Chapter Text
Tony had been here before…but this time it was different. He knows the signs of organ failure: the heavy weakness of his limbs, the fight to not lose consciousness. He felt as if he were experiencing those harrowing months of heavy metal poisoning in the span of a few minutes. He’s memorized how his heart stutters as it tries in vain to keep beating. He’s no stranger to all of this; he’s tasted the same cold fear before, and yet, it was different.
He couldn’t feel the frantic beating of his heart in his chest. Tony realized with a sickening sort of dread that his heart wasn’t fighting against death as they had always done. This was no longer a partnership. This battle to stay alive is completely one-sided, and Tony’s already lost. His heart is tired, aching, and weary. With every breath he takes, he can feel it stuttering out, slipping into a slower rhythm, and simply waiting for him to let go.
As his vision faded in and out, he could see everyone's expressions of grief. There wasn’t silence, but the air wasn’t filled with frantic pleas for him to hold on or rushed movements to get him to a hospital. What was audible was the soft sound of his gasps as he tried to get air into his lungs. From his murky vision, he saw his teammates falling to their knees, one after the other, and Tony wanted to sob even though his body could no longer produce the tears or the energy. What followed broke his heart worse than anything else ever could.
Peter was right there suddenly, and as much as Tony wanted to grab the boy into a hug, it was an effort to shift his eyes to him. Slowly, Rhodey grabbed the boy and allowed him to sob into his chest while he tried in vain to calm the kid down. He wasn’t doing a good job, not while trying to choke back his own sorrow. Tony had seen Rhodey cry a handful of times in his life, but none had tugged at his heartstrings the way it did now. Like Tony, Rhodey had become particularly talented at the art of crying silently. It was a skill earned through trial and error, through pain and loss, and through suffering in silence. Tony knew he had been some of the cause of those tears, so it shouldn’t have been as harrowing, but he didn’t want his last time seeing his brother to be him crying. As much as Tony wanted to tell him it was okay, he couldn’t get his mouth to form the words he so desperately wanted to speak.
Then, there was Pep. Her blue eyes filled with silent tears, and even as he lay dying, Tony couldn’t help but notice how they glistened and glittered as if the literal stars decided to make her irises home. Even as she cried, Virginia Stark was the most beautiful woman Tony ever had the pleasure of being around, and he thanked the universe for allowing him the chance to have her as his wife. She was there for the worst and best moments of Tony’s life, and he was glad that she was here for his last. While he had already lost feeling in most of his body, the sensation of Pep's hands running through his hair was the one he could feel. It was a tactic she often used when he was panicking too much to hear her words. Her nails scraped gently across his scalp, and Tony had to fight to keep his eyes from closing in bliss. He knew that if he closed his eyes now, they were never going to open again, and he didn’t want the last thing he saw to be darkness. He wanted to look into the eyes of the love of his life before his ended.
"You can rest now," Pep whispered, her breath ghosting over his skin; her voice wobbled despite her trying to keep it steady, and Tony wanted to cry. She was letting him go, and she shouldn’t have to. He didn't want her to. He didn’t want to rest, not like this. He wanted to live. He wanted to see his children grow up; he wanted to experience that bliss he had in those 5 years for the rest of his life.
And yet, here he was, seconds away from leaving the ones he cared about the most. You'd think the universe would give him a break after everything he's been through and everything he's done and given up. After Afghanistan and Stane, there was Vanko and New York, Mandarin, Ultron, Germany, and Siberia, and eventually the shitstorm that happened 5 years ago. You'd think it'd be enough. Why should he give up his life when he's already given up so much?
The worst part was that he couldn't regret the actions that led him here. Everything he’d been through, all the mistakes he’d made, the betrayal, the loss, the overwhelming happiness he’s experienced—he can’t find it in his heart to regret it. Nonetheless, it was a bittersweet ending, one that left him feeling unfulfilled and wrung completely dry. And yet, when he remembered that Peter stood a few steps ahead of him, not happy or whole but so wonderfully alive, it made everything slightly less painful. Peter was a strong kid with a steady foundation; he’d be okay. Perhaps not today, but Tony knew this wouldn't be the thing to break him. He couldn’t regret it even while knowing he’s left Morgan with one parent; she knew he loved her more than anything. So no, he couldn't feel bad about it, but he knew if he could, he'd carry the resentment with him wherever his soul led him.
Peter told him that they had won.
They did, but he didn’t.
Pepper told him he could rest.
He will, but he didn’t want to.
Still, he couldn’t prevent the moment his heart decided it was tired of waiting.
With his last breath, he wished for a chance to make it right.
Do it; he can fix it.
The question is, should we allow him to, or do we choose someone else?
If anyone can, he will.
He can’t do it alone.
Then let him choose.