Make or Break

by Capitaine Pickle

Gregory is a control freak and always angry; Tony endures it the best he can. Gregory/Tony.

Disclaimer: Marvel not mine.

Pairings: Greg/Tony, one-sided Steve/Tony in later chapters, mentioned noncon Howard/Tony

Summary: Gregory is a control freak and always angry; Tony endures it the best he can.

Warning: Shameless messing with universes. Incest. Howard being a royal and utter asshole. Sorry. I actually like a nice Howard. Just not in this fic.

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Make or Break
Chapter 1

Gregory came into this life with as much dignity as a newborn baby could ever possibly pull off. He did not cry, did not scream, just wiggled his little arms and legs as a show of health and strength. He weighted nine pounds and one quarter, had a soft blond mope on top of his head and blue eyes that had stared right back at his father as the latter first held him; almost in defiance, Howard Stark would muse as he would recall the birth of his first son. Gregory had taken all the space in his mother's belly he had deemed necessary, not leaving much for his younger brother Anthony.

Anthony's birth was catastrophic. It took a good twenty minutes to pull him out, as if the baby refused to leave the safety of his mother's womb. Perhaps it would have been for the best, when considering the tragic events that would later plague him in his life. Anthony weighted five pounds and a half -Gregory was greedy and probably had left little for his brother to feed on as they developed- and had jet-black hair. He had a heart defect and had almost died from a heart attack directly after his birth. The doctors reanimated him and Anthony started crying, as if in regret.

When the story of their birth were related to them somewhere in their late childhood, Gregory felt guilty. It was a feeling he hated and found absurd, so he made sure to never make it known to anyone. He also thought that his brother's weakness probably explained why his mother affectioned him so much. As a young child, he would silently resent his brother for it, but when his twin's feeble heart condition was made known to him, he thought it rather pathetic. He decided, then, that he should simply hate his brother for the sake of hating him. A hard task to accomplish; his brother was so different from him -so weak, so soft- that he found himself being more fascinated than anything else.

OoOoO

''So, you are Happy Hogan.''

''Y-yessir.'' Happy Hogan was literally shaking in his seat. He was facing Gregory Stark himself, CEO of Stark Global Solutions, and he was still confused as to why that was. Pepper, a friend of his, had informed him that her boss -Anthony Stark of Stark Industries- needed a new chauffeur. He had readily given her his references as a formality, even though Pepper had told him he would start week. Minutes later after the encounter, when he had parted ways with Pepper, he had received a call from Gregory Stark himself, saying he would personally conduct an interview.

Here he was, in the head office of a boss and a company he was not going to work for.

And for some inexplicable reason, his being extremely uncomfortable and nervous seemed to please Gregory Stark.

''You don't look dangerous.'' Gregory snorted.

''I hope not. I wouldn't want to.'' Happy replied after a short confused second. The tall blond man in front of him arched an elegant brow then lowered his eyes to the documents in his hand; Happy's modest references.

''You are a friend of Pepper's.'' Happy nodded at the statement, not trusting his voice. Gregory dropped the documents unceremoniously on a corner of his desk then relaxed in his seat, staring intently at Happy. He stared for what seemed like an eternity; his eyes were cold and severe, and he never even once blinked. Happy swallowed thickly and felt an urgent need to pee.

''I always run a check on whoever will come in contact with my little brother.'' Gregory explained, finally answering Happy's unspoken question ever since he answered his call. ''This interview will not be known to Anthony of course.'' He added warningly as he sat up-straight again and picked his phone. He curtly instructed his secretary to come up to his office and hung up.

''I know everything about you and your family, mister Hogan. I trust you will do your job in an exemplary manner, otherwise who knows what unfortunate accident might happen. Now get out of my sight.'' With his, Gregory made a dismissive gesture and did not spare anymore of his attention to Happy. The short brown haired man was still dumbstruck into his seat when the secretary entered.

''Show mister Hogan out.'' Gregory instructed, eyes not leaving the computers on his desk.

Happy recovered from the 'interview' only once he was safely home. He still could not believe such a powerful man as Gregory Stark would waste his time on a guy on him, a chauffeur, just to throw an unjustified threat at his face. He dreaded his first meeting with his new boss, if he was anything like his bother. That week, Happy barely slept and when he went out for errands, he had the constant impression of being followed.

On his first day of work, Anthony Stark greeted him with a smile that instantly won Hogan's trust and respect, which only increased with the firm handshake they exchanged. His new boss had bright, sparkling eyes; they had a pleasant mischievousness about them whenever Anthony joked. They were as blue as his brother's, but definitely kinder. Anthony told him he was happy to meet any friend of Pepper's, told him he hoped the working conditions suited him, told him to simply call him 'Tony', ladida ladida.

Happy almost forgot his encounter with the evil twin bother when Tony showed him to the company's garage where the large collection of luxury and sport cars were parked. His job was going to be awesome.

OoOoO

Fascination for his little brother was already strong and steady within Gregory at the tender age of four. It fascinated him how easily Tony cried or smiled, how easily he got worked up and how fragile he was, having recently witnessed Tony's very first heart failure. It had caused quite a ruckus. Gregory had not fully understood what the deal was, but he liked his brother enough to know he didn't want him to go just yet.

