Chapter Text
The private jet glided smoothly through the blue sky, carrying the promise of their upcoming trip to Venice. It had been two months since the battle with the Mandarin, and while the physical scars of that confrontation were fading, the weight of the recent battle still clung to Tony.
Pepper, sitting across from him, gave a theatrical clearing of her throat and held up a freshly folded copy of The New York Times.
“Listen to this,” she said playfully. “Tony Stark: A Hero Among Heroes. The genius inventor not only brought the infamous Mandarin to justice but also saved countless lives in his relentless pursuit of peace. With his unparalleled intellect and courage, Stark has finally vanquished his longtime nemesis, the Ten Rings, securing his legacy as one of the greatest minds – and hearts – of our time.”
She dropped the newspaper onto her lap with a smirk. “You know, just a few months ago, they were calling you a reckless drunk who’d either bankrupt his own company or blow himself up in one of his toys. Now look at you - golden boy of the century.”
Tony blinked, his gaze fixed on the window without truly seeing through it.
“Yeah, well… they’re consistent in their inconsistency,” he mumbled, barely acknowledging her teasing.
Pepper tilted her head, her amusement shifting to concern as she studied him. “Is something wrong? You seem miles away.”
He turned to her, forcing a casual smile. “Oh, just thinking about the trip. It’s going to be amazing.”
“Really?” she asked. "Because it looks like you're thinking about something else."
Tony had told Pepper all about the attack in Berlin. Everything the Mandarin had let him see. Everything - except the vision of his death. He had tried to forget it, not to attach any importance to it, and he didn't want to worry Pepper. But now he felt he had to talk about it because he couldn't get it out of his mind. On top of that, he didn't want to spoil this trip by hiding another important detail again.
“It’s just… the Mandarin showed me something,” he admitted, his voice low.
“Which one of the things do you mean?” Pepper’s brow furrowed in concern.
“I haven’t told you yet…” Tony sighed, his gaze drifting back to the sky outside. “He showed me my death.”
“He… What?”
Pepper’s high-pitched voice made him glance at her again. He quickly described the vision while Pepper became visibly pale. He hated seeing that, but he also had understood by now that she wanted to know these things.
“Tony, that’s not real,” she said when he had finished, shaking her head in disbelief. “It can’t be.”
“Maybe not,” he agreed. “But it felt real. More real than that vision of the bar he showed me. Or your screams. They made me question if it’s real. This death vision kinda doesn’t… And you… you looked older. Like – you really could look like that.”
Pepper’s unease was palpable as she shifted in her seat. “What if it was just a trick? A way to mess with your head?”
“I don’t know. It felt too vivid to be just a trick,” he said, turning to meet her gaze. “I could feel the life slipping away from me. Truly feel it.”
Pepper reached out, placing her hand on his knee. “How old was I? In the vision, I mean.”
“I don’t know exactly. Maybe ten years older than now? Maybe more,” he replied, a faint smile touching his lips. “But you still looked beautiful if that is what concerns you.”
“It’s obviously not,” she said impatiently, discomfort flashing across her face. “No… You can’t take this seriously. Look, you already defeated him and it was the only thing he had left to hurt you. This is not… We have so much time ahead of us.”
“Do we?” he questioned, his voice heavy.
“Tony,” she said softly, got up and slid onto his lap. “Ten years, twenty, thirty – who knows? We can’t let fear take away from us what we have now.”
“Fear has already taken a lot from me… it’s good at that.”
Pepper seemed to think for a moment before she spoke again. “Fine, let’s see it this way: Then we have ten wonderful years ahead of us. Nothing can happen to us in the meantime, no matter what we do because we already know this scene isn’t going to happen until then.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“Aha! So you’re admitting that the future is changeable? That it makes a difference what we do, the choices we make? If I jump out of this plane, I would die, right? Then I won’t sit in front of you in ten years like in that vision.”
“Well… I suppose so. But you wouldn’t jump out of a plane, so it’s just a theory.”
