Three Cheers for the Great Outdoors, Conclusion
(In case you missed it: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five //
Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight // Part Nine)
--*--
X
Summer transitioned into fall, the days began to shorten, and Tony
— was managing. After his technological misadventure, he stepped up his
meetings with Dr. Nolan and the local AA chapter and, with help, started to
settle, his borderline mania easing as he adjusted to his new routine.
Pepper was proud of him. But of course, that wasn’t new.
Smiling, she reached down and lightly traced her finger along a
streak of grey that ran through Tony’s hair above his right ear. She was
enjoying this rare chance to watch her husband sleep, his face slack, his
calloused hands clutching his pillow for dear life. He looked — soft.
Almost — adorable. And truth be told, she didn’t want this moment
to end. Alas, it was approaching ten in the morning, and Tony had a follow-up
with his nephrologist at noon, so — “Tony?”
Tony blinked once lazily at Pepper’s shake and groaned.
“Time to get dressed.”
“Do we have to?”
“Hmm. Well —” Pepper scooted in beside Tony and planted a quick
kiss on his lips. “I suppose I could drag you to Dr. Stearns’
office in your boxers. But then what would people on Twitter say?”
“Don’t care,” Tony said, his eyes still closed. “Too comfortable.”
“Oh?” Pepper snaked her hands under the blanket and started to
tickle Tony under his ribs. “What about now?”
Tony jumped — then sat up, sporting a glare that was only half
serious. “You — are a devil woman. Get ready for instant
revenge!”
It was the loud crow of Tony’s rooster outside that ultimately
stopped the silly wrestling match.
“See? Even Cluck Norris wants you to get your butt in gear,”
Pepper teased, knowing she’d won.
Pinned beneath her on top of their now thoroughly tousled sheets,
Tony pouted. “Okay, okay. Let me up. I surrender.”
Pepper obliged, releasing Tony’s wrists and backing up off the
bed.
“It isn’t fair, though,” Tony insisted, feigning offense.
“What? That you’re ticklish and I’m not?”
“Exactly. That was a clear abuse of —”
Then Tony stopped. Blinked once. Twice.
“Pep?” He stepped towards her, uncharacteristically hesitant, and
seized the hem of her blouse, rubbing his thumbs on the silk. “Your shirt,” he
breathed. “It’s — it’s blue?”
Pepper’s stomach fluttered. “Yeah, it is. You can see that?”
“Yeah.” Tony’s eyes shined. “Yeah, I can.”
--*--
Tony’s vision came back in degrees. After the color came a slow,
slow improvement of the resolution that gradually brought back facial
expressions and microcircuits and veins on brilliant maple leaves. By
mid-October, Tony was still prone to killer eyestrain headaches if he read or
did close, intricate work for too long, but otherwise — he was back. He was
well and truly back.
And it was just in time. A week before Halloween, Morgan sat up on
her own — and Tony saw every single detail of her triumphant
smile. Thank God. Thank fucking God.
--*--
“All things considered, I think I did okay.”
All things considered, Rhodey agreed. “Yeah, I’ll give you that.
If this had happened a few years ago, I’m sure you would’ve spun yourself into
a coma before too long.”
“Like I said: growth!”
Halloween had dawned clear and bright, so Rhodey and Tony were
eating brunch on the porch with this year’s jack o'lantern — which, Tony made
sure, was twice as large and hideous as the one he’d carved after his last
brush with death.
“You gonna take Morgan trick-or-treating later?”
“Pepper thinks she might be too young to appreciate it, but sure,
why not? Angel Girl brought her the best costume the other day. Why shouldn’t
Morguna get a chance to show it off?” Tony set down his glass of water. “But
there’s something else I want to do first.”
“Yeah?” Rhodey recognized what Tony’s change in posture and
expression meant and was instantly suspicious.
“I want to race you to Niagara Falls.”
Rhodey grinned. “You’re on, rugrat. Go get your armor so I can
kick your ass.”
--*--
Though Tony probably could’ve piloted his suit even
without his sight with FRIDAY’s assistance, he’d agreed to stay grounded for
the duration of his recovery out of an abundance of caution. After all, if he’d
been hit by a surprise EMP in the middle of a joyride (or a trip to Mt.
Washington), he would’ve been totally screwed.
Thus, the moment he kicked on his boot jets and shot through the
forest canopy, Tony laughed in open delight — and immediately forgot the reason
for his flight. After a long few months spent stuck on terra firma, it was a
relief to return to the sky. Here, he was whole. Here, he was at home.
High on adrenaline, Tony pushed and pushed, rocketing ever upward
until he’d punched through a fair-weather cumulus cloud and cleared the
tropopause. Then he turned three somersaults and dove back down towards the
hills below, hot on Rhodey’s tail.
“Show off,” Rhodey radioed.
“Damn, that feels good!” Tony whooped in reply. And with that, he
climbed in altitude again, this time to execute a barrel roll.
Miles later, after they’d splashed through their designated finish
line, they touched down on the American shore and waved at the Maid of the
Mist, which, amazingly enough, was still in operation despite the recent
decrease in demand. A tiny group of blue-clad passengers leaned over the side
of the boat and waved back, applauding the unexpected show.
Rhodey retracted his faceplate. “Pretty sure I won again.”
“Pretty sure it was a tie.”
And then? Then Tony was overcome. He wasn’t sure where it came
from, the sudden flood of emotion — but very briefly, it stole his ability to
speak.
“Hey. You all right, Tones?”
Tony gazed out at the falls, taking in the rainbows that glittered
in their spray.
“Yeah. Always,” he finally said with complete and utter sincerity.
If there was one thing he’d learned,
it was that he’d never stop being the Invincible Iron Man in the ways that
truly mattered. No matter what fate may throw in his direction, he would always
be the same: a hero, genius, father — and survivor.
The End
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