Because I can't get enough

[agilebrit]

of the BadWrong...

I wrote a followup to this. What is it about this fandom that makes me need to write the same scene from multiple viewpoints?

Title: Seeking Normal
Author: babies stole my dingo (agilebrit)
Fandom: Iron Man (movieverse)
Rating: NC-17, overall. PG-13, this part, I think.
Length: Short story (this part, about 1200 words; about 3700 overall)
Disclaimer: Marvel owns, just playing, so not mine and no way am I making money from this.
Feedback: Concrit adored! If you see something that can be improved upon, please let me know, even if it's only a typo.
Written for: My own sadistic pleasure, if you can call it that--sparked by a discussion here that sent my brain spiraling out of control. pensive1, sunnyd_lite, and quite a few others on my flist and elsewhere aided and abetted me through it.
Warnings: None for this part, other than standard angst, trauma, and Hurt with very little Comfort.
Summary: Tony tries for normalcy again, two weeks after getting home from Afghanistan. It...doesn't work. At all. This scene takes off from the midpoint of the first part, Pepper's POV. She gets a call...

---

The ringing phone jerks me out of a sound sleep. I look at the clock and moan; only one person would be calling me at this hour. "Tony, what--" I start muzzily.

"Miss Potts, you'd better come." That's not the voice I expected, and suddenly I'm wide awake.

"Jarvis? What's wrong?" An icy tendril of fear coils up in my stomach.

I could swear that the AI hesitates. "He is fastened to the bed and, from my readings of his vital signs, in a very agitated state."

"Fastened to the..." Two weeks, I think. That didn't take long. "I'm on my way."

I throw my slacks and a blouse on and grab the first pair of shoes that comes to hand, the black Manolos with the four-inch heels and the open sides. Jarvis sounds uncharacteristically disturbed, and I break several traffic laws on my way to Tony's house.

I've uncuffed him from the bed before, of course. Usually he has cheeky commentary and a cheekier grin, and he has the grace to send me a bouquet of daisies or a box of See's chocolate or something for putting up with that afterwards. I don't make any remarks, because it's not my place, and we don't discuss his...proclivities.

This time...

I stop short in the doorway of the bedroom he reserves for activities like this, and my hand goes involuntarily to my mouth. No wonder Jarvis was concerned. Tony's wrists are handcuffed to the headboard, his ankles are tied with...are those silk ropes? Whatever they are, he's tied to the footboard with them, and he's gagged and blindfolded and covered in scrapes and red welts. He's been bleeding, although it's mostly dried. I hate it when he uses the damn vampire gloves.

This is nothing new.

What's new is the fact that he's sweating and shaking and breathing way faster than can possibly be good for him. The glow of the arc reactor throws everything into harsh relief, and I don't need Jarvis to turn the lights up because I can see all I need to. More than I want to.

My professionalism wars with my concern. I want nothing more than to gather him in my arms and kiss his hair and tell him it's going to be all right, even though that would clearly be a gigantic lie and I'm a terrible liar. But we've never had that sort of relationship--I hadn't even hugged him, for Heaven's sake, when he'd come back from Afghanistan.

So I sit on the edge of the bed and gently remove the gag and the blindfold, and his eyes are wide and terrified and my heart cracks out of my chest to see him this way. "Where are the keys?" I ask, but he's not up to talking yet, so I untie the ropes from his ankles. He half-rolls onto his side and curls around himself as much as he can. "Jarvis?"

"Top drawer," Jarvis says promptly, and I find them right there and unlock the cuffs. Tony pulls his arms into his chest and closes his eyes, and his breathing gradually eases but is far from normal. My breathing isn't normal either, and there's an uncomfortable tremor in the core of my chest.

My hand reaches out, seemingly of its own accord, for his hair, but I pull it back. "Shh," I say, and he hunches in tighter on himself and covers his head, as if someone just kicked him. I flinch, myself, and make a noise in my throat, but I have to get him up before we both fall apart. Before he falls apart more. "Come on, Tony, let's get you out of here and into your own bed."

It's a couple of tries before he visibly pulls himself together enough to get up. He's completely naked--who knows where his clothes are--and I carefully keep my eyes above chest level. I take him by the elbow with two fingers and lead him to the room he sleeps in, the room no one else is allowed to enter without express permission, and pull the covers back to let him collapse onto the sheets. Tucking the blanket around his shoulders and (again) refraining from stroking his hair before turning to go, I say, "Will that be all, Mr.--"

He doesn't let me finish. "Stay." His voice is raspy, exhausted. I wonder what he's just been through and decide I don't want to know the particulars.

