Chapter 15

It was early morning and Pepper was in a state of half-sleep. In fact, she was so tired she could barely hold herself upright in the chair, but she refused to give in to exhaustion.

Her stomach was just a tight knot. She hadn't been able to eat since Tony had been brought in. Which was now about twenty-four hours. She was slowly reaching her limits.

Then she saw a nurse coming towards her. She couldn't tell anything from the expression on her face. Was she coming to give her the all-clear? Or to tell her it was over, that there was nothing more they could do?

"So you're still here," she said with a smile. "Mr. Stark's condition has stabilized. We think he's going to pull through."

"He is?! Thank God..." Pepper exhaled, fear giving way to a deep sense of relief.

"Now it remains to be seen what damage the substances may have done to his brain. But all in good time. We have to be patient."

Pepper nodded and brushed a strand of hair from her face. She didn't want to know what state her own appearance was in by now.

"You can see him if you want. He's still sleeping, but I suppose since you've been waiting here for so long..."

"Yes. Thank you."

The nurse led Pepper to the ICU and to Tony's room, then left her alone with one last friendly look. With an anxious glance at the noisy equipment next to his bed, she stepped closer and then lowered herself into a chair beside him.

Again she saw Tony so vulnerable. Again, he was as pale as a sheet and had narrowly escaped death. What was she going to do with him?

It was an eerie picture. The tube in his throat, the machine next to it breathing for him. The IV in his hand, connected to a drip. The electrodes on his chest next to the glowing reactor.

But he was alive. And that was all that mattered right now.

Tony felt the touch. Someone was squeezing his hand. It felt good. Familiar. He kept his eyes closed. Maybe he didn't like what he was about to see.

He didn't know why, but on some impulse he wondered if he deserved to have someone sitting at his bedside holding his hand.

For a few minutes he just enjoyed the touch, it calmed him. Then he decided to open his eyes. He wanted to see Pepper. He knew it was her.

Everything was still a bit blurry, but he recognized Pepper's face, which looked very tired. A smile flashed back at him, and he would have liked to return it, but he was too exhausted. What he had seen was enough anyway.

Pepper was here with him. Everything was all right.

Pepper watched as Tony's eyes closed again. But he was alive! He had been awake! He was going to be okay!

And with that assurance, she stepped out into the hallway to make a quick call to Rhodey and Happy. Full of newfound confidence, she then went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat. Her stomach was already half in knots, she hadn't eaten in so long. After that, she would go back to the hotel and finally get some sleep. Now that she knew he was alive - that he would survive - she could finally do something for herself. And that was simply to take care of her most basic needs.

When Tony regained consciousness again, he felt a little better. So much so that he could keep his eyes open. The room he was in was white, clean and bright. At first he didn't know where he was. Then he noticed the nasal oxygen tube in his face. This was a hospital. Definitely. Oh, no. Not good. Not good at all.

Tony's mind was racing. He was desperately searching for the memory that would explain why he was lying in a hospital bed. Which, he already knew, was not good. Not good at all.

But he just couldn't remember. Nothing.

Tony started to panic, the uncertainty caused by the lack of memory made him completely frightened and confused. Suddenly the room was too white, too clean, too bright. Tony Stark hated hospitals. He hated everything about them. This really wasn't good. Not good at all. Disastrous.

Again, the beeping next to him became faster, it had been following him for a while now. That must have been his telltale racing heartbeat.

The door opened quickly. Probably alarmed by the beeping monitor, a doctor in a long white coat entered, followed by a nurse.

"Ah. Good to see you awake, Mr. Stark."

Tony jumped at the words, even though he had seen them enter.

"I'm Dr. Stanford, your attending physician here in the ICU," he said pleasantly.

"ICU?" Tony asked croakily and immediately had to cough. His throat was burning and he sounded hoarse.

"You've been intubated, your throat may be irritated for a while," the doctor explained, now standing next to Tony and looking down at him with raised eyebrows. "I can see and hear that you are very agitated," he commented, turning off the annoying beeping with the push of a button.

