MIA
Title: MIA
Fandom: Iron man
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This one kind of tore its way out of me. It's my idea of what Pepper might have gone through while Tony was missing. The characters and the canon storyline are not mine.
* * *
The overhead lighting in in the kitchen shined harshly on General Ross as his voice droned. He gestured at the map spread out on the table in front of him.
“We're going to be working on finding new contacts in refugee settlements here and here,” he said. “It's..unlikely that no one has seen anything. We're also going to be doing further satellite passes over these hills in the next few days.”
Here, Jim Rhodes spoke up. “With all respect, sir, isn't that exactly where the satellites have found nothing so far?”
The general leveled his gaze at the other man. Such a question of his judgment was an abrogation of rank; but with the stakes so high, and with the nerves of all eleven people in the room worn so thin, that was the least significant thing about it.
“Colonel Rhodes, we've combed a thousand-mile radius around the ambush site in the time since it happened, increased border security and satellite recon, as well as exhausted all of our informants in Afghanistan. There's just simply nowhere else to look. All we can hope for now is that someone talks, or that our abductors slip up and leave their toys outside.”
Pepper Potts had been just sitting and listening for the past several hours, after a lengthy presentation of her own earlier in the day. Finally, however, she stood up abruptly, her the wooden chair grating against the linoleum.
“Gentleman, gentleman,” she said, holding out her hands, “I think we are done for tonight. It's after two o' clock in the morning, and we convened at six A.M. We have done all we can for Mr. Stark tonight, which, from the sound of things, is precious little.”
The men crowded around the table, representing the CIA, the Department of Homeland Security and all branches of the Armed Forces, were taken aback, and exchanged nervous glances. An instant later, however, they began to gather their belongings in silent assent.
“The lady has a point,” Ross grudgingly admitted. “We've probably let this go on too long today, no more than we have to go on. We are not done here, however. Let's reconvene here at 0800.”
Pepper tried to hide her reaction, but Rhodie knew her too well to miss it. “Again with respect, Sir,” he said, “waiting until 1000 would allow us to miss the worst civilian traffic, and benefit from the day's first major intel report.” Pepper blessed him silently.
General Ross nodded gravely, his mouth firm with displeasure. “Very well, then. We'll reconvene here at 1000 hours.
“That's excellent,” Pepper said, striding over to the door and holding it open. Her voice was spiny with false cheer. “Good night, gentlemen, sleep well. Breakfast will be provided when you return.” She actually waved the last few people out the door when they didn't move fast enough. By the time she slammed the door, only Rhodes and Obediah Stane remained. Stane was leaned back in a borrowed office chair, his arms crossed over his chest, and Rhodie regarded her with a quizzically raised eyebrow.
“Pepper, what was that about?” Stane asked.
She walked toward them, out of the dining area and into the main kitchen cordoned off by the counter, her eyes focused somewhere just beyond them. The two men were abruptly startled, as a broken scream shattered the eerie, post-midnight silence. Pepper broke down crying, escalating quickly into hard, loud wounded sobs. She covered her face with one hand and steadied herself against the counter with the other. The sound spread like a dark liquid in the mundane, controlled environment of the kitchen.
“Pepper!” she heard Obie exclaim, and “Woah!” from Rhodie. Rhodie came over and frankly but respectfully embraced her, and she vaguely felt Obie rest one hand on her shoulder. The contact did something to siphon off the truly disconsolate wails that churned darkly and grew within her.
All day, throughout various briefings by their high-level guests, Pepper had heard only about how there was no trace of her employer. What was worse, after two months, there had been no hostage video, no claim of responsibility, no demands for ransom in the form of money, weapons or prisoners. All the evidence indicated that whoever was holding Tony Stark captive, they had targeted him specifically. They wanted something from him, not in exchange for him. The only thing that comforted Pepper was the knowledge that if anyone had the silver tongue and arctic composure to navigate that type of situation, it was Tony. Nevertheless, that last reminder had caused something to break open momentarily inside of her.
“Just breathe, soldier,” Rhodie said, rubbing her back. Following that advice, she soon stopped sobbing, even as large, hot tears still rolled down her face. By this point, Obie had wet a washcloth in the sink and handed it to her.
“Guys, I am so sorry,” she said, stepping back and dabbing at her face.
“Don't be,” Obie said. “You were right-we're all overtired, we're all at the end of our rope here.”
“I just--” she squeezed the rag in her hand. “I feel so helpless. We don't know what's happening, and we couldn't do anything about it if we did.” Fresh tears threatened.
“Oh, believe me,” I understand,” Rhodie said.
“I think we all do,” Obie agreed. “But Pepper, trust me-we're gonna be okay. You're gonna get through this.”
She gave him a look that was a tired mix of confusion and offense. An almost tangible awkwardness filled the space between the three of them.
“And so will Tony,” finished Rhodie.
“Exactly,” Obie agreed.
“I could use some water,” Pepper said, turning the conversation. She opened the refrigerator. “Anyone else?”
“I'm fine, thanks,” Stane said, but Rhodes raised his hand. She handed him one bottle and opened one for herself. She made a startled face as she took the first sip.
“That's weird.”
“What's wrong?”
“It's carbonated. I like that, but Tony hates it.”
The two men exchanged would could almost be taken for a knowing look. Rhodie bit one corner of his lip and glanced downward, with an expression of almost physical pain.
“I'm going to go step outside and get some air,” Pepper said.
“You do that,” Stane replied. “I've just got to collect a few things and then I'll be headed to bed.” He was staying in one of the mansion's guest bedrooms for the duration of the briefing. They wished each other good night and exchanged a stilted hug as Pepper headed out the door of the veranda.
