The Last Chronicle

by Miss Starfire

After years of struggling to build their lives together, Tony Stark and Pepper Potts have lost everything. But as all-out war looms, and the fate of the world hangs in the balance, Tony and Pepper are ready to take it all back. It has all come down to this. Story 8 of 8. The epic finale to The Last Chronicles Saga.

19. The Last Chapter

The Last Chapter

"Today marks yet another anniversary of the start of what has been aptly named: The Doom War. While lasting no more than three months, the devastating results of the late Dr. Victor von Doom's attempt at taking over the planet are still felt around the world today. Thousands of mourning people worldwide gathered at the memorials to remember the loved ones lost during the initial day of the tragedy or throughout subsequent events…"

Thousands, the redhead thought bitterly as the news reporter's voice continued in the background with her rather extensive late-night coverage of the attacks.

First, there'd been billions mourning, then millions, and now thousands.

How quickly people moved on.

Why could she not do the same?

Her eyes returned to the television screen, even though she knew what she was about to see. It was the same bullshit reporting every time. The same unnecessarily convoluted and chopped-up story that had been portrayed since telecommunications had been restored to major cities and everyone had started pointing fingers at everyone else. She was not certain why she allowed herself to watch these poorly-researched documentaries. They hardly ever changed. Flawed theories, false reports, and even personal attacks against the Saviors of the World were always present. From what could have been done better, to what the critics and experts would have done in their place; there was always something new or recently discovered that came to the surface – and most of the media used these false accusations to do what they did best: manipulate the masses and keep people angry and afraid.

What if another madman tried a similar stunt?

What if another group of vigilantes took it upon themselves to save the world?

What if the actions of these vigilantes had been more trouble than what they were worth?

Her gaze lowered to the floor.

In hindsight, every critic, every military expert, every government agency and, sometimes, even full-of-themselves celebrities just knew with absolute certainty what would have been the best plan of action to prevent or end Doom's war. In hindsight, everyone was better suited and qualified to do a superior job than the one the Saviors of the World had performed. And that was not even touching upon the Stark Death Scandal, as it had come to be known, when it was revealed to the world that the two young CEOs had not perished in a plane explosion as everyone had believed. Everyone had a little conspiracy theory and something to say about that situation, too.

In hindsight, Pepper Potts-Stark would have let these morons do everything they thought was best, if only to watch them fail miserably when executing their ill-constructed plans.

They had not been there. She had.

They had not lost half of their heart that day. She had.

They would never understand what sacrifices the members of the resistance had made to save the world. She did.

"Plans to rebuild Central Park are being discussed by city officials, and Stark International has been at the forefront of the talks. Stark Solutions has also expressed interest in financially supporting the cause, but only after their efforts of supporting the developing countries still stricken by the attacks is complete. CEO and Co-owner of multinational corporation Stark Solutions, Patricia Potts-Stark, issued a written statement in which…"

"Pepper?" his gentle voice made her look up from the floor, but not at him. She did not have the energy to face his disapproving gaze, so he pressed on.

"Pepper, why are you watching this shit?"

"I don't know," she lazily shrugged.

Rhodey sighed loudly, finished putting on his t-shirt, walked over to the living room, sat next to the redhead, and then held her hands in his.

"Sweetie, you gotta stop doing this to yourself. Just come back to bed, OK? You know the media ain't never gonna wanna get it right. They just don't care for it. The truth doesn't sell. Tragedy does."

Pepper smiled resentfully at his statement, finally locked eyes with him, and spoke after a shuddering sigh.

"If tragedy sells, and if the media knew the real story – what really happened in Latveria, they'd sell more than they do now."

xxxXXXxxx

After she had finished her countdown and had witnessed nothing happen, no change in the blue-eyed genius's condition, she had thrown herself upon her husband's body and refused to let go. The others had gathered around her, slowly recovering from their own injuries, carefully carrying those who were still unconscious, and Maria Hill had called in a transport to come pick them up.

Once it was clear that everything had calmed down, Magneto had used his power to rip away a large portion of the castle, allowing the group to gather their comrades and exit the forsaken structure without having to find their own way. They had expressed to the mutant villain their reluctant but genuine gratitude for his assistance outside the castle, and after returning his own, equally reluctant well-wishes to them, he had flown off for parts unknown, living by his word to his friend Charles Xavier that he would cause no trouble for the group on this occasion. They had been troubled enough.

She was not sure how long she had waited there on the ground, holding Tony's motionless body in her arms, although she knew it could not have been long. She was not sure how much time had passed since they had pried his stiff form from her grip, let alone where on Earth the Quinjet was flying them above now. The only thing she could recall with any clarity was that, about half an hour after the aircraft had taken off, all of the windows had filled with the bright light of a massive explosion far behind them; the Earth Movers finally detonating, erasing the castle and taking a fair portion of the empty, nearby capital city with it.

Everything was so confusing and distorted after that – the voices, the faces; the reality of it all. She had no idea how much time had passed since the explosions, or where they were now, although she supposed they must have stopped at Muir Island at some point and then continued on towards North America. All that was truly real to her at the moment was her sleeping son's little beating heart, pumping rapidly against her pain-filled chest that refused to let go of hope.

Refused to welcome grief.

Although Nurse Owen was not here to force her into medically-induced unconsciousness to sleep away the never-ending pain, the sense of déjà vu was crippling to her soul. His skin had been clammy and cold. His eyes wide open, yet devoid of life. He had left this world, in her arms, by her hand. And she had no one to blame for it but herself.

Had she acted too rashly?

Had she done the wrong thing?

Would her son ever forgive her for what she had done?

Would she ever forgive herself, even if no one accused her?

She felt tears return and she closed her eyes, but only for a moment, as Whitney's voice snapped her back to her cruel life.

"Pepper?" the blonde began, "It's been a few hours since… and… We-we need to… freeze them. But… you know, once it's done…"

Agent Stane knew there was no need to finish her statement, so she opted to offer her help to hold and care for the child while the ginger was gone. Pepper stole one last look at her son, gently kissed his forehead, and then handed him to one of the women that had relentlessly helped her recover him from the depths of Latverian hell.

Pepper stood up from her seat, yet she did not look over her shoulder as she walked towards her destination. She did not have to do so to realize – to know, that all eyes were glued to her retreating form towards the back of the aircraft.

That was where they kept the recoverable bodies of some of those who had not made it, after all.

That was where they kept the body of Tony Stark.

xxxXXXxxx

"Mama?"

Both Rhodey and Pepper turned towards the hall to see James Howard Stark, in all his 26-month old glory, barely holding a blanket in one hand and a sippy cup in the other. Typically, when he was wide awake, he was not as shy or downcast as he looked right now. However, it was two hours past his bedtime, and while it appeared that he had slept some, his red face and eyes told the ginger what had happened, for the third time this week, to startle the comfort out of her son.

"Nightmares?" Pepper stood up from the couch and walked over to where her sniffling child stood.

"Yes, Mama," the toddler replied, as clearly and as confidently as a child of a much-older age would have done. The heir to Stark Solutions was, without a doubt, his father's son; the more time that went by, the more the boy surpassed the bounds that every child development book had set as normal milestones for growth and development in such a young child.

"Want to talk about it?" Pepper asked, hoping that verbalizing his fears would ease his doubts and help him get back to sleep, but the boy rapidly shook his head to dismiss the thought. He knew better than to tell her what he had dreamt about – what had woken him up in tears. Talking about his daddy always made his mommy sad. And he hated seeing his mommy cry.

"Do you want me to help you get back to sleep?"

"Please?" Howie replied, remembering clearly that his mother had taught him that, when you needed someone to do something for you, you always asked nicely for help by voicing that simple phrase.

Oh, if only his father was around right now to see what a good little boy he was turning out to be – how good he was with his mommy – just as he had promised his daddy he would be. If only his father had not left him and his mom all alone. If only his daddy had not been left behind in that place he used to call home.

How different his life would be!

xxxXXXxxx

She rested her forehead against the metal door and closed her eyes while she gathered the courage she needed to face the truth. She knew what awaited her behind the entrance to the medical room of the largest Quinjet ever built, and that she had ever seen. A Quinjet that Tony had helped design – one that was reinforced with vibranium and could carry every member of the resistance back home after everything was said and done.

Home, she thought dismally. Once again, and even though she had believed this would never be the case once more for her, she was not sure where Home was.

People always said that home was where someone's heart was. Yet, currently, Pepper did not even know where her brain was. And she did not want to know, either, as she knew that once the brain fog began dissipating – once the rush of winning a war against the most powerful dictator on the planet wore away – all she would accomplish would be confirming that one cannot identify their home by using their heart, when one's heart is incomplete.