“Maybe we land in Venice, you eat pasta, and that changes everything?” she tried to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. “Tony, we can’t know all of this, and that’s okay. I refuse to believe that some weird ring knows what’s going to happen in ten years. And honestly, it doesn’t suit you to believe in something like that.”
Tony didn’t reply, but something in her words made him pause. She had a point – life was unpredictable, and he knew better than most how things could change in an instant. Maybe the future wasn’t set. And while he wasn’t ready to dismiss the vision completely, Pepper’s conviction lifted a weight off his shoulders, even if just for now.
The plane descended toward the glistening waters of Venice, golden sunlight streaming into the cabin. Pepper stole a glance at Tony, who stared out the window. His face softened by the light, though a faint furrow in his brow lingered.
“Welcome to Venice,” she said, her voice bright with forced cheer. She hoped the city’s charm could lift his spirits.
Stepping off the jet, the warm sun embraced them. A sleek water taxi whisked them across the lagoon, the salty breeze clearing their heads with freshness. After they had checked into their hotel and stepped into the bustling streets, Pepper felt the vibrancy of Venice starting to work its magic. She noticed Tony's shoulders relax slightly, though his eyes still held a shadow of something unspoken.
Arm in arm, they wandered the sunlit streets. Pepper took in the scent of fresh pastries mingling with the sea air, the laughter of couples echoing around them.
“I’m glad we finally came here,” she said.
Tony glanced at her, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Me too. I think I need this more than I thought.”
Later, as they settled into a gondola, Pepper gestured at the scene around them. “Look at this. It’s like something out of a movie.”
“Or a cheesy travel brochure. But I’ll take it,” Tony smirked.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. A smile tugged at his lips as he read the message.
“It’s Happy,” Tony said, holding the phone out for her to see. The message read: “Try not to sink the gondola, boss. And seriously, don’t do anything stupid. Venice is full of canals, and I’m pretty sure none of them have airbags. Have fun... I guess. – Happy.”
Pepper raised an eyebrow, looking at Tony. “Guess all the craziness is getting to him too.”
“Yeah, after everything that’s happened, I think he’s convinced I’m just one misstep away from falling into a pit of doom. Poor guy’s probably losing sleep over us.”
Pepper’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “He’s not the only one. I think we all need a vacation, including Happy.”
“I’m glad I get to spend it with you alone. Would be weird to share the bed with Happy between us.”
Pepper laughed, a sound full of relief. It was a joy to see Tony light up. She moved closer, settling beside him and gently leaning against his shoulder. Tony instinctively wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in snugly as he pressed her against him. As they glided under a picturesque bridge, Pepper felt a sense of peace enveloping them.
However, when they stepped off the gondola, she caught the slight tension returning to his posture. His sunglasses slid over his eyes, hiding whatever thoughts had begun to creep back.
***
In the soft light of the hotel room, Tony lay with his head resting in Pepper’s lap, his eyes half-closed. The moment felt perfect; stress and worries seemed distant, even if only for a fleeting moment. They had been in Venice for a week now, and the lively sounds from outside filtered in through the open window. Pepper gently ran her fingers through his hair, and Tony found himself completely relaxing.
“It could go on like this forever,” he murmured, a soft smile pulling at his lips.
“Yeah... but we need to get going soon,” Pepper replied gently. “We don’t want to be late for the exhibition.”
Tony opened his eyes, looking up at her, and a strange, painful tightness gripped his chest.
“I’d much rather stay here,” he admitted, closing his eyes once more.
“The opening is just tonight, Tony. I really want to see this.”
Tony felt a strange emptiness stir in him at the thought of leaving. Like a deep, quiet discomfort, a longing to remain in her lap, a yearning to hold onto this brief moment of serenity away from the outside world.
“Sure. Okay,” he said finally, the words coming out more reluctantly than he meant, even to his own ears.
A silence settled between them, and then Tony felt Pepper’s hand brush his cheek. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of a single tear, before gently wiping it away.
“Are you... crying?” she asked quietly.
“No,” he shot back quickly.
