Chapter 27

The effects of the Valium wore off. As a result, all of the discomfort became very palpable again. Tony's body ached and his mind was poisoned with fear.

You're doing good, Tony. You can do it, Stark. Just hold on a few more days. It will be better in a few hours.

Empty words. Phrases. Meaning nothing.

God, it hurts so much... I need alcohol. I need a fucking drink.

He didn't say it out loud anymore. They wouldn't let him get away with it. They didn't understand. Ignorant assholes. He was in agony and they just stood around and watched. Didn't they realize it was impossible? He had gone too far with the drinking. Was that so hard to understand? He fucked up. It was too late.

Fuck, I need a drink...

Pepper dabbed at his forehead and neck with a wet cloth. Just the touch hurt his skin. Please just fuck off. He didn't even want Pepper around anymore. He wanted her gone. He wanted everyone in the world to go away.

I don't want any more of this. Just one drink. Please just one drink. My head hurts. I feel sick. Please make it stop.

"I need another Valium," Tony murmured through glassy eyes.

"You just had one three hours ago. You're not supposed to take that many," Pepper explained gently.

"I need one now."

"Soon."

Fuck you.

Tony slipped from one anxiety attack to the next. He lay stiffly on the bed, his hands clenched into fists. He held his breath and closed his eyes so no one would know what was going on inside him. He was so tired of them telling him how good he was doing. No, he was not!

Panic flooded through him, passing him like a train passing a subway station. The train left, but the next one was sure to come.

Tony was alone. He forced himself to get up. The floor beneath his feet felt wobbly and as if it was going to give way as soon as he took a couple of steps. Tony stretched his hands out a little to his sides to keep his balance and brace himself in case he fell. He felt so damn weak. With unsteady steps he made his way to his closet and slipped into a pair of sneakers. It took a while, and then he had to pause for breath. His head was spinning.

Tony walked to the door, pausing when a wave of nausea hit him. Waited. Breathed. Walked cautiously down the stairs. Carefully, slowly, quietly.

By now the nausea seemed to be drilled into his bones and stuck there, making him lethargic, powerless and desperate. Tony felt like a shadow of his former self. He was falling apart. Disconnected from life. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Except one thing.

He moved down the stairs in slow motion. The coast was clear. The others didn't seem to be in the living room. Voices from the kitchen. They thought he was asleep.

Tony grabbed the railing and took another deep breath before taking the next flight of stairs. Down into the workshop. There was a dangerous flicker in front of his eyes. He stopped again. Waited. Breathed. Walked on.

The R8 was closest. Tony lowered himself behind the wheel and started the engine.

Rhodey was in the kitchen with Pepper and Coulson when Shaw and Bennett suddenly burst in. Their urgent expressions immediately caught everyone's attention.

"The Audi R8 just left the premises," Bennett announced, slightly out of breath.

Rhodey felt his heart skip a beat. "Fuck," he muttered as he realized what that meant.

"But where did he go?" Pepper said in a high voice. "He can't have..."

"... left to get drunk?" Rhodey finished the sentence. Without wasting a second, he turned to Coulson. "We need to follow him now."

"Agreed. Bennett, Shaw, you follow in a separate car. Colonel, you come with me," Coulson ordered, already on his way to the workshop.

"Jarvis, where is he?" Pepper asked anxiously, following the others.

"I'm sorry, Miss Potts. I don't have clearance for any information," Jarvis replied.

"Damn it, Jarvis! Override, 7σHR2α - emergency program!"

"Accepted, Miss Potts. I have limited access to his location. Mr. Stark is heading east on the highway."

Rhodey balled his hands into fists. Shit, Tony, what are you doing?

"He can't be far, we came right in," Bennett said quickly.

The small group went into the shop.

"Pepper, you stay here," Coulson said, getting behind the wheel of Tony's Tesla Roadster. "In case he comes back."

Pepper looked a little contrite, but there was no time to argue now. Rhodey quickly took a seat next to Coulson, then the car began to move.

