First of all thank you all for reading and commenting on the last chapter! I was happy to get so many positive reactions. Also, sorry for the wait, I was sick for over two weeks and couldn't do anything.

So here we go, Tony is in a very bad condition now and it's getting dramatic (again).

Chapter 15

"Tony! Wake up! Tony!"

Pepper stared in horror at Tony, who did not respond. Again and again, she shook him, but Tony did not regain consciousness. Standing next to Pepper, one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents was in the process of calling 911. Just moments ago, she had been lying on her hotel bed, still dressed and unable to get a wink of sleep. The scene with Tony had affected her more than she wanted to admit. Then suddenly there had been several frantic knocks on her door. She nearly had thought that a drunken Tony had finally come upstairs - to her door, maybe to apologize, maybe to yell at her again.

But it had been one of the agents. Pepper had been perplexed at first, because most of the time the agents didn't speak a word to them, they didn't even respond sometimes. And now one of them had been here, almost out of breath, at her door early that morning, obviously concerned. He had explained to her curtly that Tony had gotten completely drunk (How surprising…) and seemed to be totally out of control.

While they were hurrying to the elevator, she had snapped at him why he hadn't intervened himself. But the agent had only replied that his orders were to protect Stark from all outside dangers, not from himself. The deal between Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D. was not to interfere in his private things, but since he had a bad feeling, he wanted to ask Pepper to come downstairs immediately. Stark, he said, was so drunk he couldn't even walk properly and had just disappeared into one of the restrooms. He believed Stark was about to do something stupid.

And now he was lying here in front of her. He had thrown up all over himself and blood had run out of one nostril. It was not a pretty picture. Gradually, more guests came into the restroom and the general excitement grew. Along with a few others, she tried to get Tony awake, but he still showed no reaction.

When the paramedics finally arrived just minutes later, Pepper was already on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Tony was barely breathing, and he looked terrible. Now a female paramedic was leaning over Tony.

"What did he take?"

"I don't know…" Pepper stammered shakily. "He's been drinking."

"It's probably cocaine," the agent said very silent.

Pepper flinched and stared at him."Why do you say that?" Was this why the agent had so urgently wanted her to come down?

"Mmm," the paramedic made, checking Tony's pupillary response while the others routinely checked his blood pressure and pulse.

"Here," one of the guests at the sinks said, holding up a small bag containing white powder residue. "This was here at the sink, probably coke. And… here's still a line left."

Pepper winced again. Cocaine? Was this supposed to be a joke? Tony wouldn't touch drugs, would he? But then again - the way he was lying on the floor in front of her now – chalky-white, covered in blood and vomit, his face slightly contorted in pain even in unconsciousness…

"We need to take that, please," one of the paramedics said, reaching out for the bag, then turning to Pepper, adding, "They will examine it more closely at the hospital later."

"How bad is it?" Pepper asked.

"He probably overdosed," the paramedic said. "We're gonna take him to the nearest hospital now."

They put a breathing mask on Tony and lifted him onto a gurney.

"Would you like to come with us?" the paramedic asked, giving Pepper a quick look.

"Um. Yes. Yes, of course."

All hell has broken loose in the emergency admission. Apparently, there had been a bus accident somewhere. It was unpleasantly hectic and noisy. Doctors were rushing around, yelling instructions, and distraught relatives were crying and standing inconveniently in the way.

Pepper hurried after the gurney where Tony lay. They pushed him into one of the treatment rooms, where Pepper finally stopped, completely out of breath although they weren't running. She couldn't believe what was happening. Had Tony... had he really...? And then he had overdosed right away? She didn't know what to do with Tony anymore. He had been very impulsive and hot-tempered in the last months. And maybe desperate, too. But how desperate? Overdose-desperate?

Exhausted, Pepper settled into one of the chairs at the opposite wall and took a deep breath. She couldn't help but blame herself. How could she have left him alone? How could she have went to her room after their argument? She had seen that he was badly off. He had given her a demonstration of his disastrous emotional state. Still she had left.

