~Dr. John Watson's Point Of View~ ~London Airport~

It was a relatively fog-less morning that found me at the London Airport, my bags packed, and my mind set to leave 221b Baker Street behind me. To leave it behind and all its memories of my friend Sherlock Holmes. His death had more than caused me grief... it had devastated me, it was destroying me day by day to see his familiar things lying about the flat, and I was so ready to move on.

I had arrived at my destination choice, of New York by a simple discovery. The discovery of my adoption. I was adopted by the Watson family some 25 (deal with it he regressed in age in my time line... ;p) years ago, my 'dear' sister Harry had brought it up after finding the papers as she was going through Mum and Dad's old things. My relationship with my family had always been strained and my adoption apparently was the reason.

Upon, finding out I was adopted I found that I had a brother. Philip 'Phil' Coulson, an American of 40 years of age. And an agent of some organization called SHEILD. I determined to find this brother of mine and had impulsively packed all the things I would need, informed Mrs. Hudson that I would continue renting my flat... or more precisely Mycroft, (since he was the one keeping an eye on me lately... and paying the bills.) I was certain he wouldn't want me to leave the country but it was something I had to do, so as I stepped onto the huge jumbo sized plane I nervously glanced around looking for Mycroft or his people.

Not a sign of them anywhere so I relaxed as I buckled myself in and as I felt the plane leave the ground I fell into a dreamless sleep. The first dreamless sleep that I had in several weeks. My mind was in a muddle as I woke hours later as I felt the plane landing, I straightened up in my seat and I looked through the nearby window at the night view of New York City. The lights were sparkling brightly, their brightness offsetting the relative darkness of the sky. All in all it was a sight to see, I wondered silently what my brother was doing. I wondered if he even knew of my existence.

My thoughts were put on hold as the stewardess announced that we could now unbuckle and exit the plane in an orderly fashion. Sighing I stood up and grabbed my duffel bag that I had shoved in the overhead storage compartment. Then I filed out in an orderly fashion behind everyone else. The airport terminal was packed to say the least and I nearly couldn't breath as I pushed through the crowd once I had went through the long customs process and found my other bag. Soon enough I found my way outside of the airport and I hailed a cab... or a taxi as it were. I gave him the directions to the hotel I had placed reservations at and sat back for the ride.

Thoughts of other taxi rides with my best friend flitted through my mind and I gasped for breath as my mind flashed back to times that Sherlock and I had rode in taxi's to various crime scenes. I heaved a deep breath as I carefully reigned in my thoughts and focused on the sights around me in order to stay sane. It seemed specters of my former life just couldn't stay away. Everywhere I turned memories of Sherlock were there, it seemed I couldn't escape my best friend even after watching him jump to his death. I shivered at the repetitive image of Holmes falling to his death replayed over and over in my mind. Thankfully I was pulled from the dark images in my mind as the cabbie told me I had arrived at my destination.

The 'Liberty Harbor Hotel' was a posh looking hotel, which I chose purposely, knowing that Mycroft would have found out where I was by then and he would insist that all charges be forwarded to him. So I had decided to make the best of it and get more posh accommodations than I was used to. I paid the cabbie with American money, and tipped him generously.

"Thanks man!" the cabbie called out as he drove off once I removed myself and my bags from the taxi. I gazed up at the towering hotel and I couldn't help but feel something akin to wonder as I entered the building and gazed at my posh surroundings. My bags were quickly taken from me as I signed in and then I followed one of the bellhops to my room on the 7th floor. I tipped the boy and settled into the room.

Pulling out my cellphone I saw that I had a number of missed calls from Lestrade and Mycroft. And several text messages from Mycroft.

~John, I do hope that your trip was satisfactory. I am not happy that you left without informing me, however I will overlook it and in turn pay for your hotel and expenses. You'll find a credit card for your use as long as you want on your nightstand.~ 'MH'

I quickly sent him a text telling him thanks and that I would use it when I deemed it necessary. Then I decided to get a shower and some food before I went and located my long lost brother. After an extremely hot shower and some food per room service I slipped on some blue jeans and a red t-shirt with a grey jumper on over it. I slid my phone into my pocket and then picked up the file from my suitcase that held my birth certificate and adoption papers. The file was hot in my hand almost burning with the information that had changed a part of my life. There were things even Sherlock hadn't known about me, things Mycroft didn't know...but this was something they hadn't known and even I hadn't known. My parents had covered my adoption extremely well and let's just say I was furious with them.

With each moment that passed I was coming closer to the idea of boarding the next flight to London as soon as possible. But for some reason I found myself standing and walking out of my room and grabbing the cane that Mycroft had insisted I have. One with a sabre made into it... unusual indeed but a sense of comfort as I left the hotel and hailed a taxi as I waited on the sidewalk patiently.
"Where to?" the cabbie asked in a casually annoying tone.

"Avengers' Tower." I said and the cabbie blinked furiously.

"You sure?"