And an incomplete heart could never truly have a home.

Her palm slammed against the digital scanner placed on the right side of the door. The device – clearly Stark-made – immediately recognized her handprint, uttered her superhero codename with a warm welcome, and unlocked the door for her. Her gaze was fixed onto the floor as she began slowly walking inside the room once the door slid open, raising her head only when she reached the location of the closest fallen member of the resistance: General Nicholas Joseph Fury.

Pepper's bottom lip trembled. Her eyes clouded in tears. And despite all the bad times with this individual she should have been invoking at the moment to keep her emotions in check, all she could focus on was the fact that the man before her had always been on their side – right until the bitter end.

"Asshole," she spat the insulting word with a tone that spoke of everything but harsh intent. "You could've told us you were dying to keep us safe!"

But he had not. He had kept his illness to himself. Although she had been able to see his illness and had informed Tony of it, they had had no idea how long Fury had lived with his sickness or what use he had put it to. He had used it to bargain with Aldrich Killian – to make the mad scientist believe that the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. had his own personal agenda to fulfill, and that he cared nothing for the safety of the world he had been tasked to protect. He could have received treatment elsewhere. He could have retired and enjoyed the rest of his days in peace. But he had not. He had chosen to remain on duty. He had clung to his post. He had used his lack of health to gather intel; to make sure he died for a good reason rather than just because cancer was reaching his brain.

And he had died, in the end, for her.

"Thank you," her hand pressed against his cold one. "General Fury: thank you."

Her eyes remained on his face for a little longer, trying not to recall how he had stood between Tony and her, but it was impossible to do so. He was dead because of it – dead sooner than needed, at least.

All because of her.

xxxXXXxxx

"CEO and Co-owner of multinational corporation Stark Solutions, Patricia Potts-Stark, issued a written statement in which she pledged to support the reconstruction of damaged landmarks on U.S. soil. But she also reinforced the well-known company goal to first help those who had been dislocated from their homes due to the decimation of major cities and entire countries, courtesy of the deranged actions of Dr. Victor von Doom."

The continuation of the news anchor rehashing what he already knew to be partial lies became nothing but background noise as he forced himself to open the one book he had been avoiding perusing once again, as he had done for months on end. He was not sure why he kept putting himself through watching what the media said, or why he insisted on making a hypocrite of himself by sorting through old memories. Perhaps, it was just because he was adamant that more exposure to what had happened six months ago would be highly beneficial in his state. Or perhaps, it was just because he had nothing else to do.

Or, more truthfully than anything else he could pretend it to be, it was because he missed them both. So damn much.

xxxXXXxxx

Her next stop was before the woman who had been through hell and back, more so than the redhead ever had been in her entire life. Being taken by Whitney, by Ghost, by the Maggia, falling from a ten-story building, finding out she had been given life just because she had been a failed science experiment, and losing her belongings and memories on multiple occasions, did not compare to what Maya Hansen had suffered through. She had been a prisoner without having to be locked up. She had been dragged into a world of crime and destruction without wanting to be part of it, and without having a choice in the matter. Her loved ones had paid with their lives for her failures; and her life had been cut short in her prime for standing up for what was right.

Her only real "crime?" Falling in love with Tony Stark.

From the four bodies currently being kept in this makeshift morgue, her body was the only one that was covered up to her chest with a blanket. Cleaning up the others' wounds had been a relatively easy task for Dr. Hank McCoy, at least in comparison to what the young woman's cause of death had been. Maya Hansen's body was the most damaged of them all, and had Pepper not seen the body herself when she had removed it from atop her son's body, she would have thought that the gorgeous brunette was simply taking a nap.

Other than some bruises and scratches on her once delicate facial skin, her face did not hint at all to the gaping hole that had once been her midsection. The lower half of her body was barely connected to her upper – it had taken four people to carry her to make sure she did not fall apart on her way to a gurney. What had not been disintegrated by Doom's attack from the back had been charred beyond recognition. Some parts of her legs still had tissue – other areas did not even have any bones left.

And to think that once, weeks ago, Pepper had tried to crush the woman's neck for taking her son away from her – for letting her think, for months, that he had passed away. And to think that, in the end, Maya Hansen was now dead just so that James Howard Stark was not.

Pepper's tears were renewed when only croaking sounds came out of her mouth. She had both boatloads to say and nothing at all on the tip of her tongue. This woman had been her friend; despite the unspoken romantic rivalry that had existed between them at some point in their lives. Even if some atrocious things had been done by her, they paled in comparison to what had been done to her. And for years to come, Pepper would wonder if the only reason why her son had not truly died on the first try was because Maya had kept him alive – in Latveria – as long as she possibly could have.

"Thank you," the ginger finally said, unable to form any other words.

Although this expression did not symbolize how indebted she truly felt to her technical stepsister, at the end of it all, it did not matter what she told the brunette or how much Pepper apologized to the woman. In the end, at this moment, and for all eternity, Maya Hansen was long gone.

xxxXXXxxx

Rhodey waited patiently while Pepper returned from tending to her son. He leaned the back of his head against the top edge of the couch, closed his eyes, and sighed slowly and sadly. As little as this was his fault – the latest S.H.I.E.L.D. mission that General Maria Hill had assigned War Machine and Chameleon had been nothing but difficult and long – he still felt like a failure for falling asleep before Pepper had. He was supposed to be watching over her, not the other way around. She was the one that needed the comfort, not he.

Nevertheless, Pepper never really made it easy for someone to take care of her – at least not until she was about to burst into tears. Or at least not by anyone other than by Tony Stark.

And that was the problem Rhodey faced every day, ever since he had moved in with Pepper: he was not Tony Stark.

xxxXXXxxx

"Jarvis," Pepper whispered the man's name while she ran the back of her hand down his cold face. "We should've never taken you with us. We should've made you stay behind."

As much as Pepper wanted to think that the long-time friend and butler of the Stark family was going to simply remain cross-armed and completely uninvolved in the recovery attempt of her son, she knew that it was no one's decision but his to do what he had done. Pepper had pleaded with him, on more than one occasion, to return to the States with Bambi and everyone else. She had known that leaving the safety of Muir Island was not the best of options, but it was definitely better than heading to Latveria to fight.

"My son will miss you. I will miss you. We… we-we all will."

Except Tony, she thought with renewed tears. Except the man you died for. Except the man you died trying to protect.

xxxXXXxxx

With a little help from her technique of aura manipulation, putting James to sleep had been easy to do. Once the little boy had been rid of his feelings of fear and guilt, he had quickly snuggled with his panda bear and had conked out. The ginger had watched him sleep for a few minutes, if just to be sure that he would no longer wake up scared in the middle of the night. And once he had begun suckling on his thumb in his slumber, she had rushed to the bathroom and she had locked herself inside.

As much as she would forever hate having no control over what she had been created to be, and of the abilities that came with it, it was in times like these that she thanked Gene for helping her learn how to heal others by using her powers to see what was wrong with them and replacing their emotional energy with hers. The only downside to this gift that Gene had failed to talk to her about before he had died, she had come to learn, was that constantly taking grief away from others meant she carried it around instead – sometimes for several excruciating days.

Pepper bit the inside of her mouth to keep her from screaming in agony and pain. The amount of sorrow that her son had just been carrying around with him a little while ago was too much for a child. Too much for his little body. Too much for a little boy that had already suffered enough. Even though it hurt her every time she cleansed his aura; even if it physically, mentally and spiritually crippled her for days on end, she would continue to endure taking from her child the sadness he did not deserve to have.

He already knew and understood too much, for his young age. He had already taken on too much. It was up to her to take from him the sorrow she had caused him in the first place. No matter the cost.

xxxXXXxxx

She fell to her knees once she stood in front of him, all energy and will leaving her in the blink of an eye. Her eyes were barely usable enough for her to pull the lever that dropped the gurney to its lowest setting, allowing her to throw half her body on his while she remained on the floor, clinging to his body for what felt like an eternity. Her fingers clutched at his clothes until her knuckles were white. The left side of her face pressed against his chest, hoping to hear even the slightest hint of a beating heart or feel the rising of his lung cavity. Her tears were so overpowering that she felt she was going to literally drown in them. And no matter how long she waited and waited, how much she begged him to breathe and to hear his heart pump, Tony Stark remained as dead as he had been after she had killed him to save her life.