It also fascinated him how their father was trying so hard to change Tony. Trying to make him more like older brother. At the thought, he abandoned his task of taking apart his toy (an articulated figurine of Captain America) and glanced at his brother on the floor beside him. Tony was playing by himself with his own figurine (they were brand new gifts from their mother). He let his eyes travel down to Tony's left arm. They were wearing a short-sleeved shirt, so the deep blue gash were there for the world to see. Tony was left-handed, and apparently that was a fault their father had taken upon himself to correct.

Gregory frowned, returning to his small work table. He liked Tony the way he was; easy to manipulate, a decent playmate and really really cute too. That was always very handy when wanting to manipulate the people who liked to call themselves 'authority figures' or 'adults'. Plus, he didn't think he would like Tony if he became another Gregory. He didn't want someone else like him. He was unique and didn't want any competition. Tony too was unique, but definitely wasn't competition.

Howard entered their play room at that moment. It was a playroom Howard had designed and furnished himself; a large room with genius-child-friendly computers and tools to work with.

''What are you up to, boys?'' Their father asked with obvious faked interest as he eyed the toys suspiciously. Gregory, as usual, answered first.

''I'm taking apart Captain America so I can make im-improv... make him better.'' Stupid big words. He turned to his father. ''I want to add a very small computer and very small speakers so he can talk to me. I'll add a parachute and a motor and for the shield a prop-proplu-''

''Propulsor'' His father filled in. Gregory bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to snap in anger. He didn't like to be interrupted, and even less so to be corrected.

''Propulsor. And I'll make a remote control.'' Greg finished quickly, frowning at his father.

''Excellent.'' Howard nodded approvingly then walked up to Tony. ''And you?'' He asked with some degree of disdain, clearly seeing that his other, less impressive child wasn't doing anything of interest.

Gregory observed silently as the scene unfolded before him, clenching Captain America's head tightly in his palm. When he saw his bother's fear-filled eyes dropped to the ground, he felt the cheap plastic crack in his hand.

''Nothing.'' Answered Tony in a quiet voice.

''You're not going to improve your toy like your brother?'' Howard asked dryly.

''N-no.'' Looked up to his father, withdrawing into himself as if taking too much space would further anger his father. ''I like it the way it is.''

Gregory bit into his cheek again; his stomach had dropped at his brother's words and he could feel his heart beat violently against his chest. His knuckles were white and his hands were shaking from gripping so hard, anger building up deep withing him.

Howard crouched in front of Tony and help his arms in a too-tight grasp.

''Why?!'' He gave a violent shake of his arms, freezing Tony in silent terror. ''Huh?! You never do anything, you never show initiative like your brother. You're weak, unintelligent and useless!'' He shook Tony once more then pushed him away before leaving the room without another word.

His little brother started crying as soon as their father had left, and Gregory, for his part, was breathing heavily through his mouth. He turned to his worked table where the other pieces of his toy lay scattered. He grabbed each of them and broke them one after the other, still shaking in anger.

''This game is stupid!'' He growled to himself, then looked at the door from which their father had left. ''Father is stupid!'' He screamed loudly, throwing all the broken pieces of plastic on the ground with one sweep of his arm. Their father probably hadn't heard, but Gregory would not have cared even if he had.

At his brother's outburst, Tony slowly wiped his tears away. His sobs soon turned into small hiccoughs before ceasing entirely. He hated when his father got angry, but not when it was his brother. His brother acted like a robot most of the time, but he knew being angry was Gregory's strange way of showing his affection. It comforted him to see Greg like this. Following his brother's intense gaze, he noticed the pitiful state of Captain America. Picking up his own toy, he walked quietly to his brother and handed him the unharmed toy. At his brother's confused look, he explained:

''Father will want to see your toy. He'll be angry if he sees you didn't do anything.''

''I don't care!'' Greg spat furiously. Tony didn't flinch, just kept on insisting.

''But me, I do.'' Took his brother's hand and placed his toy in it. ''I don't want father to be mad at you because of me.''

''It's your stupid toy.'' Greg returned it brusquely. ''You said you liked it. And mom gave it to us.'' Tony shrugged.

''It's okay.'' He put it on the table.

Gregory looked at his brother. He suddenly felt conflicted. He didn't know what he wanted more; please his brother or piss off his father. He frowned.

''Okay... You can play with it when I'm done.''

His brother's smile made his choice worthwhile, somehow.

OoOoO

Gregory had lost complete control of himself only once in his life so far. It had led him to kill his father. Not that he regretted it, mind you, not one fucking bit, but if he hadn't been so reckless he would have thought of falsifying his father's will. He would have spared himself the humiliation of being forced to work under Obadiah Stane until the age of twenty five. Well, truth to be told, it was Tony who was forced to do it until he could inherit Stark Industries, and Gregory had only been encouraged to, but he couldn't bring himself to leave his little brother alone in the hands of the fat, disgusting man. That was out of t he question.

