Chapter 24

Pepper awoke from a fitful sleep. For a moment she didn't know where she was, then she remembered the day before and recognized Tony's guest room. It was almost seven in the morning, her usual time to get up anyway. So Pepper jumped out of bed and put on some - by her standards - more comfortable clothes, which really just meant not putting on her high heels. With a sleepy yawn, Pepper walked out of the guest room and into the kitchen. Then she put on some coffee and waited.

"Jarvis?" she asked. "Status on Tony?"

"Good morning, Miss Potts," Jarvis replied. "Mr. Stark has been awake since 3 a.m. He is currently in the bathroom on this floor, showing symptoms of fever and severe vomiting, which is causing him to slowly dehydrate."

Pepper felt a twinge somewhere in her heart area, but quickly regained her composure. This was to be expected, she told herself. Leaving the coffee where it was, Pepper walked with an uneasy feeling to the bathroom. There she knocked gently and then opened the door.

Tony seemed to be in a miserable condition. He was drenched in sweat and his hair stuck flat to his head. His skin color was grayish white and even his lips had lost all color. Tony's eyes were bloodshot and swimming in water as he gave her a quick look before turning to the toilet and vomiting with a violent gag. But more than a little saliva didn't seem to make its way out of his mouth. Still, the whole spectacle went on for several minutes, during which Pepper couldn't help but watch him speechlessly.

"Oh God, Tony..." she whispered more to herself than to him and finally approached him.

She crouched down next to Tony and touched his back.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"If I'm okay?!" Tony yelled, extremely irritated. "Yeah! I'm great, as you can see!"

Pepper pulled her hand back, trying not to take it personally that he was snapping at her like that. The fact that he was irritable was probably one of the symptoms. Still, she couldn't help but look at him with raised eyebrows.

"Sorry..." Tony said more quietly. "Didn't mean to yell at you."

"It's okay," Pepper replied. "Admittedly, it was a stupid question."

She noticed that Tony's body seemed to be downright shaking and he was breathing heavily, as if he'd been on a strenuous run.

"Jarvis says you have a fever," she said.

"Jarvis is a real gossip..." Tony replied curtly.

Then he closed his eyes and looked as if he was concentrating on not throwing up again. Pepper waited patiently.

"I might have," he finally said. "I'm cold."

"I'll get you a blanket. And water."

Pepper hurried, then held a glass of water out to Tony. He grimaced and shook his head.

"Oh, yes, you have to drink something. And it has to be more than what is coming out," Pepper said firmly.

Reluctantly, Tony took the glass, but he was shaking so badly that he spilled some of the water. He cursed indignantly and scowled at Pepper as if it was her fault, but then raised the glass to his lips and took several small sips. Meanwhile, Pepper pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

"You could have woken me," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub next to him.

"What for? So you could watch me puke?" Tony asked grimly, setting the glass down on the floor. "You have a weird fetish."

Pepper ignored his last remark. "No, to stand by you."

Tony waved her off. "No need. Nothing exciting is happening here."

He spoke loudly and angrily, but Pepper was struck by how weak he looked. His eyes were shining feverishly, and he seemed to have trouble keeping himself upright at all.

"Stop staring at me!" Tony grumbled even more.

"Tony..." Pepper said sympathetically.

But Tony made a face at that moment and turned to the toilet. The water he had just swallowed ended up in the toilet through several rounds of vomiting. Tony gasped and coughed, and his face now took on a greenish hue. After a few minutes, Pepper began to worry. He still hadn't stopped vomiting. Or, well, he had, but he had started to dry heave instead. She could see that he was getting weaker and weaker with each spasm of his stomach. It got to the point where Pepper had to help hold him up in front of the toilet. Then Tony coughed a few times and fell silent. His breath came out really fast, as if he hadn't managed to get a single breath in since he started getting sick. Pepper let go of him, but stayed close, just in case.

"Thanks for the glass of water," Tony said when he was able to breathe again, sounding as sarcastic as possible.

Pepper remained calm. She left it for now, sitting quietly with him, thinking that she would probably worry more when he stopped snapping around.

As the hours passed, Tony's condition continued to deteriorate. His body was in open revolt, rejecting the abrupt absence of alcohol with unrelenting violence. Each bout of vomiting made him weaker, his strength ebbing away like the tide. The nausea was constant, a gnawing, burning ache that never subsided.

Pepper watched with growing alarm, her heart breaking as Tony convulsed again over the toilet.

"Tony, you have to try and drink some water," she urged, her voice calm but full of concern. "You're going to dehydrate at this rate."

Tony could barely lift his head, his face pale and drawn.

"I can't," he rasped, his throat raw from the constant heaving. "It just comes back up."

"Please, just a small sip," Pepper pleaded, holding the glass to his lips.

