Just something that popped into my mind after watching the third movie. Can either be read as completely unrelated to the movie, or as an alteration of the bedroom scene.

"H-uh."

That was what Pepper awoke to; a mumbled, shaky breath that would have gone unnoticed in almost every other circumstance. But not this one, of course not.

The red head opened her eyes slowly, at the time, not understanding why or how she had awakened from her deep slumber, something that she was not prone to. Scanning her eyes across the massive bedroom, she silently determined that nothing was wrong, she had woken up for no apparent reason, something that she was prone to. Snuggling deeper into the think comforter, she fantasized about a tropical vacation with Tony and willed herself to sleep.

"N...n-o." Next came three sharp, fast, and labored gasps.

This time her eyes flew open, thoughts of sleep and a vacation long gone from her mind. She quickly sat up in bed and looked down at the man beside her.

"Tony..." she murmured quietly as she took in his presence. He was curled in a ball, his whole body rigid as he squeezed a pillow in his arms as tightly as he could. A mixture of sweat and possible tears covered his face, seeping down his chest and making his hair stick to his forehead. The most prominent thing about him, though, was that he was shaking. Not the shaking where a person might have a small tremor because of the cold, but the furious shaking where a person had just come out of a life changing, traumatic event.

Before she could call to him again, Tony closed even further in on himself as he let out an anguished sob. His jaw snapped close and she heard his teeth snap together. Of course, even while sleeping, he would control what emotions were displayed to the public.

Moments after he cried out, she placed a hand on his arm and called out to him, this time with force. "Tony."

He retreated from her touch and pulled his arm away quickly, as if he had been burned. Pepper tried again, this time shaking him.

"Tony. Tony, wake up," her voice began to plead.

He began to squirm under her touch, twisting and pulling away. All the while, crying out words of pain and pleads that steadily increased in volume.

"A-hh," gasp, "No! St-op," twist, "Dammit, no!"

She tightened her grip. "Tony! Come on, Tony, wake up!"

Still nothing. He just continued to slur words of fear and shake like it was his job. So, she went a step further and forced him onto his back, though she was met with much resistance. Shifting up to straddle him, she cupped his face with her hands and shook his head.

He let out a loud sob, as if she was hurting him, but she continued to shake him. "Tony! Tony, listen to me. You have to wake up, please! Tony!" Fear began to creep up her spine at the thought of him not waking up, which began to seem more probable by the minute.

But, by the grace of God, he finally opened his eyes, and very quickly at that. She let out a relieved half-breath half-sob as she lowered her forehead down to his very slick and hot shoulder. Before she reached her destination, though, she felt a moments pain across her stomach. The next thing she was aware about was that she was on her back with a heavy mass across her body, forcing her into the mattress. That, and the hand that was wrapped tightly around her throat.

Pepper tried to take in as much air as she could as she looked up into Tony's eyes, which were wide, dilated completely, fearful, angry, and exhausted. He was breathing heavily above her, and she could feel his heartbeat going off like helicopter blade against her chest. With weak arms, she desperately tried to push him off, needing air quickly.

And almost as quickly as he had attacked her, he recoiled back into himself. His grip on her throat disappeared and his body was lifted as he pushed himself off of her. Not taking into account any of his surroundings, he fell onto the floor with a loud thump.

She took a moment to fill her deprived lungs with air, thankful for the chance to breath again. The man on the floor was what took president in her mind, though. There would be time to deal with her experience later.

Throwing her legs off the side of the bed, she squatted down to where Tony was still shaking as he leaned against the mattress. His eyes flickered slightly before they rested on her, and though the anger had disappeared, they still looked frightened and confused.

"Pepper..." he whispered in a raspy voice.

Not reached out to him this time, she calmly told him, "I'm right here, Tony."

"Pepper," he repeated, this time just as unstable as the last.

"It's okay, Tony. I'm here, nothing's going to happen to you," she soothed him.

She could hear, as well see, his breathing turn ragged, much worse than it had been earlier. "Pepper." Her name stuttered from his lips.