"I do believe I spoke in a clear way. And I am very sure as to where I want to go." I said letting a bit of the aristocratic air I had learned from both of the Holmes' brother's flow into my voice. The cabbie cringed at my tone and added a quick 'yes sir' and we were off. I pondered what I was going to say when I came face to face with my brother.

When I had looked for information on my brother I found a picture of him and was startled at his appearance, he was the opposite of me. Taller than me at six foot, his hair was a dark brown color, a great contrast to my blonde hair, but his eyes were blue like mine... not such an unusual hue of blue like mine but there was something similar in his eyes. Like he had seen too much in his short life. Eighteen years difference was a big deal... apparently Phil had been training to join SHEILD when I was born, that is if I had calculated the timeline correctly. The sudden lurch of the taxi alerted me to the fact that I had arrived at my destination.

Paying the cabbie I stepped outside and looked up at the looming Avengers' Tower. It was an overwhelmingly intimidating building, and I felt myself second guessing myself as I limped toward the door. I made it to the front door when what I assumed to be an Artificial Intelligence called out to me.

"Sir, who are you and do you have an appointment to see Mr. Stark?"

I was speechless I never thought I would be at the Avengers Tower about to seek for my last living blood relative. Fear crept up my spine but with my military training kicking in I stood ramrod straight and tried to make a decision. In a split second I made my choice.

"I am here to speak to Agent Phil Coulson." I said... and silence greeted me. My mind was flooded with questions... I knew that this was the address that was on the file I had scrounged up. I waited and waited for an answer... honestly I don't know how long I was waiting.

~Inside The Tower... Tony's Point Of View~

It had been a quiet Friday in the Tower and all the Avengers were gathered in the living room watching a movie. The Alien invasion of New York had taken its toll on all of us, not to mention the death of Phil. Everyone was under a huge strain his death had taken something from all of us. Clint and Natasha had taken it the hardest out of all of us as they had known him longer than the rest of us, but we all felt it. We were half way through the movie when Jarvis made a startling announcement. One that shook up the fragile hold we had on reality.

"Master Stark there is a gentleman outside requesting to speak to Phil Coulson. He appears to have a file with information about Agent Coulson," Jarvis said calmly and I felt the air rush out of my lungs, "I have already contacted Director Fury and he is on his way with Agent Hill."

"Thank you Jarvis and let the man in," I replied and turned to my team, "Be on your guards. I don't like the feel of this." I finished as I heard the elevator come to a halt on our floor.

The doors slid open and out stepped a man who looked about twenty-five years old, with sandy blonde hair, and a cane clutched in one hand and a file held tightly in his other. He had the distinct air of a military man in his stance and as he approached us I saw his eyes... and I was startled to say the least, his eyes were a unique color of blue, and there was something in them that was so familiar.

"Excuse me. My name is John Watson." the man said in a startlingly British accent.

"Oh, well my name is Tony Stark." I said in a stunned voice.

The others went on to introduce themselves and I carefully watched Watson as he listened as each introduction was made. He was getting fidgety once a few minutes had passed after introductions until Fury and Agent Hill arrived. They strode into the room with complete confidence and the glare that Fury sent toward Watson was not lost on me.

"Why do you want to talk to Agent Phil Coulson Mr. Watson?" Fury practically growled at the man who was calmly standing in the living room.

"I wish to speak to him about a matter of a personal sort... one that was just recently brought to my knowledge." Watson said as he fingered the file in his hand carefully.

"Can't you just go? Just go and leave us alone. Coulson is DEAD! He is DEAD!" Agent Hill spat with venom at the mild-mannered looking man.

"De-e-ad? No... you can't be serious?" the man said and his hand clutching the file began to tremble ever so slightly, "And... I just found out." He practically whispered the last part.

"Found out what?" Fury asked with a firm voice.

"Nothing. I'll leave you and your selfish group." he made a move to leave and the file slipped from his hand and the contents scattered across the floor. He scrambled to pick them up, but Fury retrieved them first. Fury read them one by one and through it all the man called Watson looked like he would blow a fuse. Suddenly, Fury glanced up at Watson and a look of sorrow shone in his eyes.

"You... your his brother?" he asked and the man nodded slightly.

"I guess so... but now it doesn't matter does it? So I'll just go somewhere and..," he trailed of his blue eyes full of pain, "die."

Agent Hill paled slightly as she heard the man's wish for death slip from his lips. And his words drew everyone to his appearance. His face was haggard and the bags under his eyes showed how tired he was. His clothes were baggy which suggested he had lost weight... all in all he looked terrible.

"I don't think your brother would have wanted that." Clint said softly as he took a step toward Watson.

"Well, how do you think you'd feel if you watched your best friend jump to their death and then discover that you were never who you were told you were. Your family isn't your family. Then you go looking for your last blood relative only to find that they're dead. I think I have every right to want to die thank you. And don't you talk back to me." he barked back at Clint and I saw him rub his head like he was dizzy and the next thing he was out cold on the floor.

As we got Watson to the med lab I wondered what would happen after all that was revealed. I didn't know but I sure wanted to find out.