So here he was, at twenty two in the R&D department of SI, in the little workshop reserved for the brothers' use only. He watched his little brother's straight face as the latter worked on some weapon's design. If Gregory had falsified his father's will, it would have also made it possible for his brother to make his dreams come true a lot sooner. For umpteenth time, he swore to himself never to make such a mistake again.

He walked to the drawing table where his little brother was sitting. Looking over the black-haired man's shoulder, he saw 'Jericho' written at the top corner of the blueprints. He quickly scanned his brother's sketches then stole his white marker.

''Hey!'' Tony protested, stunned out of his concentration. Gregory ignored him and added some details to the drawing.

''It'll increase the aerodynamic properties.''

''I was going to do that.'' Tony pouted.

''So this is your new weapon.'' Their blue eyes met. Gregory didn't look particularly impressed with Tony's new concept, but Obi had loved it and clients had already bought a contract, so whatever.

''Yes.'' Tony said dryly, turning back to his plans. ''The first demonstration's in one month.'' Greg's mouth turned into a thin, straight line.

''Where? And when exactly?''

''In Afghanistan, on the 20th.'' Greg grabbed Tony's shoulder tightly and turned him on his swivelling chair to face him again. Tony's eyes were wide in surprise.

''Afghanistan?! I'll be at the CERN on the 20th. You can't go.'' Tony rolled his eyes.

''Don't get your panties in a knot, brother dear. Rhodey's gonna be there with half his division. Everything's gonna be fine.'' Tony sighed. Greg stared at him blankly like he always does when he wants to intimidate people. Tony stared back, used to his brother's ridiculous antics. After a while, Greg released his shoulder and straightened himself on his feet. Oh God, he had made a decision.

''I'll just cancel my appointment at the CERN then.''

''Jesus Christ, Greg!'' Tony cried out and comically pulled his hair, exasperated. ''Just let go for once!''

After days of brooding, arguing and frustration, Greg decided to follow Tony's wishes. That was another foolish mistake he did in his life; how naive of him to think he could trust anyone but himself with his brother's safety. Greg was born with all the luck, so of course something would happen to Tony. Of course his brother would get himself fucking kidnapped.

That day, no one wanted to risk breaking the news to Greg but James Rhodes himself. Greg supposed that if he could not respect the man's competences as a bodyguard, he could at least admire his courage. He managed to only punched him once in the face. It was a nasty punch, though.

He conducted the rescue himself, of course. He had felt sick and his throat tight for the entire duration of the search until, finally, in the middle of the desert, they found him. Greg shakily scooped up his baby brother in his arms, wondering at his even being still conscious (still alive, he didn't want to admit to himself). With retrained rage, he took in his brother's heavily sun-burnt skin, his dehydrated and famished features and the suspicious blue instrument attached to his chest.

''Greg...'' Tony said in a hoarse voice, smiling weakly. His eyes held such heart-breaking relief that Greg chocked back in a sob and looked away for a moment, the sight simply too much to bear.

''I've got you.'' He said when he gathered up enough composure to look back at his brother. Tony honestly did not know if this was real or not, but it felt so good to be found that he let his consciousness go almost as soon as Greg had lifted him up from the ground. Gregory lost no time in bringing him back into the helicopter in which a small emergency room separated by a curtain had been prepared for his brother. Greg entered -followed closely by Rhodey- and gently laid Tony on the bed. The doctor appointed for the rescue mission instantly started checking Tony's vitals and other such things. As it turned out, there wasn't much the doctor could do other than treat surface wounds -which Greg insisted on doing himself- seeing as Tony would need more than what was available in the helicopter to be properly treated and that the strange instrument attached to his chest would require special equipment to demystify.

Tony slept through the ride back to the camp they had settled in Afghanistan, waking up for a brief blurry moment when they transferred to Greg's private jet to fly back to New York. Tony woke up again only long after they had settled him in a hospital – much to his dismay.

When his vision finally adjusted to the new environment, his gaze fell on the people around him. Greg, of course, was the first he noticed, then Rhodey and Pepper, the brothers' personal secretary. (He later learned that Obadiah had made a brief visit, since it was expected of him, and had left when he was told Tony was in no danger.) He smiled at each of them and they all smiled back – except Gregory. Gregory had always been too grave for smiles.

''You look awful Rhodey.'' Rhodes laughed, shaking his head at Tony's seemingly boundless idiocy. ''Especially with a missing teeth.''

''It's thanks to your bro. He punched the life out of me. And I was too busy to get it fixed.''

''You would look dashing with a golden teeth.''

For his part, Gregory didn't feel like joking at all.

''How did you get out?'' He felt Tony tense up slightly -He was holding his hand- and their gazes met.

''I built myself an armour.'' Tony replied, sighing. Gregory decided not to bother with the details of how exactly had he found the time to built an armour under his captors' nose and went directly for more important information.

''I hope for their sake that you killed them all as you left. It would be a blessing to be dead, compared to what I have in mind for any survivor.'' He was already planning his own return in the region in search of the camp where Tony had been hidden. No one hurt his brother without being punished; even their own father had not been spared. Tony stared at him in a mix of what he could only identify as wonder and fear. He looked at his friends to help him gather the courage to speak, knowing his older brother will not like what he was about to say.

