Chapter 8: In Pepper's Place
"Thank you."
"For what?" Tony looked over at Steve quizzically as he pressed the button to call the elevator.
"For finding Peggy. For driving me there. For staying while I…" he trailed off, obviously not willing to finish the sentence. Tony nodded and shifted awkwardly.
"Don't mention it."
The elevator finally arrived and Steve hopped in, pressing the number for Tony's floor but not his own. Tony noticed but didn't say anything.
Once they stepped inside Tony's apartment, he headed straight for his bedroom. "Cap, I appreciate you escorting me to my quarters, but I'm fine. You don't have to stay."
But as he came to the doorway, he stopped short. He suddenly realized, his chest beginning to ache, that everything in the room reminded him of Pepper. The comforter she had picked out. Her favorite sweater draped over the black leather armchair she loved to sit and read in. The pain pills she kept on the nightstand in case he woke up in need of them. He could practically feel the gaping absence she'd left behind, and found himself incapable of even entering the room.
Steve walked up behind him, and as if reading his mind, asked softly, "Want some help packing?"
A quick nod from Tony was all Steve needed. "Okay, we'll need boxes."
"JARVIS, do we have boxes somewhere?" Tony asked, turning away from the room.
"Yes, sir, down in your laboratory," the robotic voice of the A.I. replied, "I will have them sent up to you."
Tony turned and saw that the elevator doors had opened, revealing a 4-foot-tall pile of cardboard. The pile proceeded to slide out of the elevator and glide across the floor until stopping directly in front of him. His favorite little bot, whom he fondly called "Jeeves," emerged from behind the pile and beeped a few times in greeting before holding out a roll of tape to Tony.
"Thank you, Jeeves," he said, patting the little robot on the head affectionately before grabbing the tape and a few of the boxes.
"Heads up," Tony called to Steve, who was waiting outside the doorway. He caught the two unfolded boxes and tape that Tony threw to him with incredible ease and disappeared inside the room.
After spending a few minutes in the hallway mentally preparing himself, Tony followed him inside. He was pleased to see that Steve had already assembled the boxes, and the sweater was gone.
"All right, what do you want me to start on?" he asked when he saw Tony come through the door. Tony stared at him dumbly, unsure of what to even tell him to do. Her very essence hung in the room, and that certainly couldn't be packed up in a box.
Steve seemed to understand, and his expression softened. "Okay, how about this." He walked out of the room and returned a few seconds later carrying a stack of pale yellow Post-Its. Tony briefly wondered where he had gotten them, because Tony Stark certainly had no need for Post-It notes, but he dismissed it as Steve handed him the stack. "Stick these on the things that you want gone, and the places where her belongings are. I'll take care of the rest."
Tony nodded numbly and began slowly scanning the room. He noticed that Steve had quietly slipped out to give him some privacy.
He found himself marking so many things that he began to worry he'd be sleeping in a completely empty room by the end of the night. He marked all of the paintings, because she'd carefully picked out each and every one. He marked the comforter, the throw pillows, the rug, and the reading lamp, which she'd ensured all matched perfectly. He marked her closet, her dresser, and the armchair. He marked the photos of them she'd so lovingly displayed on the mantle of the fireplace, placing the notes directly on her smiling face and feeling absolutely no remorse about it.
And then he took out a small velvet box from his bedside drawer, and marked it with shaking hands before placing it on the bed.
He sat there for a few moments in utter silence before Steve hesitantly popped his head into the room.
"Done?" he asked, looking around the room and trying not to look surprised at the incredible amount of yellow notes (but failing miserably).
"Yeah. I'm done."
Steve couldn't help feeling a little guilty about rifling through Pepper's things. In any other situation he would have balked at the idea of committing such a gross invasion of privacy, but he knew that Tony needed this room emptied of her presence. And, truthfully, he felt that he owed a debt to Tony Stark – with his guidance Steve had been able to move on from his old life, and now Tony needed help to do the same.
He started with the clothes. Pepper had thankfully taken all of her delicates with her, but he was still forced to rifle through her drawers and empty them, which he did as quickly as possible. He folded everything as neatly as he could and sorted them to best of his ability. What to do with the clothes in her closet was a bit of a challenge because he didn't want to wrinkle everything, but in the end he decided to slip them into garbage bags and hope for the best.
He labeled every box and carefully wrapped up her little trinkets and jewelry in scarves or shawls. He moved the armchair, the lamp, the paintings, and the rug into the huge storage room at the end of the hall that Tony used for broken robots and machinery, and packed up the throw pillows and comforter in case Pepper wanted them.
The hardest thing for him was the packing of the "Tony Box." There were some things he knew that Tony shouldn't give back to Pepper. All of the pictures that were displayed on the mantle, the clothes she had bought for him, and especially the little velvet box.