"Excuse me?"

Pepper's head jerked upward. A nurse stood in front of her.

"I need to ask you a few questions. It may help us with Mr. Stark's treatment. Are you able to do that?," she added with a well-intentioned smile.

"Oh... yeah, sure."

"Good." The nurse picked up her clipboard. "You were at this event, too, right? Did you see how much Mr. Stark drank and how much cocaine he used?"

"No... I already left around midnight. I don't know..."

"Okay. Don't worry, we'll find out. A blood sample is already on its way to the lab. Umm... Does Mr. Stark use drugs regularly?"

"Sorry?"

The nurse looked at Pepper. "Not to your knowledge, at least." She noted something. "It may help us to know something about the patient's drug use patterns. Regular drug users have a higher tolerance, whereas patients who never or just occasionally use, overdose easier on even a small amount. That's why I'm asking."

"I see. Um... Tony - Mr. Stark doesn't do drugs. Alcohol, yes. But nothing else."

"All right, that helps a lot, Miss Potts."

Pepper waited tensely while the nurse took some notes.

"I know you said you already left around midnight, but do you think it's possible there were other drugs involved?"

"I'm sorry... I really don't know... Like I said, he doesn't do drugs. Well… normally."

"Ok. Well, we'll know more soon. In the meantime, we are trying to stabilize Mr. Stark's condition. One last thing, though. This brightly shining round..." she formed a circle over her chest with her finger.

"Oh, you mean the reactor. It's... some kind of electromagnet. Mr. Stark was injured in a missile attack and shrapnel is still lodged in his chest. The electromagnet keeps the shrapnel away from his heart. I guess you can ignore it."

"Uh, okay. Well, thanks." She looked a little confused for a moment, but then smiled encouragingly. "When we have news, you'll be informed."

She briefly put a hand on Pepper's shoulder, then went back to the treatment room.

Pepper slumped down. No, this couldn't be true. Tony might have done some crazy things in his life, but this? Why had he done this?

A new wave of fear washed over her. What if he died? He couldn't do that to her! But what if he did?! The fact that bloody bodies of the injured from the bus accident were constantly being pushed past her didn't help either.

Several suns were passing by. Faces were appearing - and disappearing. It was silent. Unbearably quiet. As if someone had completely turned off the sound. Everything around him was shining in sterile white and was blinding him. It hurt his eyes, so he preferred to keep them closed. Muffled murmuring around him, incomprehensible to his ears. His lungs were burning, and he could hardly breathe.

"Mr. Stark. Can you hear me?"

It was a masculine, firm, strong voice that Tony couldn't classify. He could barely make out what those words meant.

"Mr. Stark," the voice said louder.

Tony kept his eyes closed and didn't respond. All he could focus on was breathing. And that was so hard that he couldn't pay attention to anything else. Besides, he felt so sick he thought he was going to throw up again at any moment.

"I'll check if he reacts to a painful stimulus," the voice said, and the next moment Tony felt a sharp pain on his sternum, as if someone was rubbing it firmly with his fist. He didn't have the strength to move that much, but he groaned in pain and next to him he heard an increasingly rapid beeping sound.

"There he is. Easy, Mr. Stark, easy. You're in hospital. My name is Dr. Astin and I'll be your doctor today."

Tony groaned again and mustered all his strength to move. What the hell was going on!? Hospital?! A pair of hands held him down.

"It's alright. Please calm down."

Tony obeyed and held still. Calming down, however, was out of question. Something was wrong, but he felt so out of it that he didn't even understand what actually was going on. Why was he in hospital? And why was he feeling so terribly sick?

"Okay, Mr. Stark... I want you to look at me now. Can you do this for me? I need to test your pupillary response..."

A hand gently placed itself on one side of his face and lifted his eyelid.

No, a voice in his head said. I don't want this! Don't touch me!

Tony tried to turn away, but he was too weak, and so he produced nothing more than a stifled cough.

"It's okay..." the man kept muttering, while shining in his eyes.

