Chapter 14

"...and the proceeds then go to charity. We build hospitals in the third world, and another part I intend to donate to aid organizations that fight child hunger."

"Oh, how wonderful!"

"Of course, I'll add an acceptable amount myself. I'm thinking about twenty million."

"You are such a generous man."

Tony smiled down at the older lady. He had no idea who she was, although she had rushed up to him, throwing shared memories around as if she were his grandmother. Pepper stood half a step behind Tony, smiling patiently and kindly. The older lady launched into a lengthy monologue about poor children in Africa, causing Tony to lean back slightly and whisper to Pepper to somehow get rid of the lady. Pepper then gave him an unobtrusive elbow blow in the back.

The hall Pepper had rented for the charity event was large and classy; everything gleamed in white marble. It was located right inside the hotel where Tony and Pepper were residing for the weekend. Half of New York's high society had come, although Pepper had sent the invitations just the day before yesterday. A considerable amount of donations had already been collected.

Tony had been bored with the event for a while. He usually got bored relatively quickly at such events. Besides, he was still dead tired - he had managed to stay awake for the rest of the flight.

A circular white bar had been set up in the middle of the hall, and Tony decided to definitely have a drink later. Provided, of course, this old woman - with her fur coat, but oh-so-good intentions - stopped bending his ears at some point. Fortunately, a few minutes later - it was now around midnight - a DJ began to play music, whereupon the lady screwed up her face, muttered something like "this modern stuff… back then in the 70s, there was still good music" and then took her leave.

Before anyone else could address him, Tony quickly sat down at a free table and ordered champagne. Pepper sat down across from him, and they both sighed in sync. Their eyes met and they laughed briefly. One of the waitresses brought him a bottle of champagne and poured.

"Maybe we should go to our rooms soon," Pepper called over the sudden loud music. "Our schedule for tomorrow is pretty busy and we really need some sleep."

As if someone had flipped a switch, Tony's body tensed up. Sleep? No way! He wouldn't expose himself to that torture again.

"This party's just getting started," he therefore returned, although he didn't feel like celebrating either.

Tony finished his glass in one go, then watched as a couple of the younger guests headed for the prepared dance floor. Pepper seemed to know what was going on inside him, because she leaned over and gave him a concerned look.

"Tony, when was the last time you had a proper amount of sleep? You really should... give yourself some rest."

"That's what I'm doing right now."

Tony reached for the champagne bottle, but Pepper grabbed his hand to stop him.

"I know you think you need this to unwind," she said, "but I think you've had enough to drink for today."

Tony immediately noticed that Pepper had never said anything like that about his drinking habits and rampant partying in all those years. Surprised, therefore, he looked from Pepper's face to her hand clasping his wrist.

He didn't even know why he abruptly became so angry, but he noticed how it began to boil over inside him. What's it to do with her? What did she know about what he needed to unwind? And what business was it of hers anyway? She was his assistant, nothing more. She had to pick out his documents, make appointments, take important papers after him and hand him some disinfectant after shaking hands. But certainly not to interfere in his private affairs.

"Get your hand off me!" Tony hissed menacingly.

A wrinkle formed between Pepper's eyebrows, then she shook her head. "We have appointments tomorrow. You need rest, and a cool head."

"Hands off!"

"No! You don't sleep. You don't eat. You just drink. What you are doing here is self-destructive!"

"Maybe that's exactly what I want!" Tony returned angrily.

Pepper's furrow deepened. "Don't say that!"

Tony slapped her hand away and took a big sip of champagne demonstratively right from the bottle.

"All right! Then keep drinking!" Pepper's voice was trembling; Tony could see she was offended - and angry - but he was so full of anger himself that he didn't care.

"You think I don't notice there's something going on with you. You're not telling me what it is, but don't you think I'm blind! Earlier on the plane, in your sleep, you were begging someone to stop. I don't know what exactly is going on. But you can't run away from this, you're going to have to deal with it, whether you like it or not. Instead, you sit here and get drunk again! And act like an idiot, by the way."