"N-no, not at all," Tony said hoarsely. He tried to hide his trembling hands under the blanket but got stuck with the cannula in his hand and winced. Dr. Stanford exchanged a quick but meaningful look with the nurse, then read something off the monitors next to Tony.

"Your vitals are much better. How are you feeling?"

"Good," Tony said, shifting restlessly in bed. "Uh, n-no, not good, to be honest. W-why am I here? What happened?"

"Not having any memories is not unusual in this case," the doctor explained, then looked at Tony seriously. "Well, you were rushed into ER at 5.58 a.m. on Saturday morning. You were suffering from alcohol poisoning and a cocaine overdose; your blood alcohol level was .42%. You know what that means? You were in critical condition and you arrived just in time. While we were administering the first intravenous measures, you went into respiratory arrest and we had to intubate you. That was a close call, Mr. Stark."

Tony couldn't even make out the words at first. .42% blood alcohol level. Alcohol poisoning. Cocaine. Overdose. Respiratory arrest. What?!

"Alcohol and cocaine are a very bad combination. The substances have a dehydrating effect, thus depriving the body of water, while the cardiovascular system is stimulated by the activating effects of the substances. As a result, you became quite overheated, had a very high blood pressure and pulse, and eventually passed out. The excessive amount of alcohol in your system was the cause of your respiratory arrest. The oxygen tube in your nose will help you breathe for a while..."

Tony nodded absentmindedly, trying to absorb and process the information.

"Your condition is stable now. However, we will keep you here for a few more days for monitoring."

Gradually, memories began to emerge in Tony's mind and the whole thing began to make more and more sense. Tony was more than just shocked at himself. He had definitely pushed it too far. He had lost control. Completely.

"Mr. Stark?" the doctor asked as he looked at the monitor with concern. "Your heart rate is 170 right now. I know this must be frightening, but please try to calm down."

Easier said than done. If Tony had known how to do it, he would have finally found a secret cure for his panic attacks. God, he hated doctors.

"W-wait, you said Saturday morning... does that mean... what does that mean? What day is it now?"

Tony's panic increased. This was an even bigger loss of control than he had first thought. Dr. Stanford glanced at his watch.

"Almost 4 p.m.," he said then. "Monday."

Monday. He had been out for more than two days. Tony sat up in his bed. He couldn't take another second of this. He had to get out of here.

"Nah, nah, nah. Don't even think about it," the doctor warned him as he tried to get up.

There was no need to physically stop Tony. He was still much too weak. The room began to spin. It was all too much.

"Now take a deep breath. I know this is a lot to take in," the doctor said.

He read off some data from the monitors and gave Tony a chance to collect himself. The nurse smiled at him, friendly and reassuring, and he decided to hate her too.

"I'm afraid there are some things we need to talk about now, Mr. Stark," Dr. Stanford said, his tone becoming even more serious. "A case like yours obliges us to ask you this. Um... Did this happen because of a suicidal impulse? Or are you currently having suicidal thoughts?"

Tony was stunned. "What? No!"

Dr. Stanford noted something and nodded. "I will still arrange for you to speak with a psychiatrist. He will decide the next steps after we can discharge you from the ICU."

Tony stared at the doctor, uncomprehending. "The next steps?"

"Yes. A psychiatrist will determine if inpatient psychiatric therapy needs to be initiated."

Tony was still far from catching up, but after a brief moment of silence, he realized. "You've got to be shitting me! I don't want to - I don't need to - there's no way I'm going to talk to a shrink! I'm not suicidal and I didn't try to kill myself. I just... lost control. I didn't mean to."

Dr. Stanford smiled mildly. "Look, I'm not suggesting anything. But it is my duty to check what kind of mental state you are in and to make sure you get the treatment you need. I am responsible for you and cannot take any risks. Nor would I want to, for that matter."

He paused briefly, giving Tony the opportunity to stare at him angrily.

"It may not have been your intention. But the fact that you were willing to take such a huge risk... I think you understand my position?"

Tony didn't know what to say. There was no way he needed psychiatric help. He was fucking Tony Stark!

"I don't need that," Tony said in a desperate and pathetic attempt to get out of this somehow.