Pepper didn’t pull back. “Come on, Tony. Talk to me.”
Tony swallowed.
“I’m still thinking about that vision,” he said slowly. “I’m just... stressed about it. I can’t help but feel like we have so little time together. Ten years is nothing. What if we can’t grow old together?”
Pepper’s eyes softened with understanding, but her voice was firm. “No. Tony, you need to stop letting this stuff get to you. The only real things he showed you were your memories, your thoughts, your fears. My screams weren’t real, Rhodey’s death wasn’t real. I was okay, and Rhodey survived... and he’s thriving! Why should you believe that this vision is the one thing that’s true?”
Tony held her gaze, the hurt in his chest battling with the logic in her words.
“The Mandarin can’t predict the future, Tony. No one can. He wanted it to haunt you. Don’t let him win.”
Tony nodded slowly, although he wasn’t convinced entirely. “Yeah. Okay,” he said quietly. “You’re right. I know that, but… I don’t know how to shake this off.”
Pepper gently stroked his cheek again, and he let himself lean into the comfort for a moment.
„We can stay,“ Pepper then simply said.
“No, it’s fine,” Tony quickly said. “You want to see this, and maybe it’s just the right thing to take things off my mind.”
“If it’s okay with you. Let’s give it a try,” Pepper said.
Then, slowly, she stood up. Tony sighed, taking a moment before he followed her, trying to push the heaviness aside.
They both got dressed, and as Tony slipped into the dark suit, he noticed the way Pepper looked at him, her gaze appreciative. It was small, but it made him feel a little lighter, as if he was closer to the Tony he had been before all of this – the one who could hold himself together so easily, the one who had been so unaffected by the world events around him.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, they made their way to the elegant art exhibition in a historic palazzo, stepping onto the red carpet where photographers awaited them. The flashes of cameras and the buzz of the crowd surrounded them, and Tony felt a flicker of enjoyment.
When they got inside, the air buzzed with laughter and conversation, and the ambiance was alive with the clinking of glasses and the murmur of appreciation for the artworks displayed throughout the gallery. Pepper’s eyes sparkled as she pointed out various pieces, her enthusiasm a welcome distraction for Tony.
“Oh, look at this one!” Pepper exclaimed, pointing to a striking painting that seemed to dance with color.
Her joy was infectious, and for a moment, Tony felt himself relax. Yet, as he watched her excitement, a shadow flickered across his mind. He tried to brush it aside, but it gnawed at him, refusing to be silenced. Pepper seemed too caught up in her excitement to notice, and Tony felt relieved that at least she was enjoying herself.
Then she suddenly grabbed his arm and brought him to a stop.
“Gosh, this can’t be true! There’s Claire and Ethan, my old college friends!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t seen them for an eternity! Come on, let’s go say hi.”
Tony offered a weak smile, shaking his head slightly.
“Yeah, uh. You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” he replied, sensing he needed a moment to gather himself.
Pepper hesitated, then nodded. “Uhm. Okay, I’ll be right back.”
She rushed toward them. Tony instinctively stepped back, giving her space for this moment of reconnection. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her delight. Watching Pepper laugh and reminisce made him feel happy for her.
But then, without warning, that warmth began to dissipate. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him, blurring the edges of his vision. He blinked, trying to shake off the sensation, but it only intensified.
Tony's breath quickened as he struggled to stop his mind from racing. What’s happening? The familiar grip of anxiety tightened in his gut, and he felt a ripple of panic surge within him. It had been a while since he had experienced anything like this, and he suddenly found himself yearning for escape, desperate to find some distance from the overwhelming emotions crashing over him.
He began to move. With each passing second, the room felt smaller. He needed to find a restroom. Now.
As he stumbled through the crowd, the dizziness intensified, making it hard to navigate. People’s voices were muffled, and their faces blurred as Tony’s panic overtook him. Finally, he slipped into a restroom, the door closing behind him with a reassuring click. He stared into the mirror. A frantic, pale and panicked version of himself stared back.
