3934/Get some REST.

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Get some REST.
Date of Scene: 05 February 2018
Location: Avengers Medical Lab.
Synopsis: Pepper and Tony speak after Tony's surgery.
Cast of Characters: Iron Man, Pepper Potts




Iron Man has posed:
The bundle of news for Pepper is bizarre. In the afternoon today, of February 5th, a medical emergency occurred in the Avengers Mansion: Tony collapsed, while in the presence of Bruce Wayne. Supposedly, Tony had been in the Iron Man armor for a few hours previous, using it in some manner to stay stable, but when he removed the armor, he fell unconscious and vital signs crashed. Wayne assisted briefly to help as much as he could to get Tony on medical support, then left once Tony was moved: he was taken to the medical bay, and Dr. McCoy arrived rapidly to do an emergency procedure, with several assistants via remote.

The procedure took hours. And the danger was very, very real.

There were some complications. There were blood clots that had been causing additional problems in Tony's upper chest and lungs, and the dangerous procedure took a very long time dealing with those in addition to all of the other difficulties. That Tony had avoided treatment for so long was clearly evident in the variety of bonus troubleshooting that had to be done. It included a full replacement of his poisoned blood, among other things, but the casing of the Arc node reactor was replaced entirely with the new one. The reactor itself is still the old model, as the new one is locked away in Stark Tower.

Tony hasn't been awake yet. It's been about 9 hours. He has a myriad of cables and tubes all over his upper torso: leads into and around the reactor and the heavily discolored skin and flesh there, some IVs into right arm, and the various functions of the high tech 'bed' itself, which already looks like something of an iron lung. Tony has been a rough shade of gray. He's off of the assisted breathing, at least, but hasn't yet proven he's capable of being awake.

Pepper Potts has posed:
On the outside, Pepper has been nothing but a dream during it all. Coordinating anything needed from the tower, carefully controlling any rumors that might be getting out to the press, delaying any meetings he might have foolishly wanted to have by several weeks, putting things off of her own calendar, ensuring that the business is ready to run itself for several days (or longer) if needed, and answering what questions a few of the Avengers might have with obtuse but honest information. She has been a dream of efficiency, as ever, to the outside world.

Interally, she hasn't stopped screaming since he collapsed.

She spent as much time out side of the operating theater as possible, between coordinating the business, but she always came back to waiting. When they let her into the room with him? She hasn't moved since. The first several hours were spent directing traffic and business remotely, but eventually even she ran out of work to do. Then she read to him. A chapter of her favourite book. A chapter of what she thought might be his. The article about him from People magazine last year. Anything she could find. She begged and prayed to some god she didn't even know she believed in. She cried. But she waited. And, about twenty minutes ago, her body finally gave up. Even the seemingly super human Pepper can only go so long. So, she's sunk down at his side. Her arm stretched out beside his, her hand cupped over his cool palm, her cheek resting on the mattress beside his shoulder. She's dead asleep, holding loosely onto him and waiting.

Iron Man has posed:
Even when barely conscious, Tony is disruptive. His little beeping machines change their tune as his heart rate and breathing changes. Still with eyes closed, he wrinkles his nose and tosses one hand sideways, shoving one of the monitors that was over his chest and head FLYING. He's suddenly sitting up, against part of the restraint, the gray turned to absolute white pallor as he reacts in extreme disorientation.

Tony is back in that cave, and the raw smell of medicine and metal shrieks in his nose and mind. His hands jerk inwards towards his chest, expecting the huge battery nearby and the cold leads slithering out along his ribcage. Terror bucks and he's unable to breathe, trying to deal with the drugged haze of panic. Sensation rushes out of his hands and legs: he couldn't stand if he wanted to, but that doesn't mean he won't fight and try, gagging, and coughing up from the injured stress through throat and lungs from the ordeal of the surgery.

He's too weak to do more than that, which makes the panic mount: he's in that cave and going to die.

Pepper Potts has posed:
So much for sleep. It wasn't restful anyway. The moment Tony starts moving and fighting, Pepper jerks herself awake with a sharp breath inwards. "Tony!" She half yelps, her worried voice cutting across the sound of crying monitors. She reaches her fingertips up, trying to reach for his struggling hands. One she catches, the other she reaches her fingertips to his cheek instead, trying to soothe and wake him at the same moment. "Tony! You're safe! Tony, it's me...It's Pepper. You're safe, please, breathe... breathe with me. Please."

