Chapter Text
The glass was cut crystal (only the best for true drinking marathons) and held the beautiful light amber liquid of good scotch. He swirled it around in the glass looking at the effect it had with a drunken fascination as he thought about what drove him here. Tony would be lying to himself if he said he didn't see it coming, not with the way Pepper looked at the suit. Not with the disappointed look she'd get if he worked too late or patted one of his bots.
"They're a part of me Pepper." he'd tried to explain.
"They're toys Tony." she murmured, not quite angry, but judgemental. "You're an adult now"
He was able to pass off the Chintari invasion as a one off. How many times would he be needed to defend the world from aliens anyway? Besides, he was a consultant, not an Avenger and boy did that fact never cease to rub him the wrong way.
Ironman: Yes. Tony Stark: Not recommended.
But then there was Dr. Doom (seriously, he couldn't come up with anything more original?) not once or twice, but three times. Then came the Red Skull and suddenly he'd been offered a place on the team.
"I don't care what Fury says, you've been on this team since you put on the suit." Steve had said (because Tony could call Captain America Steve now! Awesome!).
So Tony had made a choice, and he knew, before he and Pepper had even talked, because she was barely tolerating his expeditions as Ironman let alone whatever she'd say about joining the Avengers.
And there she was, arms folded, tapping her stiletto heel on the floor of the lobby in Stark Tower when he arrived that night with his biggest smile, almost splitting his face open. Pepper couldn't ruin this moment for him. He was an Avenger he'd found a place in the universe in which he belonged and Pepper couldn't make him feel bad about this she couldn't.
"If you loved me how you said you did, you would have changed for me."
He'd been wrong. She could she did.
So now he was sitting on his lovely leather couch determinedly getting wasted on a day that was meant to be one of his happiest. Pepper thought he hadn't loved him enough, that he hadn't changed enough. He'd bent himself over backwards to be a better man, to be a man he could be proud to look in the mirror at, but that hadn't been enough for her. And he didn't know how to change that, how to make that better, because he liked where he was, he liked the suit and being an Avenger and getting to defend his planet or his country or whatever.
But Pepper had been his love, his compass, his world.
What did that say about him that he couldn't keep the one woman who'd cared enough to stay?
He downed the rest of his glass.
"Sir." JARVIS's british tones cut through the silence. "If you consume anymore alcohol I shall have to call Miss Potts."
Tony sat up straight at the threat.
"Don't you dare call her." he growled. He never wanted to hear from her again, not if she thought he hadn't loved her enough, cared for her enough. Calling anyone would be better than her, even Captain fucking America.
"Calling Captain Rogers." JARVIS responded and oh shit. He'd reached "say any thought that comes to mind" drunk. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Oh well, he thought, slumping back onto the sofa, darkness beginning to cloud his vision. It looked like he wasn't going to be conscious much longer anyway.