f2020 | Beauty I'd always missed with these eyes

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Beauty I'd always missed with these eyes | Closed

WHO: High Chancellor Stark and Pepper Potts
WHERE: The White City
WHEN: Following the Gala
WHAT: Iron Man welcomes Rescue to TWT. Technically that's true.
WARNINGS: Language, identity crises, tragic reunions...

The White City still shines at night, bright enough to see over the black waters of the Gulf, a neon jewel rising as a symbol of hope, or perhaps a shout of sheer defiance to its silent neighbor: due east, the rest of Florida lies dark and dead under the canopy of the Deathdome, the Porter at the ruins of that far coastline running ceaselessly as latecomers are steadily drawn into this world, strangers soon to make their way across the globe. A weather alert pings in his HUD, the satellite images of some nameless storm churning far out in the Atlantic, projected to hit land in a handful of days with no one alive to meet it. In the past they might have sent imPorts to disperse them if the Porter risked a direct hit, before they learned the dome devoured everything, even the massive, deathly vortex of a hurricane.

Stark does have things to do, really, more than clearing his head through this impromptu flight. There's always the endless list of action items to accomplish prior to a Synod, tasks to see to the bitter end, whenever that truly happens. Rey will strike when she sees fit, and he must be ready for her.

...okay, seriously. Enough dicking around.

He feels it ahead of the alarm of sensors as he returns to land, the murmur of a system in the distant vicinity, a system he knows as surely as himself- and doesn't, all the same, bright and chatty amid the streamlined cacophony of electronic input. There's a suit of armor out here, touring the bright skyline, and it isn't one of his. The four Legion droids that flank him shoot forward at a thought, thrusters burning:

Intercept.

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Stark let his fingers fan out at her waist, dancing lightly over each seam and plate, feeling the power humming strong through the nerve-like structures of each connected, microscopic nanite. Tracing the "RESCUE" printed boldly across one aileron, and the "0049" on the opposite, he smiles faintly behind her back, bittersweet, stupid, romantic bastard.

"Sure, I can take a look." Skimming the surface tells him a lot, but it's not enough; he wants to know every detail, every line of code. Drifting his other hand to her opposite shoulder, he lets himself drift too, a cold mental plunge into the suit's processor and further, inhabiting it completely as he still stands behind Pepper.

That's it, sweetheart, tell me everything.

Normally this is quick, the work of an instant, but this is also his creation. Delving deep, poring through analytics, test runs, flight logs, video– wait– -snippets flicker past, some enormous, nameless conflict, and others still:

Happy, carrying a tearful little girl with dark hair, one small pinky wrapped around Pepper's armored one. He misses what's said, for the sudden, bizarre buzzing sensation between his ears. Back further- a week, two? Less? And the scene is different still, strange and...short? A white tent, a small pink and blue table, the hum of a child's voice as she concocts some wild adventure with herself and–

"Morgoona. Morgan H. Stark-" -his voice, this other him in this other life, cheery and warm and leaning in for a quick kiss.

The entire tableau plays out in the span of nanoseconds in the real world, as Stark goes from silence to recoil, a snap back, jolted into himself so fast he's already striding away from Pepper before he realizes what he's doing. Retreating, from a life that isn't his and now never could be, the sudden welling of heartache so sharp he staggers in its wake.

Edited 2020-09-12 19:51 (UTC)

It's an oddly charged moment. Pepper can't really feel such a light touch through the armor, she knows that intellectually-- and yet... it's almost as if her skin prickles anyway when his fingers fan along the curve of her waist, tracing, brushing, learning every seam and interlocking plate. There's something strangely sultry about it, and for a moment she feels guilty; but is wrong if it's still Tony? Even if not hers.

Pepper has no idea just how intimately he truly does learn it, and far more besides. Private things and memories she hasn't yet even thought of speaking about with this Stark (and maybe never would have) in this onrush of new and confusing issues this world is still throwing at her.

Then all of the sudden he jolts, staggers even, pulling back and... fleeing, inexplicably. At least that's what it looks like to Pepper, whose heart leaps in abrupt fear. Don't leave me alone, flashes through her head sooner than she can fully comprehend it. Her Tony or no, he is at least someone she knows, someone she (hopes) she can trust in this strange place.

She hurries to follow him, boots clacking against the platform under her feet. "Tony! Wait. What's wrong?"

"Don't-" he cuts in sharply before he realizes, softening because she's owed it, she's owed more than anything he can offer to her here, now, pulling up short so he can turn back to her with his heart is still ringing in his ears. "I'm not your husband, Pepper. I'm not. You have- no idea what I've done to build this city, what I've aided and abetted to get where I am now."

"The best thing that you can do for yourself, for him and for your daughter right here, right now, is go. Run. There is nothing I can do to protect you, not anymore."