I stop and look at him, and he squeezes his eyes shut. I'm trying to be reasonable, and failing, because I don't actually want to leave him like this, but don't feel it's my place to stay. "Tony, it's one thirty in the--"

"Please." And that's a word that never, ever comes out of his mouth, and it lets me know just how far off the end of his rope he's fallen tonight. Maybe he brought this on himself, and maybe it's one more insane mess I'm cleaning up after, but I'm damned if I can just abandon him here--his expression is equal parts lost, bewildered, and wrecked, and I can feel it mirrored on my own face...which, thankfully, is in shadow, so he wouldn't see it even if his eyes were open.

So I sigh to cover my own devastation and drag the chair up beside the bed. I take my shoes off, drop them on the floor, and tuck my feet under me, and, once again, don't stroke his hair and don't kiss him better and don't hug him, because that's not the kind of relationship we have. I settle for "Go to sleep, Tony."

He doesn't say anything more, and eventually his breathing approaches normal, and I can tell he's finally dropped off, so my breathing can go back to normal too. I sit with him awhile, long enough to figure he's down for the count, and then pick my shoes up and head home.

But before I do, I put my hand on his hair, very softly, and blow a shaky breath out. "Oh, Tony."

xXx

I pull into the driveway the next morning at seven to find a pile of burnt embers off to one side of it, still smoldering. I recognize the outlines of the bedside table from his "fun room," and my lips tighten.

But there's a huge bouquet of three dozen long-stemmed blue roses and a pair of Louboutins from next season and the biggest box of Godiva chocolate I've ever seen on the table I work from in the living room.

And when I take him his espresso at eight thirty and give him his first stack of papers to sign, neither of us says a word.

end

X-posted to tonypepper.

Comments

[andi88.livejournal.com]

Hehe I want a boss like Tony, hot and super generous.

Great take, I like the different POV.

'So I sit on the edge of the bed and gently remove the gag and the blindfold, and his eyes are wide and terrified and my heart cracks out of my chest to see him this way.'

So much visuals there. I imagine his eyes are huge and scared ala the couch scene at the end of the movie.

The way you describe their close, but notsoclose relationship here it makes me think of the "this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing" or something along those lines line from the movie. I keep thinking they must have the most awkward relationship because she's obviously seen him in a very intimate way. I just wonder how it was the first time...

There should be a way to submit ideas to the writers for the movie and be like "please put this in the movie. flashback scene. no? random deep scene. no? fine, just film it and send it to my priavte address. no? pleeeaase." lol

Anyways, another great entry to this story. Me like.

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

Oh, you know she uncuffed him from the bed, probably more than once, before Afghanistan. But it would be a whole new vibe, afterwards. Someone, I think it might have been 4persephone, had a line in one of her fics that had Tony saying "Don't even joke about tying me to the bed." Because this is what happens when you do.

[andi88.livejournal.com]

That line sends all kinds of inappropriate ideas to my head.

So wrong to want to be Pepper at that moment, uncomfortableness and all....

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

*beats plot bunny off with a stick*

Because, of course, the other scenario is where the BDSM doesn't go wrong, she doesn't try to trigger his PTSD and he enjoys the hell out of it...and then Pepper comes in the next morning and finds him with that sated, cheeky grin...

And then she jumps his bones.

[andi88.livejournal.com]

Hahaha *feeds carrot*.

"No, don't look, just avert your eyes. Agh! Why does he always put me in this predicament. Look at him, all proud, grinning at me, practically inviting me in. NO! I can't think that, this has to stay strictly professional. I should just leave him here, but oh look at him..."

lol, my mind goes total fangirl when I think of that scenario.

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

"And I did have to wear this blouse today that shows some cleavage, oh my god, he's half hard just looking at me..."

"A little help, Miss Potts?" His eyes flicked downward.

GAH. NO. STOPPIT.

*puts fingers in ears and thinks dead clones in the sand, dead clones in the sand, dead clones in the sand...*

[andi88.livejournal.com]

AHH!!! You can't run from this.

'A little help? Does he mean? Oh God...'