It was the last thing he packed, and Steve hadn't been able to help himself and had opened the box to take a peek. Inside he found an absolutely breathtaking engagement ring, and the description wasn't even an exaggeration on his part, as he was pretty sure he'd stopped breathing when he saw it.
It wasn't garish or ridiculously large as he had expected – It was a simple, elegant gold band with a square diamond. He could practically see Pepper's name written all over it. Tony had taken great care to find this particular ring for her, that much was clear.
Steve's heart ached as he gazed at the glittering diamond. Peggy would have loved a ring like this. How was it that he and Tony had both been so unfairly robbed of a future with the women they loved? What exactly had they done wrong?
He sighed and gently placed the ring on top of a suit coat Pepper had either liked or had picked out for Tony, and closed the box. He looked around the room, making sure he hadn't missed anything. It looked pretty sad and empty, but Tony's work desks were still untouched and it seemed the TV and stereo system didn't have many Pepper memories associated with them.
It would be a hard first night sleeping without her, that much Steve knew. But he hoped that Tony would eventually overcome it, like he was trying to do.
After marking the Tony Box, he brought it to the storage room and gently placed it on the armchair. The rest of the boxes he loaded onto the elevator with Jeeves, who would store them down in the basement until Pepper called with her new address.
"Hey, I finished," Steve called to Tony, who was currently lounging in the living room with a glass of scotch, watching some incredibly dull program on the History Channel about paper production.
Tony looked up and feigned an expression of disinterest, but the pain in his eyes gave him away. "All right," was all he could say, but Steve knew there was a "thank you" hidden in there somewhere.
After a short awkward pause, Tony grabbed his scotch and headed to his room. Steve followed him to the door and waited for Tony to assess his work.
He walked inside like a lost child, looking around the room as if he had never seen it before. "It looks good," he said, his voice coming out strangely hoarse. He grimaced at the sound and Steve pretended not to notice.
"Did I miss anything?"
Tony looked around again, his eyes somewhere else. "No, I don't think so."
"Okay." Steve watched Tony worriedly, waiting for some sort of indication of whether he wanted him to stay or go. "Tony?"
He watched as Tony collapsed onto the bed and put his head in his hands. Steve didn't want to leave until he was sure that he'd be okay. But how could someone be okay in a situation like this, really?
Deciding he'd just stick around for a little while longer, he walked over to the bed and carefully sat down next to his friend. The two sat there in companionable silence for a few moments before Tony emerged from behind his hands and looked over at Steve.
"You going to sleepover or something, Rogers?" A ghost of a smile spread across Tony's face and Steve felt a wave of relief. It was progress, at the very least.
"Yeah. I was thinking we could watch some movies, eat popcorn, and braid each others' hair," he replied coolly, scooting up to rest on Tony's pillows and folding his arms behind his head lazily.
Tony quirked an eyebrow, but then his face suddenly lit up with an idea. "I know exactly what we should watch. JARVIS, my DVD collection please."
"Here you are, sir," the A.I. replied as a previously unnoticeable door to the right of the flat screen swung open to reveal shelves upon shelves of DVD's. Tony hopped off the bed with a spring to his step and Steve began to get very, very nervous. What was this movie, and why was Tony so excited about it?
After a few moments of rifling through the shelves, Tony uttered a triumphant "Aha!" and emerged with an unlabeled black movie case.
"What is that?" Steve asked cautiously as Tony slipped the DVD from its container and popped it into the player. His stomach sank as Tony turned around and flashed him a toothy grin.
"Let's find out, shall we?" He pressed a button on the remote and fell back onto the bed next to Steve, his eyes glued to the screen in anticipation.
For a few moments there was just static, but then a triumphant trumpet melody blared from the surround sound speakers and Steve's mouth opened in horror as a face suddenly appeared on the screen.
And not just any face. His face.
"T-Tony!" he sputtered, bolting up in the bed, "What is this?"
Tony grinned maliciously and settled back into the pillows. "What? You don't recognize your own face?"
"Of course I recognize my own face," Steve snapped, "What I don't understand is why it's on your television!"
"This," Tony explained, "is a three-hour documentary on Captain America: A Remembrance." He threw out his arms towards the TV dramatically as an inspirational montage of black and white shots of Steve in costume started playing.
"You're kidding me."
"I am certainly not kidding you. Shall I make the popcorn?"
"I don't want to watch a three-hour documentary on myself! This is completely ridiculous!" Steve fumed, grimacing as he watched a scene of himself dancing awkwardly on a stage with three pretty female dancers.
"You suggested this, Rogers—not me."
"I did not suggest we watch a three-hour memorial documentary about me."
"You look funny when you shoot a gun. Have you noticed that? Look at your face, Steve. Look at it. That is not an attractive face."
Steve looked at the TV, feeling slightly offended, but after a few moments of taking in the image on the screen he frowned. Tony was right. He did look funny.
"Well I'm terribly sorry Tony, let me just hop in my time machine and I'll fix that right up."
"Good. While you do that, I'll make some popcorn."
