Summary: Pepper liked to think that she knew most everything about Tony Stark, that she'd been around long enough, but one phone call and a trip out to Brooklyn proved her very, very wrong. Guest starring Logan, Jean Grey, Charles Xavier, and Peggy Carter. Rated for mild language.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: I took the liberty of completely ignoring X-Man: The Last Stand, as I'm sure most of the fandom does. To that effect, I'm using the plot point of Days of Future Past and allowing that when Logan goes back in time, he alters events and saves everyone.

Aunt Peggy

Pepper glanced over one more time to stealthily peruse the architect's rendering of the future Stark Tower. When she was satisfied, she shifted, reclining more comfortably in the back seat of the town car they'd rented, and raised an eyebrow. "Do you think the letters are going to be big enough?"

He ignored her, looking down at the plans with a critical eye. They had traveled to New York City while renovations on the Malibu House were underway, both to refrain from being underfoot and to try and regain some of the equilibrium that they both seemed to need after the Vanko incident. Happy had traveled with them and was currently driving back to their hotel from the site of the newly christened Stark Tower. He turned the rented car smoothly down Park Avenue and Pepper took a moment to surreptitiously study Tony as he inspected the building schematics.

The billionaire was still recovering from the palladium poisoning that had nearly killed him, the brightness of his newly-cored arc reactor glowing softly through the linen of his dress shirt. She bit back on a frown, remembering with disdain the fact that he hadn't told her about it and had instead gone on a wild "bucket list" spree.

Tony glanced up at her and caught sight of the wrinkling of her nose. He glared slightly. "Stop thinking about it."

"I'm not thinking about anything," she protested, too quickly.

"You're thinking about the palladium," Tony countered flatly. "You should have just taken the omelet. I bet you will next time."

Pepper straightened in her seat, as much as she could with her stocking feet in Tony's lap. "There won't be a next time."

"Of course not," he agreed easily. "There's no palladium in this core. I really should get around to naming the new element. What do you think about Starkonium?"

"It sounds pretentious," she told him, settling back into her corner of the backseat.

He shrugged. "Then it fits with Agent Romanoff's assessment, doesn't it?"

"I thought she was spot on," Pepper murmured, a smile on her lips. Tony tweaked one of her toes in chastisement, returning his gaze to the plans.

"You're right," he finally said. "We should increase the size by fifteen percent."

"You're deplorable," she murmured, unsuccessfully hiding her fond grin. "Absolutely deplorable."

"You think it's cute," he reminded her as his cellphone began to ring merrily in his pants' pocket. He leered lightly, arching an eyebrow at her. "Going to get that?"

"You can answer your own phone," she told him, propping her right arm on the door of the car and poking him with one foot for emphasis.

"I'm disappointed," he said, curling a hand around her ankles to keep them from slipping off of his lap. He pulled his phone from his pocket and answered. "Tony Stark."

Pepper glanced idly out of the window and half listened to Tony's side of the conversation, her eyes losing focus as people raced by on the sidewalks. She was jarred from her monotony by a sharp "no."

Tony's face was tense, his voice terse as he gave instructions to the person on the other end of the line. "You will not, under any circumstances, give her any kind of sedative without my permission. Do not medicate her. Do not touch her. Do not breathe near her. I am on my way."

Abruptly, he ended the call and dropped the phone in his lap. Pepper sat up quickly, swinging her feet to the floor in time for Tony to shift forward. He leaned over the front seats. "Happy, we are going to the Saint Agatha's Assisted Living Home. It's in Brooklyn."

Happy glanced upwards, meeting Tony's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Aunt Peggy?"

"Aunt Peggy," Tony confirmed grimly. Happy's reply was to switch into the faster lane and accelerate as much as he could in New York City traffic.

Tony scooted back, his expression still strained. Pepper waited patiently as he visibly tried to calm down. After a few minutes, she curled one leg beneath her, easing towards him. He flicked his eyes towards her at the movement, noting the questioning expression on her face.

"Did I never tell you about Aunt Peggy?"

Pepper shook her head, winding her arms around his torso to try and relieve some of the tension gripping his muscles. "Was she a nanny?"

"She was a friend of my father's. From the war," he muttered softly, covering one of her hands with his own. "Peggy Carter. She's a British national, but she moved here when the war ended to carry on with her work in the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Dad made her the first head of SHIELD in forty-six."

