Chapter 21

Tony lay in his bed, the room around him dark and silent. Exhaustion had completely overwhelmed him, and his body felt like it had been run over by a bus. Between disturbing dreams, he would wake up and see the familiar figure of Happy sitting in a chair, watching over him. The hours passed slowly in a dense fog of sleep, intoxication, and pain.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Tony noticed that Bennett had taken Happy's place. The agent sat quietly beside his bed, a book in his hand, but his eyes were alert, watching his every move.

When Tony was fully awake a short time later, he felt like he was dying. His head was throbbing, he was nauseous, and his thoughts were sluggish and confused. The hangover was merciless and the pain from his injuries made everything worse. Tony moved slightly and groaned in pain.

Bennett put the book down immediately. "Mr. Stark? How are you feeling?"

Tony blinked and tried to speak, but his throat was dry and raw. "Bad... really bad," he finally managed to get out, holding his injured side.

He had intended it to sound sarcastic, but he heard for himself that it sounded rather whiny.

Bennett nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry you got hurt. That shouldn't have happened."

Tony was surprised that Bennett apologized to him when he felt it should be the other way around.

"I've put some water and painkillers next to your bed," Bennet continued when Tony didn't say anything. "I'll give you some privacy now. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs."

After a moment of silence, the agent stood and quietly left the room, leaving the door ajar. The silence in the large bedroom was oppressive, for with the silence came thinking. The shock of two and a half days of heavy drinking hit him. Panic spread through him, his heart was pounding, and he couldn't stop his hands from shaking.

After the attack, Happy and the agents had taken him to the hospital. After a two-hour stay, during which a doctor had cleaned, stitched, and bandaged his stab wound, and had also been able to determine that neither his organs had been hit nor his bleeding nose broken, he had been able to go home, where they had put him straight to bed.

But he still couldn't understand what had happened. How could he have lost control of himself to such an extent? He only remembered fragments of the dark, flickering club and how he got completely shit-faced. The attack outside made even less sense to him. Who could it have been? That's for my family. Which family had he hurt? Who could have been so angry and desperate that they would do such a thing? Were they members of the Ten Rings?

The day dragged on endlessly. Tony spent most of his time crawling back and forth between his bed and the toilet. Every time he thought he had nothing left to throw up, a new wave of nausea would hit him. His body rebelled against him and there was nothing he could do but endure it.

He lay in bed for hours, unable to sleep but too sick to get up. The pain in his side throbbed incessantly and every breath he took seemed to aggravate the wound. He tried to concentrate on the sounds he heard – the hum of the air conditioner, the distant chirping of birds, and the roar of the sea – but nothing could ease the agony. And repeatedly the fear returned, like a black shadow threatening to suffocate him.

Between bouts of nausea, he managed to take a few sips of water, but it was of little help. Every attempt to drink a halfway acceptable amount ended with a quick retreat to the bathroom.

Late in the afternoon, Bennett came in to check on him again. "You need anything?"

Tony shook his head, his eyes heavy and tired. "I'm good," he mumbled. "But can you tell me if anyone else was hurt? Did you catch the attackers?"

"Everyone is fine, and yes, the attackers were caught. Agent Coulson will have a word with you later."

Tony nodded weakly and sank back into the pillows.

After agonizing hours Tony finally dragged himself down the stairs that evening, each step feeling like an insurmountable hurdle. When he reached the living room, he found Bennett sitting on the couch, reading again. The agent stood up promptly as Tony entered.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked with a worried look on his face.

Tony nodded, even though it wasn't true. "Yes, a little. Thank you, Bennett. Also for... yesterday."

Determined, Tony walked over to the bar and poured himself a large glass of scotch. Bennett watched him with a furrowed brow. "You sure this is a good idea, sir?"

Tony hesitated, glass in hand, before raising it to his lips. "Probably not," he murmured, taking a sip.

Then he sat down on the couch, resting his left arm on his thigh and burying his face in his hand. He held the glass with his right, trying to take small sips without throwing up again. Bennett's eyes followed him. He seemed genuinely concerned, but he didn't dare say anything. Instead, he stood against the wall with his arms folded behind his back and watched Tony in silence.

