AN: Hi everyone! Thanks so much to everyone who has followed me on this!! Besides really enjoying the whole writing thing, it's been so awesome watching the hit counter and reading your reviews! :) :) Here is the last installment...I hope you enjoy it!

Day 82:

Pepper stared at the email. Even though she hadn't really spoken with the man since she'd turned down his offer of employment at the factory, a small voice inside her bitterly commented on the cold and impersonal way Mr. Stane had chosen to notify her.

'Miss Potts,

I know this will come as a shock, but we have received notice that the military's search for Tony Stark will be discontinued in forty-eight hours. All leads received to date have been exhausted.

The board of directors will be meeting two weeks from today to discuss the future of your position with Stark Industries. Please call my secretary to schedule a meeting during the week following the board meeting so we can meet to go over Tony's affairs.

Sincerely,

Obadiah Stane.'

What that email was actually saying was, 'Tony isn't coming back, and we're not going out to look for him anymore.' Regardless of the military's decisions on this, Stark Industries had the resources to look for him privately.

"Bastard." She said it softly, but might as well have screamed it.

"Indeed, Miss Potts." Jarvis replied.

Pepper couldn't stand it. She couldn't sit in her office and stare at that screen. She got up from her desk and went into the living room, looking for a distraction.

The door to Tony's room was open; the housekeeper must have left it open to air the room. Before she could stop herself, she went in.

The room was immaculate. Everything was in its place, and not a speck of dust (of course not, the housekeeper had just been through). The sky was cloudy and gray out the window that spanned the entire room. Still, the view across the ocean was breathtaking.

She walked across the ivory carpet, more plush than the carpet in the rest of the house, glancing over the closed closet doors. The room felt so empty. Her hand brushed over the bedspread as she moved to the large cherry wood bureau.

A few pictures were sitting there: Tony with his parents at their beach house when he was a boy. Tony with Rhodey, both of them with military caps on, askew, laughing. And. There was a picture of her, with Tony at a company function from last year. He was wearing a suit, had his arm around her shoulders and he was smiling that wicked cat-got-the-canary grin of his. Why did he have this picture here?

She ran her fingers down the picture frame, and something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She reached out and picked the small bottle up. His cologne - his favorite. She opened the bottle. Breathed it in. This is what she smelled on him every morning as she read him his schedule, and every evening when she closed up the office and said goodnight. It was a scent that she associated with all the things in her life that she thought she could depend on. Tony.

But she didn't have that anymore, because he was gone. She would never see him again. Pepper put the cologne back on the bureau, sat on the freshly cleaned bedspread and cried.

--

Day 86:

The vibration from the hammer striking metal traveled up his arm, numbing it. But he kept going. It was late, he knew. His internal clock told him it must be in the wee hours of the morning; he'd been working virtually non-stop for days now. Yinsen was behind him, working also, on some of the finer electronics. The older man did not have the strength required to do the metalwork. Tony felt badly that he was keeping the man up. The physician wasn't young anymore, and Tony had been working them both at a brutal pace.

He slammed the hammer down again, shaping the metal beneath it. He knew time was short, but also, the pounding of the hammer on iron kept thoughts at bay. Not thoughts of his company, weapons, terrorists, or the creature comforts he was so accustomed to, but thoughts of a face with clear blue eyes, a sweet smile and ginger hair. Thoughts that were better not examined too closely. Instead, he focused on the sounds and feeling of the metal as he worked it.

So he continued. Sweat dripped off of him, drenching his shirt, running into his eyes. The dull ache where his injury was still healing had long since grown to pain. The cave was warm, had been warm since he'd started the metalwork on the project. He had welcomed it, the damn place was so cold otherwise, but now his skin was flushed from the heat and all he wanted to do was lay down and surrender to sleep. He paused for a moment. The metal needed to be heated again - it wasn't giving in to the hammer.

"You need to rest. You will exhaust yourself before we are done, and then where will we be?" The quiet voice said from behind him.

"I can't. We're running out of time. I can feel it." Tony's voice was harsher then he meant. He was already exhausted, drained. But there was no time, and when he stopped, fear rushed in.

"Tony. I know the demons you are running from, and I know what we are trying to complete. I know how little time we have, but you must rest or you will not be able to finish." Yinsen's eyes were sharp as he took in the younger man.

Tony felt uncomfortable under those eyes. How did this man know him so well? He gave in, only because if he did he could get back to work quicker. "Alright, Yinsen. I'll lie down for an hour, but no more. I can't tell you how I know it, but we're almost out of time."

Yinsen nodded, frowning. It would have to do. He knew Tony Stark well enough by now that if he said he'd sleep for an hour, well, that was as far as he'd go. He shook his head, frustrated. The man was killing himself. Why had he put in such effort to save Stark, if he was going to end up working himself to death? Arrogant, frustrating child, an angry little voice said. He watched as Tony cleared the work surface and walked over to his mattress, lying down with a sigh. Watched as the younger man turned towards the wall, muting the glow from the arc generator in his chest.

No. He had to admit that voice was wrong. Arrogant? No. A child? No. Brilliant, driven, passionate, and stubborn, yes. A man working beyond common sense, beyond the limits of his body, simply because in his mind there was no other way. In the middle of all this tension, cutting through the fatigue, Yinsen wondered if he was this frustrating for the people who knew him well.

