"Play it again, Friday..." Pepper's voice rasped, raw and tortured after the Avengers finally defeated Thanos and brought universe back to order...though at a cost.
Of course, Miss Potts," the AI responded, rather sadly...either because it was nearly the hundredth time playing the same video, or because she felt the same - if she could feel.
Tony's voice spoke over the audio display on the desktop in their home office, the one she used regularly at the compound since the war between Tony and Steve began. It had probably been about an hour since she had shut herself in the room, but she needed it...today of all days, she desperately needed this.
"Day eleven, test 37, configuration 2.0," Stark read off, his longer hair falling in his face as he readied the few shells of armor that he had started with so long ago...about fifteen years ago, in fact. "For lack of a better option, Dummy is still on fire safety. If you douse me again, and I'm not on fire, I'm donating you to a city college."
Pepper smiled faintly as he repeated that very familiar line, but her eyes still held that now familiar longing.
"All right, nice and easy," Stark went on, taking a flight stance. "Seriously, just gonna start off with one percent thrust capacity. And three, two, one..."
"Pause," Pepper managed, and the AI stopped it before she could watch him wreck himself into the ceiling.
Yeah, he was fine. She knew he'd be fine. But not after what her eyes had witnessed just a few days prior. Not now.
"Play it again," she whispered next, reaching out to trace the screen over his paused face before the AI rewound it and started from the beginning.
"Day eleven, test 37, configuration 2.0. For lack of a better option, Dummy is still on fire safety."
Pepper closed her eyes tightly, listening to the sound of his voice as she clutched onto the necklace she was wearing with one hand; the one he had given her, made from the shrapnel that once surrounded his heart. To the raspy deepness that radiated from him. The voice she heard on TV, on the phone, in her ear most nights and mornings after they started sharing a bed. The voice she took for granted and thought nothing of until it was gone.
"If you douse me again, and I'm not on fire, I'm donating you to a city college."
Her mouth spoke the words as Tony did on the video feed, knowing it by heart now. She smiled lightly through her broken heart and an escaped tear from her red eyes as she tried to put herself back into her shoes fifteen years ago. Hell, just back three or four days ago, even.
Until she was met with thumping feet and a small human appeared in the doorway, wandering toward her in front of Happy, who trailed not far behind.
"Mommy?" the small child questioned as she made her way toward the desk.
Happy frowned from the door frame when Pepper frantically instructed Friday to stop the feed and mute, tapping the screen of the desktop hurriedly as she tried to hide the windows and inconspicuously wipe the tear from her cheek at the same time.
"I'm sorry, Pep," Happy spoke softly, earning a nod from the red head as she swiveled in her chair to turn toward the child, who was now tugging at the bottom of her black dress. "I tried to get her to stay with Rhodey, but-"
"It's okay," she managed, reaching down to run her hand through the girl's soft, dark hair...too familiar for comfort. "Hey, baby..."
"Mommy, where's daddy?" the five year old girl asked, her dark eyes looking up.
Pepper's heart tore again, as it had been for a while, when their familiar chocolate color burned into her own with that same, needing look her father had always given her. Biting her lip to fight back the rest of the water in her eyes, she smoothed down the child's hair again for comfort and swallowed down what she could of her emotions.
"He's on a mission, sweetheart..." she lied. "A very, very important mission."
"Is he coming back soon?" she asked innocently, making matters worse. "He promised to teach me how to read that book about Captain America."
Leaning down, Pepper planted a kiss on top of her head and lingered for a moment, holding onto that small picture in her mind.
"How about uncle Rhodey teaches you for now. What do ya say?"
The girl hesitated, then finally nodded slowly. "Okay..." she murmured, thinking. "Then I'll surprise daddy and read it to him!"
Pepper's eyes closed, desperately trying to stay strong for her daughter...their daughter. "He'll be so surprised," she whispered, barely audible.
And then she was standing, ushering the small girl out before her heels, which clicked on the floor. Passing the TV in the corner of the room, she noticed the headline: Memorial service held for Tony Stark yesterday in preparation for private ceremony this afternoon.
"Off," Pepper instructed, suddenly more angry than upset, and Friday responded accordingly.
When she followed the skipping little girl into the shared main halls, she flashed a silent thank you to Happy, who was giving up going to make sure Morgan didn't have to witness her break down. Then, she met Rhodey at the glass doors, her eyes flashing down at her black heels for a moment, waiting for Happy to disappear down the hall with Morgan out of sight.
"Ready?" she heard Tony's friend ask after a second of silence, and she looked back up with watery eyes.
"How is someone ever ready for something like this?" she whispered back. Then, "do you know where we're going?"
"Same place I used to drag him when I made him visit his parents," Rhodey confirmed.
He kicked his shoe off the ground, thinking, as Pepper tried to control herself again, waves of sadness trying to drag her down and drown her before she even got there. But his next words were what broke her. What broke them both, before they even set foot outside.
"You think he's with em?"
And that's when she gasped out in a sort of choke, when the tears started pouring and her face scrunched up in agony. That's when Pepper collapsed into Rhodey's arms, gripping him for dear life. She thought of his dorky morning giggle when he tried to claim five more minutes of sleep in her neck, the way his eyes danced when he explained the sudden idea he came up with that also involved tinkering in the shop, the smirk on the photo he set as his contact photo in her phone the day she surprised him with a random selfie of the two of them together after one of their first real dates. And that's all she had. Photos. Memories. Ghosts. And then she was sobbing, probably ruining his suit jacket, but she didn't care. All she wanted was Tony. Her Tony. Their Tony. The Tony she never appreciated as much as she was right now.
"I miss him so much," she squeaked finally, her words muffled into his shoulder. "God, Rhodey...bring him back, please...bring him back."
And when she started begging and he only hugged her tighter in response, unable to stay steady himself, she knew it would take a very, very long time to feel okay again. For any of them. And one day, Morgan would ask and she'd have to explain...but right now, she couldn't.
Right now, she had a funeral to go to.