As he tried to catch his breath, clarity began to settle in. Watching Pepper's genuine and spontaneous happiness made him acutely aware of his own inability to be present. Why can’t I just enjoy this moment with her? But the answer was right there.
Tony blew out a gush of air and hold onto the edges of the sink. He was deeply afraid of his past, of the memories of Afghanistan he kept seeing. The past was a prison of what he couldn’t forget. But now there also was a future that was pitch-black. He was going to die. Not now. Later. A few years from now, maybe. But it was inevitable. And the present? He couldn’t embrace it because he was too busy fighting off the ghosts of what has been and what could be. He was stuck.
Tony stood before the mirror, the cold reality of his panic attack washing over him. He could see the remnants of his anxiety reflected back – his own eyes, wide and searching.
A gasp escaped his lips before he deliberately gritted his teeth and tensed up to hold himself together. Inhale… hold… exhale. He had done this before. He would survive this.
Slowly, a slightly calmer version of himself stared back, even if he knew the mask he wore couldn't fully hide the turmoil inside.
After collecting himself a bit, Tony stepped out of the restroom, and everything felt distant. As he emerged, he noticed Pepper and her old friends had vanished into the crowd, leaving him alone. He began to wander through the exhibition, attempting to absorb the art and atmosphere, but it only served as a barely helpful distraction. What he needed was Pepper. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, growing with each passing moment. However, she seemed to be swallowed by the earth.
Eventually, his gaze was drawn to a long table adorned with glimmering bottles and elegantly arranged glasses. A selection of champagne and cocktails was on the menu, and one drink caught his attention – an Old Fashioned. He had always liked whiskey the most.
This was salvation. Right?
No.
Tony realized he had stopped moving, staring intently at the table. He immediately forced himself to look away, drawing in a sharp breath, as if the sight of the drinks had burned him.
It was too late, though. The desire began to surge within him, undeniable, powerful. He wanted a drink. The craving roared to life, and he was terrified by it.
No, I won’t do it…
For a minute, he stood there, locked in a silent battle, staring at the drinks – fighting a battle he knew he couldn’t win right now.
As though guided by invisible strings, Tony made his way to the table, where a friendly waitress greeted him with a smile. “Posso offrirle qualcosa?“ Can I offer you something?
“Un Old Fashioned, per favore. E fallo bene,” he heard himself say, the words slipping out with surprising ease. An Old Fashioned, please. And make it good.
When the drink was freshly shaken and handed to him, Tony noticed his hands trembling with anticipation. His heart raced, pounding against the confines of his ribs. He was acutely aware that everything about this was wrong, yet the overwhelming urge to give in was suffocating.
No, he couldn’t do it. Just. Put. It. Down.
The orange fruity, slightly smoky aroma wafted up to him, with hints of angostura bitters drawing him further in. He turned away from the table and raised the glass to his lips, closing his eyes as he prepared to succumb to the moment.
“Tony? What are you doing?”
The voice cut through his haze, and he snapped his eyes open. It was Pepper. Tony flinched and lowered his hand, but the glass lingered dangerously close, the liquid swirling temptingly within. Pepper’s face was a mask of shock and disbelief.
"Tony!" she hissed, her voice carrying just enough urgency without drawing attention from the other guests. "Why… what are you doing?"
The panic in her eyes pierced through the haze of his despair. He could hear the pleading tone. For Pepper, seeing him like this – on the brink of another relapse – must be terrifying. A lump formed in his throat, but it was quickly overshadowed by a fierce defiance igniting inside him. He needed this. It was too late. He already made up his mind and there was no coming back from this. He. Needed. It. Everything in him screamed for it, like a hungry baby crying for its mother’s breast.
It was the one thing that could quiet the chaos churning within his mind, even if only for a moment.
Pepper didn’t move closer; she didn’t try to take the glass from his hand or physically stop him in any other way. She had learned her lesson and knew it would only make him angry. Instead, she stood there, rooted in place, her eyes locked onto his.
“Tony,” she implored, her voice trembling. “Please. Just… don’t.”