Iron Man has posed:
He smells like sweat and fear, blood and disinfectants. His fingers are particularly icy as she grips them, sensation gone from them as his reaction truly revved up. He can't really even fumble to pull at the leads due to the stress reaction his body is going through.

However, Pepper's fingers on his face and cheek bring greater success. His eyes are then open, although similarly alarmed and not at all present in the room with her at first. But then she registers, and his dark eyes focus, wet from a mix of the panic and sweat. But he registers on her and gags out a breath, and then does make a real effort to breathe with her, letting his head rock backwards, throat exposed. A deep breath. And then, voice very deep and ragged: "I..." a pause. "Told you I'd be fine," Tony says.

Pepper Potts has posed:
While she'd like to give a smart remark in tone, she's too busy actually just trying to coach him to breathe. Another deep breath in, slower this time, and then out again. He doesn't even get one of her signature smirks with that comment, but her fingertips carefully trace over the cold sweat of his cheek, her the pad of her thumb across the edge of his jaw, "Hey...yes, well... Take another breath and maybe I'll start believing it." She mutters quietly, before running him through another slow inhale and exhale. Her green eyes glimmer with tears that she hasn't quite spent, not daring to let them across her lashes, but she's on the edge of crying never the less.

Iron Man has posed:
"And you're crying with dismay that you aren't rid of me? That's what I wake up to?" Tony admonishes her, but there's no real weight at all to it, just a sort of flat little /attempt/ to try to be himself. There's a gentle undertone in it that is an aftermath of the panic. A panic he's now doing his best to push away and close back down inside himself. He manages to drag his right hand, IV and all, kind of up to her, with absolutely zero finesse, and attempts to sort of draw her head in towards him. "C'mere, I'm not made of glass," Tony says, voice stronger now as he gets his bearings. It isn't for a kiss, but it has an intimate intensity of pulling her close, maybe towards his neck and shoulder.

Pepper Potts has posed:
A breathy, faint laugh escapes her lips which is as edged with tears as her eyes are. But she it's a laugh, at least. "I'm...not crying. It'd mess up my eyeliner." She teases back with a glimmer of her normal self coming through also. But then his hand is coming up, trying to pull her in towards him, and she comes immediately. She doesn't want him to shift any more than he has to. Fortunately slim, and the bed is generous for a hospital bed, she slips up onto the edge of that bed to almost sit next to him, but she's slipping into his grasp as well. It's not a kiss. This is so much more than a kiss, and was so much more needed. She half buries herself into his throat and shoulder, wrapping her now free hand across his stomach and over his ribs. It's almost a hug, but more intimate and a touch more desperate. "...glass would be easier to fix than you are." She whispers against his neck. ANd a touch of that dampness which she insists hasn't been cried, well, it follows.

Iron Man has posed:
"If 'easy' is a priority for you, /man/ are you in the wrong bed," Tony replies with a small laugh that degrades into an actually really painful series of coughs. But he settles. "Don't be funny, it hurts." A pause. "I'm talking to myself. You're fine." Tony is a little bit high, and it is showing on the edges.

But that means he is in less pain, and it's making him as chatty as he actually is. He does decide to reduce his moving, though, carefully adjusting his shoulderblades in the bed and just letting his muscles go lax. His arm with the IV adjusts from her head to hook the fingers on her raised shoulder, though. He turns his head to set his chin against her forehead. It says a lot more than whatever nonsense is coming out of him verbally next, no doubt.

"You're fine as-is." ....or perhaps not nonsense.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Part of Pepper is certain a nurse is going to be charging through that door any moment, pulling her away from him to check vitals and probably help with that cough, but she doesn't get up yet. She's going to take every last moment wrapped up against him as possible. She turns her head up, just enough to kiss against the stubble of his cheek, on that edge of his goatee. She takes a deep breath of his sweat and stale, disinfectant scent. She doesn't care -- it's him.

"I'm fine and you are high as a kite but... you... You will be fine. They... got all the worst of it out. They couldn't replace the reactor because, dammit, you weren't near home and it wasn't anywhere close in time... but they got all the... toxic stuff out of you now. You're fine..." For now. She didn't have the heart to add that, even if it hung in the air. Her arm tightened against his ribs just a big more, a firm, tender squeeze as she tucks her nose into his neck. "...I love you. God, you scared me." The words just come spilling out before she can stop them. Maybe he doesn't hear. Maybe her whisper was too buried in his neck.