He complied, taking a tiny sip, but almost immediately his stomach rebelled and he gagged again, his body shaking with the effort. Pepper rubbed his back, feeling completely helpless.

She was afraid. She had prepared herself mentally, but she had to admit that she had not expected this. How much did he have to drink every day for the withdrawal to be so bad now? And she wasn't sure she was good at judging what was within the "normal" range of withdrawal symptoms and what definitely needed medical attention. Tony began to slur his words and his gaze became more and more glassy. Pepper felt overwhelmed when Tony refused to drink any more water and puked his guts out. And what fluid he didn't lose through his stomach, he sweated out.

We can't do this alone, Pepper thought. She was so scared. She suddenly realized the responsibility she had. Tony had, in a sense, entrusted his life to her. Then, she thought, he would have to live with one decision or another that she made.

"Tony?" she asked carefully. "I'm going to call Rhodey, okay?"

Tony didn't answer at first, his eyes fixed on an unidentified spot somewhere on the wall in front of him. Then he murmured a faint "okay".

As relieved as she was to hear that, his "okay" also made her uneasy. How bad did he have to be to allow her to make this call without protest? She walked outside to the kitchen and dialed Rhodey's number on her phone.

"Pepper, what's up?" Rhodey's voice rang out.

"Rhodey, hi," Pepper said, deciding to just drop it. "It's about Tony."

"Oh..."

Pepper bit her lip. Was it ever about anyone else?

"Before you say anything. Tony stopped drinking," Pepper said.

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Rhodey?"

"Um... okay? When?" Rhodey said, sounding a bit distracted.

"Well... yesterday, actually."

A short snort escaped Rhodey, and Pepper got a little annoyed at how dismissive he was.

"Tony quit, so that's a good thing," she said coolly.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, you're right, it is a good thing. It's just... I'm still really pissed... what he said to me... what he did..."

Pepper knew about the last time Rhodey had visited Tony and where he had tried to get him into rehab. Without success, but with an unpleasant ending.

"Yes... But Rhodey - he's sick. Tony is sick."

"I know that, but that doesn't excuse -"

"He needs our help."

She could hear Rhodey sighing on the other end of the line. "All right. What can I do? Where is he doing it, is he already in a rehab center, or do you want me to pick him up?"

"That's why I'm calling you. We're doing this here at his house. No rehab."

"Pepper..."

"Yes, I get what you're about to say, but -"

"You know he should be in a hospital? From what I saw, he was drinking heavily. You're putting yourself in a bad position."

He still sounded restrained, but there was a hint of concern in his tone. Pepper poured herself a cup of coffee - cold by now, of course - and took a generous sip. Then she took a deep breath.

"Can you come over?"

"Pepper..."

"Rhodey, please. I don't know what to do. And I'm scared."

"..."

"He needs our help. And I need your help. Rhodey, please."

There was silence at the other end of the line, and Pepper waited anxiously. Uncertain, she lowered her cup and listened to the silence. Then Rhodey finally spoke.

"All right, I'm coming."

Hours passed, each one seeming like an eternity. The nausea never let up, and Tony often found himself on the bathroom floor, his body racked with dry heaves when there was nothing left to bring up. Pepper stayed by his side, her presence the only thing keeping him alive.

"You're doing great," she whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "Just hold on a little longer."

Tony tried to concentrate on her words, but the pain was all-consuming. He felt trapped in his own personal hell, every second a battle to keep from drowning in the waves of agony that washed over him. He was too weak to stand. The nausea was relentless, each dry heave a new agony. It brought Tony to the brink of despair. He felt as if he would collapse at any moment.

"Pepper... I don't think I can do this..."

He was feverish and finding it increasingly difficult to focus on anything in his field of vision. Instead, his eyes were darting around aimlessly. He was still sweating profusely, only relieved by the occasional cold shiver.

"I know you can do this," he heard Pepper say.

But Tony wasn't sure. He would have preferred to give up. He knew full well, one decent drink - and this horrible feeling would be over.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," he said in a blur. "Maybe I'd better cut back on the drinking for a while before I quit altogether."

"Tony..." Pepper said calmly, dabbing the sweat from his face with a towel.

"I can't do this."

"Yes, you can."

Everything hurt, every muscle and bone in his body ached. He would have preferred to lie down. But he also wanted to stay here in front of the toilet, even if the best that could come out of it was a little gastric juice.

"Miss Potts," Jarvis then spoke up. "Colonel Rhodes has just arrived."

"Good, send him right over."

"Of course."

A moment later, Rhodey entered the room. When he saw Tony, he immediately rushed over and knelt down beside him.

"Jesus, Tony," Rhodey said worriedly, putting a hand on his back.

"Hey, Rhodes," Tony said weakly, forcing a smile.

"You look terrible."

"I feel worse than I look..."

Tony felt embarrassed, but the feeling was short-lived. He had much bigger problems at the moment.

