Fic: Iron Man; Alright (Elements of Life Series)
Full disclosure: I really only post fic here because I want to be able to add it to my master list. I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON.
In any event have an Iron Man fic I've had finished for a month or so. :D
Also, the typo on the title isn't mine. It's the way the song spelled it, so it's the way I'm rolling with it.
Alright
Iron Man Movie!verse; Post-Iron Man2 but Pre-Avengers; implied Tony/Pepper
There was a certain silence that fell on the Stark Mansion whenever Iron Man was away. Sometimes, it was like Pepper believed in the boogeyman again.
Warning graphic descriptions of injury. This is also an angst fic...or as close as I get to angst anyway.
There was a certain silence that fell on the Stark Mansion whenever Iron Man was away. It was a deep, looming silence that only got worse in the dark, when Pepper was alone and exposed to her every thought without distraction. During the day, at least, she had Happy or Rhodey or piles and piles of paperwork to keep her distracted. Sometimes she even had a handful of SHIELD agents that needed wrangling.
But at night, when she was alone, when every little thing belonged to Tony or smelled like Tony or reminded her of Tony…
Sometimes it was like she believed in the boogeyman again, only this time it didn't lurk under her bed or hide in her closet - it lingered in the air like a haze, poisoning her thoughts.
Tonight was no different. Tony was gone, off helping the UN diffuse a conflict brewing between India and Pakistan, and she was sitting in the living room trying desperately to focus on anything that wasn't streaming updates on the conflict. Scour though she might, none of the major channels were saying anything about whether Iron Man was still standing by, and even Pepper's access to alternative, unorthodox news sources wasn't yielding anything useful.
"Jarvis," she called, her voice taut and thick. "Could you turn the TV off? Please?"
"Right away," Jarvis replied, and then the TV went dark. Pepper turned away from it anyway, moving quickly into the kitchen. She brusquely shut her laptop as she walked by, resisting the urge to check CNN, and poured herself a nice glass of cold water.
By every account, it was a low-risk mission. Iron Man was there strictly to serve as a deterrent to both countries, in hopes that they would relax and let the UN finish its investigation. No one expected the conflict to actually need Iron Man. But Pepper knew there was no guarantee. The last time Tony had gone anywhere to help with diplomatic relations he had come home with a fractured tibia and an eye so swollen he couldn't open it for three days. The bruises were so bad she couldn't even touch him for almost a week.
That mission had started out a lot like this one. Lots of media hype, lots of fear-mongering, lots of rehearsed reassurances from the upper echelons of the government, lots of "it's okay, Iron Man's there!" - and then the bombs had started falling, literally and metaphorically. That could happen again. Security was tight - but it was never that tight. If she'd learned anything at all from her time as Mr. Stark's personal assistant, it was that there were always holes.
Besides, it wasn't like Tony could spend twenty-four hours a day in the suit. No, he had to come out of it sometime and then, because he was Tony and even on his best days he had almost no regard for his own safety, there wouldn't be any security by his door. It would be so easy for someone to get in and…
Dammit, Pepper hissed to herself, pressing the heels of her palms against her forehead. Dammit, dammit, dammit! Those were the exact thoughts she was trying so hard to avoid. But here they were, her boogeymen, creeping out from under the couch and from the vents and the closets - wherever there was darkness for them to hide in.
He's probably perfectly fine, she told herself, forcefully cutting into her own thoughts. He's probably even on his way back. He's just… He's probably flying slow. Enjoying the sights. Maybe he stopped to sign a few autographs. Model the suit. You know how he is.
He's fine.
There was a small pause. For a few seconds Pepper looked out the window at the dark ocean, watching the distant lights of a far-off ship bob in the waves as it sailed up the coast. Then a small voice at the back of her mind said, What if he's not?
And just like that, all of the confidence Pepper had summoned up was gone. A deluge of other thoughts, each one darker and more worrisome than the last, flooded her brain: What if the reason why she hadn't heard anything was because he was dead? What if Rhodey was just delaying, trying to find the right words to tell her that Tony wasn't coming home? What if the phone rang and it was Rhodey or Happy or Jarvis telling her they'd be bringing Tony's body home in the morning and if she could just start making the funeral arrangements…
Pepper closed her eyes, gritting her teeth. No. Absolutely not. He's fine. He's fine and he'll be home soon.
