Do I still need to tell you that I don't own Iron Man? Well. I don't.
Chapter 11
There's not much hope left, and Tony can feel bits and pieces of himself fading as the days slowly pass. Knowledge, Memories and feelings from the past are no longer there when he calls upon them, and it's scary. His incapacitating headaches and episodes of memory loss are testament to his failing mind. He wonders how long it will be before his brain is so overwhelmed that he loses everything and his memory is wiped clean. At this rate, he probably only has a couple weeks.
The electrode treatments are working, but only temporarily. As soon as he removes them, the Extremis resumes its attack on his mind.
He figures he might as well try his final option, since he's facing imminent death otherwise. If he implants the electrodes directly into his brain and creates a contained program within them to constantly emit the frequencies he needs, that should solve his problem. He's done the math and it makes sense, but thanks to the Extremis, his healing factor will probably reject whatever he tries to do.
Either way, he probably won't make it through this. The Extremis will fully overwhelm his brain and he won't be able to take it. But he tries not to think about it. Tony clings to the small shreds of hope he has.
"Tony," Pepper calls, her mouth set in a tight line. "Tony?" When Tony doesn't respond, she grabs his chin and pulls his face up to look at her. She can see the glossy look in his eyes, the near-permanent grimace fixed upon his face. She runs her hand up and down the length of his jaw, waiting for the fog to slowly fade from his eyes. When he finally sees her, he closes his eyes and grunts tiredly.
"Tony," Pepper begins again. "You need to get some help. Why don't you go to the hospital?"
He immediately opens his eyes and stares at her incredulously. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly the average patient." He raises a hand to tap the arc reactor, flinching a bit at the pain the sudden movement brings.
"Then we'll be more secretive about it. Get a private room and a doctor that won't talk. We can make it work." She's hoping for a miracle, trying to get Tony to feel the same optimism she is tricking herself into feeling.
"No, Pepper, I'm better off here. Jarvis can do the same scans that the hospital can, anyway." He is quickly becoming irritated.
Pepper takes a step back from him, removing her hands from his face. Her tone rises, angry and aggravated. "Well, what you're doing obviously isn't working, Tony. Look at you. You need something permanent."
He raises his eyebrows. "You think I don't know that? Pepper, I've got to think about my healing factor. Anything I try to implant in my brain to fix it will most likely be rejected by my body as it tries to heal. There are other implications that you're not considering."
She shifts her weight to her other leg, resting her hands on her hips. "I'm not a doctor, and I'm not an engineer either, Tony, so I'm sorry if my brain isn't always on the same page as yours. I'm just telling you that it seems like you could use some help, instead of just moping around here."
Tony rises from his chair, gaping at her. "You think I'm not trying? You think I want to die, Pepper? I've spent the past 3 weeks stuck down here, trying to find a permanent cure! Nothing works! All I have is a quick remedy to temporarily block the pain, but that won't stop my memories or thoughts from disappearing. There's nothing left to do!" He's talking loudly now, and Pepper turns away, eyes wet with sudden tears. It's only when she speaks again that he realizes exactly how upset she is.
"Okay, Tony," Pepper says, her voice made quiet by the anguish and distress of his predicament. She's still not looking at him. "Okay." And then she walks quickly to the glass door, disappearing up the stairs, purposely avoiding his gaze the entire way.
He thinks about going after her, but it wouldn't do any good.
R&R, please!