Chapter 14

"Tony! Wake up! Tony!"

Pepper stared in horror at Tony, who was unresponsive. She shook him again and again, 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. Moments ago, she had been lying on her hotel bed, still dressed and unable to sleep. The scene with Tony had affected her more than she cared to admit. Then suddenly there had been several frantic knocks on her door. She had almost imagined 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, sometimes they didn't even answer. And now one of them had been here, almost out of breath, at her door in the early morning, obviously concerned. He had explained to her curtly that Tony seemed to be completely out of control.

As they rushed to the elevator, she had snapped at him for not intervening himself. But the agent had only replied that his orders were to protect Stark from all outside dangers, not from himself. The agreement between Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D. was not to interfere in his personal affairs, but since he had a bad feeling, he wanted to ask Pepper to come down immediately. Stark, he said, was so drunk he couldn't even walk properly and had just disappeared into one of the restrooms. He thought Stark was going to do something stupid.

And now he was lying here in front of her. He had thrown up all over himself and blood was dripping from one nostril. It was not a pretty picture.

Gradually, more guests entered the bathroom and the general excitement grew. She and a few others tried to wake Tony, but he still showed no reaction.

When the paramedics finally arrived a few minutes later, Pepper was already on the verge of a mental breakdown. Tony was barely breathing and looked terrible. Now a female paramedic leaned over Tony.

"What did he take?"

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

"It's probably cocaine," the agent next to her said very quietly.

Pepper jumped and stared at him. What?! "Why would you say that?" Was this why the agent had wanted her to come down so badly?

"Mmm," the paramedic made, checking Tony's pupil 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 of white powder residue. "This was here at the sink, probably coke. And... there's still a line left."

Pepper winced again. Coke? Was this 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 with pain even in unconsciousness...

"We need to take this, please," one of the paramedics said, reaching for the bag, then turning to Pepper, adding, "They'll examine him more closely at the hospital."

"How bad is it?" Pepper asked.

"Looks like an overdose," the paramedic said. "We're taking 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 department. Apparently there had been a bus accident somewhere. It was unpleasantly hectic and noisy. Doctors were rushing around, shouting instructions, and distraught relatives were crying and standing in the way.

Pepper hurried to the gurney where Tony lay. They pushed him into one of the treatment rooms where Pepper wasn't allowed, and finally stopped, completely out of breath even though they weren't running.

She couldn't believe what was happening. Had Tony... had he really...? And then had he overdosed immediately?

She didn't know what to do with Tony anymore. He had been very impulsive and hot-tempered the last few months. And maybe even desperate. But how desperate? Overdose-desperate?

Exhausted, Pepper settled into one of the chairs against the far wall and took a deep breath. She couldn't help blaming herself. How could she leave him alone? How could she have gone to her room after their fight? She had seen that he was in a bad state. He had given her a demonstration of his catastrophic emotional state. Yet she had left.

"Miss Potts?"

Pepper's head snapped up. A nurse stood before her.

"I need to ask you some questions. It may help us with Mr. Stark's treatment. Can you do that?" she added with a well-meaning smile.

"Oh... yeah, sure."

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

"No... I 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. Um... Does Mr. Stark take drugs regularly?"

"Sorry?"

The nurse looked at Pepper. "Not to your knowledge, at least." She noted something. "It might help us to know something about the patient's drug use pattern. Regular users have a higher tolerance, while patients who never or only occasionally use are more likely to overdose 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."

"Well, that helps a lot, Miss Potts."

Pepper waited tensely while the nurse took some notes.

"I know you said you left at 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."

"Okay. Well, we'll know more soon. In the meantime, we will try to stabilize Mr. Stark's condition. One last thing, though. That bright shining round..." she made 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. Apparently it can't be removed. The electromagnet keeps the shrapnel away from his heart."

"Uh... okay. Well, thanks." She looked a little confused for a moment, but then smiled encouragingly. "If we have any news, we'll let you know."

She put a hand on Pepper's shoulder for a moment, then walked back into the treatment room.

Pepper collapsed in her seat. No, this couldn't be true. Tony might have done some crazy things in his life, but this? Why would he do 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 the bloody bodies of the injured from the bus accident were constantly being pushed past her didn't help.