The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken fears and shared history. He could see the concern – and perhaps even horror – in the way her brow furrowed with anxiety.
“Pepper, I–”
“Just tell me what’s happening for a start,” she interrupted. “Why do you want to drink? What happened?”
He took a deep breath before he spoke, trying to suppress his impatience. “It… It’s like a loop. I can’t escape what I endured in Afghanistan. And now there’s also that death vision... I don’t know where to turn my gaze anymore. Not to the past, and not to the future. And both make my present a living hell. I’m tired, Pepper. And I just want it to stop.”
This seemed to utterly terrify Pepper. Her eyes widened and she took a small step closer, her hands held up as if trying to bridge the gap between them.
“I know you’re hurting,” she said gently. “I saw it this whole trip. There are moments of joy, but I keep looking at you, and after every laugh or smile, you seem tense, or anxious, or sad. But this isn’t the answer, Tony... You know that. It will inflict even more pain on you. Maybe not with this drink… but with all the others that follow.”
Tony didn’t respond at first. He stared at the ground, feeling an ache deep inside him that had been simmering for days, now threatening to overwhelm him. His chest tightened again, and for a moment, everything felt too much, too heavy, too sharp. He felt like he might break, like something inside him was unraveling, inch by inch.
“Why can’t I just be happy?” he finally blurted out, his voice cracking under the weight of everything he’d tried so hard to hold in. “Why can’t I enjoy the moments like you do?”
The pain in his voice was clear – even to himself, and he could see her heart breaking for him.
“Because you’ve been through so much and it just gets more and more. I wish I could take this pain away from you, I really do. But I can’t. Happiness isn’t something you can force; it’s something you have to let in when it comes to you. Don’t pressure yourself.”
Tony flinched, the words hitting him hard. Pepper always seemed to cut through the layers he hid behind, even when it hurt.
“I’m tired of fighting this fight, Pepper,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m drowning. Every time I think I’m okay, something pulls me back under."
Pepper took his hand and squeezed it. "You often use this metaphor. Drowning. I think it’s because you repeatedly come back to feeling like you did in Afghanistan when they really made you feel like drowning.” She paused for a moment. “Let me help you swim, Tony. I’m right here. You’re not alone."
Her voice wavered, but it wasn’t weak – it was filled with something Tony hadn’t felt in a long time: belief. Belief in him, despite everything. He looked down at their intertwined hands. Pepper wasn’t going anywhere, and that scared him almost as much as it reassured him.
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he said.
“I’m not disappointed, Tony,” she replied. “All I want is for you to be okay. Just... put the drink down. Please.”
Her words sank in, and he felt the grip of the drink loosen. The memories of laughter, the quiet moments, their chitchatting. These moments had been beautiful, and they mattered. He didn’t want to ruin it all over again by losing control over his drinking.
After a moment of silence, Tony finally let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low.
With a heavy heart, he slowly set the glass down on the table, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he turned back to her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her relief palpable.
“No, thank you,” Tony said quietly.
Pepper pulled him into a tender embrace and Tony allowed himself to breath. Then they looked at each other blankly for a moment.
“So, you wanna continue and look at these fantastic art pieces?” Tony asked and tried to smile.
“No, Tony…” Pepper answered slowly. “I don’t care about these stupid paintings and sculptures. I care about you. Let’s just go outside.”
Together, they quietly slipped away from the event, their steps blending with the hum of the crowd.
They walked side by side, hand in hand, the silence between them a comforting kind of quiet. Tony could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders, but for some reason, with Pepper by his side, it didn’t feel as unbearable as a minute before.
They made their way to a bridge, the river stretching out below them, dark and still, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights. Tony stopped at the railing, leaning on it for a moment, his eyes on the water, not really seeing it.
“I’m not okay,” he said, and it felt strange to admit, even though he knew it was true.
There was a long silence before Pepper spoke.
"I know," she said in such a soft way that he almost couldn’t handle it – her understanding, her mild tone, her support.
