Finally! A short chapter, but we are almost to the end. Sorry for the long wait. Real life definitely tends to get in the way. Enjoy…and hope everyone had a Merry Christmas!

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Even though he couldn't see any of it, he knew it was there. The lights, buildings, even the ocean with all its secrets and undiscovered creatures lurking beneath the water's surface.

Everything was a blur; a separation, an obstacle to be overcome. Only a few more miles now, but it felt as if he'd been on this road his entire life trying to reach his destination.

There was a voice inside him, a child's voice full of hope, a young man's voice not yet jaded by the world, telling him this was it. He was on the doorstep of Losing Everything in a way he hadn't before. Sure, Pepper had left him and moved to San Francisco, but she was still there - a phone call, a flight away. Max - his son, his second chance - lived too many miles away, but he too was there, within arm's reach. But now everything was different. Arm's reach just wasn't close enough anymore. Not when his son needed him. Not when Pepper needed him, and he needed her. God forbid anything happen to Max, Tony knew that nothing would ever be the same for him, let alone between him and Pepper.

He'd been fighting it, everything he'd felt for her, and even recently, he'd been telling himself he would live with it if she decided he was out of chances. He would make the most of it. Fuck that. Really. To hell with acting as if giving her up had ever been an option. To hell with trying to be a father from hundreds of miles away.

There was a realization as the hospital spilled into view, the thought sharp and beautiful as he careened into the sidewalk at the side of the hospital, pulling his body from the suit. The salty ocean air burned his skin and eyes, and he squinted against the coarseness of the wind blowing in off the ocean. There was no going back from this feeling, from this awakening. The journey was different now, not one of discovery, but of acceptance. For Pepper, for Max, there was nothing he could change or do over. This was where he was, and this was his life, and even though he did not want to love Pepper, he did. He had never planned on having children, and now he did not know how he would ever survive without Max. But, no matter what was beyond the doors, no matter what happened, the thought ran endlessly and insistently through his mind: We're a family. Improbable and thrown together by fate and circumstance and a love that would not be denied, although time and human frailty had tried to render everything between them invalid, it had ultimately prevailed in its own fragmented way.

It was real, and it was his, and he wasn't going to give up any of it without a fight. If only his feet would carry him to them faster. Slipping into the elevator, he began bargaining with God, he began promising that he would be different. "Just don't take my son from me," he whispered aloud. "I'll change," he promised. No more hiding and hoping Pepper perceived his intentions, no more sidelining at a safe distance, just in case it didn't work out between them. No more leaving Pepper and his son behind while he went on as if he were okay with the arrangement.

The three of them shared a sense of belonging, a unique and fragile bond that was strengthened during phone calls and end-of-the-month visits. His son cried for him when he wasn't there, and he thought maybe, just maybe, Pepper missed him as well. As he left her month after month, she lingered, never giving much away, but her presence, her solid, consistent presence and her wide smile were a kind of light in the darkness.

He could only pray he wasn't out of chances. Don't take my son from me, he pleaded.

The pediatric wing was decorated with landscapes done in primary colors; jovial, wide-eyed smiling crayon children holding balloons, arms extended toward their crayon parent counterparts. Tony's sense of future-filled hope came to a screeching halt as he emerged from one hallway into another and saw Pepper.

Calling out to her, he picked up his pace, and she turned toward him. He was kneeled in front of her before she had time to rise from her chair to greet him. Falling into him she was boneless and too thin, she was all edges of razor-sharp grief. "Pepper," he said, wrapping his arms tightly around her, dropping a kiss on her forehead, "tell me how he is, what happened."

Pepper cried into his shoulder and mumbled, "He's stable, finally. But not out of the woods. The doctor said he should be fine, but…it was too close, Tony" her words muffled against his neck.

"Where is he? I want to see him," Tony said.

Pepper nodded and pulled away, ran the palms of her hands across her cheeks, "Yes," she said, pushing up from her chair. "I only came out here because I just needed a minute, I- I," she stumbled over her explanation. "I don't want to be upset around him. He doesn't know what's going on, but babies sense things, I know he does, and I want him to feel safe not upset because of me."

Tony nodded, following her down the short hallway and into Max's room. His crib looked like a sort of prison baby bed with its iron bars and sterile white sheets. There were too many tubes and wires hooked up to him; he seemed too small to sustain such invasions. But Tony was thankful for the electrodes that informed him of his son's steady heartbeat.

"Max," he whispered, stepping to the side of the crib, cupping his son's small head in the palm of his hand. Max slept on, oblivious to his father's presence. Pepper turned away but leaned against Tony's side, her head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. "It's okay now," he said. "We're going to be okay," he promised. Pepper grabbed Tony's hand and swallowed the fear as best she could. "What happened, Pepper? What's wrong with him?"

Pepper turned her head so she was facing the baby, but continued to rest against Tony's shoulder. "He had a cold, nothing serious. That's what I thought. I told the sitter not to come today, I wanted to stay home with him. I was going to take him to the doctor because I didn't want the cold to turn into anything serious, and because he'd been running a fever, no big deal, right?" Taking a deep breath, she reached over and let her hand pass over Max's body. "Just a cold, that's what I thought. Apparently there is a respiratory virus babies are susceptible to – RSV - and it can be serious, sometimes fatal, and that's what he has, not a cold. He could barely breathe, he was turning a grayish-blue. It was…God, what am I doing, being a mother, Tony? When I think of what could have happened because of my –"

Tony interrupted, "This is not your fault, Pepper. Jesus. You can't help that he got sick. He's a kid. That will happen. This was nothing you did. I am sure it happens every day. He's going to be fine, that's all that really matters."

"This isn't what I planned, having him, being a mother - but I've tried so damned hard," she whispered, her cheek against his.

Tony ran his hand up her spine, until his fingers wrapped around the base of her skull, his thumb sweeping over the tender skin behind her ear. "You're a good mother, Pep. The best. Believe me when I tell you that, because I wouldn't ever leave my son and go back to Malibu if I thought for even a second that you weren't loving him and caring for him with everything you have. "

A half sob wrangled its way out of Pepper's mouth, a gust of air against Tony's cheek, and she brought a hand up to her face, overwhelmed by the moment, in so many ways, by all the moments that led to she and Tony standing over their son's hospital bed. "It's just that I love him so much, Tony, so much more than I ever imagined I could love anyone," she admitted.

"I know," he said. The hand resting on the back of her neck slipped to her cheek, and Tony turned her until they were eye to eye. "Everything is going to be okay." He searched her eyes for acceptance, but found something sweeter there. Pepper nodded her head, believing him as their lips came together sweetly and softly.