Several suns passed by. Faces appeared - and disappeared. It was silent. Unbearably quiet. As if someone had turned off the sound. Everything around him shone in sterile white and blinded him. It hurt his eyes, so he preferred to keep them closed. A muffled murmur around him, unintelligible to his ears. His lungs burned and he could barely breathe.

"Mr. Stark? Can you hear me?"

It was a male, firm, strong voice that Tony couldn't identify. He could barely make out what the words meant.

"Mr. Stark," the voice said louder.

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

"I'll see if he responds to a painful stimulus," the voice said, and in the next moment Tony felt a sharp pain in the area above the reactor, as if someone were rubbing it hard with a fist. He didn't have the strength to move much, but he moaned in pain, and next to him he heard an increasingly rapid beeping sound.

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

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

"It's okay… Calm down."

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

"Okay, Mr. Stark... I need you to look at me now. Can you do that? I need to test your pupil response..."

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

No, said a voice in his head. I don't want this! Don't touch me! What if they want to hurt me?

Tony tried to turn away, but he was too weak, and all he could manage was a stifled cough.

"It's okay..." the man kept muttering as he shone into his eyes.

Tony resigned himself to his fate and let it wash over him, even though it made him more than uncomfortable. Then he had to throw up again, as his stomach obviously had not finished with him yet. A couple of hands quickly pushed his body to the side and someone held his head in place. Tony felt like he was going to suffocate at any moment.

"Oh, dear. Give him Zofran first, the vomiting has to stop."

"I'm on it."

"Good. I'll summarize: Patient with hyperthermia, tachycardia and hypertension, mild respiratory depression. Pupils are dilated, reflexes restored to a limited extent after state of unconsciousness. Patient reacts to a painful stimulus but is unresponsive. Suspected alcohol intoxication in combination with cocaine intoxication. He needs IV fluids and 100% oxygen therapy. Make sure he stays awake and don't take your eyes off his vital signs, they are anything but optimal. When you get the blood results, call me immediately. I'm needed in room three, but I'll be right back."

"Will do."

Tony felt a hand on his shoulder.

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

The words buzzed around Tony's head, making no 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 beeped wildly next to him. His eyes rolled back into his head as his lungs convulsed and his air was cut off. The last thing he felt before passing out was that he couldn't breathe.

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 at her side right now. Someone who didn't belong to S.H.I.E.L.D. - the agents were here, too. She was furious at them for not stopping Tony when they saw what he was doing. How could they let him do this?

Time did not pass. Then again - she didn't want it to. Tony was still alive. But for how long?

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

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

"If you need anything, let me know, okay?"

The nurse smiled reassuringly, which didn't get through to her at all. There was nothing to smile about now. She panicked again, so she got up and started pacing, trying to get rid of all her energy. She walked past the flesh wounds and lacerations that were already being stitched in the hallways because of the commotion outside the emergency room.

Why in the world had Tony done this? Why had he taken drugs? It was nothing but self-destruction, what he had been doing these past months.

He had been drinking so much alcohol... In the beginning, everything had seemed to be fine after his return to America. He had been busy with the armor and destroying his weapons, fighting the terrorists. Then there had been the incident with Obadiah and Tony telling the world that he was indeed Iron Man. He had seemed almost manic for about four or five weeks after that because of all the people worshipping and adoring him. But then it had just stopped. He still did his "missions", but he also became more withdrawn. Tony seemed more and more troubled. She had also noticed that he was drinking more and more. But she just hadn't thought of it as a serious problem. He always drank '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... It had never occurred to her that it was a big problem, because he had always been like that, and he had always functioned. That was just the way Tony Stark was. Working, inventing, being a genius, showing off, making so much money, having this billion dollar company, always busy with some project and still screwing around, drinking and partying. So... Did she miss anything?

Pepper clenched her hands. The last thing she wanted was an ending 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 her responsibility to stop him from doing such things. He needed to take responsibility for himself. Besides, it was not the first time he had pushed her away. Still, she could have done something...

Her vibrating smartphone snapped her out of her thoughts. With a shaking hand, she pulled it out of her purse. Sixty-three missed calls flashed on her screen, no less than seven from Rhodey and four from Happy.

How had they found out? The press must have been outside the hotel. With her tunnel vision, she probably hadn't noticed anyone else when they put Tony in the ambulance. It must have been on the news already. Great new headlines...