As they drove, Rhodey's mind raced with worry. Tony's withdrawal symptoms were severe and driving in his condition was a recipe for disaster. The fear of what could happen if they didn't reach him in time was eating away at him.

Go back.

Get alcohol.

Go back.

Get alcohol.

Pepper... She'll never forgive you, she'll give you up for good.

She has to accept it. I'm done.

I'm gonna hurt her so bad.

She'll get over it.

Go back and apologize.

Keep driving to the next bar.

Tony's vision blurred as he sped down the highway. The lines on the road seemed to shift and move, making it difficult to keep the car steady. His hands shook on the wheel and the nausea was relentless. Every breath felt like a struggle, and his head pounded with a mixture of pain and confusion.

He barely registered the passing scenery, his focus narrowing to the simple task of keeping the car on the road. But it was getting harder and harder. As the dizziness increased, Tony felt he couldn't keep going. He noticed a gas station ahead and managed to pull over.

I need to get back.

I need a drink.

Tony dragged himself into the gas station and headed straight for the liquor. He reached blindly into one of the shelves and then staggered to the cash register. The clerk looked at him suspiciously, but scanned the bottle.

"Everything all right, sir?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sure," Tony choked out, holding on to the register. He didn't want to know what he looked like.

"Nine dollars and ninety cents."

Oh great, cheap booze... whatever.

"Keep the change," Tony muttered, pulling a ten-dollar bill out of his back pocket. Then he grabbed the bottle and headed out. Tony walked around the house, tripped, and fell to the ground. He sat up and stared at the bottle. It was whiskey. Wonderful.

Rhodey and Coulson followed the highway, pushing the car to its limits. Jarvis could give them directions, but he wasn't allowed to tell them Tony's exact location.

"Wait, what was that?" Rhodey asked as they passed a gas station and he saw a white car out of the corner of his eye. "That might be his car in the parking lot. We have to get back!"

It had been too fast to get a closer look, but Rhodey clung to what he thought he saw. Coulson slammed on the brakes, turned around, and slowly backed up as Shaw and Bennett passed them, signaling to keep going in that direction.

Rhodey looked out the windshield. Clearly a white Audi R8 in the parking lot. Tony's R8. Coulson pulled up beside the car, they both got out and peered through the windows. No sign of him.

"Come on, Tony, where are you? What are you doing?" Rhodey muttered nervously.

They hurried into the gas station. Except for the clerk, no one was inside.

"Did you just see Tony Stark in here?" Coulson called out to him.

"Tony... Stark? Uh, no..."

"Are you sure?" Coulson asked, holding up his S.H.I.E.L.D. badge briefly, too briefly for the employee to take a closer look. "Police investigation."

"Oh. Yeah, I'm sure. The only one who's come in here in the last few hours was some bum or vagrant. Looked pretty bad. Bought some hard stuff and took off."

They immediately ran back outside and scanned the parking lot. Still no sign of Tony. Where did he go? Rhodey ran around the house. And there he was. Tony was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall - a bottle of whiskey next to him.

"Stark, no..." Coulson groaned as he stepped up next to Rhodey, both shocked at the sight.

Then they rushed over to Tony and crouched in front of him. Rhodey searched his friend's face for any signs of drunkenness.

"Tony, what the hell are you doing?" Rhodey asked, concern in his voice.

"I'm sorry... so sorry," Tony muttered without looking up.

"Have you been drinking?" Coulson asked him forcefully, shaking his arm slightly, but Tony didn't answer right away. "Have you been drinking?! Stark? Tony!"

Tony looked up at them, his eyes red but not glazed over. He was clearly struggling, but he didn't seem drunk.

"I haven't," he said, his voice hoarse and strained. He gestured weakly at the bottle. "I wanted to... I wanted to so much, but... I haven't."

Rhodey let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Okay, Tony, that's good. That's really good," he said, trying to keep his tone calm and reassuring. He looked down at the bottle, then back at Tony. "Man... Don't do that again, you hear me?"

He couldn't even be angry right now, too relieved that Tony wasn't drunk. Rhodey put a hand on Tony's knee.