"T-Tony… I… I… I'm s-s-o-so-r-ry…"

She closed her eyes and allowed an almost inhuman bellow to exit her lips. She desperately clawed at him, called his name, and kissed every bit of exposed skin she could find, all of these being the only actions she could do before his body was artificially frozen to slow down its decay.

"I love you, Tony," she sobbed and pressed her forehead against his. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so much!"

She kissed his lips one last time, apologized once more for ending his life, and then wiped his cold skin clean of her tears.

"So much," she repeated. "So… so much…"

She gazed at him longingly, burning the image of his serene face in her brain. Even if it had been somewhere around twenty-four hours since he had passed, she could still smell his natural scent on him. It permeated her nostrils, brought memories of their times together, and harshly reminded her that she would never again feel his skin hot against hers – she would never again be protected and comforted by the power of his touch; by the spirit of his love for her.

"I love you," she whispered with finality. "I love you, my Tony Stark."

She slowly stood up from the floor, lifted the gurney to its maximum height as she did so, and then closed her eyes while she pulled her hands away from him. She turned around in place, walked away from him and towards the door, and then nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a loud, painful-sounding gasp behind her. The gasp was followed by many more. Although his eyes did not immediately open, his mouth did. He was struggling to bring air back into his lungs, but his hand still clutched to hers, once she had ran back to him.

He's alive, she did not dare to voice her thoughts as her eyes watched his chest move up and down. How… how…He… he's alive!

"RHODEY!" Pepper screamed over her shoulder, refusing to let go of Tony's shaking hand. "RHOOOOOODEYYYYY!"

xxxXXXxxx

"The fate of the few remaining citizens of Latveria was once more a heated worldwide topic, this time discussed during the inaugural events at the opening of the United Nations' temporary headquarters in Copenhagen, Denmark. King T'Challa of Wakanda firmly expressed his belief that the remaining citizens of the country that was responsible for killing millions of people around the world were innocent in the matter, and that the actions of their former ruler did not reflect the beliefs and character of said population altogether. Opponents of this belief were not shy about…"

Well, at least the world could look forward to some positive things coming out of all of this tragedy. Wakanda was officially entering the global community as a powerful player, utilizing their supply of vibranium and the incredible wealth that came with it to help rebuild and strengthen the world's infrastructure.

There were also strong movements that were gaining legitimate traction to start educating the people about tolerance and even outright friendship for mutants. Considering how many members of the resistance had been revealed to be mutants, risking their lives on behalf of a society that mostly hated and feared them, many people around the world were beginning to rethink their stance on them, and begin seeing them as the real people they were. At least there was some kind of positive outcome from the whole ordeal. If only there had been a more positive outcome closer to home.

Rhodey stared at his watch again and sighed. Pepper was taking way too long to come back from caring for James, and he had an idea of why this was the case. The young boy was everything but disobedient, especially of his mother's direct orders, which meant that there was only one possible reason why the redhead would still be away from the living room: she was avoiding him.

And there was only one reason she would avoid Rhodey: she was in pain.

Son of a bitch.

Rhodey stood up from the couch and walked straight to the boy's room, just to be sure that Pepper was no longer holding vigil there. As soon as he confirmed that James was once again calm and sound asleep, Rhodey picked up the pace and practically jogged towards the master bedroom of the residence he had called home for months, only to begrudgingly find said room was as empty as he had left it, minutes ago.

Luckily for him, he had by now memorized all of Pepper's hiding spots; even the secret ones she had commissioned to be added to the house post-purchase, and he headed towards the least obvious one first. The old home had been quickly bought when the ginger had found the location to be the perfect and already-established neighborhood she had wanted for her son to grow up in – as far away from the city as they could get. And when her next-door neighbor had turned out to be none other than Glenda Barnes, Pepper had ordered speedy renovations on the place to make it as close to a safe and comfortable haven as she could have it be so that they could move in sooner than anticipated.

No one had blamed her – or had tried to stop her – when she had announced that she was moving into the suburbs with her child. As someone who had lost every place she had once called home, it was no wonder that Pepper had jumped at the opportunity to start over; far away from the locations that brought painful memories, which only made it all worse for her and her son. Besides, everyone everywhere now knew who she was and what she had done. Staying in her home, as much as possible, and in the company of her little boy, was the only reprieve she had wanted, needed, and had been able to find.

Fortunately, this refuge had come with the unexpected yet enthusiastic company of her former Prohibited Section cellmate. There was no doubt that this had helped Pepper and her toddler get into an almost normal routine in ways Rhodey knew he would have never been able to help them achieve. He knew that there was only so much that he could do for the redhead – and so much that she would let him do for her – mostly because she felt guilty at knowing that he was putting his life on hold for her sake.

He had been extremely grateful at finding out that Glenda and Pepper got along very well. She had even gotten the chance to finally meet Glenda's husband; the young man who, like Tony had done for her during the stakeout, as well as twenty-five other young, desperate men whose betrotheds had been abducted, had been forced to commit crimes on behalf of the Maggia, all for the sake of keeping his captive fiancée safe.

It had also helped that Glenda's daughter, little Patricia, despite being nearly two years older than James, had quickly and happily befriended the strange little boy that was too smart and attentive for his age, and James was delighted anytime "Patty" came around to play.

Pepper and Glenda never spoke in detail about what had happened during their time of captivity, but both were well aware of the circumstances under which little Patricia had been conceived. Although Glenda had been cleared for Level 3 for several of the Maggia's long-term members, Pepper suspected that Jules, the Maggia's most supreme asshole – and most dedicated rapist – was the true father of Glenda's daughter. Glenda, for her part, had never bothered to have a paternity test done to confirm this. In the end, she preferred to simply let be what was, and did not want to know the truth – a decision her husband not only respected, but fully embraced, considering the hardships he had dealt with himself, being forced to work alongside the very men who had violated the love of his life. Knowing what she knew now about her own origins, Pepper felt that she understood Glenda's decision better than most people would.

Both women had suffered under the hands of the Maggia. Both had young children filled with too much energy. And even if their initial meeting had been under less-than-pleasant circumstances, it appeared as if the blonde and the redhead were more than willing and able to forget the horrible events that had originally allowed them to befriend each other, and to move forward with a real friendship now.

Except that Pepper, regardless of how much she wanted to forget it all and continue her life as if nothing horrendous had ever happened to her and her family, appeared to be destined to never being able to move on.

xxxXXXxxx

Tony had spent a week in intensive care, mostly because he was yet to open his eyes. His once-labored breathing had returned to normal. His Extremis was completely stable and available for him to use. All the tests he had undergone while asleep had provided no indication of why he was yet to wake up, other than his body not being ready to do so thus far. It was eerily similar to what had happened to him after the train derailment/plane crash that had occurred during a blizzard years ago, or when Pepper had been in a coma, after being recovered from the submarine. And it was as nerve-racking for everyone as it had been when he and the redhead had been down for the count on those occasions.

Yet today, after much waiting and praying, Tony's brainwaves were finally stable. It had taken a lot of digging up and researching, but between Pepper, Dr. Ross, Dr. Betty Ross, Dr. Bruce Banner and Dr. McCoy, they had been able to use tests ran on Pepper's brainwaves when she had been in a coma after the South Pole incident to reconstruct and somewhat predict when Tony would begin showing signs of waking up. Nearly two weeks had passed since taking down Doom, and had it not been for Pepper and for Howard moving mountains and parting oceans to get the resources they needed to help Tony recover, who knows what Tony's status would be now.

Not a promising one. Of that, Pepper was sure.

A few minutes ago, Dr. Ross had removed the IV line that had been dripping into Tony a muscle relaxant that had kept him asleep while they ran a last set of tests – all that was left to do now was waiting for Tony to finally open his eyes. According to the limited knowledge they had of the Extremis virus, Tony had undergone a similar resetting that both Pepper and James had gone through themselves; one that left them appearing as if they were dead when, in reality, their bodies had just been doing what they did best: evolve to survive.

Maya Hansen's modification of the Vortex virus Tony had once created to stop Andros Stark had served as the base for the serum she had given Pepper to use in case Tony was overpowered by Doom. The drawback of its usage, however, was that the serum had been designed to counter Doom's control over Tony's Extremis – and that had not been the true reason for Tony's brutal actions against everyone in the final stages of the fight. Since the serum had not found the target it had been designed to search and destroy, it had taken on the next best bullseye: Tony himself.

This was why Tony had not woken up after ten seconds of being injected with the serum, just like Maya had informed the redhead that he would when she gave her the inoculation to use. This was why Tony had gone into deep stasis, to reboot his body after being infected by the modified Vortex virus. And since, as opposed to Pepper and James, Tony's Extremis made him more like a computer than a simple human being, the side-effects of Maya's desperate attempt at keeping Tony alive long enough by sedating him while they took down Doom, had yielded unexpected results.

