Chapter 17

Tony wanted to follow Pepper, he wanted to stop her, he wanted to talk to her. But halfway through he sank to the ground. He felt like dying. The headache was unbearable and he felt terribly sick. He had to gag a few times before he abandoned his plan to follow Pepper. Instead, he leaned against the wall, panting. He could understand how angry Pepper must be right now. What a fright he had caused her this past week. As if that wasn't enough, she had been the one who had found him on that restroom floor. He had promised her that he would take better care of himself - and now this. He was such a disappointment...

Tony was shaking all over. He was so afraid. He was afraid of losing Pepper. He was afraid of losing everybody if he kept this up. And he was afraid because he felt he was losing control. He hadn't been able to stop himself from drinking last night. And then he hadn't been able to stop himself from drinking too much. The plan had been to just take the edge off. At first...

He had suffered another panic attack last night. Because he had thought about that dark cave and those terrorists and that damn water trough. It happened again and again. The thoughts and memories would not leave his head. He kept trying to think of something else. But it just didn't work.

When he thought about the fact that today was a beautiful day and the sun was shining - he thought about how dark it had been in that cave. When he washed his face in the morning - he often looked into that terrible water trough instead of the sink. When he thought about how to keep his company going, he thought about the missile with Stark Industries on it that had exploded right next to him. Everything seemed to be connected to Afghanistan. Everything. The more he tried not to think about it, the more it seemed to force itself upon him. But when he actively thought about it, it wasn't any better.

The only thing that seemed to help was alcohol. It wasn't all good then; Tony saw the pictures in front of him or had to think about Afghanistan even then - but when he was drunk, it didn't feel so bad to think about it. He was less stressed, he was less afraid, he wasn't so incapacitated. It was more like he could look at these images from a distance. So, yes, he had to admit that he might be developing a tiny little drinking problem. But he told himself that it was just a temporary thing. He could stop whenever he wanted. If it got worse, he would stop, of course. But as long as it was helping... why not? He just needed a little more time to get things right, to get everything under control.

Somehow Tony managed to get to his feet. One step at a time. First, he desperately needed to get rid of that headache. So he went back into the bathroom and took two painkillers from the mirrored cabinet, which he hastily washed down with some water from the tap.

God, he felt like shit. On top of that, Tony felt fear in every nerve; he wished he could just peel himself out of his miserable body. He just didn't want to feel anything. Right now, at this very moment, he wanted help. But there was no one here. And he didn't know if he could express it. Express what, actually? I am scared? Please help me? I don't know what to do? I can't take this anymore? Pathetic.

He couldn't go on like this. Something had to change, Pepper was right. But how? Should he follow the advice of this psychiatrist? What help could he get? He simply had no hope that there was any help for him. What had happened had happened. Those memories would stay with him forever. Nothing could change that. It had happened - and it was terrible.

Tony went into the living room and stared at his bar. He didn't know what else to do. He just didn't. He needed help - but apparently he had to help himself. So he reached behind the bar for a bottle of whiskey, opened it with trembling hands, and took a few generous swigs.

"Mr. Stark," Jarvis said emphatically. "I advise you not to drink again. Your liver enzymes are markedly higher than normal. And there's still residual alcohol in your blood."

Tony ignored Jarvis and slumped back to the floor, clutching the bottle like a life preserver. Fear constricted his throat and he tried not to lose his mind.

"Do you want me to call Miss Potts?" Jarvis' voice sounded again.

"Yes," Tony gasped, "...No! No, don't."

He didn't want to cause Pepper any more trouble. Besides, he was afraid that if he asked her, she wouldn't come. He couldn't handle a rejection right now. Tony took more swigs straight from the bottle. Besides, if Pepper saw him drinking again, she might turn her back on him for good. Assuming she hadn't already.

"Sir, I'd like to get someone involved as I'm noticing severe symptoms of stress and impaired decision-making. Would you allow me to at least send Mr. Hogan?"

"No, Jarvis. Stop bugging me. Just... give me a moment."

Jarvis didn't speak again. Tony continued to drink.

He wanted to forget. He wanted to forget everything. He wanted to forget the death of his parents, and he wanted to forget how it was back then. Too smart for the other kids as a boy, too young for the other students in college, always lonely. He wanted to forget that people had been dying for years because of his weapons. He wanted to rip the arc reactor out of his chest and pretend Afghanistan never happened. He wanted to forget Yinsen's death. He wanted to forget Obadiah's betrayal. And somehow he wanted to forget about Iron Man.