''Don't kill them. I brought this on myself, Greg.'' The blond man frowned at him.

''You don't know what you're saying.''

''But it's true. They were after the weapons we make. That's what giving the means for violence does; it's bound to be used against me. I have to stop.'' Tony could tell his brother was fuming internally, but the fact that he was not contradicting him was a sign he had acknowledged his point. The blond turned towards Tony's two friends.

''Leave us.'' He ordered, unwilling to discuss the subject further in front of them. The pair left, much too afraid of the older twin to dare disobey him. When the door closed behind them, Gregory returned his attention back to his brother, silently urging him to continue.

''I've used the excuse of being under contract for Obadiah to justify my work. I relived myself from all sense of responsibility with this. But I can't wait until I'm twenty five anymore. It needs to stop now. I'll resign tomorrow; I'll have to give up my claims to Stark Industries.''

That was the last thing Gregory had expected to hear. He could not hide his surprise. He stared at his brother long and hard, somehow hoping his brother would take back his words.

''No. I won't let you.'' Gregory said at last, letting no space for negotiation. Tony smiled fondly at his brother and took his hand in his own. Gregory did not like that smile; it told him Tony clearly wasn't taking him seriously. Tony was truly naive if he thought that he could dismiss him with a smile, as if what he had said that only on a whim. Gregory never acted on whims, never told empty words.

''It's my own decision to make, Greg.''

''No.'' He insisted. ''You will stop making weapons now if that is your wish, but you will not give up Stark Industries.''

''But-''

''After the lawyer read Howard's will,'' Greg interrupted brusquely. ''you told me you would take over the company and change it into something of your own, just to fuck with him.'' Both knew he was talking about Howard. ''That it'd be your revenge, a giant 'fuck you' he'd see from where he burns in hell.'' Tony looked down to his lap, replaying the memory in his head. Gregory rose to his feet and seized the brunette's shoulder firmly, making their gazes meet again. ''I want this to come true, Tony.'' He kissed his brother's forehead. ''I'll take care of everything.''

Tony watched in silent awe as Greg left the room. He lifted his hand up to his forehead, where he had been kissed. Gregory rarely ever showed his affection for him in such intimate ways. He must be really pissed, Tony thought.

Pepper and Rodhey came back in. They talked but Tony didn't pay much attention to them. Dread was building up deep in his guts; he knew all too well what his brother would be willing to do for him.

OoOoO

Forced out of childhood, Tony stopped doing what he liked to do and instead did what he was expected to do. The brothers were six years old when the change occurred. Despite Tony's best efforts to make his father proud, it soon became evident that whatever he did, it would never be enough; he would never be as good as his brother.

As he slowly grew up, Gregory's love for his brother became less superficial and more egoistical. He was still too young to know what to do and witnessed, powerless, to Howard's continued disrespect toward his brother, who was ever so sweet, ever so willing to please.

He used to love his mother for being the best to offer comfort to his brother, now he despised her for doing no more than that. As for himself? He protested of course. Screamed, insulted, punched his father, but he was easily dismissed. He wanted to grow up, have the strength and means to protect his brother, but until then, he'd have to wait for a miracle to happen.

And it did. The same year, their mother died.

Tony was inconsolable, but Greg delighted in the consequences that unfolded rapidly after Maria's death. Apparently, their mother's sudden departure meant that they were no longer needed in the mansion. The private tutoring stopped and they were sent to boarding school.

In those eight years they spent abroad, free from their father, they were the happiest.

Greg became even more intelligent -and so did Tony, now that he was free- and also more exclusive; his brother was his sole friend, while Tony had many. The fact that they were non-identical twins also became more and more obvious. Tony clearly took after their mother with his luxurious jet-black hair. He was not very tall, but had an inviting mouth meant to smile, soft features and tanned skin which were all very popular with the ladies. Not that Gregory himself wasn't everything that was attractive in all his tall, handsome, manly blondness, but he lacked Tony's sparkling personality and scared all except the bravest girls away.

Unfortunately, aged fourteen, they graduated and were expected to go back to New York and start at MIT the upcoming fall.

But Gregory wasn't a child anymore; he wouldn't let Howard hurt his brother, and Howard knew that too. The old man -good for him- had the presence of mind not to dare touch his brother. He was still an asshole and was never satisfied with what Tony said or did, but those moments were scarce and he mostly ignored them. Tony was not happy, but together with his brother, he was content.

OoOoO

Tony woke up early the morning of his second day at the hospital to find his brother sitting at his side. There was nothing surprising in that, but the look in the blond's eyes told Tony something was obviously wrong.

''What's wrong?'' Tony asked worriedly, sitting up in his bed. ''Look, if Obadiah won't let me break the contract, I'll just give up-''

''You can stop right there, Tony. It's got nothing to do with that old bastard. I've arranged everything.'' Tony blinked, then leaned subconsciously towards his brother, eager to hear more.

''Really? What did he say?''