"They must have been close," Pepper murmured.

He nodded absently. "They were. Aunt Peggy half raised me. She was always there for me when I needed her."

"So why didn't you mention her before now?" Pepper questioned delicately.

"She developed Alzheimer's not long after my parents died," Tony explained. His voice was casually nonchalant, but Pepper could read the depth of feeling behind the words. She hummed wordlessly, the noise sympathetic, and Tony offered her a small smile. "I wanted to keep her memories to myself."

"Then, what's going on?" Pepper asked softly, curling her fingers around his.

He exhaled heavily. "She has her good days and her bad days. Today is a bad day."

Tony turned to the window, pressing his lips together, which Pepper took to mean that he was finished with the conversation. They fell silent, each wrapped up in their own thoughts as the car meandered through the city. Skyscrapers gave way to tenement homes and then to stately brick mansions, looking eerily out of place in the depths of the city.

Happy slowed the car and turned into a paved driveway, and Pepper realized that they were at their destination. The gray stone buildings of Saint Agatha's took up an entire city block, green ivy trailing up the walls. Happy pulled the car up to the main building and Tony flung the door open before the vehicle had even stopped. Pepper bolted after him as he stormed into the lobby.

The girl at the receptionist's desk couldn't be more than twenty-two, fresh out of school, and she was completely unprepared for the hellstorm that was heading her way. Pepper almost felt sorry for her. The young woman looked up at their approach and pasted a smile on her face.

"Good morning, how can I -," she began, her voice trailing off as Tony completely ignored her, heading down a hall to their left. "Hey wait!"

He paused so swiftly that Pepper nearly ran into him. "What?"

The girl swallowed nervously as he stared at her over his shoulder. "You have to sign in."

Pepper inhaled sharply, staring at the back of Tony's head with wide, unblinking eyes. He turned completely around, his eyes blazing, and pierced the girl with a glare. "Do you know who I am?" he demanded.

"Yes sir," she answered, her sense of self-preservation finally kicking in.

"Then sign the fucking sheet yourself," he snapped, continuing down that hall. Pepper shot the frantic girl an apologetic glance and hurried after him.

Halfway down the hall, two orderlies blocked the doorway to one of the rooms, both stoically trying to explain something to someone inside. Tony narrowed his eyes at the sight and braced himself for impact. Throwing his shoulder into the narrow space between them, he pushed his way into the room.

"Howard!" Peggy exclaimed, half rising from the chair at her vanity as Tony barreled past the orderlies, knocking them out of his way.

"Mister Stark," one of them began. He was clearly younger than his counterpart, and no more intelligent. "We're just trying to explain to Miss Carter -,"

"Shut up," Tony seethed. "Were you not given express instructions?"

The orderly stammered incoherently, turning to his associate for help, and Pepper inched through the door.

The woman in the center of the room was quietly elegant, in an old-fashioned way. She wore a timeless skirt suit tailored to fit her perfectly, the color a deep navy that complemented her complexion. Her silver hair was styled in victory curls, one large lock sweeping over her brow before being caught up in a pin behind her ear, and her thin lips were painted with brilliantly red lipstick.

Pepper remained near the door as Tony's conversation with the orderlies escalated. The tiny space was soon filled to the brim with noise, each man trying to be heard over the one next to them, until a distinctly British tone could be heard above the others.

"Good gracious, what are you wearing?" Peggy demanded, and Tony swiveled to see that she was staring agape at him. "You look like a homeless person in those clothes. And get yourself a razor. Whatever that is on your face is going to have to go."

Pepper slammed a hand over her mouth, snickering, as Tony rolled his eyes. "It looks dignified."

"Like hell it does." The woman snorted and gestured to him, laughter in her voice. "It looks like you painted it on. Honestly, Howard darling, you've made some questionable fashion choices before, but this might be the worst."

"I don't think my fashion is the problem here," Tony murmured, his voice lilting oddly. It was different, his accent harkening back to a bygone era and Pepper realized that he was slipping into the persona of Howard Stark for Peggy's benefit. Pepper watched him with her brows raised as he eyed Peggy and asked softly, "What's going on, Pegs?"

"These insolent whelps won't let me out of here," Peggy muttered petulantly, frowning and averting her gaze. "I have to get to headquarters soon. Pierce is bringing in his new recruit, one Nicholas Fury. I want to meet him before Alex gets his hopes up."

