13 years ago.

Tony Stark was a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. His life was easy and he didn't plan on changing it for anyone. He enjoyed doing what he wanted because there was no one to stop him; his father was the only person who could ever make him stop and now...

Tony pulled himself out of that thought and pulled another bottle of beer out of his fridge. There were hardly any left after the party the night before. Tony smirked at the memories before downing the drink. He should definitely invite that blonde model round some time.

'Jarvis!' He shouted. He had recently installed a robotic butler to his house and he enjoyed using the computer to its full potential. 'Clear my appointments for next Saturday. I'm having a party.'

'Yes sir.' Jarvis' wonderfully posh voice replied. 'Would you like me to let in your visitor?'

'What visitor?' Tony said, just as the doorbell rung. He ran downstairs, hoping the ringer was the blonde front the other night and pulled the door open.

No one. Not a soul. Tony rolled his eyes and was closing the door when he heard crying from the ground. Looking down, he saw a small bundle, a little face poking through the folds. Not wanting anyone to see, he picked up the baby and brought it inside.

A small letter was tucked into the bundle. Holding the child with one hand the same way he'd seen his father do when greeting orphans, he read the letter with his other hand.

Dear Tony,

This is your son. I will not reveal who I am because I think he will be better off without me. I'm sorry for dropping him on you but I'm sure you'll make a wonderful father.

D

Tony looked down at the baby, now asleep in his arms. His son? He had a son? He thought of his own father, ill and dying in hospital. Putting the letter down, he held his child tighter before walking back upstairs.

'Jarvis? On second thought, cancel all my appointments for next week. I want to spend more time with my son.'

'Very good sir. Could I ask, what's the boy's name?'

Tony looked down before smiling and replying. 'Howard. Howard Stark, II.'

14 years ago.

'I always wanted to be an uncle.'

Thor glares at Loki as the younger God leans over his new niece. Kia had arrived moments ago but her father hadn't gone near her. How could he, when Alfhilda, Thor's consort and Kia's mother, had died giving birth to the child? How could he look into those brown eyes, so like her mother's, knowing that it was the child's fault Alfhilda was no longer with them.

'It's not her fault.' Loki said, allowing Kia to grab hold of his finger. Loki's own son, Fenrir, the great wolf, stood next to his father, trying to get a look at his cousin without scaring her. Fenrir was only a cub but was already the size of regular, Midgardian wolf. 'Do not blame Kia for Alfhilda's death.'

'I had to trade my love for a child. A child who is small, weak.'

Fenrir pressed his nose through a small hole in Kia's cot, trying to learn what his cousin smelt like. He yelped as she punched his nose, sending him across the room.

'Weak, you say?' Loki smirked as he stood to leave.

'Where are you going?' Thor said, not wanting to be alone with his daughter.

'Your weak child broke Fen's nose.' Loki said, lifting his son into his arms. Nodding slightly, he headed for the door. 'I'm taking him to the infirmary.'

Thor watched him leave before collapsing into a chair, opposite from his baby's cot. He watched it, hoping nothing would happen to make him cross the room. Luck wasn't on his side as the baby started to cry. Thor glanced at the door, hoping Loki would come running back in but, not seeing his brother in sight, had to walk towards the cot.

Kia stopped crying the second she saw him. Satisfied, he turned to go but she cried the second he left her sight. Sighing, he picked her up, remembering years ago when he had to hold Loki like this.

She smiled up at him, pressing her face into his armour. He smiles slightly as a shock runs through his body from her touch and as thunder claps from outside. His little girl can control lightning, just like him.

10 years ago.

He was amazed they had managed to keep it a secret. When she had told him, he was sure they would have to get rid off it, lest SHIELD get their hands on it and turn it into a super spy like it's parents. But then they had been sent on a mission together, an intel mission where they had to stay in an isolated located for about half a year, maybe more. Clint and Natasha had been amazed at their good luck and was sure someone knew and would try to take their baby. But no one had come and now Clint was holding his little girl in his arms.

He couldn't stop looking at her. She had his hair colour but Natasha's curls. Her eyes, just like his, were currently closed, sleeping in the crook of his arm. Natasha was sat up in bed, watching them.

'What are we going to do?' She whispered, just loud enough for him for hear. He looked up, eyes widening slightly.

'We give her a name, we take her home and we raise her.' He said it like it was simple, making Natasha freeze slightly. She had never been more scared than when she found out she was pregnant. Strike that, she had been petrified when she told Clint. She had no idea how he was going to react and, at first, the look of his face made her believe that she would have to get rid of her child; there was no way she could raise it alone.