"You know Mr. Stark if you want me to untie you, I suggest you keep the remarks to a minimum"

"Who said I wanted you to untie me?" He looks up at her, that cheeky grin still plastered on his face.

She swallows unable to find a response.

"You know I can tell you're enjoying this Pepper you're...blushing."

'he sees right through me. why did I come here again?'

"Come on Ms. Potts" he snaps back her attention, "give me a hand here."

He wriggles his body pretending to be innocently talking about the cuffs.

'damn this man's going to kill me'

hahaha, I got a bit carried away. this story is just writing itself.

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

*snerks*

But, no.

I have a novel to edit. I do. *nods firmly*

Now, if I could get Word to install, that'd be peachy. *glares at CD drive, which apparently likes my DVDs just fine but has taken a dislike to the CDs*

[andi88.livejournal.com]

I shall leave you to your editing then.

I will however try to work on this story tomorrow with some time...it won't leave me and I have to no life! LOL

No promises though.

*sendsyourcddrivegoodthoughtstohelpyouout*

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

ARGH. It started to install it, and then crapped out halfway through. *cries* New computers, man...

[magicamethyst80.livejournal.com]

Ah, thank you, love reading this from Pepper's perspective now. Like getting an idea of what was going through her mind when she found Tony, and knowing her reasoning as to why she left while he was sleeping.

Supposed to snow this weekend up where I am, hopefully there will be some good fics popping up.

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Yeah, I don't know what it is about Iron Man where everything I write has to be from both perspectives, but there you go.

Seems like no one's updating much anymore. *sadface*

[magicamethyst80.livejournal.com]

Love the idea of doing something from the perspective of two different characters, it is something I haven't seen done in fanfiction before, and is done a lot, by a number of authors in this fandom.

You are updating, and veldeia has something in the works. I also keep finding bits of h/c here, there and everywhere.

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

Well, me updating is relative. I got a plot bunny this time that wouldn't let go until I wrote it, but I don't actually set out to write fanfic anymore. This is, of course, subject to change if the plot bunnies bite again, but I rather hope they don't, as I have stuff I'd rather write that I can, you know, make money from. ;)

[magicamethyst80.livejournal.com]

Plot bunnies can be annoying that way, but at least you have the type of plot bunnies where you can make money! You are very lucky for that.

No bunnies here for quite awhile. Every once in awhile they sneak up, but they are for obscure fandoms, or crossovers between relatively obscure fandoms, where sitting down and writing them can be cumbersome.

[texanfan.livejournal.com]

And the pain just keeps on coming. Truly lovely angst you've built here with Pepper not trusting herself to say or do the things she really wants to, also recognizing, right from the beginning, that this time is different.

I'm almost hesitant to make critique here but there are a few minor tweaks that I think could make things better. Tony has been handcuffed to the bed. As much thrashing as he did toward the end he's probably bruised and scraped his wrists severely if not actually cut them. Also, as shaky as he is I think she'd be forced to use an impersonal arm around him (careful not to touch their bodies together) or at least an arm under his arm to get him into bed. I agree completely it would have to be clinical and professional but I don't think two fingers would do it.

The burned "fun drawer" was a nice touch. I doubt Tony could bring himself to reenter the room yet so I have visions of Jarvis doing it for him.

Something else ocurred to me. Tony is covered in dried blood. Would she really put him to bed like that? Then I wondered how she would handle it. What came to me may or may not work for you but I submit it for your consideration. This is hardly the first time she's had to take care of Tony from an embarassing situation when he was incapacitated. I wonder if she's got some kind of patter? Some kind of slightly catty very droll comments she makes while putting her drunk as a skunk boss to bed. I wonder if she would try to fall back on the familiar to distance herself and maybe ground Tony while she cleans him up and helps him to bed? Just a thought.

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

OMG, can you imagine the level of freakout if she tried to clean him up after that? What would she use? I can't see her getting him into a shower (water on his face???), and a washcloth would be right out.

Not that she knows this, of course, which might add another level of angst when she tried... *evil laughter*

That's a really good point about marks on his wrists, and I did think about it but just never put it in. My bad.

Thanks. :)

[texanfan.livejournal.com]

Yeah, what would happen if she tried to use a washcloth on him did occur to me and it would be EVIL. :) I have these visions of her trying to do what she would normally do and getting thrown constantly because it's different this time. Of course, all of this would make for a significantly longer fic. Very rich relationship and situation you've set up.