Tony wanted to forget this pain. This unbearable, piercing inner pain.

Of course, there were still things he could do. He still had his missions. The Ten Rings were still waiting for him to destroy them. He would kill them, every one of them. Then everything would be the way it was before. And then maybe he could go back to being a selfish asshole and not give a shit about anyone or anything. Not that he wanted to, but maybe that's just who he was. And maybe that's why he felt so bad. Because he was just pretending to be a better version of himself.

With trepidation, Tony noticed that Pepper did not contact him at all for the next few days. He couldn't remember how many years it had been since that last happened. Several times he was on the verge of dialing her number. But what could he say to her? I'm not good at this, he thought grimly. The days passed and Tony grew more and more restless. He had to talk to her. He needed to make sure Pepper hadn't turned her back on him.

So, after a week of silence, he finally decided to go to Pepper and see her in person. Maybe it would be easier that way than over the phone. Tony got up, put on a jacket and went downstairs to his cars.

"Jarvis..." he said as he went down the stairs. "What would you bring a woman you've upset?"

"Have you tried flowers, sir?"

Tony found himself grinning involuntarily as he got into the Audi R8 and drove off.

A short time later, Tony entered Stark Industries feeling completely out of place. He realized that he hadn't been here very often lately, and in fact, some of the employees were giving him a look of surprise.

"Mr. Stark!" a pretty brunette in high heels called out as she hurried up to him. "I didn't know you were coming. You could have sent word that you were on your way to the office today. Are you feeling better? Anyway, good to see you. Is there anything I can do for you?"

She looked at him kindly. Tony knew her by sight, but no longer knew in what capacity she worked for him. Was this his accountant? The head of a department? Could be either.

"Ah..." he said. "I'm actually just here to see Pep - Miss Potts... um... about a certain matter. That's all."

"Oh." The pretty woman looked at him a little disappointed. "Well, Miss Potts is in your office. Would you like me to take you there?"

"Thank you. But I think I can find my office on my own, even though I'm not here much."

"Of course, sorry."

Tony winked at her out of habit and then walked away quickly. He climbed the stairs to his office, stopping to say hello to a few more employees along the way. Then he stood in front of his office and took a deep breath before he knocked. Knocked... why was he knocking on his own office door?

Pepper looked up from her desk in surprise. She seemed astounded for a moment, then her expression darkened.

"What are you doing here?" she asked sharply.

"I work here."

"Is that so?"

Tony took a seat in front of the desk and looked at Pepper with what he hoped was an apologetic expression. Pepper remained silent, though, and the tense atmosphere was palpable.

"Um... That brunette out there," Tony said, frowning. "Is that..."

"Your secretary? Yes," Pepper said unimpressed and turned back to her computer.

"That's my secretary?"

"For three years."

Pepper didn't deign to smile; she typed unflinchingly, eyes fixed on the screen.

"Jarvis suggested to bring you flowers," Tony tried again.

"Nice of him. Did you get any?" Pepper asked indifferently.

"Uh... no."

Silence again. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"Come on, Pepper..."

"No! A very clear no! No 'come on, Pepper'! I won't hear of it!"

Tony watched with great discomfort as Pepper began to type louder and more frantically.

"Pepper... I'm sorry."

Pepper finally looked up, but she was clearly giving him a fake smile. "And what exactly are you sorry for this time?" she asked in a sweet voice.

"I... that I... I kind of... messed up."

"Screwed up," Pepper repeated tonelessly. "Honestly, Tony, go home. I've got a lot of work to do, playing CEO here, even though I'm not. So if that's it..."

Tony tensed. Pepper now turned to some papers on her desk, masterfully ignoring him. But Tony didn't leave. She was pissed, he could understand that, and he had to take it now. He couldn't blame her.

"I'm sorry I caused you so much worry," he began, watching Pepper's expression tensely, but it gave nothing away. "When I got back from the hospital, I thought I was going to be okay. I really did. But then... I wasn't."

Pepper didn't look up, but her eyes kept staring at the same point. So at least she was listening to him.

"I went to bed that night, and then I had a nightmare about..." Tony bit his lip, but now it had to come out, he had no choice. "About Afghanistan. And, um. Then I panicked."