While the sun gradually went down, Tony didn't move. Slowly, cautiously, he took more small sips, hoping the whiskey would clear his mind and ease his hangover. But there was no relief. Instead, he realized that he was going round in circles again, always looking for a way out that might not even exist.

Tony felt the familiar fear spreading through him and at the same time an emptiness that no amount of alcohol could fill. He took another sip and closed his eyes. The images of the last few days blurred before his mind's eye, a chaos of flickering light, blood, screams, and the faces of Happy and the agents, the silent worry in their eyes. He had lost control again. Every time he thought he'd hit rock bottom he found a way to sink even lower.

And here he was again, alone with his thoughts and a glass of whiskey, unable to break the vicious cycle.

Pepper looked in the rearview mirror of her Audi. Red, watery eyes were staring back at her, and Pepper carefully dabbed the tears away with a tissue so as not to ruin her make-up. She felt miserable. Miserable because she had made a choice. Miserable because she knew of no other way out.

Pepper took a few breaths to calm herself, then got out and walked the familiar path to Tony's front door, where a tired and weary Bennett stood and gave her a curt nod. As she entered, she could hear voices and when she reached the living room she saw Coulson standing in front of Tony who was sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

The bridge of Tony's nose and the area under his eyes were completely blue and purple. The rest of his face was looking at her as pale as a corpse when he saw her coming in. He looked terrible and Pepper's heart sank.

For now, she kept her distance from the two of them and decided not to interfere. She was almost a little relieved to be able to postpone what she wanted to tell Tony, even if it was only for a few minutes.

"... we were able to arrest everyone on the spot," Coulson just explained. "The assailant who injured you is a former doctor from Syria. His entire family was killed about two years ago in an attack using Stark Industries weapons. He was the only survivor. Shortly thereafter, the hospital where he worked was also bombed. He lost everything."

Pepper could see Tony swallow and stare at the floor.

"So there's no connection to the Ten Rings?" Tony asked nervously, looking up again.

"It doesn't look like it," Coulson replied, shaking his head.

Tony took a swig of whiskey and breathed heavily. Pepper could see his inner struggle from the outside as well. The weapon thing kept catching up with him. And Obadiah's actions were catching up with him, too.

"And Agent Shaw? Is he okay? Is he coming back?" Tony asked quietly.

"He was only slightly injured. He'll take a few days off and then rejoin you," Coulson replied, looking at Tony almost a little surprised. "I didn't think you'd grow so fond of some of the men."

"Bennett and Shaw are... okay," Tony said and took a sip of whiskey.

Coulson watched him for a while and gave Pepper a quick, concerned look before turning back to Tony.

"Stark..." he began in a calm voice. "Is this to go on forever? Almost three days of binge drinking and you're sitting here half drunk again?"

Tony fell silent and took another sip instead.

"Are you trying to drink yourself to death here, or how am I supposed to interpret your behavior?"

"You don't have to interpret anything," Tony muttered.

Coulson put his hands in his pockets and took all the time in the world to stare at Tony and make sense of it all. Pepper couldn't tell if he was successful. But she could see that he couldn't get through to Tony either and any hope that might have been left was leaving her body for good. She could already feel the tears stinging her eyes again and fought to push them away.

"Why do you think Director Fury himself dragged his ass over here? To piss you off?" Coulson then continued. "We came because we were horrified by what was in Natasha's report. We came to wake you up. To show you that things can't go on like this. You're throwing it all away. Fury didn't want to put you down, he wanted to make it clear to you: This is as far as it goes. You can't go on like this."

Tony showed no emotion and took another sip of his drink. Pepper could see he had given up. All she could see in Tony's facial expressions and gestures was pure resignation. He had walked into an abyss she would not be able to follow.

"I know you're not well," Coulson tried again in a softer voice. "Not at all. I've read about it in the files, and I can see it for myself. But you keep snatching yourself out of life, and that can't be your only solution... Hey, Stark." Coulson stepped forward and gently shook Tony's shoulder with his hand, who finally looked up at him. Pepper saw his reddened eyes and his struggle for composure. At least Coulson's words hit him now.

"It's too late..." Tony muttered in a trembling voice.

"I'm sure you'll find a way," Coulson said firmly, withdrawing his hand. "I can only advise you to stay out of the public eye completely. For one thing, it's dangerous, and for another, every appearance only fuels further speculation about your alcohol problem. Take some time off, Stark. From everything. Take care of yourself. Try it. You're Iron Man. You made yourself known to the world. For what?"