"It sounds like a good plan, Pegs."

She scowled at him as he abandoned the orderlies and pulled up a chair, sitting across from her. "You know I hate that nickname."

Tony grinned charmingly at her. "And you know I love it."

"Stuff it, you," she mumbled. "Get me out of here."

He arched a brow at her leadingly. "And why can't you get yourself out of here?"

"Do you want me to hurt them?" Peggy gestured incredulously towards the orderlies as they stood awkwardly near the wall. "I may be old, Howard, but I can still take down a man or two if needs be."

"I know you can, Pegs," he replied, matter-of-fact, not soothing. "And thank you for not breaking their faces."

"Well, I know how you hate blood on the carpet, darling." She patted his hand. "It's why I didn't hurt them, even when they tried to force me to take this medicine."

Tony froze, and slowly turned to glare menacingly at the orderlies, who glanced guiltily away. "Did they?"

Peggy smirked at the nervous movements. "I, naturally, refused."

"Well, they weren't very polite," Tony admitted, seeming to rein in his anger. "But the medicine is actually a new system we're trying out for vaccine delivery. Everyone needs to be up-to-date. Including you."

Peggy eyed him curiously and Pepper was almost afraid that she wasn't going to believe Tony, but, after a few long moment, she let out a short laugh. "Then why the hell didn't they say so?"

"They're new." Tony shrugged dismissively. He twisted back, extending a hand. One of the orderlies stepped forward and placed a syringe into his palm. He turned it over in his fingers and glanced up at her through his lashes. "Would you like me to give it to you?"

"Yes, I rather think so," she answered. She raised an eyebrow at the orderlies, who were still lurking in the corner as she began unbuttoning her jacket. "You can return to your posts now, men."

Tony gave them a stern glance and they quietly retreated. Pepper returned her gaze to the tableau in front of her and found herself staring into the sharp brown eyes of Peggy Carter. The older woman tilted her head slightly and pulled her jacket off, still contemplating Pepper.

"You could have said that you were busy, Howard," the old woman chided softly, nodding at Pepper. She rolled her left sleeve up past her elbow. "I would have waited."

Tony smiled genuinely as he swabbed an alcohol wipe across Peggy's bicep and uncapped the needle. "I'm never too busy for you."

"God, you're a terrible flirt." She suppressed a small smile as he gently plunged the needle into her skin, the action not fazing her. She sighed, overly dramatic. "I can't take you anywhere."

"Don't say that, Pegs," Tony entreated, setting the used needle on the vanity table. He took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over the wrinkled backs with deceptive tenderness. "You know you're my favorite."

She smiled at him. "I'm immune to you, darling. Save your breath."

"I'm devastated," he countered, doing his best to look wounded. They shared a laugh and he sobered momentarily. "The vaccines are not being tolerated very well by some of the agents, so you may need to lie down and rest for a while."

Peggy rolled her eyes. "This couldn't have waited until I wasn't running late?"

"Knowing you," he began lightly. "You'd conveniently forget for a few weeks. And that's not safe. Don't worry about Pierce. I'll handle that."

"Have it your way," she sighed, her mouth quirking fondly. She stood and wobbled, her equilibrium off. "Oh. You should tell research that they need to work on that reaction time. It's a bit fast."

"I'll get right on that." Tony gripped her firmly beneath her arms and steered her towards her bed. "In fact, you can tell them when you wake up."

She sat heavily on the edge of the mattress, slowly kicking her practical heels off. "You're right," she groaned. "It's better that I tell them. I'm much more effective."

"If you mean that they're terrified of you," he murmured wryly. "Then yes."

She glowered halfheartedly at him, and then her eyes lit up. "Howard, darling, I almost forgot. You have to contact the team."

"The team," Tony repeated, stretching the words out as he tried to remember what she could be talking about.

"Yes, the one in the Arctic that's looking for Steve," she continued, oblivious to the way that he froze, stunned. "I want them mobilized for another search. I think I have a plan."

She yawned widely, one hand delicately hovering over her mouth as the sedatives kicked in. "Remind me to tell you later. I'm just going to have a little catnap. And then we'll talk about Steve."

"Of course," he replied absently, his voice strangled, but she was already asleep. Tony gently pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed and laid it over her. Tugging one corner closer to her chin, he smoothed the wrinkles from the fabric and reclaimed his chair, setting it on the other side of the room.