He let out a sharp breath, his gaze fixed on the water. It felt like it could swallow him whole if he let it. "I’m sorry, Pep. I don’t know how you put up with everything I drag you through. I wish you weren’t caught up in all of this."
"Tony…" Pepper began, but he shook his head to shut her up.
"When we get back, I... I’ll get help. I know I’ve been avoiding it, but it’s time. I have to face it. I can’t keep pretending like I’m fine when I’m not." Tony sighed. “I nearly slipped again. This can’t keep happening.”
Pepper looked at him surprised, then a faint smile reached her eyes. “I would be lying if I said this doesn’t relieve me. You saying this… it seems like a big step to me. Tony, I’m really proud of you.”
Tony closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a little of the weight lift from his chest. Maybe there was a way out of the darkness after all. But he knew it was still a long way to go.
They stood in silence for a few moments longer, the quiet of the night wrapping around them like a blanket, when suddenly, something shifted in the air. Tony turned his head slowly, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a figure standing at the far end of the bridge. There, illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights, stood Nick Fury. Hands shoved in his jacket pockets, his ever-present eye patch gleaming under the dim light. He wasn’t moving, just staring at them. Tony could feel Pepper stiffen beside him.
“Tony…” Pepper began as if she wanted to warn him.
"What does that old fart want now?" Tony muttered, trying to cut through the tension with humor. “Man, S.H.I.E.L.D. is so damn clingy. They can't even survive a week without me… Wait here.”
Tony started walking toward Fury, his steps deliberately light. He stopped a few feet away, crossing his arms over his chest. "What is it, Fury? I’m on vacation and you’re ruining a moment with that beautiful lady over there.”
Fury didn’t answer right away, just stood there, watching Tony with that same unreadable expression.
„Well, I wanted to congratulate you to your recent victory. Agent Romanoff told me you did really good.”
“Yeah, and you came here to Venice to tell me this.”
Tony glanced back at Pepper, still standing by the railing. She looked calm, but Tony could tell she wasn’t thrilled.
"Well?" Tony prompted, looking back at Fury. "You’ve got me here. What’s the big emergency? What do you want? Or did you come to finally tell me about those alien rings?”
“Not quite. Although ‘alien’ isn’t far off,” Fury said, his voice taking on a rare hint of seriousness. “I’ve mentioned the Avengers to you before. I’ll keep it brief. I’d like you on the team. Not immediately, but things are... evolving, and S.H.I.E.L.D. could use your expertise.”
“Wait, what?” Tony asked, caught off guard. “Last I checked, I wasn’t even considered fit for a consulting role.”
“The situation’s changed,” Fury muttered, clearly impatient.
“Oh, really? I see. Now that I battled a lunatic with superpowers, I’m interesting again. Well, I’m afraid you can’t afford me, Fury. I’m too expensive.”
“Come on, Stark,” Fury growled, the irritation obvious in his tone. “Don’t make me beg.”
Tony paused, pretending to ponder. “How should I put it? Actually... yes. Beg.”
Fury clicked his tongue in frustration, his single eye narrowing into a glare that could melt steel. “Not a chance.”
“Then I’m not interested.”
Fury clenched his jaw. “Cut the games, Stark. This is ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous is you not wanting to ask me nicely to work for you. What do I even get from that collaboration?” Tony shot back. “Does S.H.I.E.L.D. even have a union? Am I getting health insurance? What about holiday pay? Weekend shifts? Is there a Christmas bonus?”
“Alright, alright!” Fury snapped, his eye almost shooting lasers. He sighed loudly, the frustration practically rolling off him. “Fine… Please. We’ve got some serious things going on. Big things. I need you to meet a few people. Plus, we need your expertise. And your suit,” he added gruffly, then muttered with a sour look, “And, of course, the man inside it.”
Tony grinned smugly.
“I’ll think about it. Have your people schedule a meeting with my assistant,” Tony said and shot another glance back at Pepper. “Damn, I don’t have one anymore… Well, figure it out.”
