Chapter 2
“Query complete sir.” JARVIS notes, then recites, “Anton Vanko was a Soviet physicist who defected to the United States in 1963. However, he was accused of espionage and was deported in 1967. His son, Ivan, who is also a physicist, was convicted of selling Soviet-era weapons-grade plutonium to Pakistan and served 15 years in Kopeisk prison. No further records exist.” Tony parts his lips as he thinks, sitting in a car in his workshop looking at holograms.
With audible beeps of the keypad, Rhodey rushes in, all hands waving and frantic, “Tony, you gotta get upstairs and get on top of this situation right now.”
Tony looks up from where he’s gazing at his hands, staring into space as Rhodey rants.
“ Listen. I’ve been on the phone with the National Guard all day, trying to talk them out of rolling tanks up the PCH, knocking down your front door, and taking these.” Rhodey gestures to the suits in the back.
Tony opens his mouth, but near bites his tongue off as a wave of agony that had been creeping up on him suddenly washes in fast and hard, like a rising tide all at once. He nearly gasps—revealing himself to Rhodey—but catches himself. Though he most likely has gone very pale.
“They’re gonna take your suits, Tony, okay? They’re sick of the games. You said nobody else would possess this technology for 20 years. Well, guess what? Somebody else had it yesterday. It’s not theoretical anymore.”
Tony suddenly wants to throw his head back and plead to the gods he doesn’t believe in, it must show on his face because suddenly Rhodey’s there with worried eyes and a caring voice, “Are you listening to me? Are you okay?”
With a shaky almost sigh, Tony moves, “Let’s go.”
Though the line falls flat because as he gets out of the car, he falls. You know, like an idiot. An Idiot in pain.
Rhodey catches him. because, of course, he does. Damn him.
“Hey, man. Hey, hey! You alright?” Tony’s still moving though, he’s gotta get to the desk, it’s his only hope. His last mission.
“Yeah, I should—” He near wheezes, “—get to my desk.” Rhodey supports him and lowers him into his chair, “See that cigar box?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s palladium,” Tony breathes with effort as Rhodey shuffles around. Twisting his reactor up and out, Tony braces it on his fingertips, holding it out to Rhodey. For a moment, he’s proud he barely hesitates.
“Is that supposed to be smoking?” Rhodey asks, pointing at it with worried eyes.
Tony pants, “If you must know, it’s neutron damage. It’s from the reactor wall.”
As Rhodey removes the core, he examines it, “You had this in your body?” He exclaims, “And how about the high-tech crossword puzzle on your neck?”
Tony pauses, “Road rash. Thank you.” He mumbles as he replaces Arc Reactor and starts drinking green liquid chloroform.
He’s so just tired. The words Vanko said to him in the prison keep repeating in his head. The pain rocks from bursts of everlasting agony to a dull ache, leaving him exhausted.
“What are you looking at?” He asks, trying to maintain the epitome of casual.
“I’m looking at you.” Tony squeezes his eyes shut at that, and sips his concoction to keep from saying anything. For a moment, Tony entertains the idea of telling, sharing that. He thinks how he would have to watch as one of the most important people in his life have to come to terms with his inevitable passing that’s soon to come.
He doesn’t know if he can do that.
“You wanna do this whole lone gunslinger act and it’s unnecessary. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Tony cuts in, “You know, I wish I could believe that. I really do. But you’ve gotta trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Rhodey doesn’t look impressed, and his eyes flit to the aquarium on the back wall.
“ Ehem , Giovanni?” He raises an eyebrow. Tony huffs, knowing that moment of vulnerability is gone and the window has closed.
“You love him, that doesn’t count.”
Tony thinks he sees something flit across Rhodey’s face, something too soft to be fond.
But then, Giovanni swoops in from one of the pipes and splats himself onto the glass in his form of hello. The moment passes once again, and Rhodey rolls his eyes fondly as Tony stands ‘next’ to Giovanni and makes fishy faces into the glass.
“Natasha will remain a floater at Stark with her cover intact.” Fury says, and childishly, Tony imagines the man tripping on his dramatic coat. “You remember Agent Coulson, right?”
Tony sniffs, “Yeah,” wanting to—once again—childishly stick his tongue out at the Agent. Sue him, he’s dying . The dramatics are warranted, in his opinion.
“And Tony, remember, I got my eye on you.”
Doesn’t the pirate have anything better to do, like he’s only got one eye?
Natalie—or Agent Romanoff, or Natasha, or whatever the fuck her name is—states, “We’ve disabled all communications. No contact with the outside world. Good luck.” She adds as she leaves.
Tony wants to throw something at her smug face. He’s trying to keep the irrational hot red fury— ha — at the forefront to burn out the icy cold of betrayal that's creeping upon him.
Tony turns to Coulson, clasping his hands as he tries— tries —to stride past the man, but he feels as though he staggers instead, “Please. First thing, I need a little bodywork. I’ll put in a little time at the lab. If we could send one of your goon squad down to The Coffee Bean, Cross Creek, for a Starbucks run, or something like that, that’d be nice.”