Pepper finally stepped forward. "Tony?"

He turned at the sound of her voice and she watched as his eyes refocused on her, and then narrowed. "I want a pot of coffee, a cot, my tablet from the car, and those two idiots back in here so that they can tell me what the fuck they thought they were doing."

Pepper blinked rapidly, taken aback by the vehemence in his tone. "Of course."

Stepping into the hallway, she put her questions on hold and found the two orderlies a few doors down, sending them back to Peggy's room. When Tony's voice began to echo behind her, she smiled grimly, not feeling the slightest bit of sympathy.

The poor girl at the receptionist's desk was still there, shaking like a leaf, but she'd been joined by a matronly older woman, who looked like she'd seen a few figurative warzones in her time. She seemed like a no nonsense kind of lady, a veritable Nurse Hatchet if Pepper had ever seen one. The nurse was a natural brunette that was going gray, the chocolate strands fading and interspersing with dark gray sections. Pepper pasted on her best polite smile and aimed for the newcomer, noting that her nametag read 'Vera.'

"Hello Vera, I'm Pepper Potts."

The older woman gave her a quick once over and spoke with a voice that was gravely from years of smoking. "You're here with Mister Stark," she stated blandly. "What does he need?"

The young girl made a protesting noise in her throat, but Pepper was impressed. "He'd like a cot, if you have one to spare, and coffee."

Vera nodded sagely. "I'll have a cot brought in," she replied, already reaching for the phone. "As for coffee, there should be a maker in the back that we can spare."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate it," Pepper murmured, falling silent as Vera barked orders into the mouthpiece. When she hung up, she looked almost kind.

"Anything for Mister Stark." She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her scrubs' pocket and tapped the end on her palm, an involuntary tic. "That young man has been coming here for as long as I can remember, and he always remembers to leave a generous donation on top of the annual fees. Plus, he's good for Miss Carter."

Vera eyed Pepper askance. "He's never brought anyone, though."

Pepper smiled awkwardly, inching idly towards the door. "I suppose I'm special."

"It's about time he thought so too," Vera murmured. She smiled innocently as Pepper walked out to the parking lot. Happy was standing beside the car and gladly opened it for her. She retrieved a few things, including Tony's tablet, and returned to Peggy's room.

The cot had been brought in and was placed against the far wall. Tony was sitting in a chair at the end of the bed, his feet propped up on edge. He murmured a thank you when Pepper handed him the StarkPad and mentally dismissed her.

She knew him too well to be offended, so she set herself up on the cot with her papers and proceeded to work wordlessly with Tony, waiting for Peggy to wake up.

The sun was dipping low in the sky, yellow beams gilding the planes of the furniture, when Peggy finally stirred. She moaned softly and Tony dropped his StarkPad to the floor. She levered herself onto her elbow, rubbing a hand across her brow.

Tony leaned forward. "Pegs?"

Peggy's gaze snapped to him, her eyes narrowing. "When have you ever been allowed to call me that, Anthony Edward Stark?"

He dropped his gaze to his hands, grinning. "Never."

"Quite right," she groaned, sitting up. She looked down, finally seeming to realize what she was wearing and tugged lightly on her suit jacket. "How bad was it this time?"

"You didn't hit anybody," Tony offered. She fixed him with a glare and he sighed. "You thought that you were going into work. And that I was Dad."

She reached out a hand, palm up. "I'm sorry, dearheart."

"S'fine." He shrugged and looked away for a moment. Peggy eased her feet to the floor, rubbing tenderly at one knee. Tony watched her and then spoke softly. "You want to tell me what you were thinking?"

Peggy arched an eyebrow at him. "About what?"

"You told me to call the team in the Arctic," he answered gently, reaching out a hand when she averted her gaze. "Aunt Peggy, come on."

She groaned. "It was a long time ago, dearheart."

"Tell me anyway," Tony entreated casually. "I'm bored. What teams?"

Peggy rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, did you pay any attention when the will was read?"

"No," he answered succinctly. "What teams?"

Her eyes grew distant, misting over with memories as she stared into the corner of the room.

"I was on the phone with Steve, with Captain America, when he went down with that plane," she murmured quietly. Peggy refocused on Tony, smiling slightly. "Did I ever tell you that?"