Tony lowered his eyes again and stared at his feet. "That was a mistake."

"I don't believe that."

"Then don't believe it."

"Okay... well, it's up to you," Coulson sighed and hesitated for a moment, then stepped back. "That being said, I want to apologize to you on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. You were hurt, we reacted too late. It shouldn't have happened."

When Tony didn't respond, Coulson turned to Pepper and gave her a meaningful and sad look. He briefly placed his hand on her shoulder as he passed and pressed his lips together when he saw her teary eyes, but he said goodbye and walked out anyway.

Hesitantly, Pepper approached Tony, who finally looked up at her - with a look on his face as if he already knew what she was going to say to him. She almost couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Tony..." she began softly. "I can't do this anymore."

Tony nodded slightly, as if she had confirmed his fears.

"It's been a painful process," she said, "but in the last few days I've come to the conclusion that I can no longer work for you like this. I've been standing behind you these past few months, trying to take the pressure off you, taking responsibility, protecting and defending you. And don't get me wrong, I loved doing it. I always have. But that led to a serious problem: the fact that you never had to face the consequences for anything. You do what you want, regardless of the consequences. It's others who take the rap for you. And so you don't learn from it because it doesn't hurt you."

Pepper paused briefly to give him a chance to say something, but he looked at her with the same resigned and broken look he had given Coulson.

"It is always the same pattern. You fly off and attack the Ten Rings without consulting anyone. But Phil and Natasha are there afterwards to defend you against the terrorists. You get so drunk in New York that you almost die, but everyone is understanding and all you have to endure is an annoying conversation with a psychiatrist before you can blithely walk away. You get drunk again right after that, but I let myself be softened up and let you get away with it. So you carry on. You know, even S.H.I.E.L.D. is part of the problem in a way. You crash at that club for days, get drunk to the point of total incapacitation - and yes, I saw the clips on the news, Tony, you couldn't have pulled your pants up on your own if you needed to - but it's okay because S.H.I.E.L.D. is there to save you. And here you are again, drunk, and everything is just like before."

"It's not like before," Tony said quietly, reaching for the whiskey bottle and pouring himself another glass. "Nothing's like before..."

Pepper looked at him for a moment. He seemed completely caught up in his own world of pain. To say he was wallowing in self-pity might have been too harsh, but Pepper had the impression that he was suffering so much that he no longer noticed how others around him were feeling.

"I know my problems can't keep up with yours," she said. "The terrible things that were done to you weren't done to me. And I wasn't nearly stabbed yesterday. But - remember when I told you about the board meeting you were supposed to be at? Well, you didn't show up. You let me down again. And once again, I took all the blame. What's more, I defended you. Again and again you put me in embarrassing situations. I suffer the consequences of your actions, I'm looked at skeptically because I don't even know where you are, I'm yelled at because you don't show up. And that makes me part of the problem. I make your life easier. I make it more comfortable for you. And that's not what you need." Pepper took a deep breath and exhaled, then continued. "I know after yesterday this isn't a good time to say this. But I'm quitting, Tony. Because I feel like you need to face the consequences for once. You have to feel the consequences, really feel them. Otherwise, nothing will ever change."

Pepper could see her words cutting through the fog of alcohol and finding their target. Tony put down his glass and looked at her.

"Come on, Pepper..." he started, but she cut him off directly.

"Phrases like 'Come on, Pepper' have never been followed by anything meaningful, Tony."

Tony sighed deeply and rubbed his temples as if trying to get a clear thought. He looked at Pepper, his eyes tired and red. She wanted nothing more than to hug him, comfort him, and tell him that everything would be all right, but that wouldn't help him.

"Pepper," he said, and she felt the desperation in his voice. "I know I went completely off the rails again. I'm sorry for that. But you can't quit. I need you. You... you're the only person who..." He took a deep breath and continued, "I know I put you through too much, and I'm sorry. I really am. But if you go... I don't know what I'll do. I need you here..."

Pepper looked at Tony for a long moment, her eyes full of grief and sadness. She sighed and shook her head slightly. "Will you stop drinking?"

"I can't."

"Then I can't keep working for you."

"Why are you doing this? Without you, I'm... nothing."

