I do not fear the darkness, rather the inherent absence of light.

Title paraphrased from a quote from Criminal Minds. This fic is a gift for FuyuSarah, who requested it. It's based on the Chapter 11 of The Elephant Graveyard (another fic of mine). May trigger, PTSD and fear of the dark.

After the surgery, Pepper thought things would finally get back to normal. She wasn't proud of that thought, especially since 'normal' here meant pre-Afghanistan normal. With the Arc gone, Tony looked almost like his old self. The version of him that laughed more easily. The version of him that didn't jump at loud noises. The version of him that liked swimming. She thought everything would finally be okay.

Then the nightmares started. Fire raging under her skin. She was coming apart. She was tied down. She was going to burn him, hurt him! she woke up with a gasp to complete darkness, and that's when she started to panic. Darkness was... the arc! She threw off the blankets and... smooth skin. Right. Okay. Right. That... made sense. She got up and started pacing, too full of nervous energy to sleep.

Tony didn't even wake up.

It was disturbing that she found the lack of light scarier than he did. He'd been relying on it to live. She'd helped him change his old ones out whenever he'd come up with an update. She'd freaked out every time the light flickered or dimmed. One time, she'd found him in the lab on the floor, barely breathing. There'd been damage to the Arc during a fire fight and he hadn't realised until the loose connection died completely, almost killing him.

Darkness, for the past five years, was something to be afraid of. Darkness meant he was dying or already dead. It was the first thing she looked to when she woke up. It was the first thing she'd checked after a battle. Now she was at sea, and she didn't know what her anchor was supposed to be.

Tony didn't understand. He tried. He talked to her about torture. About helplessness. But those things weren't bothering her, and she couldn't say 'I'm scared because your light's gone out'. He'd wanted it out. It was a sign of the hell he'd been through. She thought she should probably be more bothered than she was about the whole kidnapped and tortured thing. Her therapist thought so too.

She'd tried to get Tony to come see a therapist too, but he hated telling people his secrets. So, she'd arranged a play date with Dr Banner, and she could kiss that man, she really could. He gave off just the right air to make Tony comfortable enough to talk to him. He acted like he wasn't even listening, giving Tony the freedom to talk.

It gets worse. It's not supposed to get worse. It's supposed to get better. It should be getting back to normal. Everything looks normal on the surface. DUM-E and U are functioning again, and JARVIS is completely up to speed. Tony looks like his old self. She doesn't have Extremis burning up her veins any more.

It should be getting better.

She wakes up sweating and looking for the light night after night. Tony holds her and tells her it will be okay. She's pretty sure it won't be. Every time she's jolted from sleep, she's sure she's lying next to a corpse. It's too dark.

It's too dark.

It comes to a head when she dreams of seeing the light flicker and die and wakes up in total darkness.

"Tony! Tony, please!" He didn't wake up. "No, god." She pushed the blankets back and started clawing at his chest; searching for the hard ridge of the Arc Reactor (he'll have gouges in his chest from her nails in the morning). "It's not there, no light, oh god, Tony, JARVIS get the spare up here. It's gone out, oh god, too dark."

Gentle hands came up and cup hers, and she blinks.

"It's okay. I'm fine. I'm here. I had it taken out, remember?"

"Tony?"

"Yeah." She collapsed against him, sobbing and he held her close. "JARVIS, lights." That's better. She could see him. She could see the neat scar tissue of his chest. The surgeons had done a wonderful job. His breathing is actually a lot better now, and he's less susceptible to chest infections now. So that's good. They'd rebuilt his ribcage, reinforced it in places. She traced her hands across the scars, wincing when she sees the traces of blood. She'd done that.

"Sorry."

"Don't. Don't do that." She frowned and tried to pull away and look at him, but he just held her closer. She settled down against him and they sleep.

They barely saw each other the next day. She was dealing with Stark Industries stuff and he was tinkering in his lab. Part of her worried that he was building another suit, but she trusted him. she did. Besides, they also both had stuff to get ready for the kid; he, his sister and his mother are coming to visit for the weekend, and she isn't sure how she's going to cope with that. Harley saved Tony's life, she knew that, but his existence had started some awkward conversations between her and Tony. Like whether they would ever have any children. She was trying not to think about it.

When she finally got home, she was so tired she was surprised she was still upright. She toed off her shoes and headed straight for the bedroom, unzipping her dress as she went. All she wanted was a hot shower and a long sleep. She froze just inside the door.

"Do you like it?" Tony asked, sounding as anxious as he ever did.

"Well," she said, her voice wavering. "It's better than a giant bunny."

There were Arc Reactors on the walls. On the bedside tables. On the ceiling. There must be dozens of them. Maybe more. He's lit up her world and chased away the darkness and... she started crying. She didn't make a noise, just let the tears fall, and wrapped her arms around her middle.

Tony's there in a second, holding her and babbling. He's apologizing, she registered dimly. He's apologizing for upsetting her, telling her it was a dumb idea, that he just didn't want her to be scared of the dark.

"I'm not scared of the dark," she said, her voice coming out choked. "It's the absence of light." She managed a watery laugh and he joined in, relieved. They stood there light that for a long time, just marvelling in the glow of the Arc Reactors.