Chapter Text
The steady beeping and hissing of the medical equipment was the only thing breaking the silence of the room. In any other occasion it would have been just a suffused, background noise. A typical hospital noise.
Hospital noises were supposed to be easy to tune out. They were supposed to be low and non-threatening. But this time, the noise was almost unbearable.
Because this time, it was the noise of Tony fighting for his life.
The phone call Pepper had received almost three days ago from a distressed Friday was still replaying over and over in her brain: "I've lost the Boss! Mark 46 is offline! Last known location: Siberia-"
Pepper hadn't listened to how the AI had continued. She was pretty sure Friday had given her coordinates, latitude and longitude, followed by a complete chart of Tony's vitals moments before the armor had shut down.
Friday had followed her protocols: as soon as the suit had gone offline, she had contacted Rhodey, Happy, Vision and Pepper. All had received the same call. But there wasn't much Pepper or Happy could do. Or Rhodey, as it turned out.
That was how Pepper had first learned of Rhodey's injuries at Leipzig. He had been hit by friendly fire. While fighting those who were supposed to be his teammates.
While Pepper was still trying to understand what the hell was going on, Vision had mercifully taken matters in his own hands: he had gone to Ross, trying to be authorized for a rescue mission.
And that absolute scumbag had refused.
He said Tony had violated the Accords by entering Siberia without authorization. He had even had the nerve to threaten legal actions against him for his behaviour. Vision had replied rather hotly for his standards: he reminded the Secretary he was the one who had put Tony in that situation. He had given Tony thirty-six hours to apprehend Rogers. Going to Siberia had probably been Iron Man's last ditch effort to get to the Captain before the time was up. Ross had been cowed out of pressing charges, but it was clear that if they wanted to rescue Tony, they were on their own.
Pepper didn't understand how a man could be so callous. Tony's life was on the line; he could already be dead, and Ross just kept on stalling. She didn't know if he was refusing to help out of spite for Tony or out of spite for the Avengers as a whole, or if he was trying to make them say 'we'll owe you if you help us'. Quite frankly, she didn't care.
She was CEO of the biggest tech company on Earth. Dealing with dirty politics and dirtier politicians was half her job, and she was good at it. Unbelievably good. She ate power hungry fuckers like Ross for breakfast on a daily basis. So she sidestepped him entirely and brought the question directly to the Accords Committee at the United Nations. The rescue mission had been approved in less than two hours. Almost a record, but it had still been time-consuming. At this point, Tony had already been missing for more than nineteen hours.
And it had been exactly twenty-two hours and forty-one minutes since the suit had gone offline, when the rescue party, led by Vision and Pepper herself, had found him.
Tony was lying against a column of that hideous bunker. His armor was utterly destroyed: the helmet laid in pieces not far from him, and a horizontal gash on his chest plate had cut the Arc reactor clean in half. Next to the helmet, about three feet from it, was Captain America's shield, face up and scratched by what looked like claw marks.
Pepper didn't notice any of it.
She ran straight to Tony, falling on her knees right beside him. His face was covered in blood, his eyes closed and his head bowed uselessly to the side like a broken puppet. My God, what happened here?
That had been how they had ended up in this limbo. Back at the Compound, with Tony unconscious in a bed of the infirmary and hooked up to all sorts of machines. Machines that were making that incredibly obnoxious noise.
It was supposed to be easier if they weren't together. It was supposed not to hurt as much to see Tony like this. Instead here they were. That noise was still grating annoyingly at Pepper's ears. She thought she might go crazy.
Friday's announcement came almost as a godsend: "Miss Potts, Doctor Cho is here."
Relief and dread hit her at the same time with equal force: "Thank you, Friday."
***
Helen Cho was not good at poker. Her face was as easy to read as an open book. And Pepper had to fight hard to avoid falling apart completely at what she was reading.
"It's bad, Pepper."
No shit, Sherlock. "Define 'bad', please."
Helen hesitated. She was avoiding eye contact. Pepper could practically hear the words before they actually came out of her mouth: "I don't think he's gonna make it."
Pepper felt a knot form in her throat, so big it was almost crushing her windpipe and stopping her from breathing. But she had to know. She kept her eyes on Helen, willing, almost daring her to look her in the eye and continue. In the end, Helen did:
"Whatever hit disabled the suit also caused an extended blunt force trauma to his chest. Five broken ribs, three right and two left. The right lung collapsed in the process..."
'Whatever hit disabled the suit'. Yeah, right, Helen hadn't been there. She hadn't seen the cut on the chest plate that was a perfect match to that vibranium shield laying five feet from Tony.
"His heart apparently has also sustained some damage, and you know what that means. It was already weakened to start with, what with all the surgeries he's undergone, the palladium poisoning and the shrapnel."
Pepper wanted to scream.
"There are also all the hits to his head. He had a major concussion that led to a cerebral edema. And then the frostbite. His toes and fingers were somehow protected by the suit, but his head was completely exposed-"
"So there's nothing that can be done?" Pepper interrupted. She couldn't stand that damage report anymore.