Unexpected results they hoped would end today.

"Pepper, are you sure you want to be here for this?"

"Yes," Pepper told Rhodey with determination, her son in her arms. "We've waited long enough, Rhodey. As soon as he wakes up, I want him out of here. It's time to bring Tony home with us."

Although, being honest with herself, she was not sure where home would be for them from now on. Stark International, Stark Solutions, the Makluan Temple, and even the former Rhodes' home were all gone. The secluded Stark Mansion was still standing, but that was where Howard, Trish, Virgil and Diane were living; a skeleton crew of Stark International employees residing with them while they oversaw the reconstruction of New York City.

They could not even live temporarily in the Makluan Temple, which had always been a back-up plan that Tony and Pepper had discussed in the event that they should ever need a place to hide or if their home should be damaged and they wanted to remain close to the center of operations for Team Iron Man. But now, thanks to Doctor Doom, the temple and the armory it had hidden within were gone forever. It had occurred to Pepper that, perhaps, this was the reason why Andros Stark had not sought out the armory when he had arrived from the future to kill Tony – he had not known about the Makluan Temple because in the time from which he came, it had no longer existed.

Still, Rhodey's former home had been the easiest one for Pepper to focus rebuilding efforts on. A week ago, she had authorized the reconstruction of the house to take place. It would take the crew up to a month to complete, despite how much money and resources she was sending their way. But the wait would be worth it, she knew, if she could make sure her son and her husband had a nice place to recover from the aftermath of being part of Doom's war.

At this point, this was all she truly looked forward to doing: taking her boys home with her, showering them with love and affection, tending to them, and working together as a family, in order to move on with their lives, making them as normal as they could afford them to be.

Everything and everyone else could wait.

Her genius boy and her innocent child could not.

She readjusted James's position in her arms so that she could hold on to the comforting hand Rhodey had just offered her when it became evident that Tony was stirring awake. The genius' fingers twitched somewhat. His eyelids wrinkled. He took in a deep breath. And before she could call herself ready to face the music, Tony Stark finally abandoned the land of the nearly-dead and returned to the land of the fully-living.

He opened his eyes slowly, kept his gaze on the ceiling, and then uttered a single word.

"Ugh."

The inventor sat up in the bed, pressed his hand against his chest, then on his forehead, and when he finally looked up and towards the people standing to his right, his brow crinkled even more.

"What happened? Where am I?"

A collective sigh of relief filled the room and, surprisingly enough, Tony did not flinch away when Dr. Ross walked over to him, began shining a light in his eyes, and started questioning the young billionaire.

"You were in a... an accident. Do you know who you are?"

"Yes. I'm… my name is: Tony. Tony Stark."

"Good. Good. Do you know who that is?" Dr. Ross pointed towards Howard, who was now standing to the doctor's right, and Tony snickered.

"Yeah, that's my dad: Howard Stark."

A small, nervous laughter escaped everyone in the room.

"Are you in pain, Tony? Does it hurt anywhere?"

"My head," he replied and rubbed his temples. "I feel kinda out of it, you know? Just… it feels like it's foggy or something."

"That's just the sedatives wearing off," Dr. Ross assured him. "Don't move too quickly, or it'll make you dizzy."

"OK, Dr. Ross."

The doctor smiled widely. His eyes then landed on Pepper and Rhodey, both of whom were yet to be seen by the slowly-recovering genius. Dr. Ross allowed Tony a moment for him to blink and lightly shake his head to regain some of his balance and faculties, and once Tony looked up again and to his left, he grinned.

"Rhodey! You're here, too? It must have been one hell of an accident for you to show up!"

"You can say that," Rhodey said, unaware of how much Tony remembered of his near-death experience. He did not want to overwhelm him with the details just yet.

"Oh, hey, there," Tony locked eyes with the ginger and then on her and Rhodey's laced hands. "You're new. Are you Rhodey's girlfriend?"

Just like that, the entire room became dead silent and as cold as ice.

xxxXXXxxx

His fingers traced an image of the smiling redhead, sitting next to him on what appeared to be a balcony floor, the sunset behind them both. He had seen this picture several times, as he had also seen many others of them together, but it was as if he was seeing someone else's life. The happiness that flowed from their faces, the ring on his left finger that he had finally decided to wear again, the digital children's storybooks that he had learned from his schematic logs he had written and designed himself… the little boy with the electric blue eyes. All were evidence of a nearly-perfect life he had no recollection of. A life he had wanted nothing to do with at first – a life he had not known he had lost; and that he had not known he would ever so desperately want returned to him.

xxxXXXxxx

"Girlfriend?" Pepper asked, her eyes wide, her mind in utter disbelief. "I… I'm not Rhodey's girlfriend, Tony."

"You're not?" Tony narrowed his eyes, stared at their joined hands for a second time, and then realized there was a child being held in the ginger's other arm. "Hi there, Little Guy. He's a cute kid. Is he your little brother?"

"No… uh… I… how… but he…" the redhead stammered.

"Oh, I see. He's yours. Sorry," he looked to his best friend again. "So are you going to introduce me to your new friend, Rhodey? Wait, your hair looks different than it did earlier, and… are you taller?"

This caused Rhodey to frown in confusion and dawning worry, and before Pepper found her full voice and before enough mind-to-mouth coordination came to her to ask the same questions that were already in everyone's mind, Dr. Ross rushed towards the inventor, shone a light in his eyes again, and then spoke once more.

"Tony, you don't know who she is?"

"No," Tony shook his head. "Should I?"

"Tony," Dr. Ross' voice became stern. "Are you sure you don't remember who she is? But you remember me?"

"Am I supposed to know you, too?" Tony said, prompting everyone to be taken aback.

"You said my name before I even introduced myself," Dr. Ross offered with a confused look himself.

"Yeah," Tony pointed towards the doctor's chest. "I read it off your nametag."

xxxXXXxxx

He had begun by having only one scrapbook in his hand. Yet, soon enough, he had surrounded himself with anything he thought could bring the memories back. He had walked around his home, opened all possible storage places, and had pulled out everything that belonged to them – to her. To the redheaded woman that had lived with him for a month before she had left. To the small child that had called him "Daddy," until the night before he and his mother had moved out.

"Pepper," her name had begun to naturally roll off his tongue, weeks ago. "Pepper… Pepper Potts. Pepper Potts-Stark."

Stark, he paused for an instant when their wedding album stood out from the rest.

Stark, Pepper Potts-Stark. I gave her my name. I made her my wife.

Why, oh, why could he not recall any of that?

He had seen all the pictures, watched the videos, and read the logs… that is, those that had survived the world-wide disaster that he also did not remember. He had spoken to her, had tried to get to know her… he had even lied to her about his memories returning! It had almost worked. But in the end, he had only hurt her more. He had seen it in her eyes that she was searching for someone who was not there anymore. She had been waiting for a man that he no longer was; a man that, apparently, he did not want to be again.

If I loved her… if I loved her so much… why can't I remember her? Why can't I be who I was then?

Why could he not open his heart to her? Why did his mind and heart both refuse to make it easy for her to be with him?

Sadly, he knew why. The doctors had told him why. His psychic/telepath friends had told him why. Rhodey had told him why.

And even more sadly, they had told her too.

"Tony?" Whitney's sudden voice startled him. "What the hell is going on in here?"

xxxXXXxxx

Tony's logical response to the doctor's name inquiry caught everyone by surprise, and it caused the room to become silent once more. The inventor's eyes traveled from the doctor to his father, then to Rhodey, and finally to the redhead and the boy. He then stared at his lap, trying to put together what he was now starting to realize he had missed. Unfortunately, nothing stood out to him.

"Tony," Howard's calm voice was exactly what the confused genius needed right now, "What is the last thing you remember?"

"Uhm," Tony rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger. "The temple. That… that old temple where you found that weird ring inside. And the Earth Movers. I… The demonstration. Did something go wrong with the Earth Movers demo? Is that why I'm in a hospital?"

Howard swallowed hard, gave Rhodey a knowing look the man instantly returned, and then asked the only question the old inventor needed answered to confirm that his dreaded suspicions were correct.

"Anthony: how old are you?"

"How long have I been here?"

"Two weeks."

"Two weeks?!" Tony's eyes widened. "Wow! Well, I guess that makes me fifteen."

xxxXXXxxx

"Nothing," Tony immediately replied, began cleaning up the mess of pictures and mementos he had made on the floor, and even briefly regretted giving his old friend a key to his home.

