#it truly opened up a level of freedom I personally felt I haven't had in a long time!

[cinnamonrollstark]

Irondad Bingo: Trope: Sick Fic

@irondadbingo

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Your toothbrush is the red one. Damn thing has your name on it- you've got no excuse to forget. The bathroom is twenty-two steps from the bedroom, and a sharp left turn away. It shouldn't be that hard.

But somehow, it is. If it weren't, Tony wouldn't get cavities in the back of his mouth, or piss his pants in search of the toilet. This is meant to be a natural occurence, and it likely would've afflicted his father were he to have lived long enough, and yet, it feels like an intrusion on his life, a bomb dropped for absolutely no reason other than to throw him off course.

If it were as easy as simply reminding himself of these things day to day, then Pepper wouldn't have to find him in the hall, confused and frustrated, and scared because he doesn't know which way to turn next. She wouldn't have to brush his hair or remind him to wash it when it gets oily. But she does. And that is how it goes.

Dementia robs him of most luxuries. It was always Tony's longtime goal to find happiness one day, and as soon as he'd found it, the rug had been ripped from underfoot, and he'd landed in an abyss, with no direction, no map, and no way to get out again.

And yet, some days, the confusion clears. He is lucid, happy. These days are getting rarer as of late, few and far between, but when they occur, he never takes them for granted. He steals lucid moments of sunlight, wind combing through his slowly graying hair. He hugs his daughter, who grows with such rapid force that he's entirely sure he's missed years of her life in between the clarity. He stands at the bank of the lake, toes dipped in the water, letting sand tickle the soles of his feet. He takes these moments in as deeply as he can, as often as he can.

Today is no different. It's been three months since he was last completely lucid, and lately his ability to walk and talk as he once normally did is fading. It's somewhat early in the summer, about a week into June. Crisp light filters in through scattered windows in the lake house, framing Tony's figure as he looks out the window. The day has been slowly slipping through his fingers, and he knows what's coming. For all the planning and paperwork they've put into this, it's far harder to come to terms with as it actually happens.

Slim arms weave through his own, his hands in his pockets, and wrap around his waist. Pepper, the familiar scent of her perfume. Her breath elevates his chest against her own, her chin on his shoulder. "What're you doing?" She asks, swaying a bit against his body.

Tony lets out a soft exhale and turns to face her, returning the embrace. "Just thinking," he admits, not quite able to look directly at her. "Not gonna lie, Pep," he clears his throat, "I'm scared."

Pepper runs a soft hand across his hair and smiles with tears in her eyes. "I know," she swallows, and the pain in her voice is evident, "but you know it's going to be okay."

This is a quiet, loving lie. They tell this to themselves to feel better about what will happen later tonight, what they've been expecting for months now. They are settled in their decision, of course, but are nowhere near happy about it.

Morgan is not quite old enough to understand it in its entirety; at eight, she is obviously intelligent, but the rapid decline of her father's health was beyond her comprehension in its earliest stages, and now, as it is coming to an end, she is more so confused about what will happen after than why it is happening at all.

Many long talks with her, mostly on Pepper's end, as Tony is often unable to get a clear point across, have lead her to a stable acceptance of the subject.

Peter, on the other hand, has been so against the idea from the beginning that Tony's been fearing the worst- that he wont show up at all. He's 19, now, taking a gap year between high school and college. Other than lower-level villain defense, Peter isn't up to much at the moment, and his freedom to participate in the last clear days of Tony's life makes his absence all the more painful.

◇◇◇

Pepper's fingers lather shampoo through Tony's dark hair. She plants kisses on his soapy, wet cheeks, and cries as calmly as she can. It's moments like this, moments when he's aware and lucid that she misses him all the more. Every good moment has felt like the last in recent months, and now that is truly how it is.

It feels odd getting dressed for the last time- casual, comfortable, but something other than his standard pajamas- and his wife helps him pick out his last pair of clothes. He's gotten quite skinny, still muscular, but much smaller. Her arms fir around his waist so easily that her wrists overlap. She whispers that she loves him into his neck, and he tells her he loves her right back.

Tony pays a visit to Morgan's room soon before the doctor arrives. His daughter is sitting on her bed, eyes locked outside the window. She hugs a stuffed animal to her chest.

"Hey Maguna." He sits on the edge of the bed with her, and she glances warily at him. "You doin' okay?"

He runs a hand over her soft but messy hair. Her lips pout out in the way that they do when she's about to cry, and he kisses her cheek as the tears spill over. She doesn't sob or wail; it is resigned mourning.

"I just don't get why- if you're okay right now- why you have to go."

Tony takes in a deep breath. He had a feeling this question would come, as it is a perfectly natural reaction. He swallows the lump in his throat and hugs her from the side.

"Its because I'm okay right now that I know it's time to go. Thing is, kiddo, that things haven't been so easy for me lately. Things that everyone else can do without even thinking. And I don't always get to look at you, and see you for you."

He has to pause in order to not break down- six months ago, he forgot who she was. Simply didn't understand why this stranger of a child was in his house. It hadn't made sense to him when she'd burst into tears, and why he'd followed suit, as if some part of him knew what a self-betrayal it was to forget his own daughter.

"And I always want to look at you, and know you. And know your mom. And your big brother. I don't lose those things because I want to; it's just not in my control. But this is."

Morgan nods, a tear slipping from her cheek and over her lip. "I know," she admits. "I just wish you could stay."

◇◇◇

They eat dinner as a family, waiting in anxiousness for the arrival of Doctor Kleptach. Three chairs filled, and four spaces set for the meal. There is an emptiness that has yet to be filled, and it certainly isn't meant for the doctor.

Pepper keeps catching Tony's eyes, trying to reassure him that Peter will be coming, there is no way he'd miss this, but Tony isn't so sure. It feels as if Peter has completely separated himself from the family, as if he's rejected this new reality. Tony can't blame him; the last time the kid saw him, he was lost in the hall, wetting himself because he couldn't locate the bathroom in time. It must have terrified him, or at the very least, grossed him out.

It's coming down to the last twenty minutes before the doctor arrives, and Tony is certain that he wont be seeing Peter again until... well, until the time comes.

But there's a timid knock at the door, a catch of breath in each person's chest- and a tidal wave of fear that the doctor has arrived early. It's Tony who stands and makes his way to front of the house weakly, terrified that this means his time has been cut short. The doorknob turns, the door slides open-

And he's there. Peter launches himself into Tony's arms and he holds him there for a moment, hugging around him tightly. Tony tries not to focus on the way that Peter is quietly sobbing against his chest. When he finally let's go, Tony sees it in his eyes- this willingness to fight his own disagreement for the betterment of everyone else.

It's when he sees Peter standing there, red-eyed and tear stained, that he knows he can't go through with this. As much as it may have felt right, once, Tony still has a family. And though he falls apart, so often, now, he still has his good days.

He pulls him in, again, another embrace, and no longer for the last time. There will be many to come, and many to remember, even as he slowly loses those recollections, and moments in time that seemly do not exist any more. He is here, breathing and living right now.

When he turns to see his family, who stand awkwardly by the table, emotionally weary, he nods- and Pepper seems to understand, a slow-spreading smile on her cheeks. "Really?" She asks, breathless.

Tony grips Peter around the shoulders and smiles. "Really."

◇◇◇

Over the course of Tony's last years, he still lives out his good days. Most times he can be found, sitting on the patio of the lake house, across the table from his wife, trying his best to play stuffed animals with his daughter, or telling the few old stories he remembers again and again and again to the boy he is so thankful to call a son.

He does not always remember their faces, but they will always remember his, and that is enough.