"Without a doubt," Dr. Stanford replied dryly, then looked down at his clipboard and frowned. "Your liver enzymes are elevated."

Tony didn't answer.

"Do you have a drinking problem?"

"No. But I do have a problem with being surrounded by stupid people. It makes my brain melt."

Dr. Stanford smiled, noted something else, then looked at Tony. "You're lucky. Very lucky to be clear. Do you even realize what happened?"

"Yes," Tony said, "and I don't want to seem ungrateful. I, um, I just don't like hospitals very much."

"I understand, you're not the only one."

At that moment, the door opened and Pepper entered. The dark clouds in Tony's mind gave way to the first rays of sunshine. He was so happy to see Pepper.

"Tony!" she called in a high voice, smiling broadly at him. "You're awake!"

"A visitor. Good," Dr. Stanford said, giving Pepper a friendly look. "I'll check on you again for evening rounds. Get some rest." Then he leaned over to the nurse and murmured: "Check on him again in twenty minutes. If he hasn't calmed down by then, give him another dose of lorazepam as per his chart."

The nurse nodded and followed the doctor out of the room.

Pepper stood indecisively in the room; her expression suddenly hardened.

She slowly approached him and sat down in a chair next to his bed. They both remained silent, avoiding looking into each other's eyes. Tony suspected they were both waiting for the other to make the first move. The tension was heavy. Tony looked nervously at Pepper, then cleared his throat.

"Pepper, I'm... I'm really sorry," Tony finally said.

Pepper gave a short snort and then looked up. "You're sorry? About what, exactly?"

"Um," Tony said uncertainly. "All of this? I crossed a line... I didn't mean to -"

"Really? You didn't mean to?"

"Of course I didn't! That wasn't supposed to happen."

"Oh, it wasn't supposed to happen? What exactly wasn't supposed to happen? You going to this charity event in a completely miserable, overtired state? You getting drunk even though I asked you to stop? You yelling at me, claiming that you were fine and that I should leave you alone - or fuck off, to be precise? You being hospitalized? Or that it was me who found you and saw you almost die? Any of it? Or all of it? So you say you didn't want this to happen. Are you sure?"

Pepper took a deep breath as Tony stared at her, startled.

"Because I think you very much wanted this to happen," she said slowly.

"Pepper..."

Pepper's eyes reddened and tears streamed down her cheeks. Tony struggled to sit up straighter in bed and watched as Pepper looked at him with disappointment and fear.

"Pepper," Tony began again, reaching out to her. "I'm so sorry..."

Pepper grabbed his hand, more tears dripping into her lap. Finally, a small sob came out of her mouth.

"Please believe me, I don't know what got into me. You're right, I wasn't feeling well that night and I should have listened to you. I should have gone up to our hotel rooms with you. I was frustrated... I was stressed... I... I'm sorry." Tony didn't even know if that was the truth. Had he not really provoked all of this? Had he really not realized what he was doing while he was doing it? Tony's heart rate increased again. He had. He had realized it. He just hadn't cared about the consequences.

"Tony," Pepper said seriously, wiping her cheeks with her free hand. "This can't go on. Something's very wrong, something seems to be affecting you very much. And I have the feeling that it's getting worse. I'm afraid."

"You don't have to be afraid."

"I can see that you're not feeling well. For quite a while now," Pepper continued, unperturbed. "Tony, please. You've got to do something. Something has to change. You have been drinking so much alcohol lately, you have to stop that. And cocaine? Tony, cocaine?!"

"Yeah, that was... not good. But don't worry about me," Tony said, barely able to stand the sight of Pepper crying over him. "I know it got out of hand, but..."

"But? But?! You almost died!" Pepper shouted now, visibly angry. "Are you seriously trying to downplay this? This is serious! So please take it seriously, I'm not saying this as a joke, and I'm not saying this to make you mad! I was so scared. I thought you were going to die! You almost did! Doesn't that have any meaning to you?"

"It does," Tony said upset, trying to stand up to her gaze. "And I'm sorry for what I put you through. That's exactly why you and I... why we can't..."