Tony resigned himself to his fate and let it wash over him, although it made him more than uncomfortable. Then his stomach was obviously still not done with him, and he had to throw up again. Some hands quickly pushed his body to his side, and someone held his head in position. Tony felt like he almost couldn't make it.

"Well, well. Give him Zofran first, the vomiting needs to stop."

"I'm on it."

"Good. I'll summarize: Patient with hyperthermia, tachycardia and hypertension, mild respiratory depression, pupils severely dilated, reflexes restored to a limited extent after state of unconsciousness, patient unresponsive, however. Suspicion of alcohol intoxication in combination with cocaine intoxication... He needs IV fluids and therapy with 100% oxygen. Make sure he stays awake and don't take your eyes off his vitals, they're anything but optimal. When you get the blood results, call me immediately. I'm needed next door, but I'll be right back in a moment."

"Will do."

Tony felt a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll get you fixed up, Mr. Stark," the voice said calmly.

The words were buzzing around in Tony's head without making sense. The urge to just give in to unconsciousness was overwhelming, but he forced himself to stay awake. He was afraid of falling asleep and never waking up again.

But suddenly, Tony felt his circulatory system collapse for the second time. Instruments were beeping wildly beside him. His eyes rolled up into his head as his lungs contracted so convulsively that his air was cut off. The last thing he sensed before passing out was that he couldn't breathe anymore.

Pepper waited and waited and waited…

Fear had settled around her like a thick fog and there was no hope of sunshine. She would have given anything to have someone by her side now. Someone that didn't belong to S.H.I.E.L.D. – the agents were here, too. She was furious with them for not stopping Tony although they saw what he was doing.

Time was not passing. On the other hand – she didn't want it to pass. Tony was still alive. But how long?

"Can I get you anything?," a nurse beside her suddenly asked, "You look very pale."

"N-no, thank you," Pepper replied. Just Tony, alive...

"If you need anything, let me know."

She smiled reassuringly, which didn't get through to her in the slightest. There was nothing to smile about now. Panic rose in her again, which is why she got up and started walking back and forth, trying to get rid of all her energy. She walked past flesh wounds and lacerations that already needed to be stitched in the hallways, because of the commotion outside the emergency room by now.

Why on earth had Tony done this? Why had he taken drugs? He had been drinking so much alcohol… At first everything had seemed fine after his return to America. He had been busy with the armor and with destroying his weapons, fighting the terrorists. Then there was the incident with Obadiah and afterwards Tony telling the world he was in fact Iron Man. He had almost seemed manic after that for about four or five weeks, because of all the people adoring and worshipping him. But then it had just stopped. He still had done his „missions", but he also got more withdrawn. Tony seemed troubled more and more. Also, she had noticed the drinking was becoming more and more. But she just hadn't thought of it as severe problem. He had always been drinking "too much". There had been so many parties, so many dinners, so many boozy vacations, so many women he drank champagne with before taking them home with him... It had never occurred to her as a major problem because he had always been like that, and he had always functioned. That's who Tony Stark was. Working, inventing, being a genius, showing off, making so much money, having this billion-dollar company, always busy with some project while still fucking around, drinking and partying. So… Did she miss something?

Pepper clenched her hands into fists. The last thing she wanted was an end like this... He had yelled at her and she had been far too offended to see that he was about to have a mental crisis. He had needed her. Of course, she was aware that it was still not her fault or even responsibility to stop him from doing such things. He had to take responsibility for himself. In addition, he had pushed her away not for the first time. Nevertheless, she might could have done something...

Her vibrating smartphone snapped her out of her thoughts. With a trembling hand, she grabbed it out of her pocket. Sixty-three missed calls flashed on her display, no fewer than seven from Rhodey and four from Happy.

Did they find out about this? How? Oh, of course! The press had been outside the hotel, obviously. With her tunnel vision, she probably just hadn't noticed anyone else when they had put Tony into the ambulance. It must have already been on the news. Great new headlines...