''It's not important. I've got something more urgent to discuss with you. It's about that fancy pacemaker of yours.'' Tony sighed in relief.

''My arc reactor.'' He smiled proudly.

''Whatever you call it.'' Greg frowned. He handed Tony a folder which contained a series of test results and scan analyses. ''It might be regulating your heart problems and it's going to prevent any heart attack you might have from now on, but it's also slowly killing you. Tony, palladium is poisonous. We've got to either operate you or replace the palladium core with something else.''

Tony had to admit this was a big problem. The operation was exceedingly risky; he didn't need to be a doctor to know that and Yinsen had been pretty clear on his condition. As for the palladium, there wasn't any other existing element that would do the job as efficiently, and that was saying something.

''I'm screwed.'' Tony told his brother. Greg clenched his fists tightly. ''We have to come up with something to block the beta radiations. It'll be good enough only for a little while but it'll give us time to think of a solution.'' The older twin nodded his head in agreement.

OoOoO

At the mansion, Greg woke up at 6 am sharp as he did every morning. That was one of the many aspects in which the twins differed. Tony had very chaotic sleeping habits; sometimes sleeping only a few hours, sometimes sleeping in late until early afternoon, sometimes not sleeping at all. Greg, on the other hand, always went to bed at eleven, every single night. He did this purely for the sake of his mind always being at optimal capacity. His bio-clock was set and never derailed. He went out to run, came back for a shower and entered the kitchen at 7:30 am to sustain himself. He stopped abruptly in front of the breakfast counter, first surprised to see his brother there at this early hour. His throat tightened slightly as he took a more careful look.

His brother had apparently not noticed his presence, or at least had decided not to acknowledge it, as he stared blankly, mysteriously in front of him. Greg followed his gaze and found nothing worthy of such captivation. The usually bright and beautiful blue eyes were dulled and reddened by either fatigue or crying... probably broth, Greg suspected. He had deep dark shadows under his eyes and Greg concluded that Tony must have been sitting there for a while; the mug he was holding was full of coffee but it was not steaming. It just sat there, forgotten. He had never seen Tony look so wretched since their mother's death.

Quietly, he walked to his brother's side -who remained unmoving- and gently put his hand on his shoulder to make his presence known. Tony tensed and sucked in a gasp. Gregory did not move his hand, he gave small reassuring squeeze, inviting his brother to turn around to face him. He did and relaxed when their eyes met. Greg took a seat beside him at the counter.

''What's the matter?'' His voice was gently but his tone also suggested that he would not accept bullshit. He knew Tony's self-conscious nature; he knew Tony was scared of being a burden to anyone, thanks to their father. The look in Tony's eyes was heartbreaking though, he looked like the words were stuck in his throat.

''It's silly though.'' Tony offered him a little smile.

''I don't care.'' Greg replied and urged his brother to continue. ''Come on, tell me.''

''It's just...'' Tony start, looking down at his now cooled off coffee. ''Being in this goddamn house... with his icy presence everywhere... it reminds me of mom's death all the time.'' He looked back up at him. ''I felt more at home when it was just the two of us in our dorm.'' Greg let out a small sigh in relief. Tony had always been very sensitive. And Greg always got more worried and worked up than necessary when it came to Tony. He gave Tony's cheek a little squeeze with his index and thumb.

''We won't be here long. In a few months we'll have our own flat. It'll be much better than our cramped little dorm and we'll never have to come back here ever again.'' Tony nodded and smiled in reply, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes. There was a missing glint... and Greg wondered, was Tony telling him everything? Or was he really just worrying too much?

OoOoO

When Gregory entered his brother's room on the third day of his stay at the hospital, the nurse informed him that Tony would likely not wake up for another two hours as he was still on drugs. According to her, he would be allowed to take his leave late this afternoon. Greg nodded silently in response and took his seat beside his sleeping brother. The nurse was right; Tony looked to be deep into sleep. He was completely immobile. Greg did not particularly like the sight. He knew from their boarding school days that Tony was a messy sleeper; he moved, snored and drooled in his sleep. But right now, like this, Tony looked as good as dead.

When the nurse left the room, he allowed himself to take his brother's hand into his own. He stroke it gently, though internally chastising himself for it. He was disgusted with himself, but he could not help it. He squeezed the hand and kissed it. He let his lips linger on the soft brown skin for far too long before he turned his gaze to his brother's face. To his brother's lips.

OoOoO

After their little talk in the kitchen, Greg continued to observe his brother closely. He appeared to be feeling a little better, but it looked strained, forced. Nothing particular happened in those few days that passed since then, but Tony still wasn't quite himself. Greg really found it odd... they had been back home for almost three weeks now, and Tony had not looked so down before that day in the kitchen. Could it be the exposure? Was his brother truly unable to stay in this house? Greg doubted it. His brother was sensitive, but certainly not this weak.

The doubts and worry hunted him more and more, until he couldn't sleep. He sat up in his bed and looked at the time. So much for his bioclock. He ran his hands across his face, trying to wipe the fatigue off it without much success. The solution seemed simple enough now. They needed to get out. Certainly, their father did not care about them enough that he would force them to stay. If anything, he'd be glad to get the out of his sight. As long as they continued to succeed and carry his goddamn legacy. They hadn't even gotten back home for Christmas or summer holidays back when they were still in boarding school. He rose to his feet and looked outside the windows. Yes, they would leave this place.