He shook his head wordlessly, reaching out a hand. She gripped his fingers tightly, focusing on their clasped hands.

"I heard the line go dead, but I knew just enough of Erskine's science, of that changes that had been made to Steve's DNA, to truly believe that he had died when the plane crashed. And that gave me hope.

"After the war ended, I left England for New York to continue my work with the SSR. Your father finished up his part in the Manhattan Project and began a search for the cube, HYDRA's secret weapon. He sent a team back from the sea with it, but he stayed out on that boat. When I called him to ask why, he told me that he was looking for the plane.

"I was so bloody relieved, it was almost ridiculous. I told him my thoughts and he agreed." She smiled at Tony. "I had an ally now. Your father was just as bad as I was, too afraid to believe that another one of his friends was gone. Once we started collaborating, I had the belief and he had the resources to fuel our searches for years.

"We knew that the plane had been damaged, but neither of us knew the extent, and so he could have landed anywhere. It was worse than looking for a needle in a haystack, because then, at least, we knew where the haystack was."

Tony shifted in his chair, completely intent on Peggy and her story. "So what made you think that you had found him?"

"Oh, I didn't, dearheart," she murmured, her eyes suspiciously bright. "But I wanted them ready, because I had a lead."

"By the sixties, we at SHIELD had our fingers in so many pies, we could hardly keep up with them all. With the Cold War going on and the emergence of that damned Winter Soldier, we were up to our elbows in trouble. But then we heard about Xavier."

Tony frowned, leaning forward. "What the hell is an Xavier?"

She smiled at him, the expression sly. "A mutant."

"A what?" he stared at her, agape. She chuckled softly, squeezing his hands as she explained.

"Doctor Erskine postulated that the DNA in our bodies could become mutated, developing an extra gene in utero."

"Like how those with Down's Syndrome possess an extra chromosome," Pepper interjected quietly, speaking for the first time in hours. Peggy glanced up at her.

"Yes." The older woman's brow furrowed as she focused on Pepper again. "I'm sorry, dear, but who exactly are you?"

"That's Pepper and introductions are not important right now," Tony answered swiftly. "What's the big deal about this gene?"

Peggy frowned at him. "Don't be rude. Introductions are always important."

"You're so British," he muttered beneath his breath.

Pepper suppressed a smile and joined them, extending a hand to Peggy in a firm handshake. "I'm Pepper Potts, former personal assistant and current CEO of Stark Industries."

"Well that's a bit of a leap," Peggy observed, her eyes focusing shrewdly on Pepper. "One could easily wonder how that happened."

"I did it," Tony announced. "She's also my girlfriend."

"Your what?" Peggy asked immediately, looking shocked. "I had no idea you knew what those were."

Pepper floundered for a moment, spluttering in the wake of Peggy's tease. "I wasn't aware that we had labels."

"Well, we do," he muttered, shooting her an annoyed glare before giving his attention back to Peggy. "Can we get back to the 'mutants walk among us' observation? Because I really want to know why this extra gene matters."

"Oh alright," Peggy sighed. "But you are going to explain yourself later, young man, do you hear?"

"Absolutely," he agreed, far too quickly for Peggy's liking, judging by the irritated expression she wore. "Now, mutants."

Peggy glared halfheartedly at him and rolled her eyes. "This extra gene is known as the x-gene, and the effects are different for each person. It seems that there's no limit to their abilities, either."

"What could Xavier do that you thought you needed?" Pepper asked. "You mentioned that he was a changing factor."

"Charles Xavier was a geneticist, getting a doctorate at Oxford in the early sixties. He studied Doctor Erskine's work while he was there, even appealing to the last military vestiges of the SSR for the Project Rebirth files." Peggy shifted on the mattress, groaning as she rose on creaky knees. She smiled thinly at her rapt audience. "He was denied, of course, summarily. It didn't seem to stop him, though. He completed his studies, and then after the incident in Cuba, I thought that confronting him was worth a try."

"What incident in Cuba?"

Peggy smiled apologetically at Pepper. "That's still very classified and not in my jurisdiction, dear. All I can tell you is that the government had been researching mutants for some time, and Cuba simply confirmed their existence."

"Why?" Tony asked into the sudden quiet. "Why him?"

"Xavier has the unusual abilities of telepathy and mind reading, among other things, on top of possessing a genius level intellect." Peggy grinned at their stunned expressions. "Most important was the mind reading. He can only communicate with the living, you see.