"What do you care!?" Tony jumped up, his hands clenched into fists. "You don't understand anything, Pepper! And you never will. You don't know what I've been through!"

"You're right about that! I don't know because you won't talk to me!"

"There's nothing to talk about! Leave me alone!"

Pepper stared at him indignantly. "I'm just trying to help you!"

"But I don't need your fucking help!" Tony now shouted, and several guests turned their heads in his direction. "Just leave me alone! I'm fine! You don't have to run after me every ten minutes to see if I might have burst into tears in the meantime! I won't! So stop it and fuck off! I - am - fine!"

Tony had barely uttered the words before he regretted them. It wasn't fair. Pepper, after all, was just trying to watch his back the whole time, always taking his side and taking care of so much more than it was supposed to be her job. And now he was attacking her because she was worried about him. He really wanted to apologize, to explain that he got carried away by his anger, that he was so so frustrated about constantly being reminded of Afghanistan, and that he didn't mean it. But instead, he remained silent.

Pepper, on the other hand, stared at him as if he had just landed in a spaceship. She seemed shocked and disappointed, more than that. Tony couldn't stand that look, so he turned around and disappeared into the crowd of people giving him furtive glances.

Why had he said that? Not a single sensible reason came to his mind. As if someone else had spoken out of him. His anger faded into nothingness and deep remorse took hold of him.

What he really should do was to go back and tell her he was sorry. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Pepper couldn't believe it. Stunned, she still sat in her chair, staring at the spot where Tony had been standing just minutes before.

What was that all about? Never before had he yelled at her. But Pepper was beginning to suspect what was going on inside Tony. How could she have thought those three months in Afghanistan hadn't done that much damage? How could she have believed it was only a matter of time before he processed those things. Or had already processed - by building Iron Man and changing his life.

Tony was suffering. She could see it. But she didn't know what she could do to ease that pain when he was pushing her away like this.

Pepper understood a little more what might be going on inside Tony. Still, she was pretty upset. He shouldn't have yelled at her. And she was also concerned by the fact the conversation had escalated at that point where she had tried to stop him from drinking more champagne. She could sparsely recall moments when she hadn't seen Tony with some glass of alcohol in his hand over the past few months…

Pepper decided to go upstairs to her room. She didn't think there was anything she could do today. And she would also have to digest this rejection first. She would try to talk to him again tomorrow - when he was sober again.

The clock struck three. Charity had given way to a merry party. As far as Tony could tell - if he was still able to tell - it was just reaching its peak. Guests were dancing on the bar counter and loudly singing the songs the DJ played.

Tony tried to enjoy himself, there was no lack of decidedly nice company. The mood was good and the people friendly and pleasant. Once again, Tony was not alone - and yet felt alone at the same time.

He was sitting next to a pretty young woman, a Hollywood actress on the rise - at least she described herself as such, Tony had never heard of her. He listened only with half an ear and quickly held his porn star martini aside as a couple of guests danced on the counter in front of him where he sat. The actress began to talk about her numerous breast surgeries. Apparently, she had her breasts enlarged three times before she had to admit that they had become much too big. She had then had her boobs reduced to its original size, only to find out that they became too small. So now she had her breasts enlarged again after all.

"But you know," she said, seeming to think very hard. "Right now, I'm not so sure they're not too big again..."

Tony had to laugh hard, knocking over his glass, and spilling it. The actress could not misunderstand his laughter at all. She gave him an offended look and then disappeared without another word. Immediately the seat was taken by a young man.

Tony's laughter faded out and his thoughts drifted to Pepper. He had behaved impossible; he would have to apologize to her tomorrow first thing in the morning.