She called Rhodey back first, who was as shocked as she was. Both seemed at a loss for words, so there was frequent silence. She could almost sense Rhodey's shock through the phone. He told her that he was on a mission in Iraq and couldn't get away right now. He almost seemed to fight back some tears while he said that and Pepper understood how hard it must be for him not to be able to come. She promised to call him as soon as she got any new information.

She then called Happy, who was equally shaken. However, just as she was about to hang up, Happy was hemming and hawing.

"What's wrong?" she asked as a result.

"I... I think I have something to tell you," Happy began, and Pepper pressed the phone closer to her ear to hear better. "Remember that boy's funeral? The one I went to with Tony?"

"Um, yeah."

"He seemed to be all messed up about it... When we got back, he got really drunk."

"Yeah, so?" Pepper asked impatiently. Now that really wasn't news.

"I got worried and stayed. I just had a weird feeling. And well. He ended up drunkenly stumbling into the pool at some point. And never surfaced."

"What do you mean?"

"He was inside the pool, under water, and didn't move. He didn't even try to resurface. I had to jump in and get him out. Pepper... he told me he couldn't make it, and I believed him. Something was going on with him, he was all distraught. But... what if I'm wrong? What if he just hadn't wanted to after all?"

"You mean, what if he wasn't planning on surfacing?"

"Yes. He didn't move at all. Just drifted under the water and stared up. Oh, I don't know, Pepper. It just came back to me. He didn't want me to tell you."

"I see."

There was silence for a moment while Pepper tried to understand what Happy meant. Was he saying that Tony hadn't intended to resurface and that this alcohol and cocaine thing now was like another sort of… attempt? It sounded wrong even in her thoughts.

"Thanks for telling me, Happy. I'll get back to you, okay?"

"Okay. I hope he'll be fine."

Pepper hung up and started pacing again, careful not to get in the way. She couldn't think about Happy's words any further. Right now, she was asking herself only one question: would Tony survive?

She completely lost track of time, had minutes or already hours passed? Exhausted, she eventually dropped onto a chair and looked absentmindedly at the wild activities around her. How long could it take for the doctors to finally decide whether her life still had meaning or not!?

Thinking of Tony... If only she had told him once how much he meant to her... But then she was continuously unsure what he actually meant to her… and if she really wanted this. Tony was not an easy man, a relationship with him was hard to imagine. Was he even able to be in a relationship? Did he even want one? And yet she just had to admit that she was attached to him, that she felt so drawn to him… Pepper buried her face in her hands. Why was she even thinking of something like that now? Maybe he was about to die… God, this was torture...

"Are you Miss Potts?"

Pepper looked up and gazed into the eyes of a tall doctor who looked like he had skipped a few meals.

"Yes," she croaked and stood up.

"I'm Dr. Astin," he said in a dark voice. "Tony Stark is being taken to the intensive care unit right now. I don't want to scare you, but he's still in a critical condition, and only the next few hours will tell if he's going to make it - and if there is any permanent damage."

Pepper's throat tightened. More hours of suffering were incoming. Permanent damage… How worse could it get?

"Mr. Stark is experiencing the effects of a cocaine overdose and alcohol poisoning. His blood alcohol level is .42% That's heavy."

"Oh my God!" Pepper said loudly. A blood alcohol level of .42%?!

"Miss Potts... he had another circulatory collapse with respiratory arrest. We had to intubate him, which means he's not breathing on his own."

In that moment Pepper thought she was completely losing it. She turned away for a second, ruffling her hair and trying in vain to stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes. My God, Tony, what on earth made you do this...?

When Pepper turned back to Dr. Astin, her face was tear-streaked and contorted. She was so scared she thought she could feel the ground moving beneath her. Dr. Astin looked at her sympathetically and waited a moment for Pepper to compose herself a bit.

"You know him very well, I suppose," he then said. "I don't want to upset you any more, as I can see how much this is taking a toll on you... but I still have to ask you something. Do you think this might be intentional? Do you think Mr. Stark could have intentionally drank that much alcohol and done that much cocaine? Could it have been a suicide attempt?"