"So I thought that," she swallowed thickly. "I thought that, if he could read Steve's mind, then it would be proof. We could finally find him."

"So, why didn't you?"

Peggy looked up at Pepper, her eyes bright. "After Cuba, Howard and I both tried to get a hold of him, but he'd dropped off the grid. No one we talked to had any clue of his whereabouts, and when things began heating up in Eastern Europe and with Stark Industries, neither one of us could afford to take massive amounts of time to locate him."

"So you put everything on the back burner," Tony summed up. Peggy smiled gently at him, the expression sad.

"Life, sometimes, gets in the way of dreams. And this was never more than a dream." She clapped her hands together. "Now, I believe you owe me some explanations, dearheart."

It was well past dark when Tony finally pulled himself away from Peggy's side, making promises to visit more often, no matter her state of mind, and to not get into too much trouble, which Pepper was sure he didn't mean to keep.

She walked quietly at his side as they left, uncertain about how to act for the first time. He was on his tablet for the duration of the ride back to the hotel, the car ride wordless while he worked. It wasn't until they were both nearly ready for bed that Pepper finally figured out what to say.

"Do you need me to make an appointment with him?"

Tony arched an eyebrow in her direction, his gaze steadily on her as she emerged from the bathroom. "With who?"

"Professor Xavier," she replied, slipping beneath the covers at his side. "I presume you've found him?"

"Yes." He averted his eyes, choosing to focus on the project details he was fiddling with on his StarkPad. "And thank you, but no. I think I'm just going to show up."

"So polite," she murmured, settling on her side, facing him. She watched him work for a moment, thinking idly. "What happens if Xavier finds him?"

"Then Aunt Peggy gets the reunion she's always wanted," he muttered, twitching another component into place on his tablet. "Everyone's happy."

Pepper watched him silently, wondering how a man so brilliant could be so dense sometimes. Sighing inaudibly, she shifted on the mattress and asked the one question she knew he wouldn't want to contemplate.

"And what happens if Xavier can't find him?"

"Then he can't find him," Tony replied, changing another detail on the rendering. He glanced over at her rolling his eyes at her blank look. "She knows it's almost a fool's errand anyway. She called it a dream herself. Aunt Peggy has lived without Captain America for this long. It won't be any different than it is now."

Pepper silently disagreed, thinking back to when Tony was in the desert and all she had was the hope that he would be found. Peggy had been existing on hope for decades, and the thought that those hopes would finally be dashed made Pepper cringe. She fidgeted with the blanket, suddenly unsure of herself. "I'm not going to tell you not to go. But I want you to think about what you're going to do in either case."

"Why?" There was a soft thwap and she realized that he'd dropped the tablet on the nightstand and was consequently staring at her challengingly.

"You're brilliant with machines, Tony, but your people skills aren't as good as they could be," she began hesitantly.

"I am excellent with people," he countered firmly.

"But you can't tell me why this might be a bad idea?" she asked, her voice purposefully gentle.

He simply glared expectantly at her for a few moments with his aggravation showing plainly on his face. She sighed softly and sat up, tugging the covers to her chest.

"If Xavier can't find him, that means that she's been holding out hope for nothing all these years," Pepper murmured, willing Tony to understand. "True, with her condition, she may forget the day after you tell her, but she may not. And she'll have to live with that for as long as she remembers."

He looked vaguely panicked, his eyes wide, and she almost felt bad for forcing him to see things from her perspective. Tamping down on her feelings of reluctance, she continued on doggedly.

"And if, by chance, the captain is alive and you do find him, how are you going to bring him back here? Are you just going to introduce him to Peggy again and tell him that she has this disease? That she may or may not remember him?"

"Stop." His voice was low and she opened her mouth to reiterate her point when he fixed her with a forewarning glare. "Pepper."

She fell silent and watched him dig the tips of his fingers into his temples.

"Whatever I do, I am doing for Aunt Peggy," he finally said, and his voice had a sense of finality to it. "If I go to Xavier, it's because that's what her plan was. If Xavier finds him, then I will bring him back, because that's what she would have done. If she wants to see him, then I'll bring him to her and if she doesn't remember his name, then I turn him over to SHIELD. Because the last thing that I am going to do, ever, is to hurt her any more than she already has been."