Pepper's mouth dropped open. Tony couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Damn it, why couldn't he just say it?

"Pep, please forgive me... I'll take better care of myself from now on. I promise."

Pepper still looked at him angrily, but then she nodded, almost imperceptibly. If it was up to her, this conversation was obviously far from over, but Tony didn't want to talk about it now. He was in the hospital, and that meant only one thing. He. Had. To. Get. Out.

"Pepper, can you get me out of here any faster? They want me to see a psychiatrist."

"Does that surprise you?" Pepper asked quietly. "And no, I can't. I don't want to."

Tony took his eyes off her. He could understand Pepper, but he could also understand himself. He wanted to get out of here, he wanted to go home, he didn't want to talk to anyone about how he was doing.

"I'm sure it won't hurt you to talk to the psychiatrist," Pepper said.

"The only person I would talk to would be you." The words came out of his mouth as if by themselves, and he was as surprised as his assistant.

"You... you can tell me anything, Tony. Whatever it is..." she formulated timidly.

No. He. Just. Didn't. Want. To. Talk. About. It.

He didn't want to let those memories come back. Tony felt the familiar fear rise in him. He stared at the ceiling. Was it time to tell her everything? Should he tell her about the nightmares, about the horrible details he had to see over and over again? About the panic attacks that overcame him at the most inopportune moments? About the constant fear that the Ten Rings would strike again, that they would capture and torture him again; or worse, that they would harm her, Rhodey, or the others around him? Should he tell her about the guilt that weighed on him like a ton because he couldn't protect those he loved? About the pressure that came with the responsibility of being Iron Man? About the unbridled hatred and anger he felt toward Obadiah for betraying him? Should he tell her about that now?

Pepper's hand closed tightly around his, and the spot tingled as if it were on fire. He was so attached to this woman. She was the best thing in his life, and she deserved to know the truth. But it was so hard. He felt that he needed her. And he couldn't let that happen.

"Do you think I wanted to kill myself?" he asked softly, still staring at the ceiling.

Silence. Tony held his breath.

"You just told me you didn't, and I believe you, Tony. I trust you."

Smiling, he closed his eyes as a warm, comfortable feeling spread through his body. Pepper trusted him.

Tony wanted to tell her. Tell her what she meant to him, what he felt for her. There was a long moment of silence, then Tony opened his eyes again and looked at her. A hint of pink appeared on her cheeks as he squeezed her hand tighter.

"Pepper," Tony began, his heart pounding in his throat. "I... I want to say... I, um, I -"

Why was it so hard to say a bunch of words? I like you. Come on! Just say it! I. Like. You. Very simple. You mean a lot to me. Thank you for sitting here at my hospital bed. Thank you for staying with me. Thank you for taking care of me. I needed you and you were there, you saved me.

Pepper's mouth opened slightly and her eyes went wide. He could tell her now. He had narrowly escaped death, what was he waiting for? The mood was almost eclectic.

The door opened and the nurse came back in.

"I just want to check on you again," she said with a bright smile.

Tony looked at Pepper, but the moment was gone. Tony's courage faded. He noticed that Pepper had withdrawn her hand. She cleared her throat loudly.

"Uh, what did you want to tell me?"

"Oh... it can wait."

"Uh, okay."

Pepper looked at him expectantly for a moment, then slowly stood up, her eyes still on him.

"I'm going to get a cup of coffee," she said, looking at him indecisively. "...Right?"

Tony also stared at Pepper. No, don't get coffee, stay with me. I need you here. Please stay.

"Right..." Tony replied, trying to smile. "Um, yeah, sure. Go get some coffee. It's not like I'm running away. And Nurse 'Cheshire Cat' has to change my diaper anyway, isn't that right?"

The nurse laughed loudly while Tony looked sadly after Pepper, who closed the door behind her. Tony sank back into his pillows in disappointment.

"So, are you feeling better?" the nurse asked, looking at the monitor.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Uh-huh," she said unconvinced, giving him a searching look. "Well, how about I give you something to calm you down and you... just try to breathe for a bit. Okay?"