Tony got up and headed to the kitchen, leaving Steve to stare in distaste at what was happening on the screen. Television Steve was currently running in slow motion towards the camera while multiple bombs went off in the background. Real Steve was 99% sure that had never happened.
After two more agonizing inspirational montages, Tony finally returned with the popcorn. He plopped a bowl in front of Steve and lay back down onto the bed, tossing a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth.
"I think the part where you punch Hitler is coming up," he said in between mouthfuls.
Steve rolled his eyes. "I didn't actually punch Hitler."
The two were quiet for a moment, just watching the screen, until Steve said something that made Tony abruptly stop eating his popcorn and completely refocus his attention.
"I don't understand why everyone thought I was so great."
It was a quiet comment, but there was so much conviction in the statement that Tony couldn't help but turn to Steve, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"What do you mean?"
Steve looked down at the bed, unable to hold Tony's intense stare. "I mean… I'm no more heroic than any other guy you'd find walking down the street. You said it yourself: look at how I was acting when I woke up here. I spent all day feeling sorry for myself. I went on missions and did what I was supposed to but I didn't… I didn't feel anything. No call of duty, or hunger for justice. Superheroes are supposed to want to help people, and fight for what's right. All I wanted to do was die."
Tony was silent for a moment, absorbing the speech. "Listen to me, Grandpa," he began slowly, seemingly choosing his words carefully, "Back in your time, you became Captain America because you wanted to help people and do the right thing. I know you did, because if you hadn't, my father would have seen right through you. And now you're living in a world that you don't belong in, so naturally you don't feel right. But it's no coincidence that you're our leader. You may not feel it, but you're still the same person you were, with the same convictions. Just because you're a little fucked up right now doesn't make you any less of a hero."
Steve was silent for a very long time, staring at the television with misty eyes. Then he lay back down onto the pillows, folded his hands over his chest, and looked over at Tony. "Thank you."
And that was all that was said that night. Steve didn't ask Tony to stop the movie, even when Peggy's face appeared on the screen during the interview portion. They watched the whole thing, and Steve was actually glad to have seen it by the end.
He could still be that person. It wasn't too late. Just because he had to adjust to a different time didn't mean he had to lose himself. The face on the screen had seemed like a stranger a few hours ago, but now he had begun to recognize it. And for the first time in a long time, the future he'd been imagining didn't seem so bleak.
Tony had just gotten up to get something from the kitchen when Steve felt himself dozing off. He tried to fight it, but he was so exhausted from the day's events that he gave in and let himself slip under.
Tony returned with the wine and stopped short in the doorway. Steve Rogers was asleep in his bed.
It was a sight, to be certain. The bed was huge, and it actually made the beefy Captain America look rather small. But even more strange was the part of the bed he had chosen. He had quite literally taken Pepper's place—he was sleeping on the same side of the bed that she used to, in almost the exact position.
Tony sighed. What should he do now? He knew that Steve wouldn't appreciate being shaken awake, and after putting him through that insufferable three-hour documentary, Tony kind of owed him.
But he didn't want to leave, either. This was his bedroom!
After another sigh and a swig of wine, he decided to just screw it and climb in. The bed was big enough that they wouldn't be bumping into each other in the middle of the night, and Tony was too tired to think of an alternative.
He would never admit to it, but part of him was relieved that he wouldn't have to sleep alone.
After quietly commanding JARVIS to shut off the lights, he slipped into bed. Sleep overtook him in a matter of minutes.
But as was all too well known, Tony Stark rarely had a restful night's sleep. It was around two in the morning that the nightmares began, and they were ten times worse than any others before. A dark cave, a shadowy face, blood all over… He screamed as pain ripped through his chest and he kept calling for help but no one could hear him, no one was there, no one but the darkness… It was closing in on him from all sides, robbing him of his oxygen and his senses, dragging him under, sucking away his very being…
And then it was gone. Tony's eyes opened to a dark room, but he wasn't afraid. He wasn't afraid because of the two warm hands he felt—one on his arm, and one gently squeezing his shaking hand.
Relief flooded through him. Pepper's still here. It was all just a bad dream.
If he had been a little more alert, he would have noticed that the hand gripping his own was much larger and stronger than a woman's would have been. And if he had bothered to glance over at the other side of the bed, he would have seen a pair of blue eyes—much too light in color to belong to Pepper—staring at him in concern in the dim light.
But unfortunately, all Tony did was fall right back to sleep.
Author's Note:
Hello! So this chapter... is LONG. I did promise you a long one, so here it is! I had some trouble getting through it, especially trying to make the dialogue the way I wanted. I sincerely hope you like it.
The end of this chapter is the beginning of something very beautiful, and I just can't wait to keep writing.
Also, I usually won't post the next update until I get a good amount of reviews, just so I know the story is still doing what I want it to. So please review with your thoughts if you'd like me to continue!
Love,
magicinthemoonlight29