Again, Helen hesitated: "Not with the standard procedures."
This time, Pepper hesitated too: "Extremis" she whispered.
"It's pretty much our only option" concluded Helen with finality in her voice.
Extremis as it was first conceived seemed like something straight out of hell. People blew up with the force of a ballistic missile. But Tony was never one to back down from a challenge.
He had found the way to stabilize the serum when he had cured her. He just wanted to remove it from her body, but somehow he had ended up with a fully functioning super soldier serum that was possibly even superior to Erskine's. After all, he had said it himself: he fixed stuff.
"What would happen to him if we go down that road?" Pepper asked, tired.
Helen, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten some enthusiasm back: "He's not going to blow up in flames, if that's what you're worried about. He's managed to fix all those side effects completely. But he will be... different."
Pepper didn't like where this was going. She knew Tony wouldn't like it either: "So super strenght? Speed?"
"In all probability" Helen explained. "You've had Extremis almost completely removed from your system, it's so diluted in you that it's been rendered completely inert. But in Tony's case, we will have to use a much higher concentration if we want to save him. So yes, he's going to be stronger and faster. He's not going to be able to melt things or breathe fire the way Killian and his goons did, and tissue regeneration will be significantly curtailed too. It would probably take him a week to regrow a pinky finger whereas Killian was able to regrow an entire forearm in seconds. But yes, he will most likely be able to give Steve Rogers a run for his money even out of the suit."
Pepper smiled tiredly: "Tony has never wanted this kind of power," she said, shaking her head, "he used the lowest Extremis concentration possible when he took the reactor out of his chest. Rhodey asked him why, once..."
Helen seemed confused. Pepper continued: "Tony answered he didn't want to be a super soldier. His father wanted him to be like Captain America. Tony didn't want to. Not spiritually and not physically."
Helen leaned forward and took one of Pepper's hands in her own: "I understand that. Really, I do. But it's not about Howard anymore, and it's not even about Rogers. This is Tony's life we're talking about."
Pepper collected herself: "how long does he have?"
"Hard to say. A week, probably. Two, at most."
"My God..." Pepper whispered, bowing her head.
"It's your call, Pepper. Tony made it so. He trusts you to take this decision for him in case he can't. I'm just telling you our options."
She knew that. She also knew Tony wouldn't like it. He had fought all his life, not to be influenced by Howard first and Steve after. Howard had wanted his son to be good, compassionte, restrained, with an impeccable moral compass and sense of honor. Not just like Captain America, but his spitting image.
Tony hadn't disagreed with those values, he had just wanted to choose his own path.
He didn't want to be like Captain America. He wanted to be his own person. And that meant he also didn't want to be just another super soldier.
But now, the alternative was simply unacceptable.
"Do it" Pepper said. Then she stood up and left, never looking back.
***
She was back with him, when the last of the five injections was being administered. Helen herself had been the one injecting the serum. Now Tony was hooked up to a bag containing an orange liquid, labeled 'Extr. V-4'. It wasn't fiery and glowing like the original. It could almost pass for plasma or vitamins.
She took his hand in hers: "I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so sorry we have to do this to you..."
She knew this wasn't how Tony would have wanted to be saved. For a moment, she wondered if she wasn't just being selfish, if she was just forcing Tony to live not because he wanted to, but because she didn't want him to die. She just didn't know.
She knew what had happened in Siberia, however.
In that bunker, they hadn't just found Tony. They had also found five dead bodies, each contained in a cryo-chamber, and tons of documents and videos.
One specific VHS had been in a record player in the same room of the cryo-chambers. It was labeled December 16, 1991.
Pepper had thrown up after seeing that video. If Tony had seen it too, it was obvious what had happened next. Of course, Friday had confirmed it.
She couldn't wrap her head around it. How was it possible? How could Steve do that to Tony, after all Tony had done for him?
Captain America was supposed to be the paragon of virtue, truth and justice. Instead, he had used Tony, belittled him, blamed him for things out of his control, and then he had had the nerve to lie to his face about something so important. Not satisfied, he had beaten Tony within an inch of his life and left him to die in that hellish place.
Tony thought of Steve as a friend.
Howard had thought of Steve as a friend.
She couldn't even begin to understand, but she knew one thing: she hated Steve Rogers. She hated him with every fiber of her being.
And now she also understood why Tony abhorred the idea of being like him. Which brought her back to the original problem: was it right to force Extremis on Tony?
Maybe not, but the circumstances had left her no choice. Extremis was not how Tony would have wanted to be saved... but he would have wanted to be saved. They had gone over this after the palladium poisoning: Tony had never been suicidal, even though he hadn't really cared how long he would have survived after accepting that the palladium in the reactor was slowly killing him.
She kissed his forehead: "Rest, Tony. You're safe now. I got you." Then she kissed him again, stood up and settled herself on the bed next to him.
She was just about to fall asleep when she saw his eyes open.
They were glowing orange.