"H-how did you...?" Pepper backtracks a step, brought up short by his words. How could he know about Morgan? For a moment, a pain-laden confusion is at the forefront in her mind. But a moment later, it gets pushed aside in favor of simple... anger. No, suddenly she is furious. How fucking dare he? Her expression shutters even as her nostrils flare a little as her breathing picks up, jaw clenching as she grits her teeth.

"You think I don't know that?" When she finally speaks, her voice is so chilly it could freeze the Arctic. She starts out soft enough, but every word spilling from her lips is more weighty, just a little more fervent. "You think that I'm not looking at you right now, sounding and looking every inch like my Tony, and not know with painful clarity that you're not him? Do you think I want to be here?"

She waves a gauntleted arm in a sharp, angry movement, haphazardly indicating their surroundings.

"I left my daughter behind to join my husband in battle because something a million times worse than whatever petty turf war is going on here was on its way. I made a promise to my little girl that we'd be back soon, without knowing if that was true. I did it because I had to. And instead, I somehow end up here."

Something bitter twists at her expression. "So instead of lecturing me about things I already know, Mr. High Chancellor, tell me instead how to get the hell out of here, back home. You can be sure I'll be gone before you even know it!"

"If I knew that, do you think I'd still be here?"

For Pepper's cold, chilly fervor, Stark returns her volley with simmering heat, walking back to stand toe to toe with her.

"I've spent the last ten years trying to get home. Trying to get all of us home, every imPort on this whole godforsaken rock. Nothing. Works. I've built the Porter so many times I could do it in my sleep, but it doesn't. matter. You could disappear home tomorrow, or you could be here for ten years, just like me. I'm sorry, Pepper."

Pepper doesn't quail for a second, doesn't budge an inch. If anything, she meets his stormy gaze head on, chin tipping up assertively like it always does when they go a few verbal rounds-- not that they'd fought like this with her Tony in years, now. Her blue eyes narrow, but the spear point of her anger is starting to dull, mixing with dread slowly creeping in.

"So, that's it, then? Sorry, but you're shit out of luck? That's all you have?"

It's not her usual style to use language like that, but she thinks she's allowed this once. She wants to rail against his claims, but deep down she knows Tony Stark in any universe wouldn't leave a single stone unturned.

"That's... " She shakes her head, and her smile is an ugly, bitter thing, sharp with disappointment and nameless fear she desperately tries to strike down. "Fantastic."

"Yeah."

Under the ebbing tide of his anger, there's just the shame, prickly and exhausting. He failed, failed to get anyone home, failed to stay true even to his own ideals. Stark rubs absently at the center of his chest, the odd little self-soothing he shares with her Tony, and sighs.

"Might as well make peace with it now, before you start tearing yourself apart for a pipe dream. I wish-" whew, his voice catches, taut against the lump in his throat, "I wish I had more to offer you, I really do."

Pepper remains silent for a long while, expression inscrutable save for a faint flicker of... pity, perhaps, at his summation. Exhaling a soft breath, she shakes her head slightly and turns away, taking a few steps closer to the edge of the platform, staring out at the gleaming city without really seeing it. She turns her head just a little to be heard when she finally speaks, even if her gaze never leaves the glimmering cityscape.

"I'm sorry you've been here for so long, alone." Without anybody from home, she means. "I'm sorry for what this place has done to you. I really am." Made you into might be more accurate, but it sounds so harsh. But it's evident to her even outside of the fact that he's not her Tony that there's an edge, a hardness to him she finds difficult to reconcile with any iteration of Tony Stark. Maybe she's just being naive. Maybe it's denial. She doesn't know. Her shoulders jump visibly as she inhales and exhales deeply, battling a sudden wave of despair.

"But I can't just-- I can't give up right out of the gate. I can't fail my family like that." That's the one thing she does know. And that she really, really abhors this place already.

Edited (typos n' things) 2020-09-13 10:20 (UTC)

Pity is the last thing he wants- needs, really -to see on her face, so he looks away, closing his eyes, unmoving until she steps away.

"...things are changing." He's worked hard to keep the status quo as it is, to keep the White City strong against its enemies, without and within, but the last week- hell, the last twenty-four hours -have shown him how quickly everything can crumble. Joining Pepper at the platform's edge, the city breeze carding through his hair, Stark pulls in a slow, steadying breath.

"In a handful of days, there's a chance I won't even be here anymore." He turns toward her, insistence in his posture, his tone, "You need to not be here, too. See if you can find Jane Foster, she defected only a few hours ago and might be on her way to Krakoa."

Pepper is quiet until he gets to that piece of information. She turns her head sharply to stare at him, startling just slightly; what does he mean by that? And, wait-- Jane Foster is here? She files the news away, and the mention of this Krakoa, but her immediate attention is on what came before.

"What? What do you mean by that?" She returns his insistence with her own, a deep frown knitting at her brows and concern worming its way through her. She has a sinking feeling he's not talking about a sudden vacation or a business trip.

He meets her question with a straightforwardly impassive look. What do you think I mean?