"What do you mean: nothing? Tony, you're looking at your records again!"

"They're not just records, alright?" Tony felt his anger rise. "These… my life… they're all I have, OK?"

"Tony," Whitney tiredly dropped her purse on the coffee table in the living room of the Rhodes' former and now rebuilt home. "We talked about this. You said you were going to let it go. You know it's best for everyone."

"I know what I said, Whitney," Tony avoided her gaze. "There's nothing wrong with reminding myself why I decided to ignore the fact that I forced myself to forget a good chunk of my life."

Whitney scoffed, shook her head, and sat on the couch.

"Is that really what this is, Tony? A reminder that you did the right thing? I've known you for years. You aren't going to fool me."

"You're starting to sound a lot like Rhodey," the young man's tone was spiteful. "Next thing I know, you are gonna turn your back on me, too. Just like that backstabbing son of a bitch did."

"He just did what he thought was the right thing to do, Tony. I, for one, agree with what he did. What would you have done in his place?"

Tony opened his mouth to retort, but he quickly snapped it shut again. He truly had no good answer to provide; he knew that the blonde was correct. Rhodey had chosen to put distance between himself and his childhood friend, for the sake of helping the family the inventor had once had, and that he had left to fend for itself.

Tony hated to admit it, but Rhodey had proven to be twice the man he was.

Then again, what had everyone expected him to do at finding out he had forgotten six years of his life? How could anyone be expected to suddenly and calmly accept that, not only had your teenage years passed you by, but that you were responsible for a woman, and had fathered a child?

Why did everyone fail to see how that sounded to someone who was still, from his perspective, a fifteen-soon-to-be-sixteen-year-old?

How had anyone expected him not to freak out?

Truth was that, they had.

xxxXXXxxx

When the ginger's hand covered her mouth to barely choke back a sob, Tony's back stiffened, and his breathing became partially labored again.

"What-what's going on? Am I… am I wrong?"

"Tony," Rhodey walked towards his friend, "There's something you need to know."

"What?" his electric blue eyes stared back and forth between Rhodey and Howard. "What's wrong with me? Am I sick?"

"You, uhm… I…" Rhodey looked to Howard, unsure of how to proceed.

"Son," Howard chirped in, "You… you seem to have forgotten a few things."

"Forgotten? Like, amnesia, you mean?"

"Yes," Howard began. "You… you're not fifteen, anymore."

"What? I-I'm not? But, I… I…"

Tony stared at himself, noticed that his legs did in fact look longer, and that his arms were much more muscular than they had been the last time he had seen them. Even his hands appeared to be more rugged, and when he used them to feel his stubbly face, Tony closed his eyes and began hyperventilating.

"Son?"

Tony's only response was to shake his fists in anger.

"Tony, man, calm down," Rhodey tried to place a hand on his shoulder, but Tony slapped it away.

"How old?" Tony asked.

"Well, Son, you…"

"Dad!" Tony stood up from the bed and glared at his father. "How. Old?"

"Twenty-two," Pepper said, her voice finally returning to her. "You're twenty-two, Tony."

xxxXXXxxx

Tony dumped his body on the couch, next to Whitney's sitting form, and he sighed loudly and dejectedly. He already knew how this argument was going to go: it always went the same way – it had followed the same pattern for three months. He would tell Whitney that he wanted to try to remember again. Whitney would ask him if he was sure. He would say that he was. She would then make some phone calls to S.H.I.E.L.D. and other people to arrange yet another session of attempting to restore the genius' lost memories. He would be thoroughly tested on, injected with a myriad of possible curing serums and, in the end, nothing ever returned to him. It never did. It never, ever did. The new failure would only further break his spirits and hope, and the redhead's heart.

He no longer wanted to upset the ginger – Pepper. He wanted to stop hurting her and the little boy – his son. That was why he had stopped pursuing them, months ago, shortly after they had moved out of this house – that and the fact that Rhodey had gotten in his way the last time he had tried speaking to Pepper, threatening to physically impair him, if he did not listen to the redhead's wishes and tried to again contact the family he had abandoned.

At this point, and after all possible attempts at restoring his memory had failed by doctors, Jean Grey and even Professor Charles Xavier, Tony was convinced that his memories would never come back. He was not completely human. He was a computer-human hybrid – one that had been able to physically delete the backup copy of his entire life from the last two months of his fifteenth year and onward. As he had understood it from the doctors that had treated him, during his last seconds of his old self, he had made himself forget what he had once loved. He had done so, with frightening accuracy and precision, to ensure that he was never again the cause of Pepper's near-demise.

He had made himself forget about her, so that she had the chance to live a long and happy life.

Without him.

"Why are you here, Whitney?" Tony's eyes landed on the news report once more when he realized he did not have the energy to dance to the I want to remember tune.

"Because I live here," she reminded him in an attempt to lighten up the mood. When his head shifted from the television to sternly staring at her face, a lack of amusement shining from his eyes, the blonde knew that Tony was not in the disposition to jest.

"Because you need me. Just like Pepper needs Rhodey to get through this, you need me."

Tony rubbed his face with his hands, hunched his back, and rested his weight on his knees.

"Who I need, is her."

Whitney narrowed her eyes at hearing his words. Her eyes then landed on her purse, where her mask was kept, and which she would soon have to use against Tony, once more.

For the final round, she hoped, this time.

xxxXXXxxx

"No," Tony shook his head. "This is a joke. A sick joke!"

"No, it's not," Pepper replied, put her son in one of the chairs in the room, and began slowly walking towards her husband, reading his spiking aura as she did so. "It's true, Tony. You're twenty-two. Things have changed. Time has gone by. And you've grown. You've grown to become a hero, and a great man."

Tony's head snapped towards Pepper and, for a moment, their eyes locked in silence. Everyone held their breath as Pepper closed the distance between them, surreptitiously manipulated and absorbed his feelings of confusion and anger, and managed to partly calm him down for an instant.

"Who," he gulped, "Who are you?"

She gently grabbed his left hand with her own, rubbed with her finger the ring he had not realized he was wearing, and his eyes widened when he saw the matching set on her left hand.

"I… I'm your wife, Tony. I'm Pepper Potts-Stark."

xxxXXXxxx

He felt the blonde's left hand rest on his knee immediately before her right hand pulled his face towards hers. She gave him a small smile, kissed his forehead briefly and tenderly, and then pulled back.

"It's over with her, Tony. You know that she doesn't want to see you anymore."

"But… But Howie," hearing Tony use the nickname he had given his son made the blonde raise a single eyebrow.

"But what, Tony? What about Howie?"

"My son. He… he can't… he shouldn't grow up without a father. His real father. I… Maybe Pepper doesn't want to see me anymore. Maybe she's moved on and doesn't… need me anymore. Maybe she and Rhodey are happy together. But I have a right to see my son. He… he's my son, too. And if I want to see him… if I want to spend time with him…"

"But you did spend time with him, with both of them. And what happened, Tony? What happened when you three tried living together?"

"I…" Tony groaned. "I screwed it up."

xxxXXXxxx

His blue eyes watched her up and down before they then focused on the little boy, sitting in the back. Tony swallowed hard, realized the toddler had his eyes, put two and two together, shook his head from side to side in denial, and then took a step back and away from Pepper.

"No," he momentarily closed his eyes. "That… is that… I… did we…?"

Pepper nodded to him, pressed her hand against his chest when anger yet again overpowered him, but this time, her efforts were for naught.

"NO!" he practically jumped away from her. "DON'T TOUCH ME! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"Tony," Pepper kept her distance, but did not relent in her efforts to make things better and clearer for him. "Tony, listen to me. It's alright. It's going to be alright. Just… just breathe, OK? Just breathe."

"No! It's NOT going to be alright! I need to get out of here! This is a dream! No – a nightmare! This is not real!"

"Son, calm down now."

"You!" Tony pointed towards his father. "Who are you, and what have you done with my father? And you," he then pointed at Rhodey, "Where is my friend?"

"T, sit down," Rhodey began walking towards Tony, but the inventor pushed him back.

"GET AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE! LET ME OUT!"

In a matter of seconds, everything spiraled out of control. The more his family tried to comfort him, the angrier Tony became. He did not understand why he was being lied to – or why he was unable to wake up from this dream. But, most importantly, he wanted everyone to stop telling him what to do and let him run out the door and away from here.