Agent Coulson smiles, “I’m not here for that. I’ve been authorized by Director Fury to use any means necessary to keep you on-premises. If you attempt to leave or play any games, I will tase you and watch Supernanny while you drool into the carpet. Okay?”
Tony flippantly waves the comment off—ignoring the flash of panic at the idea of that with the reactor—, “I think I got it, yeah.”
“Enjoy your evening’s entertainment,” Coulson says as he leaves.
Tony looks at the box that has been left for him, and cocks his head.
“Oh my God! I can’t take this anymore.” Pepper exclaims, rubbing her eyes vigorously. Her hair settles down from being whipped in the wind.
“You can’t—?”
“I can’t take this!”
“Look at me!” Tony’s eyebrows furrow as he gestures to himself.
Pepper gestures wildly, her hands practically fanning herself, “My body, literally , cannot handle the stress.”
Tony opens his mouth—incredulous—to interject but Pepper keeps ranting, “I never know if you’re gonna kill yourself or—or wreak the whole company.”
Tony gestures behind himself, “I think I did okay!” Behind him, everything may or may not be fire and exploding drones. Something else explodes audibly just as he finishes speaking.
Pepper sighs, “I quit! I’m resigning. That’s it.”
Tony freezes, “What did you just say? You’re done?”
For a split second, Tony aches, not unlike how it was with the palladium core. Before the taste of coconuts became a permanent fixture as a result of the new core, when breathing was a game of how to do it right. A numb cold highlights the ache and spreads as he swallows.
“That’s surprising. No, it’s not surprising,” he shakes his head, “I get it. You don’t have to make excuses.
“I’m— I’m—I’m not making any excuses.” Pepper stammers.
“You actually were just making excuses,” Tony points out but then he backtracks again, “But you don’t have to.”
Pepper walks closer to him, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, “No, I wasn’t making an excuse. I’m actually very justified.”
Tony has a slightly daunting realization that this might be the end for him and Pepper, and he reaches for her hand, “Listen—Hey—hey—You deserve better—”
“Well—”
“—You’ve taken such good care of me. I’ve been in a tough spot, but you got me through it, so—Right?”
“Thank you.”
Tony swallows and looks away, “Yeah,”
Pepper continues, “Thank you for understanding.”
Swallowing back a sigh, Tony nods and looks back at her, “Yeah—yeah—Let’s talk clean-up.”
Pepper flits her eyes from his eyes to his lips, “I’ll handle the transition. It’ll be smooth.”
Tony furrows his eyebrows again, “Okay,” Is he reading the room wrong? “What about the press?—” They keep shuffling closer, and the questions that were rising in the back of his mind have moved to the forefront.
“—Because you only had the job for a week. That’s gonna seem—”
“Well, with you it’s like dog years—”
“—I know—”
“—I mean, it’s like the Presidency—”
Fuck it.
When they kissed, it was frantic and raw. A scrape of teeth before smooth lips upon near bitten ones. The skyline was ablaze—quite literally—as they kissed on the rooftop.
Pepper pulled back, and Tony cocked his head to the side, “Weird.”
Pepper shook her head, “No, it’s not weird,” she breathes.
“It’s okay, right?” Tony stammers as they lean back in, and Pepper nods, breathing out a ‘ yeah ’ against his lips.
“Run that by me again,” He mumbles, as he moves to kiss again.
“I think it was weird,” A recognizable voice cuts in, and they startle away from each other. Turning, they see Rhodey sitting them with his hands on his knees, the silver war machine armor catching in the moonlight, “You guys look like two seals fighting over a grape.”
Pepper hooked a thumb behind her, “I had just quit, actually—”
“—Yeah, so we’re not—” Tony stammered.
Rhodey smirks, “You don’t have to do that. I heard the whole thing.”
Tony points to him, “You—You should get lost—”
“I was here first! Get a roof.”
Classic Rhodey. Tony laughs, “I thought you were out of one-liners.”
Rhodey scrunches his nose, “That’s the last one.”
“You kicked ass back there, by the way.”
“Thank you. You too. Listen—”
Pepper looks back and forth between the two, then sighs. Shaking her head with a smile, she cuts in before they could continue, “If you two are going to keep flirting, I can just go.”
“Wha—Pep—Flirting?” Tony stammers.
“I mean—” Rhodey looks back and forth, “That’s not—”
“—Unless—?” Tony says before he can stop himself.
Rhodey looks at him sharply, “Unless what, Tony?”
“I mean—Like—you know?” He makes an aborted motion, and Rhodey makes a face. What face, you ask? Well, Tony can’t filter it, because his mind is blue-screening dangerously.
They both look to Pepper. She fondly shakes her head then gives them a look, one that’s approving and adoring all at once.
“Right um—” Tony clears his throat, “I have a son waiting at home so—?”
“Excuse you, that’s our son,” Rhodey scoffs.
Pepper rolls her eyes, “Let’s go home, boys.”
And they do.