"Because I like you, Tony! I like you, and I care about you, and it hurts me to see you do this to yourself. You know, on a professional level, I think I could work for an alcoholic if it's going smoothly. But I've come to realize that there's not just a professional side anymore. Our relationship is also personal. And on a personal level, it hurts too much. I'm hurting every day!"

"Okay. Pepper. Wait!" A jolt seemed to go through him, and he searched desperately for something helpful to say. "What if I change? What if I get myself together? I can drink less again. And I'm sure I can quit eventually."

Pepper stood there, her eyes filled with tears. Excuses. Just excuses. She knew it by now. He didn't mean it, even if Tony himself might have believed it. She fought to keep her composure, but finally she broke down in soft sobs.

"Tony..." Her voice choked as she managed to get the words out. "I wish it was that simple. I wish I could just believe it. But this isn't the first time you've promised me this. And every time it ends the same way. You fall back into your old patterns and I have to put up with it somehow. Do you know what it's like to wake up in the morning and the first thing you read is the headline 'Wasted Tony Stark Stabbed Outside Nightclub'? Do you wonder for a second what that feels like to me? I don't think so, otherwise you would have answered your phone at some point today. I can't do this anymore, Tony. I just can't do this anymore."

"That... I didn't think... I'm sorry..."

Pepper shook her head, her voice trembling. "No more half-baked excuses. My decision has been made. Here is my letter of resignation. I wish you all the best, Tony. I hope you know that." She placed the resignation on the table. "I'm so sorry." And with those words, she turned and left the room, her steps heavy and full of sadness.

When Rhodey entered Tony's house late the next day, he felt his high pulse throbbing uncomfortably in his throat. Pepper had called him sobbing yesterday, but he had already seen the news and his now famous nightclub stay. Rhodey still couldn't understand how Tony could fall so deep into addiction, drinking in secret, getting wasted every day.

He kind of felt guilty because he hadn't been around much. The deployment to Iraq had created a distance between him and Tony. Normally, not seeing each other much wasn't a problem. They had both always traveled a lot and then easily reconnected. But this time it hadn't worked, Tony had avoided him again and hadn't answered the phone.

Obviously, Tony had needed his help. He had watched Tony get drunk without restraint, how bad he had been after Afghanistan, how things had gotten out of hand. And yet Rhodey had misinterpreted some of the clues. Out of ignorance? Out of naivety? He didn't know the answer. All he knew was that he personally hadn't seen this coming.

Rhodey went down to the workshop and was downright appalled. The workshop was partly messy, partly destroyed. It was as if Tony had fired the Repulsor at everything in a fit of rage. There were shards of glass, metal, and scraped objects everywhere. Even two cars looked like total losses. Tony himself was standing next to his desk, apparently working on a new Iron Man glove.

He doesn't look that bad, Rhodey thought involuntarily, looking at Tony's fine dark button-down shirt, his neat haircut, and his practiced hand movements. But when Tony turned to face him, his heart dropped. Tony swayed so violently that he crashed into the desk, knocking over a glass - not that it mattered in this mess. He groaned and held his side for a moment before regaining his balance. Rhodey had to stop himself from helping him. Tony had an injury, but there were more important things to talk about right now.

"What happened here?" Rhodey asked, stunned.

Tony's eyes were glassy, and he only briefly made eye contact while holding onto the desk.

"Been redecorating," Tony said, slurring heavily.

"Tony..." Rhodey couldn't bring himself to continue for a moment. It was just as Pepper had told him. Tony seemed to be wasted, he could barely see straight, let alone stand safely on his feet. He was in an absolutely desolate state.

"Have you also come to tell me how fucked up I am and to abandon me?" Tony asked bitterly.

"I came to pick you up," Rhodey countered, struggling to regain his composure. "Pack some things. I'm taking you to rehab."

Now Tony laughed out loud and looked at him amused. "Sure."

"You need help." Rhodey said. "And I'm here now, Tony. I'm here. So get up, pack a few things, and then we are going to a clinic. Once the alcohol is out of your system, you'll be able to think more clearly, and then I'll be the first to stand by your side and support you through everything that's led up to this point. I will be there for you and I will not let you down. So get up and start packing a bag."

Tony didn't move an inch, but he didn't seem amused anymore.

"Let's go," Rhodey said sternly.