Pepper stared at the doctor. Was this a joke? She almost felt like laughing. Tony Stark and attempted suicide? Hilarious! But then she thought about what Happy had told her earlier. And then she remembered what Tony had told her that night during their argument.

What you are doing here is self-destructive.

Maybe that's exactly what I want!

That had been his reaction when she had complained about his drinking.

So had he wanted that? Had he lost his temper and wanted to end his life on impulse? She had understood his words more like an act of defiance. Had she misinterpreted it?

"Um..." was the only thing that came out of Pepper.

"I see you don't seem entirely sure."

"I don't think Ton - Mr. Stark meant to do that..."

"But it could be?"

Pepper looked at the doctor uncertainly. If she said yes, it might put Tony - if he survived - in the psych ward. If she said no, and he had indeed attempted suicide, he might not get the treatment he needed.

"I have to confess to you that I always follow the news very closely," Dr. Astin said. "You've been able to follow quite well in the media what's been going on in Mr. Stark's life recently - and there have been some very terrible things - although, of course, I know the press has a tendency to over-dramatize."

Pepper pondered. Was there a possibility? Many things were possible. But... he would never do that to himself. It wasn't like him. Not like Tony.

"Miss Potts?"

"I don't think so. That's not the way Mr. Stark handles things. I want to be honest, I can't say for sure, but I don't think it was intentional. Tony was frustrated and I think he has some problems. But doing this on purpose? …No."

"All right, Miss Potts. We'll come back to this when Mr. Stark is stable and responsive. Until then, we'll have to wait. He is not conscious, and we can't say when he will be. I can't let you get in the ICU right now as he needs to be taken care of very closely, but if he gets better, someone will tell you. Thank you for your time. It's best you get some rest, too, you look very exhausted."

Pepper nodded and glanced after the doctor. Then she exhaled deeply. She trusted Tony. She wanted to trust him. He wouldn't do this to himself. He wouldn't do this to her.

A beeping sound and steady breathing noises gradually made its way into his mind. An incredible weakness sat in every fiber of his body. He felt as if he was awakening from centuries of hibernation. Tony tried to open his eyes, he needed to know where he was and what was going on. All his brain could manage to wonder about was why he was so weak. He couldn't even tell who he actually was right now. All thoughts and memories seemed distant and out of reach.

It would have been much easier to let himself fall back into that comforting darkness of unconsciousness. But the deep concern about not knowing what had happened made him fight against this fatigue. What if he was in danger, if he was threatened? What if they forced him to do something? What if they tried to hurt him? The thoughts were unpleasant and threatening. A tremendous inner restlessness made him try to lift his eyelids. Dark figures gathered around him in front of his inner eye. He couldn't let them hurt him! He didn't want to feel any more pain!

The beeping in his ears quickened. What was that noise? Tony panicked and managed to open his eyes but could barely make out anything in front of him. Everything appeared to him as if through a white veil.

He knew he was lying on his back, and it was not uncomfortable... So, on a... bed? And was there someone else in the room? Suddenly there was another feeling that slowly slipped into his consciousness. As if something was inserted deep in his throat, as if he was not in control of his own inhaling and exhaling... With realization came horror. And whoever was here in the room with him became aware of him as a result. The frantic beeping revealed himself.

"Calm down," the person said, touching his arm gently. "You're in hospital and safe. Everything is fine."

Nothing was fine. Panic flooded through him as his field of vision cleared some more. Some kind of tube seemed to be stuck in his throat. In fact, there were wires and tubes all over his body.

"You're intubated," said the person who had followed his gaze. "Don't try to speak."

Tony couldn't really understand the words. His brain resisted taking in too much information. But the panic did not subside. He wanted to raise his arms and rip this tube from his throat. He made a few half-hearted attempts to pass a command on to his arms which didn't work well.

"No, no, no. Don't," the person said, gently holding his hands. "Okay, I'm going to give you a sedative to help you sleep some more."

Shortly after he heard the words, Tony felt the force of fatigue wash over him.

The white veil faded into deep blackness.