Walking closer to the window, he noticed a faint light coming from his brother's room. Their rooms were separated by their private bathrooms and a living room in between them. He remembered when they used to play video games as children in that living room; Tony loved to play. Greg didn't particularly care about the games, but he liked beating Tony in those games. Father did not approve, of course. Every time their mother tried to spoil them, Howard would be right behind them and telling them to do something useful.

He sighed to himself. They would leave this place as soon as possible, and since Tony seemed to be awake, he might as well discuss it with him now. He didn't think he was going to be able to sleep unless he had truly found a solution to make Tony happy again. The corridors were pitch black, the moon being entirely covered by dark clouds, and it would have been impossible to know which way to if it hadn't been for the dim light coming from his brother's room, which barely was visible as Greg needed to take a turn on the right in the corridors until he reached it.

Before he turned the corner, he stopped dead. He could hear the soft muffled cries of his brother... and a voice. Their father's. Greg understood now. He did. He was silent, overcome with tremors. His throat was tight and blocked, could not breath, could only feel the hard pounding of his heart against his chest, as if it wanted to break free.

The door opened, casting Howard's shadow on the floor. Greg was still hidden behind the corner of the walls and the darkness.

''Remember what happens if you tell, Tony.'' He heard Howard whisper, then a sick little chuckle, then a zipping sound. He felt the bile rise from his stomach, and his shaking intensified. The steps were going opposite his direction and before long, the sounds were gone. His brother's chocked sobs too. Nothing again but the sound of his beating heart and of his blood boiling.

Gregory felt like he was outside of himself. His head felt faint and his body was moving quietly on his own. He returned in the direction of his room but passed right by it. He continued, in trans, through the dark corridors, brushing his limp hand against the wall and the ramps of the stairs to orient himself. He walked and walked until he felt the familiar coolness of the ceramic floor of the kitchen. He turned off the lights and went straight to opened that drawer, the one where the biggest and sharpest knife was. He took it in his hand and examined it carefully. It would feel so good to cut his father open with this. He closed his eyes and imagined the scene. When he opened his eyes again, he saw his refection in it.

That's when his head finally cleared.

The tremors started again, worse than before. He sucked in a deep shaky breath and felt his eyes starting to burn. He threw the knife with all the strength he did not know he had until now. The blade sank almost a full inch into the wooden cupboard door in front of him. He exhaling in out, fast, ragged breaths like a wild animal. He buried his hands in his hair and pulled at them until his scald hurt and bled. He tried to will himself to calm down, and he thought he had succeeded, he the thought of his brother's broken whimpers sent him into another fit of rage. He grabbed the knife again and pulled it out of the wooden door, clenching at the handle and thinking he had to do this. Had to feel and smell his father's blood on his hands, had to see his soul slowly, agonizingly leaving his eyes. He barely walked three steps before growling and letting out a broken barely audible cry as he let himself fall on the floor. He felt the wetness fall down along his cheeks and stay there, numb and immobile, but the hold on the knife solid.

He wanted to do this. But he couldn't. For his brother, he couldn't. If he did this -and god know he wanted to- he would be separated from his brother. He would never be allowed to see him again, he was sure of it. He would never be able to protect him with all his power and resources.

He would kill their father, he swore to himself he would, but not like this. It would be an unfortunate little accident, it would be clean and no one would ever suspect anything. It would be incredibly unsatisfactory, but he would do it.

But the truth was, he had failed. He had let this happen. He had been stupid and blind. He had been everything he prided himself in not being. And his brother, of course, had paid the price.

He spent the rest of the night planning. He would not waste time, would not let another night go by where his brother had to go through this. Before the sun had set again, Greg swore to himself, Howard would be dead. At five am, everything was set. Soon, Howard would leave to go to work and Greg tried to keep himself from talking to him one last time; it might be too hard, once he faced him, not to just strangle the man to death with his own hands. If he managed to restrain himself, he was afraid to let his intentions known. That moment was a strange one for Greg. Never in his life had he once been scared of losing control of himself and fail to carry out his plans. He had never cried either, much less the way he had that night. He also knew that if his affections for his brother was already unnatural, after tonight, he would never be able to let go of Anthony.

And despite knowing all this, Gregory still went to see Howard. He decided he had to. Had to look the man he was about to kill in the eyes one last time. He also had to try and understand why. Why Tony.

''Howard.'' He called out dryly later that morning, sensing his blood boiling within him when the man turned around. Howard was dressed in a suit, like he usually was when going to work, with his black suitcase in one hand. The man had been about to get into his car. He looked surprised to see his son there, and with reason; Gregory almost never initiated a conversation with his father, much less at such a time. Howard signalled to his chauffeur to wait a little and walked to Gregory.

''What is it? I have an important meeting this morning.'' Gregory clenched his fists tightly, digging his nails deeply into his skin to keep his cool. He looked straight into his father's eyes.