Tomorrow… it already was tomorrow. In a few hours they would have to go to their first appointment of the day. Tony didn't know how he was going to manage. He had drunk way too much and just couldn't find an end to it. He wanted to drown his frustration and sorrow. Usually this worked quite well, but tonight the alcohol seemed to deny him this wish. It was rather the opposite - Tony felt that each additional drink brought him closer to a mental breakdown. Yet somehow, he couldn't stop.

Again, he thought about his abduction and the terrible things that had happened to him. Not an hour went by without thinking of it. He just had to think of it. It forced itself on him. And it made him feel so bad. He was scared all the time, he felt sick all the time, he felt like being constantly under pressure and tension. And the worst part was that he could not cope with it, which made him feel helpless, powerless, and lost on top of it. He just couldn't take it anymore. None of it. Not the insomnia, not the nightmares, not the panic attacks, not the terrifying memories, not the loneliness, not the inability to kill the Ten Rings and provide peace.

"Hey!"

The young man next to him poked him rudely in the side.

"What?" Tony asked, annoyed.

Now was not the time for another irrelevant conversation with some random guy who was convinced that Tony really needed to hear this and that story.

"Interested?" the man asked.

"What?" Tony repeated, uncomprehending.

"You look like you could need something."

The man pulled a small, transparent bag from his pocket and placed it on the counter. Tony stared at it, confused at first. Inside the bag was white powder… Was he just been offered cocaine? Tony quickly looked around. None of the others seemed to have noticed, or they just didn't care. Tony was about to tell the guy to piss off, but then he hesitated. He was drunk, desperate, and a nervous wreck.

„Ok," he heard himself say.

The man opened the bag and sprinkled the white powder on the counter. Then he used his invitation card to form four straight lines of coke. Tony watched as if it was none of his business.

"After you," the guy said with a smile.

Tony leaned down and hesitated for a second. But then he just snorted two lines of coke, before he could start an inner discussion about whether he should do it or not. Immediately, the effect was perceptible. Tony gave a short laugh and looked around. Suddenly he felt superior. The high kicked in so quickly that he couldn't keep up. Wow...

Tony had had a few experiences with coke in the early '90s - good ones, admittedly - but today was like being rescued from a war zone. He suddenly felt so on top of everything. Tony was high within seconds, and he smiled so brightly he thought his mouth would stretch permanently. Now he was going to survive all this shit.

Tony laughed loudly, ordered another vodka, and stepped on the counter to dance with the other guests. He felt super sexy in his black suit. The dark blue tie fit so perfectly. It. fit. so. fucking. perfectly. He looked around at the other people and he knew that he was smarter than anyone of them. He was beyond smart. Was there anything he couldn't do? No! Everything was possible!

Hell yeah, he was back in the game!

Tony was staggering awkwardly through the crowd, irritated by the loud music, and annoyed by the countless touches of the people around him he was squeezing through. He tried hard not to trip over his own feet, but failed and stumbled to the ground. Everything was spinning like crazy, and he had a hard time trying to get back on his feet. After only a few steps, however, he fell down again. Two strong arms helped him up.

"You okay?" the guy shouted over the loud music.

Tony just grinned and nodded with his eyes closed before he went on. Then finally - a restroom. He pushed the door open and stumbled inside. Bile made its way up his throat and into his mouth, and he quickly slid into one of the stalls before regurgitating the drinks of the last hour. What a waste.

After that, he leaned his head against the toilet door and tried to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth. He felt quite keenly he was just coming down from his high - and he couldn't say he liked the feeling. In fact, it was pretty awful. The euphoria gave way to anxiety.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out. It was a message from Rhodey. Something about baseball. Tony couldn't read it properly because the letters were moving too much. Also, a missed call from Pepper. He looked at the time display. 5.30. Tony chuckled, at 8 would be the appointment with the first construction company. Actually.

Tony slid the phone back into his pocket and felt a slight resistance. He reached for it and pulled out a small bag; the guy from earlier had given him an extra gram of cocaine for later. With awkward movements, Tony unlocked the stall, walked out and fell down again. He just couldn't stand anymore. So he crawled over to the marble sinks, pulled himself up by them, and dumped the remains of the bag onto the surface.