"In the meantime, JOCASTA will transmit you coordinates to a randomized safe-house somewhere in the city. I can't know where you are. If you want to keep fighting, getting caught by my wife isn't going to help."

Pepper gives him a look right back, a flat stare. The kind Tony's been on the receiving end from her too many times to count, probably.

"So, the stuff you're going through is... your wife is -- literally -- out to kill you?" She breathes an incredulous half-laugh with no actual mirth involved. "You sure know how to pick 'em, Mr. Stark."

Okay, no, she's not here to judge. (Much.) Shaking a head, she turns more serious and forges on. "Come with me. There's a whole world out there to disappear into, I assume."

What can he say? Stark doesn't know how much Morgan takes after him, with the look of fondly mild exasperation he gives Pepper, an expression she typically focused on her dad.

Searching Pepper's face, he steps closer, quick to kiss her cheek. "No. "

The expression on his face is so much like Morgan's just then that Pepper is almost overwhelmed with longing and heartache, blinking rapidly a few times to get rid of the hot sting of sudden tears, closing them entirely for a moment at the kiss to her cheek.

Her voice is soft when she insists, "You can't be planning to stay. Why are you risking yourself like this?"

"Would he stay, or would he run?"

It's unexpectedly tough, seeing her so briefly, knowing what he knows now, and having to usher her away. There's no future left for him here, not with her, and she can't survive this place if she tethers herself to him. In the end, he knows, he has to finish what he started, wherever it may lead.

That's unfair. Totally below the belt, and it effectively robs Pepper of whatever counterargument she may have had chambered up and ready to go. It shows on her expression as well, a pained grimace with a hint of exasperation flickering across her face.

"I would disagree with him, too. Vehemently."

A-ha. If only he could feel any kind of victory in that, and not the temptation, however small, to ask her to stay. It'll help nothing, so he just smiles tightly, eyes shining.

"See? I know what I'm about."

"Ugh," Pepper huffs quietly and glances down at her feet, the noise caught between reluctant amusement and mild exasperation. "You're... infuriating."

Just like her husband. Her smile is wan when she lifts her gaze again. "And you're not gonna change your mind, are you?"

The inflection of a question is there, but she already knows the answer, betrayed by the calm acceptance in her eyes.

That's precisely the Pepper he remembers, the woman he could annoy and amuse with the same statement. God, he has so many regrets, so much he should have done back then.

"Not a chance, Miss Potts." Pause, then a thoughtful correction, "Mrs. Potts. Stark-Potts- did you hyphenate, how did that work out–" And also so like him, to get caught on that, stalling for just one more fraction of time.

It's so him to get caught up in a detail like that. Pepper's heart squeezes and lines are blurred-- for a moment, there's just Tony. Just the man she loves. She breathes a watery little laugh, helplessly endeared...

and leans in to kiss him before she completely realizes what she's doing.

Her lips press against his for a couple of seconds, lingering long enough to be evident before she pulls away, looking a little wide-eyed and taken aback. "Oh! Sorry, I..." What? She doesn't even know.

Shock colors his expression, eyes wide for the sudden press of her mouth to his, melting so briefly beneath her warmth, her taste, her touch until it's gone.. Even as Pepper draws away, he'd like to pursue, and stops himself, settling his hands at her waist.

"Now we're really delving into cliche," Stark tells her, even as he smiles, and it's his turn to be fondly exasperated. "And you gotta go."

Common sense returns quickly to her after that. Come on, Potts. Don't go kissing your husband's lookalikes... or alternate universe versions of him, rather. Something like that.

"Yeah, I know," she agrees, lips tugging into a hint of a wry smile now. "Don't sue me over a goodbye kiss."

She just decided that in the last few seconds, but it works. More seriously, she adds, "Be careful. And don't tell me you're always careful, you probably aren't even if you think you are. Call it a hunch."

He offers up a briefly flat look that really doesn't have much of an impact, not when there's the too-familiar gleam of affection in his eyes. His next smile manages to be slightly chastened, thoughtful, while he searches her face again, as if committing her to memory.

"...Goodbye, Pepper."

This time, he doesn't linger, calling his suit to him without a second thought.

The small smile Pepper gives him in return is sad, even if there's a similar warmth in her own gaze, silent as he watches her. This has been a surreal night, and Pepper is kind of dreading how it will unfold after they separate. She doesn't know how she's going to navigate this strange world, but she can't hang her hopes on this facsimile of her husband, either. Suppose she does need to try to find Jane Foster and map out her options going forward. It's her turn to watch him when he calls the suit to him, swallowing a bit thickly at the goodbye; it's hard not to hear anyone else in those words but her own Tony.

Tearing off the band-aid, she lets the helmet of her own suit pull back over her head, the eyes glowing bright blue as the HUD comes online. "Goodbye, Tony." Be safe.

Assuming she doesn't have to worry about the Legion droids this time, she fires up the repulsors and lifts off the platform with a bright flare of thrusters, taking back to the skies with a heavy heart.

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Beauty I'd always missed with these eyes | Closed

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