"Pepper, what happened?" Rhodey asked in her direction.

"Like I said. He's trying to go cold turkey," Pepper explained, tears in her eyes. "He refused to go to a hospital, and now... now he's like this."

Rhodey turned back to Tony and looked at him in alarm. "Tony, you idiot. You should have listened. This is too much for you to handle alone."

"I... I have to do this," Tony murmured, his voice barely audible. "I have to... I have to get better."

Rhodey shook his head and looked up at Pepper again. "He needs medical attention. This isn't safe."

"I know," Pepper said, her voice shaking. "But he won't go."

"For God's sake... How long has it been since your last drink?" Rhodey asked.

"Too long," Tony said.

"Thirty-seven hours," Jarvis answered the question.

"You know that it could get even worse then?" Rhodey said.

"Can't get any worse," Tony muttered.

"Yes, it can. And it probably will."

Tony listened with only half an ear. His stomach did a flip and he quickly tried to bend over the bowl. Rhodey grabbed his shoulders and gently guided him into place. Again, he regurgitated what felt like half of his stomach as Rhodey continued to hold him upright.

"You're not drinking enough water," Rhodey noted. "You have nothing in your stomach."

A chill went through Tony and he leaned back, gasping loudly.

"He refuses everything," Pepper said.

"You've got to drink water, Tony. Otherwise, there's no point to any of this. If you get dehydrated, it's over," Rhodey said and sighed. "Okay... let's get you into bed for now, so you can lie down for a while. You can't even sit up straight anymore. And you need to drink something. Preferably something sugary."

"There's nothing staying in anyway," Tony explained.

"But better to have something in your stomach to throw up than just this dry heaving, right?"

Tony didn't answer. He didn't care about anything; he just wanted this all to stop. Rhodey beckoned Pepper over and together they helped him to his feet. They each took an arm and slung it over their shoulders. Tony felt so weak that he could barely take a step forward. But the two of them helped him up the stairs, carrying most of his weight. It still felt like he was running a marathon.

Once in the bedroom, they laid Tony on the bed. Pepper got a bucket and put it next to the bed while Rhodey went downstairs to get something to drink.

"Cold," Tony muttered, shivering.

Pepper covered him with a blanket. Lying down brought some relief, but the pain in his limbs was just as bad. Rhodey handed him an open bottle.

"Drink this."

Tony suddenly felt insanely thirsty and drank eagerly from the bottle. It tasted sweet.

"Slowly," Rhodey warned him. "Not too much at once."

So he tried to take small sips of the sugary drink until he finished the whole bottle. Then he just lay there for a while. He had been in total agony for hours now. Was being an alcoholic really worse than this? Just when he thought his stomach had calmed down a bit, it taught him otherwise.

"...have to...throw up..."

Rhodey quickly pulled him into an upright position and then, with great difficulty, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Pepper held the bucket out to him. Immediately, Tony threw up all the fluids he had been drinking so laboriously in small sips over the last hour. When he was done, he was so exhausted that he felt the urge to just cry.

As Tony wiped his mouth with a shaking hand, a devastating realization dawned on him: he could not make it through this. The withdrawal symptoms were so much more severe than he had expected, and the pain and discomfort were unrelenting. His mind began to spiral with thoughts of failure and hopelessness.

"I can't do this," he said, his voice cracking with fear. "I can't... I won't make it."

The room seemed to close in around him, the walls coming closer with each ragged breath he took. As Tony's stomach churned and the room spun, a crushing wave of panic began to rise within him. He felt trapped, overwhelmed by the relentless onslaught of withdrawal symptoms. The thought of enduring one more moment of this agony was unbearable. Rhodey and Pepper stood beside him, their faces etched with concern and helplessness.

"You're doing good, Tony," Rhodey said calmly. "It's tough, we see that. But you'll get through this."

However, Tony's mind was spiraling out of control. His breathing quickened, each inhale a desperate gasp for air. Panic gripped him like a vice, squeezing the air from his lungs.

"I can't breathe," he choked out, clutching his chest. "I can't..."

It was as if someone had turned off the sound. The panic made its way through his entire body, creeping up his neck and gripping it like an iron fist. It crept up to his fingertips and made him shudder. Tony leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. Both Rhodey and Pepper seemed to have noticed what was happening right away. Rhodey squatted down in front of him to be at eye level.

"Easy, Tony..." he said in a calm voice. "Everything's fine. Try to calm down..."

"I... I can't... breathe..."

Thousands of tiny pinpricks spread all over his body, his arms tingling and numb at the same time. Tony's mind raced, a chaotic mess of terror and hopelessness. The room seemed to spin faster, the edges of his vision darkening. Rhodey placed his hands on Tony's knees.

"Slow down, Tony... try to focus on your breathing."

"I can't..." Tony gasped.

He noticed that Pepper sat down close beside him on the bed, putting her hand on his back and rubbing small circles.