"Let's get you back to the house, buddy. You need to rest and we need to keep an eye on you... you stupid ass."

Tony looked at him nervously, but Rhodey smiled to signal that he didn't mean those last words.

"Yeah... let's... sorry," Tony mumbled again, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world rested on them.

Coulson helped Tony to his feet, steadying him as they walked back to the car. Rhodey grabbed the whiskey bottle and threw it into a nearby trash can, glad to see it hadn't even been opened.

As they drove back, Tony sat quietly in the backseat next to Rhodey, staring out the window, shaking again. Both Rhodey and Coulson exchanged worried glances, knowing that while this crisis had been averted, the battle was far from over.

Pepper waited downstairs in the workshop. Her nerves were frayed. She shouldn't have let Tony out of her sight. Coulson had called twenty minutes ago to say they had found him. Which was a relief - but still, he could have easily been drunk if they hadn't found him so quickly.

Then finally - the car rolled up and stopped at its usual spot. Coulson got out and held up his thumb. The back door opened and Tony got out as well. Or at least tried to. He held on to the car door, inches away from slipping to the ground. Pepper ran toward him, catching him just in time.

"Pepper..." he mumbled through teary eyes. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I shouldn't have done that."

"Tony..."

"I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I drove away."

"Tony."

"Please forgive me. I… I can't think straight anymore. I'm so sorry."

"Tony!"

Pepper forced him to look into her eyes as she continued to hold him.

"Tony, just listen to me," she said softly. "I'm not angry with you. I see how hard it is. You haven't been drinking, and that's all that matters. Okay?"

Tony nodded and then threw himself into Pepper's arms. Pepper was too weak to support his body weight, so they sank to the floor together. She held Tony tightly and stroked his back.

Even though he seemed to be a different man, and even though he didn't smell like the beguiling scent she used to know him by, she could still sense that Tony was there. Locked away or buried somewhere. But he was still there, she just wanted to believe it.

Tony seemed to calm down in her arms and his muscle tone dropped a bit. Pepper brushed the damp hair from his forehead and then stroked his cheek. He felt hot again.

"You need to rest," Pepper said in a low voice. "I'm with you. We can do this - together."

"Together," Tony repeated, giving Pepper's arm a quick squeeze.

Rhodey came to her side and signaled to help her. Together they supported Tony into the living room and onto the couch. There he curled up and held his stomach.

"I'll get you some water," Pepper said.

She turned away, but Tony grabbed her hand. Surprised, she turned to face him again.

"Don't go," he murmured. "Stay with me."

Pepper joined him on the couch, still holding his hand.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Tony's still asleep," Pepper said, stepping into the kitchen to join Rhodey and Coulson. "Shaw's keeping an eye on him."

"It'll do him good," Rhodey nodded.

He was at the stove preparing a pasta dish. With a smile, he noted that the only one who ever used the stove in Tony's house was the cook. It felt strange to be preparing a meal for the others in this kitchen.

"I hope things will be much better now. After all, it's been five days," he said as he chopped up a few tomatoes.

Coulson stood leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, watching Rhodey.

"He should be out of the woods. For now," Coulson said.

Yes, for now. Rhodey knew this was far from over. Pepper sat down in a chair and scratched her head. She had been able to catch up on some sleep, but she still looked dead tired after the last few grueling days.

"I kind of blame myself," Rhodey said, feeling the fatigue himself. "I should have realized what was happening when he came back from Afghanistan."

"What do you mean?" Coulson asked interestedly.

"I mean there were enough signs. Over the years."

Rhodey took three plates from the kitchen cupboard, filled them with pasta and a fragrant tomato sauce, and set plates for all three of them. Coulson joined them at the table with some reluctance, and the three began to eat.

"So?" Coulson asked expectantly. "What exactly do you mean by 'over the years', Rhodes?"

Rhodey finished chewing his bite and put down his fork, wondering if he was allowed to share this information.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Tony's parents died when he was 21?" Rhodey began, addressing mostly Pepper. "Tony was still figuring things out, young and reckless - and suddenly everything changed."