"This is not working," Pepper said, suddenly realizing how close Tony was to having a nervous breakdown. "We need to sedate him, now. He-he's about to–"

The redhead's words were interrupted by the loud sound of all of the electronic devices near them exploding in the blink of an eye. Tony's wild eyes looked around himself, realized he was starting to somehow interact with the computers around him, and he then groaned at how much the task hurt his brain.

"WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME? AAAAAHHH!"

He fell to his knees, clenched his eyes shut, and desperately dug his fingernails against the sides of his face, easily drawing blood from his skin.

"Sedate him!" Pepper screamed while she stood in front of her son, attempting to shield the boy from seeing his father act so aggressively and rampantly. "Dr. Ross, please SEDATE HIM!"

The good doctor took out a syringe from his pocket, but when he tried to inject Tony with it, the inventor stood up from the floor and took a step back.

"NO! NO! STOP! YOU'RE DRUGGING ME! AAAGGGGHHH! MY HEAD! MAKE IT STOP!"

"Hold him down!" Rhodey said as he and the others tried to keep him from hurting himself. The more they tried to restrain him, the stronger Tony became. He was not yet aware of the raw power he held inside thanks to Extremis, so what should have been just a light push and shove, turned into a storm of harmful kicks, smacks and punches.

And one of them, the final and strongest one he managed to release before he was sedated, backslapped Pepper to the ground.

xxxXXXxxx

"Pepper?" Rhodey knocked on the door. "Pepper, open up."

"In a minute," came the muffled response from inside the bathroom.

"Pepper, I know what you're doing there. Please open up."

To his surprise, the door to the guest bathroom immediately opened up, revealing a redhead that was failing miserably at pretending she had not been crying her eyes out. When Rhodey tilted his head at her, silently asking her what had gotten her so upset now, she simply shrugged, walked out of the bathroom, went around her friend, and then headed to the living room once more, Rhodey following behind.

The news was still playing in the background. The scenes of the aftermath in the world were being presented with a sad-sounding song in the back, as if the entire situation was not morbid and saddening enough on its own.

When the song ended, and the last scene showed the names of her dead friends, the redhead angrily turned off the television, stood up, headed to the master bedroom, and climbed into bed.

xxxXXXxxx

Two weeks.

Two full weeks had gone by since Tony had woken up.

The clock kept ticking. The options and attempts that had not been halted by Tony were running out. Yet, she was no closer to having her husband back.

And now, at the end of the day today, the three of them: she, Tony and James, would leave the medical facility they were in, and they would move into the finally rebuilt former Rhodes' home. It had been the place she had initially been dying to call home again, but that now, given the circumstances, she could only call: a house to live in.

It had taken Rhodey, Howard and Roberta constantly talking to Tony for the genius to finally accept moving in with Pepper and the little boy, once the home was reconstructed. He had so far refused to be treated for what everyone told him was wrong with him – he did not believe being forced to remember his life was fair to him, at all. He had adamantly declined to accept that so much of his life had passed him by. And he was even more adamantly opposed to just jumping back into what everyone told him was normal for him: tending to his son and his wife.

He did not even wear his wedding ring anymore. He had handed it to her, three days after he had woken up, but not without making sure she understood that, as far as he was concerned, the man she knew was nowhere to be found.

"This is who I am now," he had told her a few days ago, when he had told her he would move in with her, despite his reservations. "And I get it that we were something before, you and me. But I have no interest in getting that back. I mean, you're nice. And you're pretty. But I don't see myself feeling anything for you, at all. Friendship, perhaps. But definitely not love."

Definitely not love, she thought yet again, wondering if this was in fact the best decision for her and her son.

There was so much more at stake now than there had been just a few weeks ago; more than she had wanted it to be and to accept. There was a small possibility that everyone was wrong about Tony's diagnosis; that they could be mistaken in their conclusion that Tony had done this to himself. The possibility was very slight – but it was still there. There was still a chance that Tony had not wanted, so badly, to forget about her and their son, to permanently butcher his memories of them.

Oh, the irony of it all! That the redhead got to feel, first-hand, the torture and pain her genius boy had once felt due to her amnesia, years ago. And, even worse than ironic, was the fact that the only person who could have helped Tony recall what he had lost, had died trying to defend them both.

xxxXXXxxx

Tony stood up from the couch, walked towards the kitchen counter, and stared at the scrapbooks again. There were plenty of them – some of him alone, mostly showing him working on inventions of his, including newspaper clips and printed online articles of his success as an entrepreneur and as a hero. One was of Pepper alone – this particular one filled with mostly reconstructed pictures of her childhood, birth and adoption records, and memorable moments to her in high school and in college. There were a couple of their son, in which he had found a picture of himself, reclining back in a chair, his baby son on his chest, both of them appearing to be asleep. There was one of him and Pepper only – the particular scrapbook he had been looking through the most often as a means to force himself to remember what they had once been together. There were two of the entire family – and one of Pepper's pregnancy journey.

That last one had made his guilt quadruple and his remorse increase tenfold. Seeing in that scrapbook the clear indication of how involved he had been in the redhead's pregnancy – how serious he had taken the role of the caregiver to the pregnant woman, had been a sure way for him to feel like the lowest scum of the Earth whenever he remembered the harsh words he had once said to her: when he had told her, shortly before they had left the hospital he had woken up in, that he did not see himself falling in love with her – that the man she had once loved was gone.

So many joyful moments together. So much evidence of a life he had happily lived and had sadly left behind. So much material he could use to recall his memories. But nothing ever helped him bring them back.

xxxXXXxxx

Two weeks into living with the redhead and the toddler, Tony found himself even more confused than before. He had been certain – almost with no margin of error – that he would soon become tired of sharing a place with two total strangers who had the ulterior motive of forcing him to remember what he had wanted to forget. He had anticipated all types of issues due to their nearby presence, all kinds of arguments with the other adult in the home, and all forms of misery for all of them. But he was yet to experience any of that.

At all.

In fact, and for the most part, little James and Pepper Potts, had left him alone thus far. Surprisingly, he was beginning to feel left out.

"Patricia?" Tony called out to the woman from the back door of the house. She and the child had been spending time outside today, given how beautiful the day was, but he had sad news to bring their playtime to an end.

"Patricia!" the inventor walked closer to where she and James sat on the grass. "Hey! Sorry to bother you, but you're gonna have to come inside."

The redhead furrowed her brow, opened her mouth to speak, but James beat her to the punch.

"Daddy play?"

"Uhm, uh… I…"

"Daddy wanna play?" James repeated, his arm extended towards him, a ball in his hand. "Daddy play ball?"

"Jimmy," Pepper grabbed the ball from the child. "I've told you not to bother people like that. If they wanted to play with you, they'd just play. Remember?"

"But, Mama…"

"No," Pepper stood up from the ground, placed her hands on her hips, and then sternly eyed her son. "I won't remind you again, Jimmy. We just don't bother Da—Tony, like that."

The genius caught her slip-up, scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, cleared his throat, and then remembered what he had come here to relay to them.

"Anyway, I just got a weather alert that a storm is coming. It seems it's gonna be a bad one. I… I just didn't want you two to get caught in it. You… you could get sick."

"Oh!" Pepper looked towards the sky, and was quick to see that there were in fact some dark-looking clouds heading their way. "Oh, well. Thanks, Tony. Yeah-uhm. Thanks."

"Sure," he said, but had nothing else to add.

The redhead opted to end the discomfort she could see pouring out of him by picking up her son, turning around in place, and heading back inside the house. Tony then stared back and forth between the back door and the ball that had been abandoned on the grass. After a minute or so of deliberation, he picked up the toy, ran back into the house with it in his hand, and looked for the redhead once more.

"Patricia?" he found her in the kitchen, searching for items to prepare dinner for all three of them, just as she had been doing every time since move-in day. It was definitely one of the best perks of having a responsible adult in the house – one that knew how to cook and did so at least three times a day: he never starved. Sure, had he been living alone, he could have easily ordered a pizza or paid someone to cook for him, but he did not feel that he had the need to do so. The ginger's skills in the kitchen were remarkable, most especially when she felt like making pancakes from scratch. And, as he had been beginning to realize, she knew his eating habits like the back of her hand.

"Yeah?" she did not even bother to face him. She could already tell by his anxiety-filled aura that, whatever he was about to say to her, she was not going to like. Lately, he had been acting even more strangely than usual around her. Almost as if he was constantly choosing between a fight or flight response, and she was starting to suspect that he was simply preparing to tell her that he had had enough of this farce. That he had determined that this unusual living arrangement was not working for him, and that she and the little boy had to move out.

"I, well…" he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. " I want to talk to you."

Pepper felt her stomach sink to her feet, but she kept her focus on her task.

"About what?"

