other arm and wrapped it around her body, pulling her closer. As he did, she winced and groaned in pain. He immediately pulled away and released her.

"I can't, I can't do this. I can't keep hurting you," he said, averting his gaze. She looked at him sympathetically and put a hand to his chin, turning his face to look at her.

"Then don't," she said softly. "If you leave me now, I will be hurting for the rest of my life. You say it's better if we're apart, but I know that I can never be whole again, if you're not by my side. Tony, I love you."

He looked at her and smiled his first genuine smile since he had left her. Pepper had been right. He had been a fool to ever let her go, no matter the reason. Hearing her say those words erased any other doubts he had. He vowed in that moment that he would do whatever it took for the rest of his life to be the man that deserved her love. He brought her back gently for another kiss before resting his forehead against hers.

"Promise you'll never do that again," she asked.

"I promise. I'll never leave you again. I love you, JC."

AN: Well, I hope you guys enjoyed the end of this story. It has been so much fun revisiting this story and making it better both for people who read the original version but for new readers as well. I haven't decided yet if I will give the sequel the same treatment; plus I have been toying around with another addition that would follow after the events of the third film. Anything that would happen would be completely independent of Infinity War, so don't expect JC to be taking on Thanos; however, it would get to see all the kids grown up and living in the world of superheroes. So if any of that sounds interesting, give a shout out in the reviews and it might just happen! Thanks again for all of your support and if you haven't gotten your fill of JC and Tony, check out the other three Bodyguard stories for further adventures. Happy reading!