She called Rhodey back first, who was as shocked as she was. Both of them seemed at a loss for words, so there was a lot of silence. She could almost feel Rhodey's shock through the phone. He told her that he was on a mission in Iraq and couldn't leave right now. He almost seemed to be fighting back some tears as he said this, 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 had any new information.

She then called Happy, who was also upset. But just as she was about to hang up, Happy stopped her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

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

"Um, yeah."

"He seemed really upset about it... After the funeral, he got wasted.

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

"I got worried and stayed. I just had a funny feeling. And well. At some point he stumbled drunk into the pool. And never came up."

"What do you mean?"

"He was in the pool, underwater, and he didn't move. He didn't even try to surface. 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 very upset. But... what if I'm wrong? What if he just didn't want to?"

"You mean... You mean maybe he wasn't planning to surface?"

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

"I see."

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

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

"Okay. I hope he's okay."

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

She completely lost track of time, was it minutes or hours? Exhausted, she finally fell 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 had any meaning or not?

Thinking of Tony... If only she had told him once how much he meant to her... But then she was always unsure what he really meant to her... and if she really wanted that. Tony was not an easy man, a relationship with him was hard to imagine. Was he even capable of being 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 about this right now? Maybe he was about to die... God, this was hell...

"Are you Miss Potts?"

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

"Yes," she croaked, standing up.

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

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

"Mr. Stark is experiencing the effects of a cocaine overdose and alcohol poisoning. His blood alcohol level is 4.2. That's really bad."

"Oh my God!" Pepper said loudly. A blood alcohol level of 4.2?!

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

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

When Pepper turned back to Dr. Astin, her face was streaked with tears and contorted. She was so frightened that she thought she could feel the floor move beneath her. Dr. Astin looked at her sympathetically and waited a moment for Pepper to compose herself.

"You know him very well, I suppose," he said. "I don't want to upset you any more, because I can see how much this is affecting you... but I have to ask you something. Do you think he could have done this on purpose?

Could it have been a suicide attempt?"

Pepper stared at the doctor. Was this a joke? She almost wanted to laugh. Tony Stark and a suicide attempt? 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.

Had he wanted this? Had he lost his temper and wanted to end his life on impulse? She had understood his words more as an act of defiance. Had she misinterpreted them?

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

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

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

"But it could be?"

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

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

Pepper considered. 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 deals with problems. I'll 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 to do it 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's not conscious, and we can't say when he will be. I can't let you into the ICU right now because he needs to be monitored very closely, but when he's better, someone will let you know. Thank you for your time. It's best if you get some rest too, you look very exhausted."

Pepper nodded and looked after the doctor. Then she took a deep breath. 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 the steady sound of breathing gradually found its way into his mind. There was an incredible weakness in every fiber of his body. He felt like he was waking up from centuries of hibernation.

Tony tried to open his eyes, he had to know where he was and what was going on. All his brain could do was wonder why he was so weak. He couldn't even tell who he was right now. All thoughts and memories seemed distant and unreachable.

It would have been much easier to let himself fall back into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness. But the deep anxiety of not knowing what had happened made him fight against this weariness.

What if he was in danger?

What if they were trying to hurt him? The thoughts were uncomfortable and threatening. A tremendous inner restlessness made him try to open his eyelids. Dark figures gathered around him in front of his mind's eye. He couldn't let them hurt him! He didn't want to feel any more pain!

The beeping in his ears accelerated. What was that noise? Tony panicked and managed to open his eyes, but he 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 anyone else in the room?

Suddenly there was another feeling that slowly crept into his consciousness. As if something was stuck deep in his throat, as if he had no control over his own inhaling and exhaling...

With the realization came the horror. And whoever was in the room with him became aware of him. The frantic beeping revealed itself.

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

Nothing was fine. Panic flooded through him as his field of vision continued to clear. There seemed to be some kind of tube 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 didn't really understand the words. His brain refused to take in too much information. But the panic did not subside. He wanted to raise his arms and rip the tube from his throat. He made a few half-hearted attempts and finally reached his mouth.

"No, no, no. Don't," the person said, gently holding his hands down. "You still need that to breathe... Okay, I'm going to give you a benzodiazepine to help you calm down."

Shortly after hearing the words, Tony felt the power of fatigue wash over him.

The white veil faded to deep black.