Tony turned away, heading back toward Pepper, but Fury’s voice stopped him.
“I’m glad to see you back on track, Stark. Really.”
Tony didn’t turn around as he muttered, “Yeah… barely.”
He returned to Pepper who looked at him somehow scolding.
“What did he want?” she asked.
Tony slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head thoughtfully. “The Avengers Initiative. Of course Fury didn’t tell me a thing, but something dangerous seems to be going on. Sounds like it could be... interesting.”
Pepper’s brow furrowed slightly. “Interesting? Tony, every time S.H.I.E.L.D. shows up, there’s trouble. Have you ever considered that they might just be using you?”
Tony chuckled. “Of course they’re using me. It’s S.H.I.E.L.D. Manipulation is their love language. But don’t worry, it’s mutual. They’ve got access to things I want, and something tells me there’s more going on behind the scenes than they’re letting on.”
Pepper’s lips parted as if to respond, but she hesitated, her worry etched plainly across her face. Tony noticed, and his expression softened. He reached out, taking her hand again.
“Hey,” he said gently, his tone disarming. “We don’t have to figure this out right now. Why don’t we do something revolutionary instead?”
Pepper raised an eyebrow, her lips curving faintly. “What’s that?”
“Live in the moment,” Tony said with a wink, his grin laced with just the right amount of sarcasm.
A soft laugh escaped her, and she shook her head, but her smile lingered. Tony’s fingers gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind Pepper’s ear, his touch resting just a second longer than necessary.
“You became the most important thing in the world to me,” he said.
Pepper studied him, her expression unreadable for a moment, before a faint smile tugged at her lips. “I can tell.”
“Yeah?” Tony asked, unsure if she was teasing or serious.
“Yeah.” She nodded, her smile growing as she added, “You look scared when you say this.”
For a moment, Tony froze, caught off guard. The vulnerability in her words struck him, and his eyes flicked away briefly, betraying his discomfort.
“I am,” he then admitted, his voice quieter now. “But not scared of being with you. But of losing you.”
“You won’t,” Pepper said. “I will always be right by your side.”
A gentle salty breeze tousled his hair, and he let his gaze drift aimlessly somewhere beyond Pepper, trying to absorb and process her words. He’d always thought he could outsmart his problems, outbuild them, or simply outlast them. But this, the war he was fighting within himself – the PTSD, the addiction, the anxiety – wasn’t one he could win with intellect or machinery. It was a battle he’d have to face every single day, likely for the rest of his life. He knew it would be exhausting, that there would be moments he’d stumble. But now he felt something stronger than fear. Purpose.
He glanced at Pepper, her profile illuminated by the streetlights. She was his reason to keep pushing forward. And it wasn’t just for her. It was for the man he wanted to be – the man he could be, if he kept trying.
“I’ve got a long road ahead,” he said, breaking the silence.
“We,” Pepper corrected, her eyes searching his face. “Just take one step at a time.”
“That’s the thing, isn’t it? Every step feels like it’s uphill, barefoot, on broken glass.”
“And yet you’re still walking.”
He exhaled a laugh, low and unsteady. She always knew how to say the right thing. “Yeah. And I’ll keep walking. For you. For us. And... for all the things I’ve broken. It’s time I started fixing them.”
Pepper kissed him on his cheek but didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.
Tony thought about Fury’s offer, about the Avengers Initiative. It wasn’t something he could decide on right now. But maybe, just maybe, it was a way to get something important done: to leave a world behind that didn’t need him anymore. A world where Pepper could be safe, even if... even if he wasn’t around forever.
The vision… it still haunted him, but it didn’t crush him like it had before. If it was true, if his future was already written, then he’d make damn sure to write the best chapters leading up to it. He’d make every moment count.
Pepper's gentle smile melted the hardness within him, and all the tension of the evening finally dissolved. They started walking again, the hum of the city around them. He didn’t know what was going to happen. But for the first time, Tony didn’t feel like he was running from something. He was walking toward it.
And he wasn’t alone in it.