There was a sudden, frantic movement across the room as Tony bolted upright. Pepper's recovery was going to come much faster than the doctors had anticipated, Tony knew that well enough, but he had no concept of how long he had been asleep--or that he had fallen asleep at all. There was drool on Happy's still hand where Tony had dropped his head, and he had to carefully pat at it until he gave up with a wave, sure no one would terribly mind. The fact that Pepper was awake meant that it had worked, everything Tony had hoped-- not just that she would survive, but the accelerated healing, and, after the drugs wore off, everything was going to feel clearer, lighter. Like a constant vitamin boost.
At least, Tony was feeling the effects. There was a hollow pit in his chest now, protected by the flimsy cotton of his sweater, and with it came a distinct drop in his focus, his energy, everything. The suit felt impossibly heavy in his bones, dead weight now; of course, now that he wanted to use it, just for a second, one last flight to clear his head and get through this, it was impossible. He'd gone to that meeting instead, knuckles curled against his chest the whole time, testing the sharp edge of the empty brace. "Pep--" he finally answered, climbing to his feet to come to the edge of her bed, force a smile and say, "Hey."