She took a deep breath, forcing her mind to clear.
He was fine, and if he wasn't she'd kill him herself.
"Pepper."
Biting back a startled cry, Pepper whipped around. How he'd gotten there she didn't know, but there was Tony, leaning heavily against the wall by the stairs to his workshop. One arm was tucked up against his chest while his other hand splayed on the wall for extra support. His face and shirt were smeared with blood, his hair was matted against his forehead, and his breathing was labored and uneven.
"Tony!"
Pepper darted across the room and reached for him, taking Tony's good arm and lacing it around her shoulders. He shifted, his weight falling heavily onto her.
"I hurt," he managed, his eyes fluttering closed. His voice was raspy and shaky and weak, like he had to fight for every word.
Pepper felt her throat tighten and she clenched her jaw, successfully swallowing a wave of tears after just a few seconds. "I'm sure," she murmured, guiding him over toward the couch. Tony winced with every movement and collapsed onto the couch as soon as he was able. Blood dribbled from a raw, open cut on his arm onto the cushions, staining the white fabric a brilliant red.
He looked even worse in the light. Pepper took notes, looking him over quickly to see what she might need. Then she was off, seeking the well-stocked first aid kit Natalie - Natasha - had helped her put together when it became obvious Tony wasn't going to make any more trips to the doctor now that he was Iron Man than he did when he was only Tony Stark.
She headed back to the living room with the kit and wondered whether the world was even aware that this - that the bloody, hurting mess all but passed out on his couch - was just as much a part of Iron Man as the hero they all seemed to worship. She wondered if anyone realized that he risked getting all of these injuries and then some every time they sent him off to fight. The suit could protect him, but only so much. All that kinetic energy had to go somewhere.
Pepper swallowed.
There were a thousand things she could have said to Tony. She could have asked why he didn't call or told him, for the millionth time, how much he made her worry. She could have launched into another lecture about taking care of himself - hell, he probably expected that.
But she didn't. She was just glad to see him, glad to have him, glad to know that he was home and he was still breathing.
Knowing that, having that, meant everything was going to be alright.
She knelt down beside him, offering him the strongest, most reassuring smile she could muster.
Then she got to work.
In any event have an Iron Man fic I've had finished for a month or so. :D
Also, the typo on the title isn't mine. It's the way the song spelled it, so it's the way I'm rolling with it.
Alright
Iron Man Movie!verse; Post-Iron Man2 but Pre-Avengers; implied Tony/Pepper
There was a certain silence that fell on the Stark Mansion whenever Iron Man was away. Sometimes, it was like Pepper believed in the boogeyman again.
Warning graphic descriptions of injury. This is also an angst fic...or as close as I get to angst anyway.
There was a certain silence that fell on the Stark Mansion whenever Iron Man was away. It was a deep, looming silence that only got worse in the dark, when Pepper was alone and exposed to her every thought without distraction. During the day, at least, she had Happy or Rhodey or piles and piles of paperwork to keep her distracted. Sometimes she even had a handful of SHIELD agents that needed wrangling.
But at night, when she was alone, when every little thing belonged to Tony or smelled like Tony or reminded her of Tony…
Sometimes it was like she believed in the boogeyman again, only this time it didn't lurk under her bed or hide in her closet - it lingered in the air like a haze, poisoning her thoughts.
Tonight was no different. Tony was gone, off helping the UN diffuse a conflict brewing between India and Pakistan, and she was sitting in the living room trying desperately to focus on anything that wasn't streaming updates on the conflict. Scour though she might, none of the major channels were saying anything about whether Iron Man was still standing by, and even Pepper's access to alternative, unorthodox news sources wasn't yielding anything useful.
"Jarvis," she called, her voice taut and thick. "Could you turn the TV off? Please?"
"Right away," Jarvis replied, and then the TV went dark. Pepper turned away from it anyway, moving quickly into the kitchen. She brusquely shut her laptop as she walked by, resisting the urge to check CNN, and poured herself a nice glass of cold water.
By every account, it was a low-risk mission. Iron Man was there strictly to serve as a deterrent to both countries, in hopes that they would relax and let the UN finish its investigation. No one expected the conflict to actually need Iron Man. But Pepper knew there was no guarantee. The last time Tony had gone anywhere to help with diplomatic relations he had come home with a fractured tibia and an eye so swollen he couldn't open it for three days. The bruises were so bad she couldn't even touch him for almost a week.