"About… about us."

She hesitated for a second, felt grateful that her back was still to him, bit her thumbnail, and then cleared her throat.

"What about us?"

"Well, it's more about me. But it kinda involves you, too. So-so I guess it is, technically about us. Somewhat. Maybe. I… I'm not quite sure yet."

"OK," her tone was neutral, and she made sure that her posture persisted in being one that showed that she was relaxed – even if she was not. She only did so because she had learned, a long time ago, that letting Tony ramble on helped him to be honest with himself and with everyone around him while trying to make a point. As smart as he was, and as large as his vocabulary was, when it came down to speaking the truth to people, he was the worst stuttering genius in the world.

"I- I've been thinking that, well. That I… that maybe. Maybe I do want to give it try."

"Give what a try?" she took out a pot and a pan.

"Remembering," he spat out before he lost his nerve. "Remembering you, our son… us… My old life. I want to give remembering all of it, a try."

Pepper left the pot and pan sit to on the counter, slowly turned around to face Tony, and then exhaled slowly and nervously. From all the things she had expected him to say to her right now, this had not even made the list.

"W-Why? I mean," she chuckled. "You-you said… you said that you didn't want to… and that–"

"I-I know," he was struggling to convert his thoughts into words, even more than before. He was shaking in anticipation, afraid of her likely response, unsure of his own actions, but he still found enough courage in him to walk towards where she stood to look her in the eye.

"But, I didn't know you then. I was confused. I was angry. I felt lost. Cheated. And you… I… I've gotten to know you better now. And you… you're a wonderful person. You… you're so smart, and caring, and… And James… he's… he's so… so…"

"Fond of you?" she offered in a whisper and he nodded. He had not wanted to accept it right away, but that kid was definitively his: he was smarter than his age should have naturally allowed him to be. He was still a child, in the sense that he was still naïve, innocent, and playful. But sometimes, Tony would see it in him that he was taking in his surroundings, picking up silent clues, processing them with caution and high interest, and he would then sometimes put together words and sentences that had surprised even the genius himself.

On more than one occasion, the little boy had sat quietly on Tony's work table, following the scientist's every move while he had tinkered with gadgets, old or new. And, in one particular instance, the little guy had helped him determine the root cause of a major malfunction his latest invention had been plagued with.

All without uttering a word.

That child and this woman were like no one he had ever met before. They were both special. Unique. They were not what would be considered normal people – just like him.

"I just think that, that-that the least I could do for you at this point is try. I… I want to give it a shot. I think… I think it's worth trying it out, at least once."

"But, Tony…"

"Please," he held her hands in his before he even knew what he was doing. "Just this once. I… I know I don't need your help for this. I know I can call up S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever, and have it done without you even knowing about it. But I think you should know. I think you should be there. Just in case, you know? You deserve to be there."

Pepper gulped, realized that their son was watching them attentively from the door to his room, his aura beaming in hope and happiness, his smile wider than she had seen on him for a while, so she reluctantly nodded to the man before her.

"Alright," she pulled her hands away from his. "If you really want to do it. If this is really what you want to do, then go for it. And I'll be there, if you really want me to be."

"Thank you, Patricia," Tony said with a smile. "This…" he chuckled and shrugged. "It's hard for you, I know that. But I'm just as scared as you are. Maybe even more."

"Well," the redhead shrugged, "It… it can't be any worse for you than it is right now, right?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

But they had both turned out to be wrong.

It later turned out that it could get worse than he had had it at that point; as all the physical and mental pain he endured to go through probable treatments, was all for nothing. Seeing her disappointed face when he had confessed to her that the treatment had not worked, to his surprise, broke not only her heart, but his as well.

xxxXXXxxx

Rhodey sat on the bed, his back flush against the headboard. In his hands, he held a S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued electronic tablet he was using to fill out debriefing forms and questionnaires that were mandatory to be completed shortly after missions had come to an end. Typically, S.H.I.E.L.D. preferred that its agents performed these evaluations in person and before they left the base. Yet, in Rhodey's situation, the new Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Maria Hill, understood that the War Machine alter ego had other responsibilities on his plate that prevented him from being away from home for too long.

Pepper laid on the same bed, on her right side, giving her back to him, pretending to be asleep. She knew that, as long as Rhodey suspected she was still awake, he would not go back to his room to rest for the night. It was always the same routine, every night since he had moved in with her and little James – or at least during the nights he was not out on duty until the next day. At first, Pepper had scoffed at the idea of having a sleep bodyguard. But once she began to realize that she was in fact harming her child with her midnight thrashing and screams, it became evident to her that she did need Rhodey around to keep her depression in check.

This was one of the main reasons why Rhodey had moved in with them: to keep an eye on them; to watch over Pepper, given her condition; and to keep Tony Stark at bay. The genius had been led to believe, even did so today, that Rhodey was more than just Pepper's friend, even when the actual arrangement could not be further from the truth. It had all come to that, unexpectedly so and without any need to plan for it, when Tony had showed up at their doorstep a few months ago.

The memory was still fresh in Pepper's mind. A month had gone by since Pepper and her son had moved out from the old Rhodes' home, shortly after realizing, with dismayed finality, that the man she had married had truly left this world. After visiting a few times, Rhodey had spoken to Pepper about his observations on her behavior and the effect it had on her son. Reluctantly, Pepper agreed to have Rhodey move in while she and his nephew settled. The day Rhodey had moved in, Tony had showed up as well.

It had been everything but comfortable, that impromptu meeting Tony had orchestrated. He had tried talking directly to her, but Rhodey had stood in his way; essentially preventing the distance between the ginger and the blue-eyed genius to not be any less than ten feet. He had asked – yelled to her from his position outside her new home – to consider moving back in with him, for both of their sakes. He had told her that it was strange not having them around, and that he could really use their company – even the child's. He had admitted that he was lonely and confused, and that she and little James were good roommates he had begun to miss.

Needless to say, while his intentions had been partially honorable, his choice of words had been a stab to the redhead's heart.

Before Tony had known what had hit him, Rhodey had knocked him on the ground with a strong fist to the face. The angry words had turned into a screaming match, then to a scuffle; and, finally, to the ultimate fight between the two childhood friends. Rhodey had been tired of seeing Pepper suffer; of watching Tony act as selfish and clueless as he had been before the plane crash that had changed his life. The agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. had had it up to here with watching his two friends make the other miserable – consciously or unconsciously so – and took matters into his own hands.

"Pepper can't come back home with you, Tony," Rhodey had told his friend once he had been able to subdue him. "She and Jimmy are NOT coming back with you."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because Pepper's with me now," Rhodey had lied. "Because you lost your chance. We're together now."

Tony's eyes had immediately searched for Pepper, who had been standing by the front door the entire time, forcing herself to stay out of the fight until now. The genius' angry face told it all to her: he was silently demanding that she confirmed what he had just heard.

"Go home, Tony," she had told him. "Go home and don't ever come back. Don't ever come back looking for us. You're dead to me now."

Not wanting to breakdown crying again, Pepper jumped from the bed, ran out of the bedroom and towards the laundry room, and left Rhodey sighing loudly before he chased after her yet again.

xxxXXXxxx

Her fingers traced the names on the monument before her, tears running down her face as she did so. This was the first time she was here to honor and remember them in this fashion – although she mourned them almost every day. Unfortunately, knowing that things were about to change yet again for her, this was probably the first and last time she would be here in a very long time.

In total, there were millions of names written on monuments, and there were thousands of memorials around the world. Each city and/or country had erected their own, to their own specifications and cultural customs, to list the names of their fallen citizens. Yet, every single memorial in existence, regardless of where it was located or what language it was written in, shared the same four names atop the tall structures: Nick Fury: Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.; Dr. Maya Hansen: Scientist. Genetics Pioneer (her honorary doctorate degree had been granted by MIT, posthumous); Edwin Jarvis: Soldier. Warrior. Friend; and, Gene Khan: The One True Mandarin.

Pepper closed her eyes, rested her palm against the cold stone covered in tempered glass, and then spoke.

"Tony's name should be here."

Rhodey, who was standing behind her, guarding her visit to the memorial, was taken aback.

"What? Why, Pepper? How can you even say that! He's still alive!"

"No, he's not," she swallowed down some of her tears. "For my son. For me. His father's gone. My husband. My Tony. He died in Latveria that day. I killed him. I killed my son's father."

"Pepper…" Rhodey began in an attempt to comfort the redhead, but he instead looked at his feet when he realized that he had nothing to say to that.