"I'm not going to make it," Tony said, his voice breaking. "I can't do this..."

"Tony, breathe," Rhodey said, his voice firm but gentle. "In and out, slowly. Just breathe."

Tony tried to follow Rhodey's instructions, but his body refused to cooperate. His breaths came in short, shallow gasps, his heart pounding erratically. The panic had taken over, and he felt powerless to fight it.

"Look at me," Rhodey instructed, squeezing Tony's knees to make him comply. "You're going to be fine. You're having a panic attack and it'll pass. We will wait together. You're not alone in this. We are both here with you."

Tony lowered his hands and looked at his friend, focusing all his energy on Rhodey's words. Slowly, painfully, he tried to breathe, each inhale and exhale a monumental effort. After minutes, the room began to come into focus again, the walls no longer closing in around him. The grip of panic loosened, though the fear still lingered, a dark shadow in the corners of his mind. He looked at Pepper and Rhodey, their faces filled with unwavering support.

"I'm scared," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

"We know," Pepper said quietly, squeezing his hand. "But you're not alone. We'll get through this together."

Rhodey nodded, his expression resolute.

"We're here, Tony. We're here for you."

Tony took another shaky breath, the panic slowly fading. Tony felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he fought them back, not wanting to cry in front of them. Still, Rhodey and Pepper sat with him and talked him through it. When the panic was completely gone, the last bit of strength seemed to be leaving his body. Everything hurt. He could no longer hold himself upright and collapsed against Pepper, who caught him. Then they helped him back into bed and tucked him in. Tony was so exhausted that he dozed off immediately.

Pepper looked down at Tony with a worried expression. Everything seemed so much worse than she had feared. She was sure that even Tony had not expected this intensity. But what almost scared her the most was that this wasn't Tony Stark anymore. Whoever was lying there on the bed, sweating, shaking, and suffering, it couldn't be him. Pepper's world felt upside down.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked Rhodey.

"Sure," Rhodey replied, glancing at the dozing Tony.

Pepper left the room, followed by Rhodey who closed the door behind him.

"This is a disaster!" Pepper cried out, finally letting her emotions run free.

She had wanted to control herself in front of Tony, as he certainly didn't need a hysterical Pepper at this point, but now she needed a moment herself. Pepper's composure broke, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold everything together.

"I'm scared, Rhodey. Seeing Tony like this... it's tearing me apart. I thought I was strong enough, but... I don't know if I can handle it."

"Woah. Now slow down, Pepper," Rhodey said, raising his arms placatingly. "You knew what you were getting into, didn't you?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, running her hands over her face several times. "No! I mean, yes! But - my God! Didn't you see him?! It's horrible!"

"Pepper, calm down."

In fact, now it seemed to be her turn for panic. "I think I have reached my breaking point. This is too much." She felt tears well up in her eyes and held her hand to her chest.

"I love him," she said quietly, a few tears running down her cheeks. "That's the problem, Rhodey. I love him and it hurts so much."

Rhodey blinked, clearly taken aback by her confession. "You love him?" he repeated, surprise evident in his tone.

When Pepper nodded, he walked over to her and just took her in his arms. They stood together in silence for a while, until Pepper was actually able to calm down a bit. The Colonel's strong arms gave her the comfort and reassurance she needed right now to get through this.

"Thank you..." she said after a while, pulling away from him.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked concerned, keeping his hand on her arm.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean... such an outburst..."

"It's okay, Pepper."

"What I said about... that I love..."

"You don't have to explain it to me now. Besides, when I think about it, it doesn't really come as a surprise."

"Yeah... It's just..." she mumbled, unable to finish the sentence.

"I know…"

"Maybe we should have been there for him more... We just let him do it..."

"But you were there, weren't you?" Rhodey pointed out calmly. "And you tried to talk to him over and over again. No, Pepper... it's not our fault. Nor is it our responsibility."

"Maybe you're right," Pepper said, a few more tears streaming down her cheeks. "But…"

"Tony pushed us away. All of us. We were there all the time, we kept coming to him, trying to talk to him. Especially you. And every damn time he pushed us away. It had to come to this," Rhodey concluded glumly.

"I'm just so scared. Even if he gets through the withdrawal - he's still traumatized. It might even get worse."

"It might, yes. But that is not what we should focus on right now. One step at a time."

Pepper looked at Rhodey and smiled slightly. "Thank you for coming... despite your anger... thank you."

"No, thank you, Pepper, for reminding me that this is still my best friend."

They were silent for a moment, watching the sun sink below the horizon. The second day came to an end. Then suddenly it was Jarvis who pulled them out of their thoughts.

"My scan shows that Mr. Stark's condition is worsening. I recommend you intervene quickly."

Pepper and Rhodey stared at each other, startled, then hurried back into the bedroom.