''Why do you hate Tony so much?'' Gregory spat out, sounding more angry than he had intended, but beating around the bush wasn't his style. He just hoped the man had not guessed he knew about his disgusting little secret. Gregory, however, genuinely suspected the man was too confident -and too stupid- to think that possible. He did seem, however, a little put off by the random question. Then, to Gregory's utter bewilderment, the man burst out into an obnoxious laugh.

''Oh Greg, you are not as bright as I thought you were if you truly think I hate Tony.'' He chuckled lowly again, his laugh everything disgusting to Gregory. ''I'm sorry to disappoint you, my prodigious son, but I've actually always preferred Tony.'' Gregory stared, speechless. His confusion must have been plain on his face; Howard continued:

''You are too intelligent to be manipulated. Tony, however, is like his mother. Soft and pliant.'' The tone in Howard's voice at those last few words made the bile rise within Gregory's stomach. He concealed his disgust the best he could. ''With the right methods, I'll make him be what I want him to be. It's a shame you seem to have inherited some of your mother's useless sensibilities, Gregory. You seem to like your brother too much to truly entertain all the possibilities.'' Gregory felt his mind slowly go numb again. ''I thought you were more like me, son. I thought you too would use your brother to fulfil your schemes. Perhaps sending you off was a bad decision after all.'' Howard remarked offhandedly then, having nothing more to say, turned back to his car without so much as a parting nod. When he sat in his car, the corner of his mouth curled slightly upward. His son looked shocked, to say the least. He was still young, Howard mused, but perhaps this conversation would get him to think.

Gregory barely took notice of his father's car leaving. He was trembling in both rage and fear; fear of himself. He was, to say the least, horrified by his father's confession. Howard might think all Gregory knew about his treatment of Tony was the physical abuse of youth and his present 'indifference', but Gregory knew much more and it sickened him to think Howard had not done this out of anger or because he was a pathetic paedophile... It was a scheme, he was manipulating Tony, like some clay he could model to his own liking for petty ambitions. Howard was so obsessed with leaving his trace in this world that he wanted to turn Tony into his little puppet, knowing that his eldest son would only surpass him and make everything he had even done obsolete.

It sickened even more to think that Howard thought he was like him, that he would be the kind to use his brother like the disgusting man had. Greg buried his hands in his hair, struggling to make the air come in and out of him evenly. He thought of his childhood, of the way he used to see his brother. As inferior, as childish and as a plaything. Greg cursed loudly to himself. He liked to think that was the past. Like to think his hatred for his father had made him see clearer, that he had grown to love Tony truly and completely, for who he was and to respect him as an equal.

Gregory gritted his teeth and looked at the car, now so far it was barely the size of a fly on the horizon. He loved his brother, but he was not like Howard. He was not like Howard. He would never touch his brother. Never use his brother like this. He was superior to Howard; he was stronger than his disgusting desires to make him his, like his father did. He swore to himself, he was stronger.

When the car was completely out of sight, Gregory turned back to the house. He sighed. It was over now. Before long, Howard would be dead.

Now back inside the mansion, Gregory waited patiently for Anthony to join him in the living room that separated their respective bedrooms. He knew all too well now why Tony did not sleep. He thought it better to let Tony alone for him to regain his composure -and the pretence- to get through the day like he lately did. As much as Gregory wanted to spit on every word Howard has said to him, he could not deny a certain truth about Tony: he was weak. Gregory knew too well that Howard had probably threatened Tony not to tell anybody -much less him- about what was going on. Tony had been weak enough to believe in those threats; to believe that he could not tell Gregory in fear of something happening to him. Gregory laughed bitterly. His little brother had been wrong to think so. He would soon prove it to him.

''Good morning.'' Gregory snapped out of his thought at the soft sound of his brother's tired and shaky voice. At that precise moment, Gregory reminded himself of his promise. He was stronger than his father. His brother was weak, and he could manipulate him if he wanted to, but he would not. He would protect him, and under his protection, Tony would grow to be the best person he could be. Free, accomplished and beautiful, like he was meant to me.

''Good morning.'' Gregory replied, then looked at the time. His brother's timing was perfect. ''Come,'' Gregory said, gesturing for his brother to sit beside him on the couch. ''Let's watch the news.'' Tony blinked, slightly confused, but silently did as told.

Greg turned on the TV and switched to the News channel. Tony watched with disinterest the reporter exposing the latest political events in the country when the phone rang.

''I'll get it.'' Tony said, rising from his seat to answer the phone.

''No need. Stay here.'' Gregory stopped him, tightly grabbing his arm and forcing him back on the couch. Tony frowned at his brother, but the latter never looked away from the screen.

''It might be important...''

''Just keep watching.'' Tony's frowned deepened, but decided not to insist. He focused again on the television. The phone rang out.

''Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry to interrupt our news report. A tragic event as just taken place. Earlier on the 7th avenue a violent car crash has taken the life of one of our country's most influential man, mister Howard Stark, and his chauffeur who has yet to be identified. An investigation on the cause of the accident will-''

Gregory turned the television off, then looked at his brother, watching closely for his reaction. The poor boy was speechless, trembling in what looked like an agonizing mix of disbelief and awe. He was looking back and forth between the now black screen and his brother, struggling for speech to come out. Gregory took his brother's hands in his.

''It's over.'' The phone was ringing again, but neither paid attention.

''Y-you...''

''I found out last night what he was doing to you. I took care of everything.''

OoOoO

''You sure you don't want a wheelchair?''

''Just because I can't tap-dance right now doesn't mean I need a wheelchair.'' Tony replied as he slowly walked out of the bathroom dressed in the suit Greg had brought him. He was limping slightly, still not having recovered all his strength. His arm was broken, and few ribs too. He was still bruised up and the sunburns still plainly visible, but he already looked better than when he had found him in the desert. Greg shook his head in disbelief. In the freakin' desert.

''The crap you go through, Tony... sometimes I just can't believe it. It's got to be a big fat cosmic joke.'' Tony said nothing in return, he knew not to when his brother spoke like this. Greg sighed at Tony's silence. ''Come on, let's go.''

In the car, Tony felt the sudden fear building up slowly in his guts again until he felt the urge to puke. He managed to control himself and tried to concentrate on the road. At the sight of the familiar building in which at the very top was their penthouse, the feeling faded slightly. After that awful time in the desert and then the hospital, Tony was infinitely grateful to see his and his brother's home again; it had been for the last eight years, ever since they had started to study at MIT. Neither of them had wanted to stay at the mansion after their father's death, and the proximity with the university was advantageous too. They left their car to be taken care of by the valet and went up directly.

''It's good to be home.'' Tony sighed, content, and sat down at his favourite spot on his favourite couch in the living room. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion take over. He felt weight shifting beside him. Greg had sat too, but kept quiet, as if not wanting to disturb him.

It pained Tony to think they'd leave this place and go their separate ways. Before he had been kidnapped, both he and his brother had started working on plans for their own house. Tony had already bought the perfect spot in Malibu; an isolated place by the sea. They'd both silently agreed that when they turned twenty five -when Tony inherited Stark Industries and when Gregory went along starting his own company- it would be the end of their cohabitation.

The truth was that Tony was reluctant to let go. He'd only ever felt at home and at ease with his brother and apprehended living on his own. But, he reasoned with himself, he could not be a burden to his brother any longer.

Little did Tony know, however, that Gregory was thinking almost the same thing. Gregory did not look forward to let his brother go. But just because he wouldn't physically be there with Tony anymore didn't mean he wouldn't keep a good eye on him. He spared a glance down at Tony's resting face, smiled, then grabbed the remote at his side and turned on the television and switched it to the news channel. Tony slowly opened his eyes, blinked at the TV then slowly sat up straight. Confusion, then panic, was visible on his face. He looked back and forth between the screen and his brother. Gregory only smiled at him.

''We are interrupting our news report to inform our audience of a terrible plane crash has just occurred at the JFK airport. The Stark Industries private jet was landing went the accident accident took place. The authorities on site already suspect the terrorist group who lately kidnapped the young heir Anthony Stark might be implicated. Three bodies have been found so far, one of whom has been identified as CEO Obadiah Stane. The two others were-''

Tony grabbed his brother's suit sleeve tightly and forced their eyes to meet.

''Tell me you did not do this Greg... please.'' His voice was soft, but the desperation was palpable. Gregory looked at him silently for a moment.

''Evidence will confirm their suspicion. The terrorist group will be held responsible.''

''Answer me, Greg.'' Tony repeated again, more firmly this time. ''Did you do this?'' Gregory sighed, then cupped his brother's cheeks with both his hands.

''I had no choice. He didn't want to let you stop producing weapons, much less give the company to you before the terms of Howard's will. It was the only way.'' Tony's mouth dropped slightly in bewilderment and he felt his eyes starting to burn. He clasped his hands over Gregory's, his nails digging slightly into the skin.

''You did have the choice! God Greg, why?! You can't just-! You can't kill people like that!''

''They deserved it.''

''That's not the question!'' Tony shook his head in denial, but Gregory didn't let go. ''You're better than this. I know it. Stop playing God! And what if you're found out? You'll be locked away or-''

''Don't be ridiculous!'' Gregory rose from his seat brusquely in anger. Tony rose right after him.

''You are!''

''Is that how you express your gratitude, now?'' Gregory said calmly, scorning at his brother. ''When Howard died, you cried in my arms for hours because you were just so relieved. And now this?'' Tony looked down and shook his head in disbelief. He took a step closer to his brother and set his hands on each of the taller man's shoulder, wanting to make sure he was perfectly understood. Unable to help himself, Gregory let his hands curl loosely around Tony's narrow waist.

''Obi might not have been a saint, but-'' He trailed off, unable to say the words. He closed his eyes and swallowed nervously. ''You are not a serial killer. You are my brother, Greg. Promise me you won't do this again... please.'' He begged.

''I'm sorry, little brother,'' Gregory replied, tightening his grip around Tony's waist. ''but I can't promise you that.''