"No, you didn't," Pepper said, shaking her head. "But I've heard bits and pieces. It must have been devastating for him."

"Yes, it was. The accident took both of his parents suddenly, and Tony was left to deal with the aftermath. He wasn't ready to take over Stark Industries, not emotionally, so Obadiah stepped in. He really took Tony under his wing. In a way, Obadiah became a surrogate father figure during that time."

Pepper and Coulson listened intently, the warm light of the room casting soft shadows on their faces.

"I knew Tony was having a hard time with their deaths," Pepper said slowly. "They were the last family members he had. But I never realized Obadiah was so involved until he told me months ago after Raza broke into his house. Hard to believe after what he did to Tony."

"I agree," Coulson said. "Stane seems to have been a different person back then."

"He was. And of course, he was also dealing with the loss of his friend Howard," Rhodey said thoughtfully. "He'd often just be there, a steady presence. He didn't push Tony to talk about his feelings. Instead, he focused on keeping Tony busy. He'd take him to meetings, involve him in projects, anything to keep his mind off stupid things. But Tony was grieving - well, in his own way - and he was starting to use alcohol as a crutch. Obadiah tried to steer Tony away from excessive drinking, and he tried to do it discreetly. It was subtle, but Tony knew. He'd act out sometimes, test Obadiah's patience. It was his way of dealing with the pain, I guess."

"Sounds like a balancing act," Coulson interjected. "Keeping Tony from spiraling out of control while giving him space to grieve."

"Yeah, exactly," Rhodey agreed. "Obadiah never pushed too hard. He knew Tony had to find his own way, but he also sensed how easily Tony could go off the rails. So he walked that fine line - supportive but not overbearing, present but not intrusive. It was... complicated."

"Well, it's always complicated with Tony," Pepper said with a hint of a smirk. "Going through all that probably shaped him a lot."

"It did," Rhodey confirmed. "He already had a lot of issues with control and trust because of his relationship with his father. Obadiah was probably the first person to really see Tony's vulnerabilities, and while he tried to help, it also made Tony build up walls. Walls that, unfortunately, took a long time to even start breaking down. Obadiah would send him on business trips to keep him distracted. But it was a band-aid solution. The root of the problem was never addressed."

"So, he was already leaning toward alcohol at that point. You mean to say that?" Pepper asked.

"At least it was his solution to some problems," Rhodey replied.

As they continued to eat, Rhodey remembered another story. He took a deep breath and looked at Pepper and Coulson.

"One time stands out," he began, "It was right before Tony was supposed to take over Stark Industries as CEO. But that caused Tony to struggle even more, and Obadiah decided to take him on a business trip to Europe. The idea was to get him out of his environment, give him a change of scenery, and show him that he was capable of doing business. I traveled with them, which I did a lot at the time, because as a friend of Tony's, I became sort of a liaison between Stark Industries and the military."

Pepper leaned forward, listening intently. "What happened?"

"It was during a big presentation for investors," Rhodey sighed. "We were in Paris, supposed to be at this big tech expo. Tony was already on edge, and it was obvious he was struggling. Sharing a hotel room with him, I saw that he had been drinking since the morning, and by the time we got to the event, he was barely coherent. Obadiah noticed, quickly stepped in and took over the presentation without missing a beat. As the night wore on, Tony got worse. He made a scene, embarrassing himself and Stark Industries. Obadiah tried to keep it professional, but at some point he set clear boundaries for Tony. Which, as we all know, Tony does not take well. I had a bad feeling, went looking for him, and found him on the rooftop of the building, standing near the ledge. For a moment I thought he might do something drastic, but it could have been my imagination. Before I had time to react, a hand was on my shoulder and Obadiah walked past me, signaling that he would take care of it.

Now Coulson leaned forward as well. "And how did he do that?"