Tony was aware of being dead drunk. So drunk that he was seeing double images if he stared at one spot for too long. So he tried not to stare. He was also aware that accepting the man's offer had been one of the worst ideas ever. But when he looked down at the white powder in front of him, all he could think was: Fuck it.

For a second, his eyes wandered to the mirrors in front of him. He didn't look for long. He didn't want to look. With erratic movements, he used his credit card to cut the cocaine into four straight, thin lines. Then he covered one nostril and snorted two of the lines with the other, stopped for a moment, and spontaneously decided to do also the third line.

It was too much.

Tony looked in the mirror again. He could watch his pupils displace the brown iris, growing larger and larger as the euphoric effect exploded inside of him. It exploded like nothing else ever did before. The anxiety was gone, the bad thoughts were gone, every little unpleasant feeling was gone. A triumphant sound escaped Tony's lips. Back in the game once again!

Then his heart began to race, and the room was spinning at breathtaking speed. The tiles came closer. For a moment, Tony wondered how he had gotten to the floor without realizing it, but then he decided not to care. He was lying on his side. It was all right. He simply would get up again later. There was no hurry.

Tony tasted blood. It had to come from his nose. Indifferently, he watched it slowly dripping onto the floor beside him. It wasn't much. No need to be alarmed.

But suddenly Tony felt like he was having a circulatory collapse. He broke out in cold sweat and his heart raced way too fast. And then he realized he had taken it too far. Despite the daze, something deep inside him told him that he was about to die. And somehow, he didn't care.

He felt vomit once again making its way up through his throat, and there was nothing he could do about it. His stomach was desperate to eject the alcohol, cramping constantly and violently. But he couldn't move, he couldn't turn, he couldn't sit up.

How ironic, he thought, that this was the end. It wasn't Raza and the Ten Rings who had managed to kill him. No, he had done it himself. After a night of coke, and more alcohol than he had ever managed to drink before. Right now, he was the only one in the bathroom here, and who could say for sure when the next one would come in. In ten seconds or more like in ten minutes? And would he even be still alive in ten minutes?

Tony couldn't feel his arms and legs anymore. He watched the blood mixing with vomit next to him on the white marble tiles.

No, actually he didn't want to die. If he hadn't yelled at Pepper, she would be here now, she would have prevented him from doing such stupid things, she would have made sure he got to the hotel room safely.

It was his own fault…

He was such an idiot.

And now he was going to die.

Alone.

In a toilet.

Puked all over.

On dirty tiles.

…

The restroom door opened slowly, and a leg came hopping towards him. No, two legs. Walked. In high heels. The person was yelling at him, she had blond hair - he loved blond hair. Tony tried to shake off the daze and blinked a few times.

Pepper. It was definitely Pepper. Was he hallucinating now?

"Tony! My God, what have you done?!" she cried hysterically, shaking him slightly. Her voice sounded distant, though.

"P-pepper… I-I fu… fucked… u-up..."

It was difficult to speak without having control over his own facial muscles. The color drained from his field of vision and a dull buzzing filled his ears.

"Tony! What did you do? Talk to me!"

Tony's eyes slammed shut. He had no strength to open them again. He also had no strength left to move his tongue to answer Pepper. His body was paralyzed, and he felt close to fainting. It was probably a faint of no return. How tragic. Although alcohol and cocaine kept the fear away from him that he was actually supposed to feel, at least he felt something else. Pain. His lungs contracted more painfully with each heavy breath, and his stomach tried really hard to push the last remnants of the alcohol back out.

"Tony! TONY! Stay awake!"

But Tony couldn't stay awake. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't sense. Nothing but pain in his lungs and stomach.

"TONY!"

It was almost a bit of relief he felt as he lost the battle against fainting. His mind shut down and he slipped further and further away. Away from reality. Into nothingness.