Pepper looked up again, but her face was still blank. Tony felt a pang of shame come over him. He didn't really want to let anyone in on this, but he also knew he owed Pepper an explanation.

"What do you mean by Afghanistan?" Pepper asked, a touch more politely.

Tony sighed, then talked to his hands. "About my captivity. I had a nightmare about being tortured by the terrorists."

There was silence again, so after a while Tony looked up again. Pepper no longer seemed angry or indifferent. He could clearly see compassion.

"You get those a lot, don't you?" Pepper asked. "The nightmares? I remember when we were on the plane to New York... you had one too."

"Yeah," Tony said, "sometimes they're just bad dreams. But mostly they're more like... memories."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Pepper said genuinely. "Although it doesn't surprise me. I mean, I don't know exactly what happened to you over there, what they did to you... But it must have been terrible. And I'm sorry you're still suffering from it."

Tony cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. For some reason, he couldn't stand Pepper's sympathy.

"You could have called me," Pepper said softly.

"It wasn't that bad..."

"Bad enough to get you heavily drunk, even though you'd just been released from hospital after alcohol poisoning."

Tony was silent. She was right, after all. But he didn't really want to admit it.

"Tony..." Pepper said, and now she looked at him with concern. "I've noticed for a while now that you've been drinking a lot... Too much, in fact."

Oh no, not that. Tony swallowed; he didn't want to have this kind of conversation. Why on earth had he come here in the first place? Surely Pepper would have cooled down anyway, given enough time. He shouldn't have come.

"I'm really worried," Pepper added. "We're worried."

Tony listened. "We? Who's we?"

"Happy, Rhodey...me."

"So you're talking about me," Tony returned, now angry in his turn.

"Of course we're talking about you," Pepper said unperturbed. "Because we care about you."

Tony knew it was childish, but somehow he wanted to be angry right now. "What business is it of yours?!" he shouted angrily, jumping to his feet.

"Why do you always react like this when someone cares about you?"

Tony just glared at her angrily.

"You know what I think?" Pepper said calmly and stood up as well. "That you're actually glad that we're talking and worrying about you. But that you can't handle it because you've never experienced anything like this before. Someone who really cares about you. This is new and just overwhelming for you. And very sad. But we do care. So no matter what you want to throw at me right now, drop it. Because I don't mean to hurt you."

Tony's mouth was already open to say something in return, but he closed it and looked grimly at Pepper. She was right, he knew she was right, and he hated being seen through like that. He had never felt cared for, never felt safe. His parents had sent him away to boarding school as soon as they could. When Tony had visited home, it had never felt like home. Of course he had loved his parents, especially his mother, but he had never really felt like he was a part of their lives.

Pepper came around the desk and took his hands in hers. With her touch, every bit of anger suddenly faded away. There she was again, standing in front of him, this wonderful woman who cared so much and was so patient with him.

I don't have anyone but you.

For a moment they just stood there, looking into each other's eyes, it was almost magical. As if there was a light and pleasant electricity flowing through their hands. Tony could only smile at her. At Pepper, with her pretty face and her little freckles...

She leaned forward and Tony's stomach did a flip. What was she doing? Was she going to kiss him? Tony put his hands around her hips, his skin tingling pleasantly where he touched her. It suddenly felt like the night they'd danced together... and when he'd accidentally left her on the balcony when he'd meant to get drinks. But it had been a moment when they had almost kissed.

Pepper narrowed her eyes, moved closer - and then stopped. It almost looked like she smelled him.

Oh...

"Is that alcohol on your breath?" Pepper asked, leaning back.

Tony let go of Pepper and cursed inwardly. Of course she didn't want to kiss him, how could he even think of that?

"Tony?"

"I... Just one drink."

Pepper seemed to be fighting with herself, as if she didn't know what to do. Get angry, send him away, be lenient? But then Tony saw disappointment on her face, which was almost worse. With a small step, Pepper moved away from him.

"Why have you been drinking again? It's half past eleven."

Tony remained silent, looking away in embarrassment.

"I can feel your tension. I do. But isn't there something else that can calm you down a bit?" Pepper asked quietly.

Almost imperceptibly, Tony shook his head. Pepper sighed, but took his hand again and squeezed it gently. "Jesus, Tony, I'm serious. Go easy on the alcohol. What happened in New York... It doesn't seem to scare you at all."