That mission had started out a lot like this one. Lots of media hype, lots of fear-mongering, lots of rehearsed reassurances from the upper echelons of the government, lots of "it's okay, Iron Man's there!" - and then the bombs had started falling, literally and metaphorically. That could happen again. Security was tight - but it was never that tight. If she'd learned anything at all from her time as Mr. Stark's personal assistant, it was that there were always holes.
Besides, it wasn't like Tony could spend twenty-four hours a day in the suit. No, he had to come out of it sometime and then, because he was Tony and even on his best days he had almost no regard for his own safety, there wouldn't be any security by his door. It would be so easy for someone to get in and…
Dammit, Pepper hissed to herself, pressing the heels of her palms against her forehead. Dammit, dammit, dammit! Those were the exact thoughts she was trying so hard to avoid. But here they were, her boogeymen, creeping out from under the couch and from the vents and the closets - wherever there was darkness for them to hide in.
He's probably perfectly fine, she told herself, forcefully cutting into her own thoughts. He's probably even on his way back. He's just… He's probably flying slow. Enjoying the sights. Maybe he stopped to sign a few autographs. Model the suit. You know how he is.
He's fine.
There was a small pause. For a few seconds Pepper looked out the window at the dark ocean, watching the distant lights of a far-off ship bob in the waves as it sailed up the coast. Then a small voice at the back of her mind said, What if he's not?
And just like that, all of the confidence Pepper had summoned up was gone. A deluge of other thoughts, each one darker and more worrisome than the last, flooded her brain: What if the reason why she hadn't heard anything was because he was dead? What if Rhodey was just delaying, trying to find the right words to tell her that Tony wasn't coming home? What if the phone rang and it was Rhodey or Happy or Jarvis telling her they'd be bringing Tony's body home in the morning and if she could just start making the funeral arrangements…
Pepper closed her eyes, gritting her teeth. No. Absolutely not. He's fine. He's fine and he'll be home soon.
She took a deep breath, forcing her mind to clear.
He was fine, and if he wasn't she'd kill him herself.
"Pepper."
Biting back a startled cry, Pepper whipped around. How he'd gotten there she didn't know, but there was Tony, leaning heavily against the wall by the stairs to his workshop. One arm was tucked up against his chest while his other hand splayed on the wall for extra support. His face and shirt were smeared with blood, his hair was matted against his forehead, and his breathing was labored and uneven.
"Tony!"
Pepper darted across the room and reached for him, taking Tony's good arm and lacing it around her shoulders. He shifted, his weight falling heavily onto her.
"I hurt," he managed, his eyes fluttering closed. His voice was raspy and shaky and weak, like he had to fight for every word.
Pepper felt her throat tighten and she clenched her jaw, successfully swallowing a wave of tears after just a few seconds. "I'm sure," she murmured, guiding him over toward the couch. Tony winced with every movement and collapsed onto the couch as soon as he was able. Blood dribbled from a raw, open cut on his arm onto the cushions, staining the white fabric a brilliant red.
He looked even worse in the light. Pepper took notes, looking him over quickly to see what she might need. Then she was off, seeking the well-stocked first aid kit Natalie - Natasha - had helped her put together when it became obvious Tony wasn't going to make any more trips to the doctor now that he was Iron Man than he did when he was only Tony Stark.
She headed back to the living room with the kit and wondered whether the world was even aware that this - that the bloody, hurting mess all but passed out on his couch - was just as much a part of Iron Man as the hero they all seemed to worship. She wondered if anyone realized that he risked getting all of these injuries and then some every time they sent him off to fight. The suit could protect him, but only so much. All that kinetic energy had to go somewhere.
Pepper swallowed.
There were a thousand things she could have said to Tony. She could have asked why he didn't call or told him, for the millionth time, how much he made her worry. She could have launched into another lecture about taking care of himself - hell, he probably expected that.
But she didn't. She was just glad to see him, glad to have him, glad to know that he was home and he was still breathing.
Knowing that, having that, meant everything was going to be alright.
She knelt down beside him, offering him the strongest, most reassuring smile she could muster.
Then she got to work.