The starless sky was a dark blue purple. A hint of light pollution encroached from the east, blushing like a false dawn. Had the sun been up, the ferns and small palm trees which edged the marble patio would have provided plenty of privacy. The sea was more of a sound than anything-steady, cyclical and powerful, the water occasionally glimmering on the periphery of the horizon.
Pepper sank into a canvas chair and nursed her water. The sky made her wonder, dimly, what time it as in Afghanistan, but her tired brain wouldn't do the math. A few minutes had passed when she heard the sliding-glass door open and close as Rhodie came out to join her.
“Rhodie, why don't I do this more often?” she asked.
“Well, um, Pepper,” he said, “I don't believe you're usually up here at three in th morning...”
She rolled her eyes, blushing slightly. “You know what I mean. At my place. It's almost right on the beach. I have a back porch, I even have my grandmother's old rocking chair.”
Rhodie shrugged, pulling up a chair beside her. “I do know that you and Tony both keep pretty busy.”
She nodded, then sighed and shook her head. “I fee like such a cliché' right now.”
“Don't say that,” Rhodie said, his voice both sharp and tender. “Don't you even think that. You've been a rock. I don't know how you've held it together as well as you have.”
“Thank you,” she replied quietly.
“Besides, Pepper,” he continued, “it's not as if I haven't shed a few tears of my own in the past few weeks.”
She tilted her head in surprise. “Really?”
“Oh, of course.” He said. “It happened on my watch, after all.”
She shook her head. “You're our Pentagon liaison. You were not in charge of security.”
“Doesn't matter. I'm still responsible for my family.”
At this, she swallowed another lump in her throat.
“Pepper, I'm going back.:
“What?!”
“Back to Afghanistan. To resume my own search for Tony. I didn't want to come back when I did. They made me. You know that.”
“When are you leaving?”
“A.S.A.P. There's a military flight that's wheels-up in a few hours. I can sleep on the way.”
She gasped. “I know, but you got me to thinking: if I want this done right, I'm going to have to do it myself. I won't be here for the rest of the briefing.”
“Does Obie know?”
Rhodie took a pull on his water bottle. “No.”
“How come?”
He had been sitting leaned forward, in a characteristically kinetic pose. Now he settled back int his chair. “Pepper, one time Tony told me that he would trust me with his life. He went on to say that he would trust you, too.”
This news caused something to move deep within her. “Me?” she said. “Well, that's sweet, but-I can't imagine a situation where he'd have to. How drunk was he when he said all of this, anyway?”
“Oh, just a sheet, a sheet and a half to the wind maybe,” Rhodie answered, having to grin at how well she knew their friend. “That doesn't change the fact. In vino veritas, you know?”
“What is your point? Tony does trust him, I can tell you that.”
Rhodie glanced far up to the guest bedroom window, where a light was still on as Sane prepared to go to bed. “Somethings you just know, without even knowing you know them-you know?”
Pepper lowered her voice, even though there was no way Obie could here them. “You can't possibly think Obie would ever wish Tony ill.”
“Things got little weird in there, don't you think?”
Pepper was shocked, even had to think for a moment before remembering what he was referring to. “What? That? I think he's just trying to avoid getting his hopes up. We all cope in our own ways.”
“You're probably right,” Rhodie said, taking another long sip of water. “I just know that Obie's name didn't come up that time. I don't really trust much of anyone with this right now-just you and a couple of buddies of mine that I can meet up with over there. They'll help me and provide-well, everything we might need.”
Guns, she thought to her self. Medical supplies.
Neither of them spoke for a while. “Wait,” Pepper asked finally. “How are you even going to get clearance for this mission?
“Well, the boys from D.C. Have made it sound like a national security issue, don't you think?”
Pepper's stomach lurched uncomfortably within her, just as it has when the same implication had been made earlier in the evening. She nodded, pulling her arms and legs closer, as if by doing so she could protect anyone but herself.
“Besides.” Rhodie continued, clearing his throat. “In George W. Bush's army, requisitions for forgiveness tend to have a higher rate of approval, and a faster turnaround time, than requisitions for permission.”
Pepper couldn't help it. She laughed heartily at this.
He smiled broadly. “Now, that's more like it. We'll have Tony back with us soon, and he'll be laughing with us, like we do. Hell, he'll have us laughing.”
Pepper swiped her sleeve at her nose as a few more tears escaped. “You're a good friend, Rhodie," she said. "Tony's lucky to have you."
“Me? He's lucky to have you. All I'm gonna say, Pepper, is that I hope that someone would be that upset if I were the one missing.”
She thought she knew what was he was implying, and it made her uncomfortable-but not for the reasons it should have, which made her even more uncomfortable. Instead of addressing all of that, however, she merely smiled at him. “Why, Rhodie, of course there would be. One of those people would be me. So be careful, you here?”
“I will,” he said. They embraced as he stood.
Pepper watched the pools of light from Rhodie's jeep as he drove away. She went back into the house, her calves and feet reminding her of how tired she was.
She instructed JARVIS to take the lights down low. The house was so quiet, she thought to her self. Unbearably so. On more than one occasion, she had come to the mansion and caught her compulsively communicative employer in a two-way conversation with his creation, just because there didn't happen to be anyone else around. That was not for her, however. It just wasn't the same. So Jarvis had said very little in the past few months.
She did ask JARVIS for the time. 3:17 A.M. There was still time to get a little rest before having to get everything ready all over again.