"It... does. Sorry. I limit my drinking," Tony mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

"Please don't just say that, please do it! God, Tony... you really scare me, you know that? I get the feeling that you are almost always drunk - or at least tipsy. Do you want to get addicted to this stuff? You have to stop!"

"I heard you, Pepper. I stop, ok? I stop."

"Good… I hope it's true… Is there maybe anything I can do for you?" Pepper asked.

Tony thought for a moment. But deep down, he didn't believe anyone could do anything for him. There was nothing that could take this pain away from him.

"You could start showing up at my place again?" Tony said half-questioningly, grinning slightly.

A barely visible smile appeared on Pepper's face as well, but the disappointment and concern did not disappear. Which wasn't surprising. Nothing was gained by his answer.

"I'll take better care of myself from now on," he added in a serious tone.

"You said that before," Pepper replied.

A little later, as they left Stark Industries, another round of blinding flashes from photographers awaited them. About twenty reporters and photographers had lined up outside the entrance.

"Them again..." Pepper grumbled.

"Again?" Tony asked.

"They try to catch you here almost every day," Pepper said impatiently. "Let's go, I really don't feel like it right now."

Tony and Pepper tried to make their way through the crowd. But the reporters were very persistent in blocking their way. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see four S.H.I.E.L.D. agents approaching them quickly. They pushed the small crowd apart so that Tony and Pepper could continue.

The reporters asked about his hospitalization, his drug use, the incidents with the terrorists, and his mental problems. Tony ignored the questions, but each one hit him hard. Just like outside the hospital, the questions didn't bounce off him like they used to, but touched something fragile inside.

"Tony," a voice he recognized suddenly said right next to him. "How is the situation in Afghanistan? Any news on the Ten Rings?"

Tony jumped at the mention of the Ten Rings and turned to his right.

"Miss... Brown," he said slowly, meeting the blonde reporter's eyes.

"Almost," she said. "Miss Everhart... Brown is where I studied..."

Tony remained unimpressed; he couldn't remember all the women he'd ever slept with. After all, he had associated the name of her university with her, which was more than she could expect. What he did remember very well, however, was that she worked for Vanity Fair magazine and had shown him pictures of his weapons a few months ago, which had led him to find out that Obadiah had been selling them under the table.

"Actually, we were already on a first-name basis. It's Christine," she added.

"Uh-huh," Tony said disinterestedly, trying to move on.

But Christine held his arm and looked deep into his eyes, which made Tony stop.

"The Ten Rings were reportedly seen last week near Kabul. In Qalai Nawrooz," she said emphatically. "When will you take care of this?"

The other reporters had stopped shouting. They all held their recorders in his direction, gazing from Everhart to Tony. Only the clicking of the cameras could still be heard.

"Where did you get this information?" Tony asked quietly, feeling a knot in his stomach.

"I don't reveal my sources, you know that," Christine said with a smile. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Pepper moved uneasily beside him while Tony was at a loss for words.

"It almost seems like you don't know anything about it," Christine said, giving him a searching look.

Tony felt Pepper's hand on his arm. She was trying to get him to move on.

"Apparently, you really don't know!" Christine laughed, almost triumphantly.

"Don't get involved," Pepper whispered to him.

"I have everything under control regarding the Ten Rings," Tony said, noticing his voice trembling.

"But not in private, right?" Christine asked extra loudly, as if preparing her next move. "Alcohol? Cocaine? What's wrong, Tony? Too much stress?"

Pepper groaned and tugged at his arm again. Somewhere in his chest, Tony felt a violent surge of anger and contempt.

"How about an exclusive?" Christine asked boldly. "Just the two of us? I can give you some information, you give me some of your eloquent phrases for an article, and then... we'll see what else happens? I enjoyed the last time."

"I don't think so, Miss Brown," Tony said coldly and turned away.

"Everhart!" she called after him, and he could hear a smirk in her voice.

The reporters started asking their questions again, while the agents were now forcibly clearing a path to the parking lot.

"Where's Happy?" Pepper asked irritably, looking around.

"He's not with me."

"What, did you drive by yourself?" Pepper hissed softly, looking at him reproachfully.

Tony didn't answer and kept walking, holding his hand in front of his face, not wanting any more photos of himself.

"Tony, you... give me the keys!" Pepper demanded forcefully, holding out her hand. "I'll drive."