Not afraid anymore, she slowly reached her hand out and buried it in his damp hair, then guiding his head to her chest. She lowered herself fully onto the floor as he began to break. His arms wound themselves tightly around her waist as his trembling began, this time not from fear, but from his silent sobs.

With one hand still in his hair and the other one running up and down his slick back, she wondered idly why he was still holding back. She could feel his tense body hiccup and cave in, but no sounds were coming from his mouth. Then she noticed that his jaw was still tense, and that he was purposefully stopping the tears.

Bringing her mouth down to his ear, she quietly murmured, "Let go, it's okay, it's all gonna be fine, Tony. Let go."

And from the man that she had come to love came his ever-so predictable response; he shook his head and held onto her tighter.

If they were in any other situation, she might have laughed at his stubbornness. But she couldn't see his response as comedic, not now. Right now, she wanted him, needed him, to let everything go. She knew that no matter what happened tonight, he would avoid any and all questions about it tomorrow. So as long as she had him here, she wanted him to get it out of his system, to release any and all tensions and fears.

"Shh, I'm right here. I'm right here and I love you, Tony. I love you so much, more than anything." His breath hitched. "Nothing will hurt you here, you're safe." His body tensed. "Let it go, Tony." And then he broke.

Pressing himself closer than humanly possible, a painful sob ripped itself from his body as tears started to leak from his eyes. Rubbing his back slowly, she rocked them both back and forth as loud cries ripped them both apart.

This was Tony Stark. The same Tony Stark that saves the world on a monthly basis, was undeniably obsessed with building things, who escaped from unescapable situations that should of gotten him killed, who held things in place when his parents were killed, and who was a symbol of freedom to America. Tony Stark doesn't cry.

But here he was, on the ground, sobbing like a child. And out of everyone in the world, he had the most justified reasons to do so. He saves the world on a monthly basis, stays up much too late to build things, escapes from unescapable situations that almost get him killed, keeps things together when everything goes wrong, and who is now a symbol of freedom to all of America. To say he has a lot on his plate is an understatement.

Whatever it was that caused him to be like this, it had built up over the years of him ignoring his mental health. After returning from multiple missions, she had begged him to see some one to help him, especially in the past months. The last time he had a full night of peaceful sleep had probably been the night before his captivity in Afghanistan. What was happening to him was the release of, at least, three years of frustration, anger, stress, and confusion.

Time seemed to disappear as they sat together, limbs intertwined like a knot that wouldn't come undone. Eventually, though, Tony's sobs ceased and his shaking lessened until all that was left was his still heavy breathing. Slowly, she felt him lift his face from her chest, and what she saw was half-lidded eyes, red rimmed with purple marks underneath. She couldn't help herself from tracing a hand from the corner of his eye down to his chin, needing to touch his face.

Looking into his eyes, she said quietly, "You're safe, and everything's okay," she ran a hand through his hair, "I love you, Tony."

With his eyes closed, he leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers. Speaking as though he wanted no one but her to hear, he whispered, "I'm so sorry, so, so sorry," his voice broke, "And I love you, so much. Never forget that." He let out another breath. "Jesus, I'm so sorry."

"Shh," she stopped him, "Everything's okay. You're fine, everything is fine."

He nodded against her. And then his lips were on hers, hesitant at first, but slowly gaining strength and determination. Soon she felt his tongue against her mouth, seeking permission, but she pulled away from him, surprising him.

Eyes open now, he gazed at her with uncertainty and rejection, breaking her heart. "Tony..." she started.

"Pepper," he paused, "please." It was a plea to bring him back, to put things back the way they were. Because even though he was the mechanic, she was the one to fix things for him.

After a moments silence, she nodded, and he went for her again. Their lips entered a fiery dance that could only end one way. Eventually they ended up back on the bed, limbs still tangled and lips still connected. And finally, with their hips lost in a rhythm of their own, Tony's break was lost along with all other thought.

Once finished, they laid together, his head back on her chest and arms and legs wrapped around each other. He was fine, they were fine, and everything would be okay. If it wasn't, one of them would fix it; he, the mechanic, or her, the secretary. They would fine.

And with meetings and plans of tomorrow long forgotten, they both slept peacefully.

If only it could last.

Thoughts?