"No," Tony mumbled then. "I'm not going."

"You are going. Even if I have to drag you there."

"Leave me alone, Rhodey. You better go before this gets any more uncomfortable. You and Pepper can go fuck yourselves. I don't need you and I don't give a shit about you. I already have everything I need here and an idiot like you ain't one of it."

Rhodey thought he had misheard him. Tony was many things, but rude and insulting was not one of them. Tony had never spoken to him like that, he had never pushed him away like that. Rhodey could hardly believe that those words had just come out of Tony's mouth and he needed a moment to collect himself.

"Tony..." Rhodey tried again. "You're my best friend. You're my most important person. I'm not going to stand by and watch you kill yourself. Because that's exactly what will happen if you keep doing this. It almost happened before."

"Who cares..."

"I do. Tony, please... don't give up like this. I know it's a lot to ask. To take away the alcohol that obviously gives you so much... But we have to go through this now."

"We?!" Tony's voice was suddenly louder and he glared at Rhodey angrily. "We, you say, huh? What sacrifice do you have to make? You don't know the hell I live in when I'm sober."

"Tony... By 'we' I mean I'm not leaving you to deal with this alone. I'm going to help you."

"You all still don't get it, do you? I don't want your fucking help!"

Now Rhodey could well relate to Pepper's feeling of helplessness. It was despairing. And Rhodey began to doubt that he could convince Tony to come with him. Besides, could rehab be successful if Tony didn't want it in the first place? Wasn't the most important step of all that the alcoholic wanted to stop drinking? Almost paralyzed, Rhodey looked at Tony, but then a jolt went through him. He had to at least try.

"Fine... I'll pack the bag for you," he said more to himself and headed for the stairs. "You can get your ass upstairs in the meantime."

But as Rhodey reached the door, a glass shattered loudly right next to his head. Startled, he turned around just in time to see Tony slowly lowering his outstretched arm. He had indeed thrown a glass at him. Whether Tony meant to hit him or not, Rhodey was pissed.

"I'm going to let you get away with this because you're a mess. I want to see you upstairs in ten minutes."

For a moment Rhodey had the hopeful thought that Tony would go with him now, but the next moment Tony grabbed another glass from the desk and threw it at him as well. This time he was more accurate. Rhodey was able to raise his arms not a moment too soon before the glass could hit him.

"Fuck off!" Tony yelled angrily, then approached him. "You act like you're so important. Like this is important. You should have left me in the desert!" He grabbed the stunned Rhodey by the collar. "You should have crashed your damn helicopter there yourself!"

"That's enough!" Rhodey shouted himself now, roughly pushing Tony off him, who had no chance to keep his balance and landed on his back in a pile of scrap metal. Rhodey tried to keep his own anger under control as he looked down anxiously at Tony, who was holding his side with a contorted face.

He could guess what Tony was doing. It wasn't true that this meant nothing to Tony, that he didn't care about Pepper or him, that he didn't want to be rescued from the desert. Tony tried to push him away - so he could keep drinking without anyone complaining. So he wouldn't have to be patronized by a bunch of doctors and therapists in a hospital and face the feelings he was suppressing by drinking. And yet Rhodey's heart was breaking.

"You're not getting rid of me that way. I'm taking you there. Today."

"Yeah, it really is enough," Tony confirmed, then pulled himself up by the desk and grabbed his Iron Man glove, which he put on awkwardly. "If you don't get out of here right now, I'm going to seriously hurt you."

"What?!"

Would Tony really go that far? Rhodey couldn't imagine it, but he could feel the fear rising in him. Tony was completely out of it. Did he even know what he was doing anymore?

"I'm serious," Tony said, raising his hand.

"Tony..." Rhodey tried one last time. "You may not realize this right now. But I'm your last hope. Trust me on that. If I leave, that's it. Pepper won't come back for you. Why don't you just take my hand?"

In response, the repulsor charged threateningly. Even though he didn't think Tony would do that, Rhodey didn't want to risk getting hit by it. "Okay, okay," he said soothingly, holding up his hands. "I'll go..."

Rhodey knew when a battle was lost. As bitter as it was. As terrible as it was. He felt the loss with a vengeance. Tony was out of reach. Rhodey was too late. He turned and headed for the exit, not looking back. He felt his eyes burning and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.