Shaking his head, the physician went back to his work, forcing his blood-shot eyes to focus. He'd just finish this off before he tried to get some sleep. Wryly, Yinsen noted the younger man's commitment wasn't helping his old bones much, either.

--

Day 87:

Tony's body ached all over. He knew Yinsen was right, but he couldn't afford the time. For the last few days the sense of urgency had risen in his mind until he wanted to scream. He did rest, but for half-an-hour. Muscles screaming, he dragged himself off the mattress to the table, and picked up on the finer work where Yinsen had left off. No hammering until later, he didn't want to wake the poor guy. He let Yinsen sleep until breakfast.

Close. They were very close. By his estimates, they needed two more days and the armor would be as ready as it could be. Tony laughed bitterly to himself. Two more days and he just might be dead; he didn't know how much longer he could sustain the effort he was putting out.

They talked little now, stopping only for short instructions, curtly given. Tony knew that Yinsen understood. He was impressed at the stamina of the older man.

Things were going well, until that evening, when shortly after testing the actuators for the armor's leg, their time ran out.

The leader of the insurgents came in, looking murderous. This was the first time Tony had seen him. He spoke to Tony at first. He was intelligent, articulate, calculating and evil. There was a hunger in this man that was frightening, a hunger that allowed him to do whatever he needed to get what he wanted.

After a few minutes, he turned his attention to Yinsen, and there was a terrifying moment when Tony realized where the conversation was going; it was blatantly clear even in another language, as he watched Yinsen's head being pushed down on the anvil, a hot coal brought too close to his face.

"I need him. He's a good assistant." Heart hammering, Tony looked into the man's face, trying to convince him he couldn't use anyone else (in truth, no one else but the leader spoke English). That was when Tony knew this killer didn't care about hurting Yinsen. He wasn't trying to motivate Yinsen to do anything. Tony saw in his eyes that he knew these two captives were now friends.

If Tony didn't do what he wanted, both men would pay, but Yinsen would pay first - with Tony helpless to do anything about it. "You have one more day to produce my missile."

After they left, Tony was thoughtful for a while. The leader had wanted to motivate him. Well, he'd succeeded. He held a hand out to Yinsen, helped him up. "Are you alright?"

"Yes… I – I thank you." Yinsen's voice shook as he sat down on the small metal chair by the table.

"I'm sorry, Yinsen. I wish I could go faster."

The man laughed as he cleaned his glasses. "Faster, man? No one else could have made it this far as quickly. Do not worry, my friend. I am alright."

"Okay. Playtime's over. Let's finish this." Tony picked up the tongs and put the metal in the fire to heat again. Taking a deep breath, Yinsen nodded.

--

Day 88:

The suit worked.

Yinsen, the man who saved his life, the man who showed him what he had to do, was dead. He'd let Tony think he was building the suit to save them both, but the whole time he had never intended to leave that cave. That hurt.

Thanks to Yinsen, he was alive. He'd escaped. And he'd blown up the weapon cache. "Pretty impressive explosion," he had to admit, "nope, not bad."

And now he was probably going to die in this sandpit. No food, no water. Though there was no real way to prevent it, he couldn't help muttering, "smooth, Tony." It hadn't really helped crash landing in the suit; they'd done their best making the damn thing, but there were plenty of rough edges. It tore him up pretty good, and Tony was fairly certain his arm was broken.

Wrapping the remains of his jacket around his head to save him from the worst of the sand, Tony kept going in the direction he thought was north. It was pretty frightening - stretching out as far as he could see: sand. And more sand. He stumbled a little as he crested the next sand dune. Yep, more sand.

The last few days had been the worst; it had taken all he had to get out of there in that suit. How would it feel to just lie down? To have the ache bleed away into oblivion. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He told himself he couldn't, that there was still work to do. But it's more than that. Before he could examine the thought more closely, he heard something over the constant sound of wind and sand. What was that?

Thuup, thuup, thuup, thuup, thuup. He looked up just in time to see the helicopter crest the hill and land in front of him.

"How was the fun-vee?"

--

Day 89:

Pepper smoothed the covers over the guest bed and smiled softly. If she didn't say anything, Tony would never know she'd been here. But she was going to tell him … because she could. He was coming home.

She was meeting him at the Air Force base in the morning. She was almost afraid to believe it - afraid it was a trick. But she knew it wasn't. And the board meeting about her 'future' wasn't going to happen, nor was the meeting with Mr. Stane. She knew it was mean, but she had never taken more satisfaction from a conversation then in the one she'd had with Mr. Stane yesterday, when he'd called (yes, he called) to let her know the meetings had been cancelled.

She laughed to herself. "Tony, I should have known. Hundreds of men searching for months couldn't get you out, so you made it out yourself." She couldn't stop smiling.

"The limo has arrived to return you to your apartment, miss."

Pepper picked up her bag and stepped toward the door. "Thank you Jarvis."

Rhodey had told her that Tony had been injured, but was going to be okay. He warned her that he'd had been through a lot, and he might be different. She'd need to give him time and help him adjust. That was okay. She was quite accustomed to working around Mr. Stark's unique personality.

She just needed to know he was going to be around.

--

Day 90:

"Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long lost boss?" Tony's dark eyes took in his assistant's clear blue eyes, sweet smile, and ginger hair.

"Tears of joy. I hate job hunting." Pepper smiled. She breathed in. He'd gotten some of his favorite cologne from somewhere.

--

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