'What if they try to take her? I couldn't handle that.' Clint sighed, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. He passed their daughter over, letting Natasha hold onto the baby.

'They won't take her, we won't let them. But she needs a name, Nat.'

She looked down at her girl, snoring lightly in her arms. She tried to think of a Russian name, something from her past but nothing she thought of seemed to fit.

'I like Sophie.' Clint said, wrapping an arm around Natasha's shoulders. She smiled up at him.

'I like Sophie too.'

11 years ago

Bruce counted down from a hundred in his head, hands balled into fists. Although he was normally a calm person (he had to be), being refused entry into his wife's room and hearing his son's crying was to much to bear. He could feel the Other Guy trying to get out, wanting to do something, wanting to smash some heads and get inside to his child. Even if the Hulk couldn't understand Banner's love for Betty, his animal instincts allow him to understand Bruce's paternal feelings for little James Banner.

His son's screams increased and his head whipped up, eyes flashing green. For a few seconds, he thought he's imagined it but then Betty screamed and he's growling as soldiers are leaving her room, one of them holding onto little James.

They were taking his son.

He briefly noticed Betty shouting 'Bruce, no!' but Bruce wasn't in control anymore, merely watching through the Other Guy's eyes as he sped down the corridor, after the men who had taken his son.

'Don't let James be hurt.' Bruce shouted in their mind, getting, for the first time ever, an agreement in return.

The Hulk smashed through the doors of the Hospital, doctors running away as quickly as possible. Normally, this would annoy him enough to distract him but he was to focused on James and getting him back.

He knew which soldier had his son and he dispatched all the other quickly. They tried shooting him but the bullets simply bounced off, one even ricocheting into the chest of another soldier. Finally, it was just the two of them, facing each other. In one swift movement, Hulk won, without breaking a sweat. Using one hand to hold James close to him, he pushed the soldier away with with foot, sending him flying into the edge of the hospital.

Hulk looked down at his son and frowned slightly. James looks like Banner, a little carbon copy. No green in sight. Maybe, he thinks, he hopes, James'll have an Other Guy too and they can smash things together.

'Please don't.' Bruce whispered in Hulk's mind, not wanting his son involved in so much violence but knowing he would be. With a start, he realised this was the first time he's seen his son, through Hulk's eyes, with a view tinted with rage.

'Bruce!' He heard a voice from behind him and roared. Bruce wanted to tell Betty to stop but it's too late. Hulk, protecting his son, flung Betty into the wall and ran. Inside his mind, Bruce cried, while James cuddles closer to his father's chest, unaware that his mother has just been killed.

3 Month Ago

Steve was in the Gym, as usual. He had nothing else to do; he couldn't get a job, who would take him? He couldn't just go out, he had no idea how half the things in this time worked. He had tried to sign up to the Army again, there was no way they wouldn't accept him, but SHIELD had put a stop to it.

He had looked up Peggy to see what her life had been like after he 'died'. He found she had died a couple years ago, in a house fire that had killed her son, his wife and their daughter as well. This had devastated him, especially when he found out the son had been called Steve Rogers Jr, his son. Steve had cried himself to sleep that night, thinking of the son and granddaughter he had lost, the life he had destroyed when he crashed the plane. He visited their graves the next day and was shocked to find his own next to Peggy's. He had taken the flowers off that grave and placed them on his granddaughter's, Elizabeth Rogers.

The Gym doors opened behind him but he didn't turn. Other people came into the Gym all the time so he didn't need to acknowledge them. He just continued punching the bag, trying not to think of his past, trying not to think of Peggy. The bag was about to come off when it stopped moving.

A small head pokes around the side of the bag, smiling at him. The girl looked around 12 years old, with dirty blonde hair and very familiar brown eyes. Steve stared into those eyes, transfixed, for a few seconds before he managed to saw something.

'Hello, Miss. Who are you?'

She smiled, such a familiar smile. 'Well, sir, I'm looking for my grandfather.'

Peggy's eyes. His smile. Their granddaughter.

He held out his hand, trying not to act like a sap and start crying. 'Steve Rogers, lovely to meet you.'

'Lizzie Rogers. I've heard a lot about you.'

Before he could think rationally, she had pulled him into a hug and he was hugging her back. 'You're the only family I have.' He whispered, the thought suddenly striking him.

'And you're the only family I need.' Was what she whispered back.