Sunday, August 23, 2020

New MCU Story: Three Cheers... (PG-13) (Part Six)

Three Cheers for the Great Outdoors, Part Six


Summary:

By the summer of 2019, Tony had fought terrorists, Asgardian gods, space leviathans, Hydra goons, supersoldiers, and giant purple aliens with delusions of grandeur — and had narrowly cheated death every time.

This story isn’t about one of those epic battles, though. This story is about that time Mother Nature tried to kill him — and how Tony dealt with the aftermath.

(Did I dream up this scenario as an excuse to write Tony whump? Why yes, yes I did.)

(In case you missed it: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five)


--*--

VI

 

Pepper thought she’d timed her visit perfectly. 

 

While sharing a quiet dinner with Tony the evening before, she’d heard the on-duty nurse rattle off the upcoming therapy schedule for Tony’s benefit. Respiratory, of course, was still coming in every four hours to help Tony bring up the fluid that lingered in his scarred and battered lungs. Physical therapy was taking him for a walk shortly after lunch. And Occupational, interestingly enough, had decided to take advantage of Tony’s convalescence to address the long-standing nerve pain in his left arm and hand. It was a pretty full plate; nonetheless, Pepper assumed she could stop by during a free period in the late afternoon to spend some time with her recovering husband — and do what she could to alleviate his ennui.

 

Thus, when she walked into Tony’s room at the appointed hour and found it empty, she immediately dropped her umbrella and her bags and headed straight for the nurses’ station.

 

“According to this,” said the RN manning the counter, gesturing to the bank of screens beside him, “Mr. Stark is right where he should be.”

 

“No, he isn’t,” Pepper repeated, doing her best to remain composed. “I was just in there.”

 

Don’t panic, she thought as the young man scrambled for the phone, his eyes wide.

 

In addition to throwing a stack of non-disclosure agreements on the hospital administrator’s desk to keep any excessively curious reporters at bay, Pepper had also ordered Happy to post one of his Stark details at the hospital for Tony’s protection. Years of experience - and several kidnappings - had taught her, after all, not to leave Tony exposed when he was at his weakest, for it was at those times that his numerous enemies preferred to strike. 

 

No: with Hap’s well-trained men in place, it was unlikely that Tony was off the hospital premises. But the question remained: where did he go? And how had he managed to outsmart his monitor? As Pepper watched local and Stark security assemble in the hallway outside Tony’s room, she privately resolved to read Tony the riot act once she'd tracked him down.

 

--*--

 

“Tony, what are you doing here?”

It hadn’t been long before Pepper found her wayward partner in an infrequently-trafficked rear stairwell. Tony was huddled on the landing between the second and third floor, his back pressed against the wall, his forehead on his knees. On hearing Pepper’s voice, he lifted his bloodshot eyes — and immediately grimaced, chagrined. “Sorry.”

 

Beside Pepper, Dan toggled his radio on and broadcasted the all’s well. “Michaels here. We’ve got him. Call off the dogs.” 

 

Nodding her thanks at Happy’s third, Pepper crouched down beside Tony with a slightly exasperated sigh. “You know, you almost gave the charge nurse a coronary. And honestly, I’m not even going to ask you what you did to your holter — or how. What were you thinking?”

 

“Sorry,” Tony muttered again. “Just wanted to practice the stairs on my own.” Then he glared, suddenly furious. No, Pepper’s inner voice amended. Self-conscious. “Contrary to popular belief, I know how to find my way back. Third floor. Four doorways from the stairway. Then a turn. Then six more doorways. I’m not a complete dumbass.”

 

“Okay,” Pepper replied, placating. She pressed the back of her hand against Tony’s dirty and sweat-smeared cheek. “So why aren’t you back in your room?”

 

“I —” Tony swallowed thickly and looked away. “I slipped. There was a puddle, and I didn’t —” He stiffened, turtling his shoulders. “I fucked up my wrist and my knee, and now I can’t —”

 

“And you didn’t yell for help?”

 

“I was thinking about it,” Tony gritted, his expression flinty, his anger and embarrassment at a barely controlled simmer. 

 

“But you didn’t want anyone to know about your little act of sabotage.” Tony’s tight-lipped refusal to respond was all the confirmation Pepper needed. “Tony.”

 

“I know.”

 

Pepper reached for the hand Tony was protectively cradling against his chest and gingerly pushed back his sleeve. His left wrist was swollen and purpling — and obviously tender if Tony’s whispered imprecations were anything to go by. They’ll probably have to take him down for an x-ray. 

 

“Son of a bitch.”

 

“I’m sorry, Tony. I won’t touch it anymore. But can I look at your knee?”

 

Tony gnawed hard on his lower lip, but he didn’t resist as Pepper rolled up his pant leg to take note of the equally spectacular abrasions that decorated his right knee. “Okay,” she said once she’d finished her once-over, her tone brisk and business-like. “Do you think you can make it to the third floor if Dan and I support your weight?”

 

Tony hesitated briefly — then nodded.

 

--*--

 

One trip to radiology, a couple of Ace bandages, and a few stern lectures later, Pepper helped Tony clean up and change into a fresh set of PJ’s, smiling warmly as she smoothed out the wrinkles. “I’ve never seen this particular t-shirt before.”

 

“Which one is it?”

 

“It says, ‘I’m a dad and an engineer. Nothing scares me.’”

 

“Oh. Rhodey gave that to me as a joke last month.”

 

“Well, I think it’s perfect,” Pepper concluded, punctuating her judgment by kissing the top of Tony's head, then busying herself with arranging his pillows so he could keep his bruised knee elevated. “Unless Rhodey can find a shirt that says, ‘I’m my wife’s favorite idiot.’ In that case, I think I’d have to crown a new winner.”

 

“Would you like an ‘I’m with stupid’ shirt in your size?” Tony asked ruefully. “FRIDAY can have it shipped by tomorrow.”

 

Chuckling, Pepper squeezed herself next to Tony and rested her hand on his stomach. “No. But I would like to know why you took such a risk today.”

 

“I didn’t think it was a risk. I’d already done it six other times.”

 

“So you’ve been sneaking out since —”

 

“Wednesday. The last time Rhodey was here.”

 

“Hmm. But I’m guessing the idea was all yours.”

 

“You know me so well.” Tony wrapped his arm around Pepper’s shoulder, nuzzled his face in her hair, and fell silent.

 

Pepper started tracing comforting swirls on Tony’s chest. “We’re still just fine, you know. Your daughter and I. You don’t have to push yourself so hard.” 

 

When Tony tensed beneath her touch, Pepper knew she had hit her target.

 

“The past few months —” she continued. “You’ve been such a hero with Morgan. And I mean that. You’ve been so involved. So affectionate. We’ve been lucky to have you. And if you have to dial back on some of your daddy duties for a while because of this - because you need time to get better - it’s okay. I don’t think Morgan will adore you any less. And I know I won’t.”

 

Pepper felt a slight tremor skitter through Tony’s muscles. Disentangling herself from her husband’s embrace, she sat up and bracketed his face with her two palms. “You heard me, right? We will always love you. Whatever it is you think you need to prove — you’ve already proven it a million times over.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony said, blinking rapidly, his words strangled by emotion. “I heard you.”

 

“Good.” Pepper rubbed his chest again and settled back down by his side.


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