Pepper searched his profile for a moment, recognizing the distress in his clenching jaw. Scooting towards him, she wrapped her arms around his torso, her skin lightly brushing the arc reactor.

"Okay," she whispered, pressing her lips to his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He didn't respond, but one hand rose up to encircle her wrist, a silent acceptance.

Five days later, Tony stepped out of the Audi onto crisp white gravel and surveyed his surroundings through his sunglasses.

Xavier's school building was actually a stately old mansion, something reminiscent of the old Stark Hall, but whereas Stark Hall was seamlessly blended into the nature it was set into, the Tudor-styled "X-Mansion" was more incongruous with its surroundings.

Tony didn't like it.

He walked up to the front door and had raised one hand to knock when it opened. A tall, burly man with incredibly bad sideburns raised an eyebrow. "No solicitors."

Tony gave him a fleeting grin. "Cute. I'm here for Professor Xavier."

"Not here," the brawny man answered succinctly. He began to close the door in Tony's face when a slender woman entered the front hall.

"Logan," she chided, and Tony was surprised to see Logan stop immediately. "The professor is able to see Mister Stark."

Logan sighed quietly, shooting Tony's innocent smile a glare. The larger man turned around, one hand still blocking Tony's entrance. The woman arched an eyebrow at him and a silent conversation passed between the pair that Tony really didn't have the patience for. He cleared his throat and Logan turned back.

"If you'll excuse me," Tony said, nodding towards the door.

Begrudgingly, the beefy arm in his path was dropped and Tony stepped inside. The woman smiled warmly at him. "My name is Jean Grey. If you would follow me, please."

Tony grinned widely at Logan, wordlessly needling the other man, and hurried down the hall after Jean. "It's a nice place you got here," he offered.

"The mansion has been in the professor's family for generations," she told him conversationally, turning down another hall. "It is lovely architecture and we like it."

"Great," Tony muttered beneath his breath, following idly in her wake. She paused at a wooden door that blended into the wall and knocked. There was a faint "come in" and Jean turned the knob.

Professor Xavier was nothing like what Tony had expected. The man was bald, wearing an impeccably tailored suit, and was confined to a wheelchair. The professor rolled forward, using the joystick in his hand, and Tony vaguely heard the door close behind Jean as she left.

"Mister Stark," the professor greeted him with a smile. "How can I help you?"

Tony rallied himself, thinking of Aunt Peggy and trying to ignore Pepper's gentle reminders. "I want you to find someone."

"Is that so?" The professor continued to smile blandly at Tony. "I'm not sure how I can help."

Tony's patience immediately ran out. "Professor Xavier, I am a consultant for the Strategic Homeland, Intervention, and Enforcement Logistics Division. I know what you are."

"Then it seems we are on even footing, Iron Man," Xavier observed evenly. "What makes you think I will help you?"

Tony paused, completely unprepared for the question, and blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "Because it's not about me."

"You are the one asking, aren't you?" Xavier gestured towards a seating arrangement. "How is this not about you?"

Tony made a low noise in his throat. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"I have not decided," Xavier answered simply. "While I am inclined to help, I'd rather know more about what I am doing and why."

He indicated the seats again and Tony flopped down in a particularly comfortable, squashy armchair. He waited until the professor had joined him and parked his wheelchair before beginning. "What do you know about Captain America?"

The professor was silent throughout the exposition, hands steepled beneath his chin. When Tony finally fell quiet, parched, Xavier spoke.

"Alright," he murmured softly. "Get yourself a drink from the side bar and, when you're ready, you can follow me."

"Thanks," Tony rasped, rising from his seat. Forgoing alcohol for the first time in recent memory, he filled a glass with water and drained it. When he turned back around, Xavier had moved behind him.

"Shall we?" the professor asked cordially, and Tony got the sense that the older man was friendlier than he had been when Tony had entered. Realizing that he was waiting for an answer, Tony nodded. Xavier rolled out of the door and Tony followed down a myriad of passageways, raising an eyebrow with mild interest when Xavier led him downstairs to the basement.

It was clearly more modern than the rest of the house, the walls and doors a smooth metallic silver that felt jarringly out of place when Tony remembered the warm, dark wood of Xavier's study. He nearly ran over Xavier when the professor stopped abruptly, turning to face a large circular door set into the wall and adorned with a large X.