"You know," Pepper continued after a sniffle, "When S.H.I.E.L.D. took Tony for killing Rhona, it was just me and James for a while. And during that time, I promised myself that I'd do anything for my son to know who his father was. I was determined to make sure all the shit Tony and I went through up to then was not for nothing. I told myself that I had a say in all of this, and that my baby was not going to grow up without a father. And, in the end, after everything was said and done, I still failed."

"Pepper," Rhodey placed a hand on her shoulder. "You… you haven't failed. Not yet. There's still time. There's still a chance we'll figure out how to get Tony his memories back. There just has to be a way!"

"THERE ISN'T ONE, RHODEY!" Pepper turned in place and sobbed. "That's the thing: there's no way! He doesn't WANT to remember! He doesn't want anything to do with me! With our son! With us! And if he… if he knew… if he found out that…"

Pepper shook her head, hugged herself, and then looked away.

"I can't wait any longer, Rhodey. He's not coming back. He's never coming back. I… we need to move out. Move on with our lives."

"But, Pepper, where are you going to go?"

Pepper snickered bitterly, wiped her tears from her face, and then scoffed.

"I'm still fucking rich. I'll just buy another house."

xxxXXXxxx

Whitney silently observed as Tony rested his weight against the kitchen counter, his eyes appearing to be fixed on the scrapbooks and picture albums, but she knew his mind was everywhere but in this room with her. She had learned to practically read his thoughts by the way his face contorted – and sometimes by the way he sighed. She could tell he was in pain. She could tell he was miserable. But there was nothing she could do for him. Not anymore. She wanted to help him – but it was all up to him now.

Just as she had once told Fury, it appeared more and more that the blonde was going to win the joke in the end. Yet, knowing what she knew now, and having now lived her life in a completely different manner than she had done so before the mask had overtaken her, Whitney Stane knew she owed Tony and Pepper a lot more than just what she had offered thus far.

Taking the alternative route was always easier than following the path of truth. Tony would never know the difference, anyway, she knew. But she could not bring herself to do just that; to take the easy road, even if opting to doing the right thing was always the most difficult and tiring track to pursue. Tonight was his last chance – her last chance – to finally complete her mission; a mission that Maya Hansen had designed for the blonde, months ago.

Tonight, finally tonight, Whitney Stane would take a shot at Tony Stark. And, with a little bit of luck, she would not fail again.

xxxXXXxxx

He had acted irrationally, he was aware of that, but he had done so with good intentions in his heart. Nevertheless, it had been one of those occasions where the thought did not really count. In his defense, he had been desperate and had felt there was nothing else he could have done to make things right. When he had accidentally heard the redhead say she was going to move out, he had felt something in his heart that he had not been able to explain. He had not intended to find her and Rhodey there, and he had not meant to hide from view when he had realized they were on opposite sides of the New York City Doom War Memorial. He had gone there to try to trigger his memories – she had gone there to say goodbye to her memory of him.

He had really thought that pretending to remember something would give her hope – at least temporarily – while he winged it and tried to figure out what to do next. He had not known that she could read people's feelings with her eyes – quite literally. He had not been aware that the virus she also carried – the one similar to his – gave her the ability to catch him in a lie.

Or perhaps, he had just not wanted it to be true.

His fib had lasted all of thirty seconds. That was how long it had taken not only her, but the little boy as well, to see through his charade. That was how he had realized that the boy – their son – had in fact inherited some of their unusual abilities. Up to then, he had rarely spent quality time with either of them, save for when it was time to eat, or when the little boy had silently joined him in his lab. When he had, and not counting a handful of occasions that he had come to see as normal, they had not appeared to have supernatural powers to him.

All the same, he had considered the three of them to be somewhat of a strange family. Yet, he sometimes could appreciate how it would have, at some point in the past, made sense to them.

"Why you cry, Mama?"

Tony heard the little boy ask his mother and Tony's heart sank. He had come to the kiddo's room, looking for Pepper to try to patch things up. Before he had reached the door, before he had been seen, he had chickened out, opting to remain standing outside the room, by the open door, his back against the wall.

"I cry because I'm sad, baby."

"You sad?"

"Yes."

"I sad, too."

"Why are you sad, Jimmy?"

"I sad… for Daddy."

Tony heard the sound of movement, perhaps of the woman readjusting her position on the tiny bed to better soothe her crying son. Silence befell them all for a minute, until James spoke again.

"Daddy gone. Right, Mama?"

"Yes," the breaking of her voice was painful to hear. "Daddy's gone."

"He come back?"

"No. He's never coming back."

"You and me, Mama," the boy recalled the phrase he had used before while in the middle of a war. "You and me, Mama."

"Yes, honey," Pepper kissed his forehead. "It's just you and me. Just you and me."

"I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too."

The next morning, Tony woke up to an empty home. The redhead and the toddler had quietly disappeared at some point in the middle of the night.

xxxXXXxxx

"So, what do you want to do, then, Tony?"

Tony rested his back against the edge of the kitchen counter, looked towards the ceiling, inhaled loudly through his mouth, and then exhaled through his nose.

"I'm not sure, Whitney. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I should do. But I do know that being alone… that moving on, it just doesn't seem right."

"But, you're not alone, Tony," Whitney walked over to him, pressed her body against his, and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss him fully on his lips.

A handful of these arguments had already ended like this: with the two of them heavily making out on the couch. They had never gone farther than that; their clothes had always stayed on, and he had never taken her to a room. In fact, he never even talked about it afterward. He was yet to change his demeanor around her. As far as she knew, he had just followed his hormones and not his heart.

Yet, this time, this very moment, Whitney had other plans. She knew time was running out, a deadline was approaching, an expiration date was about to be fulfilled. She knew that she had to push him to try to take to it the next level with them, or all her efforts would be in vain.

Nevertheless, it became quickly discernible to her, by the rigidness of his shoulders, that he was not going to make it easier for her to do her job.

"No," he pulled away from her advances, pushed her off him, and then looked away.

"I'm sorry. I… I just can't."

"Why not?" Whitney forced him to stare at her by holding his face in her hands. "I could be her, you know? I could pretend to be her."

To prove her point, her theory, and to test the waters, Whitney casually walked over to her purse, picked it up, took out her mask, dumped the purse back on the coffee table, and put on the mask. Tony knew what the blonde was about to do – he knew about the origin of the Madame Masque technology, the fact that she now went by the name of Chameleon, a spy agent for S.H.I.E.L.D., and that they had once been at odds with each other after dating for a short while in high school.

This was why it had been easy for him to just release some tension and pent-up frustration with her and think nothing of it. Because all he truly remembered of her were the good times they had had when growing up. He knew she did not care that he had just been using her lips and her body to forget. Or at least, he had not cared that much about these actions of his until now.

"See?"

Before his eyes, the blonde instantly shapeshifted into looking just like the redhead he had sorely missed. She had even changed her clothes, opting for wearing a revealing nightie that she had seen stored away in the room the ginger had used when living here. The little number had been one of the inventor's favorites during his forgotten life, she had found this out from Jean Grey, and the reaction that it incited from him at seeing her like this was more than pleasing for her.

"I can try to be her," the blonde's voice was exactly the same as the redhead's.

She walked over to him, slid her hands on his chest until they reached his neck, circled him entirely, and then brushed her lips against his. Tony leaned his head to the side, lowered his face enough to briefly kiss her, but then pulled back with a sad smile.

"But, you're not."

He slid away from her, gave his back to her with the intention to run off and hide away in his room, but the blonde did not let him get far away.

She grabbed his left wrist, turned him in place, and then all but shoved him against the wall.

"What if I told you that I love you?" she searched his eyes and ran the tips of her fingers up the right side of his stomach, under his shirt. "What if I say: I love you, Tony. What would you do then? What would you say then?"

Tony thought about her question for a second. He looked into her hazel eyes while his mind replayed the words, but he refused to take the bait. He knew she was trying to entice him – to tempt him into doing what he was not willing to do with her anymore, and probably go even further than that.

Silence was their only companion for a minute. When Tony sighed in frustration and began pushing her away again, Whitney grabbed his face, pulled it closer to hers until they were inches apart, and then, in her best Pepper Potts impersonation, whispered to him.

"What, Tony? What would you say if I said it? If I said: I love you. I love you, Tony."

"I…" his mouth moved again but it did not make a sound. He then shook his head, sighed deeply, and finally locked eyes with her.

"I… I would say: I love you," he paused for a moment to smile at the way saying the words made him feel. "I love you. Pepper: I love you."

Hearing this and seeing his response, Whitney smiled, returned to her normal self, and then stabbed him with a needle over his heart.