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She flusteredly smoothed down her clothes, her face turning red with embarrassment. "Oh… hi, Lemu. You're here. Come on in, have a seat."
Lemu casually leaned back on the sofa, watching them with a teasing look.
"It's fine, don't mind me. You two can continue."
"Yeah, but I mind," Stark retorted, throwing his hands up with an annoyed sigh. "Seriously, don't just show up here whenever you feel like it. You're such a pest."
"I wouldn't bother coming if I didn't have a reason," Lemu shot back. "Today, I just wanted to see if you'd kicked the bucket yet… How's that palladium poisoning treating you? Must suck, right?"
He continued casually, "So, how many days you think you have left? If there's still time, you should probably transfer your inheritance over to me now. Don't want it going to just anyone else."
Lemu settled onto the sofa looking perfectly calm and composed.
Acting completely at home, he poured himself a glass of water and rummaged under the coffee table, pulling out a few bags of blueberries.
Palladium poisoning?
Pepper looked completely lost. "…Wh-what poisoning?"
Her mind slowly processed the words, and then panic flashed in her eyes. She grabbed Stark's shoulders urgently.
"What palladium poisoning? Tony, what's going on? Lemu said you're poisoned?"
"Uh… well, I… I was just about to tell you," Stark stammered awkwardly. "And, you know, sort out my will… stuff like that."
Tony Stark stammered, clearly uncomfortable. He waved his right hand vaguely in the air, scrambling for an excuse, but his thoughts failed him. Finally, defeated and cornered, he gave a reluctant nod.
"You're dying? You're actually dying? Why didn't you tell me!"
Pepper's voice cracked with anguish, and her eyes instantly filled with tears that spilled freely down her cheeks. Her hands, still gripping Tony's shoulders, tightened with emotion—so fiercely that even Stark, who was no stranger to pain, winced slightly.
"Okay, okay, let go first… easy… let's just talk calmly…"
…
"I didn't want to say anything so soon… It's not exactly easy to announce your own death sentence," Tony said at last, his voice low and strained. A shadow clouded his features. Then, with characteristic deflection, he forced a weak smirk and began to speak quickly, trying to steer the moment away from despair.
"Pepper, the CEO position at Stark Industries… it's yours."
Pepper had been serving as Vice President for several months, and naming her successor now made sense—it was a decision she had earned, but never under such tragic circumstances.
"As for all my collections—the antiques, the paintings, the art pieces…"
He waved a dismissive hand, as though brushing away a lifetime of accumulated wealth and status.
"Donate half to the Boy Scouts of America. Find some charity for the rest. Honestly, I only bought most of it to dodge taxes anyway."
"If… when I die… split everything else I own three ways. You take a third, give a third to Lemu, and put the last third into a charity fund. Something that actually helps people."
"There might be some legal gymnastics, but I should be able to name my heirs myself."
He paused, then turned to Lemu with a lopsided smile, weak but teasing.
"Oh, and by the way—" he pointed a finger at him "—even you have a girlfriend now. If you beg, maybe I'll throw in a little extra. Call it an early wedding gift. Believe me, expenses skyrocket once you're a couple."
Lemu rolled his eyes and didn't dignify that with a reply.
Even you have a girlfriend now? What's that supposed to mean? Insulting me from your deathbed? Really classy, Stark.
Pepper sat quietly beside him, the tissue in her hand already damp. Her eyes, still red, stared down at her lap. She looked like she hadn't processed a single word of his will. She was lost somewhere deeper—somewhere heavier.
The room fell into silence for a full ten seconds.
Then, without warning, she raised her head. Her gaze locked on Stark's, fierce and resolute. There was a fragile glimmer of hope behind her eyes, though it was rapidly being overtaken by the cold, pragmatic calm of someone preparing for war.
"When did you get poisoned? How bad is it now? Is there any chance of a cure? What did the doctors say?"
She wasn't ready to believe it was over. Not yet. There had to be a way.
…
Another long silence followed, one that hung heavy and stagnant.
Finally, Stark gave a resigned shrug. He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness, his smile too forced to be genuine.
"A few months ago, maybe. I've probably got a few more months left before I go meet the big guy upstairs. Assuming he'll even let me in."
"I'm probably… possibly… maybe… beyond saving."
Lemu, who had been watching the emotional exchange with a mix of skepticism and irritation, finally spoke up with a dry, unamused tone.
"Okay, let me explain."
He glanced at Pepper, then at Stark, his expression firm and deliberate.
"Palladium poisoning. It's a form of heavy metal toxicity. The source is the Arc Reactor in his chest. Chlorophyll and lithium dioxide can treat the symptoms, but the real solution? He has to remove the reactor. Permanently. And never use it again."
Turning to Pepper, Lemu's demeanor shifted. His sarcasm faded, replaced by rare sincerity.
"Look, Pepper. I'm not usually the one to step in, but I need to say this."
"Tony is choosing to die. He's deliberately choosing it—leaving you alone and running away from this life."
Worrying about my girlfriend? Maybe worry about your own first, Lemu thought grimly.
And really, keeping a terminal diagnosis like palladium poisoning secret from everyone? You deserve a few harsh words, Stark.
Pepper didn't snap at Tony. She didn't accuse him, or scream, or demand an explanation. Instead, the faintest flicker of hope sparked behind her gaze.
"Is what Lemu said true, Tony?" she asked softly.
Stark looked away, his eyes tracing the ceiling as though he might find salvation written in the plaster.
"I… I can't live without the reactor. You know that. I have shrapnel embedded near my heart."
"I can't… I just can't do it. I need it…"
He shook his head, repeating the words like a broken mantra. Every syllable was laced with helplessness. His voice faltered, and the half-hearted smile he tried to muster faded before it even reached his lips.
There was something else—something unspoken—lurking behind his excuses. But Pepper wasn't thinking about that. Not yet.
Her mind was already racing.
"If we need surgery, then we'll get it. We'll remove the shrapnel. Even if they really can't take it out, we'll find another way. There has to be something—some sort of magnetic system to keep it from moving…"
Her voice had lost its earlier tremor. Now, it was full of resolve. The kind of resolve that turned battles.
….
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If you want to read 15+ chapters ahead and unpublished fanfics you can check out my patreon or just take a visit.
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