Xavier moved forward, completing the security protocols, and then what Tony now realized was a door slid open. Xavier motioned him inside, continuing down the long catwalk that jutted out into the open, spherical space.

There was a small console at the end of the walk that Xavier stopped in front of. Tony glanced over at the strange contraption that seemed to be a headpiece. His suspicions were confirmed when Xavier lifted it from the counter and placed it on his head.

"So, what now?" Tony asked into the silence they had maintained since beginning their journey.

"Now," Xavier murmured. "You wait."

Tony frowned at Xavier's skull, but the professor had closed his eyes and was completely ignoring Tony. As the minutes passed, Tony grew more and more impatient, fidgeting uncontrollably behind Xavier. Suddenly, there was a soft beep and Tony focused his attention on Xavier again.

The professor sighed, his entire body relaxing as he took the headpiece off and laid it on the console. He pressed a button and a small rectangle of paper emerged from beneath the monitor. Xavier turned, smiling at Tony. "You'll find Captain Rogers at this location. If memory serves, it's in an area that is notorious for vacillating between tundra and pure ice. It's no wonder you didn't find him."

Tony stared uncomprehendingly at the twelve numbers in his hand. Finally shaking himself from his reverie, he found Professor Xavier watching him intently.

"Thank you," Tony said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. "I mean it."

The professor smiled slowly. "Any time, Mister Stark."

In the end, Tony's men were a few hours behind some lucky Russian oil team. On Tony's orders, his team called Director Fury first, and then gave Tony a play-by-play of the extraction and subsequent journey to New York City.

He met them at the loading dock, smiling innocently at Fury when the taller man joined them. The captain was still encased in ice, although the team had been chiseling away as much as they could, and the unconscious soldier was transferred to the medical bay.

The small room was filled with heat lamps, their dim bulbs focused on the block of ice laying on the table. The melting rate was slow, much slower than Tony had expected, but he could finally see the bright colors of the captain's uniform through the layers of ice. The iconic shield sat to the side, still as encased as its wielder.

He turned at a movement in his periphery, glancing up at Fury's impassive face, and waited for the taller man to speak.

"So Howard's team finally found him," the director mused, and Tony gritted his teeth against the obvious mention of his father.

"Looks like," he replied, unwilling to reveal that the turning point had been his visit to Xavier on Peggy's behest. He wasn't sure that she'd want him to mention it. Aunt Peggy hadn't been far from his mind for hours, and he checked the time again, finally deeming it a reasonable enough hour to visit her.

He took one last look at the prone soldier and turned to leave.

"You don't want to be here for this?" Fury asked. For a split second, he thought about warning Fury, telling him that America's war hero was alive and mostly well, but the thought of pulling the wool over Fury's eye was too much of an incentive.

"No," he finally said. "I've got somewhere else to be."

He left wordlessly, aware of Fury's eye on his back as he did so. He'd dispatched Happy to chauffer Pepper for the day, both to help her readjust to New York City and to ensure that he was on his own for the day, and so he slid into the driver's seat of his car and pulled out into the congested traffic of Times Square.

The little girl at the receptionist's desk of Saint Agatha's eyed him fearfully as he walked inside, allowing him to pass without incident. It was still early in the day, the halls nearly empty in the morning hours. He traced the familiar path to Peggy's room and paused outside the door, taking a deep breath to steel himself.

He knocked firmly on the wooden frame, gently turning the knob when he heard her bid him entrance.

"Hello?"

She was sitting at her vanity, pinning the last of her curls from her face. She flicked a cool glance in his direction and Tony felt his heart sink. Picking up an earring, she slipped the post into her lobe. "Is there something I can help you with, Mister Stark?"

It might be okay, he thought frantically to himself as she finished her morning routine. I might not be too late.

"Uh, yes," Tony stammered, flustered at the unusually chilly reception he was receiving. "I was just here to tell you that we found Steve."

Peggy stood, tugging down her jacket, and faced him. "Who's Steve?"

It felt like he'd been suckerpunched, and the breath wheezed from his lungs. He stared sightlessly at her, cursing everything in existence for the unfairness of the world as his mouth worked wordlessly.

She cleared her throat and his gaze snapped back into focus on her face.

"Howard, who is Steve?" she asked, her voice faintly pitying.

Tony swallowed thickly, steadying his voice just long enough to reply, "No one, Agent Carter. Never mind."

Fin.