Iron Man has posed:
"I--," Tony informs her, lifting the hand that's resting on her shoulder, "--Can change out the /reactor/ like, like that," Finger snap against her upper arm from those fingers. Barely. It's a sad snap, but he just had major surgery. "It was the casing-- that makes it feel like the Hulk is sitting on my chest again." Again. He doesn't know about the complications, obviously, so he's saying what he does know.

When she turns her head to kiss his unshaven upper cheek, he has his eyes closed, saving all the energy he can, since she wasn't looking at his face, far as he could tell.

But he heard her last comments. Or did he? He's not sure how high he actually is. "Evvvverybody loves me, yep," Tony hears himself say, "--but you can call me 'Tony', not 'God,'" Tony says. He heard. He just can't seem to be a functional person about it. The feels - he can't manage them, and in rolls the humor, defensively.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Well, at least she didn't make it more awkward. Pepper's breath stops for just a few moments, on the edge of his skin and more words she wants to say, but a faint, aching laugh just escapes her lips against his chin. "...I know. Well... you still need to rest up so you can go back to being God... or Tony, or whatever you want to be called. Go back to sleep. Heal up. I...I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." She promises softly against his jaw, not daring to pick her head up again so he can't see the array of emotions on her face. The biggest is relief, in truth... but there are so many others.

Iron Man has posed:
"Naaaah, I don't need to sleep," Tony says, in his usual manner. If nothing else he's done or said really screams of Tony and their little negotiations, this one does. Particularly with the drug in his system making him extra amiable yet somehow impossibly harder to convince to do anything.

"/You're/ going to worry I'm dead again," Tony reminds her. "You know, I think if I did die, I'd really miss you," Tony adds, similarly quietly to her own soft promise of tone, moving just a bit to settle his cheek on her head, his breathing even. Funny little truths of his own squished amid jokes and sarcasm? Yes, absolutely.

Pepper Potts has posed:
"...then I guess you simply can't die, and we won't have to worry about it." Pepper rasps out gently against his neck, tucking her head a bit closer, her soft hair brushing up against his cheek as he rests himself there. He can, if he's able to feel much of anything, sense a few inches of tension relax out of her shoulders and body. She exhales slowly and just relaxes into him. Somehow, she's gotten a touch more up on the bed. SHe's no longer just leaning, but completely stretched out at his side, her legs pressed against the outside of his thigh, her small body totally tucked into the crook of his neck. "...but sleep you could do. I promise not to worry... Too much. We both need the sleep."

Iron Man has posed:
"Definitely not, unless you scheduled death on my agenda and didn't tell me," Tony answers with better cheer, that causes the little laugh again that hurts, and he coughs into it, a bit better this time. He can feel her against him, can sense a good deal from it, despite his pain, because even if he's just a carnival of verbal bullshit, he is leaning on her emotionally. Not that he'd realize it or even tell her if he did realize it.

"Do you feel like we have ... an expiration date with this?" Tony asks, uncomfortably, in the same voice he's asked her if things were too weird. Shadow of the blue dress. "Instead of ... a real date." Something Clint said lingered with him. Is she afraid that he will turn away once he's healthy again? And... WILL he?

Pepper Potts has posed:
"...If you promise me you're not dying... We sure as hell have no expiration date, Tony. Because...that's the only way this ends. I'm here otherwise. I'm not going anywhere. I've been here for the worst...I sure as hell hope, some day, we get some of the best too. I'll be waiting until then... helping you along the way. Then... then we finally get that date. And a lot more, I hope." She's the one who just rambled out her feelings in a spill of words he maybe... MAYBE won't even remember in the morning. She might as well be honest about the rest of it. She turns her head up just enough to press a soft kiss against the edge of his mouth. "But... getting to that better means rest. Trusting in Dr. McCoy... taking it easy. So, do that for me, will you?"

Iron Man has posed:
Tony is listening to her. Sort of. He's having a rainbow time in the drugs, which beep a little, feeding more in. But he's coherent: at least for a few more moments, to listen. Major surgery, it turns out, is somewhat effective at making Tony less chatty. Not quiet, /less/.

Tony angles his hand off her shoulder and seeks out under her cheek, to kiss her mouth. It's exhausted, but he really /wanted/ to, so he put the energy into it. His head drops back just afterward, and he swallows. "I can survive anything, Pep," Tony says with confidence. "/You/... are the one-- to actually --sleep," he says, smiling a little. "Here's fine. I'll make sure ...YOU sleep," Tony murmers. And the drugs and exhaustion takes him, into his own rest, his head and arm across her relaxed as he finally does rest.