"He casually walked over to Tony, stood next to him and looked out over the city. He told Tony that he understood the pain and the pressure, but drowning it in alcohol wouldn't make it go away. He talked about responsibility, about how much Tony was needed, and that he believed in his potential. Then Tony broke down," Rhodey said softly. "He started crying, and Obadiah just hugged him and let him get it all out. Tony kept saying he wasn't ready, that he couldn't live up to his father's expectations. They stayed up there for hours, talking about everything - life, the company, Tony's parents. Something changed in Tony that night. He didn't stop drinking, as we all know, but he cut back - and I think he became better at hiding it. Tony found his way back into life and was also well advised by Obadiah regarding the company, which he eventually took over. Well, it went uphill, Tony made a career, we know what happened next."

"So people didn't notice?" Pepper asked, frowning. "Or they just ignored it?"

Rhodey shrugged. "A bit of both, I guess. He was always the life of the party, so a drink in his hand seemed normal. But there were times when it got out of hand. Once, at a major tech conference, he was clearly drunk on stage. But he still somehow managed to make people laugh and impress them with new technology. Most people just thought it was part of his eccentric genius act."

"And no one stepped in?" Coulson asked.

"I have to admit, I was never very good at keeping Tony in line. Well, no one was, really. Every time I tried, I ended up drunker than he was. Of course, Obadiah kept an eye on him, but he also had a vested interest in keeping Tony happy and productive. There were times when Tony would go on a bender and Obadiah would handle things quietly, smoothing over any potential PR disasters... It worked and Tony was functioning and he was brilliant and he seemed to be having the time of his life. But then came Afghanistan. And I think we should also keep in mind that Obadiah is not here anymore. Maybe he was an essential part of keeping Tony on track."

"But why are you blaming yourself, Rhodey?" Pepper asked.

"Because this is the thing about Tony: He hides it all behind this facade of confidence and cockiness. But deep down, he's been battling his demons for a long time. And I knew that, but I didn't do anything when I saw him getting worse after Afghanistan."

"I saw it too," Pepper said, looking down. "Tony always drank a lot. I watched for years. But I was just his assistant and somehow everything always went well. I let myself be blinded."

"Well, if you're done passing the buck, you can finally start blaming me. Because I'm the one responsible."

Tony opened the kitchen door and looked into the surprised faces of Pepper, Rhodey and Coulson.

"Sorry, I overheard a little bit," Tony admitted, sinking into a chair.

Tony was still nauseous and the sweating hadn't stopped yet, but he was doing much better at drinking enough water and after a few hours of sleep he wasn't quite as exhausted as before.

"You seem a little better," Pepper noted happily.

"Yes, I am."

"And you managed to get down here. That's a good sign," Rhodey said, smiling a little.

Tony nodded and rested his forearms on the table. The smell of the tomato sauce made him nervous, his stomach not yet ready for a confrontation with food.

"It's not about blame," Coulson said after a moment. "There's a reason this happened. You've been traumatized. People have experienced less bad things and still become addicts."

Tony thought for a moment and then nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"I didn't want to admit it," he said, even though every word he said was an insult to himself. "I couldn't accept that I was having panic attacks. That I kept seeing these bad images and had no control over these feelings. I didn't want to feel that. So I tried to make it go away. The way I'd always done it, the way it always worked..."

"Until it didn't work anymore," Coulson said.

Tony paused for a moment as something occurred to him.

"Yeah... it's still hard to think about Obadiah. Hearing what he did for me and then..." He paused again and cleared his throat. "I didn't mourn him. I thought I was too angry to grieve, but if I'm honest, I just made the same mistake I made when my parents died."

Pepper put her hand on his and looked at him sympathetically.

Let it happen, Tony told himself. Just let it happen. Compassion. Why was that so damn hard to bear?

"I should have asked all of you for help a lot sooner," Tony admitted reluctantly. "And I want to thank you."

Three smiling faces beamed at him and Tony felt something like warmth for the first time in a very long time. There they were, sitting in front of him. Pepper, Rhodey and maybe also Coulson. And he could feel that they cared about him. They had fought for him the last five days. They had taken care of him when he hadn't been able to. They had seen him at his worst. And yet they sat here with him. And were happy for him that things were starting to get better.

Tony looked down at the table in front of him, because he couldn't stand their stares anymore. He would have to learn to allow such things. But it was a start.