So, you guys passed a milestone a few chapters back, and I didn't even realize it—100 reviews! I sincerely apologize for not noting it earlier—you guys have taken the time and effort to write those reviews, and the least I could have done was acknowledge it. So, I'm posting another early chapter as an apology and a thank you. I never would have gotten this far without you guys, and your support has been absolutely incredible since Day 1.

And you guys were great last chapter as well—there was a marked increase in reviews! 23 reviews! That's the highest you guys have gotten for a chapter! I want to thank all of you who devoted the time and effort to typing them up. THANK YOU! And it was great to see the new faces (or pen names) among the reviews! Let's see if can't do even better, shall we? So the goal to reach for this chapter: 23 more reviews, up to 147. If you haven't reviewed this story, now's the time :) And constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged—I should really make that my motto.

And finally, the last chapter to the Anniversaries series! Chapters will be returning to the usual names after this. Also, as you might have noticed, I'm terrible with naming chapters, so if you have suggestions for any of the ones I've posted so far, let me know! That being said, I may not use the name that is suggested—just a heads up, because I don't want to raise any expectations.

MUST READ: And, the title is changing again. Yes, I know—again. But it's very bad, and with the help of Lisaloves and Hooded007, I've come up with a new title! So, the title will be changing to: Divided I Stand. It should be changed in the next week or so—I just want to give you a heads up now. Also, the summary may change as a result.

A big THANK YOU goes out to LostHeroGuide, author of Heroes and Ghosts, for promoting this story on their most recently posted chapter! Their support has been steadfast since the beginning, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate you for doing that.

Updates are coming faster than I've been anticipating, and it's starting to cut into my studying—I literally can't stay away from writing. If I could, I would write 24/7. That's literally what my summer will be like. Unfortunately, these exams are actually going to decide the rest of my life. And I've come to the devastating realization that I literally cannot write fast enough and lay down the Civil War plotline before Civil War comes out. So after this chapter, it's back to strictly one update per week, until exams are finished. I really don't know if I'm going to follow the plot of the movie, or make my own plot at this point—but we'll see, I suppose.

And finally, there's a point in the Thor POV that gets highly emotional with a deep grieving tone. I tried to convey it. A song that will aid in the tone, if you'd like to listen to it, is "Into Eternity" by Brian Tyler. The two asterisks (**) will indicate that that is where you should start listening to the music, if you choose to. Unfortunately, it will not sound sad unless you have watched The Dark World. (sorry, I know the tone of this part of the A/N is a little distorted—I'm in the middle of writing Thor's POV, and the style is kind of leaking out into my writing)

And that, I believe, is all I have to say (sorry for the A/N being so long). Oh, and I keep forgetting the disclaimer, so the disclaimer in the first chapter now applies for the entire story. That's much easier.

Thank you to all those who followed, favourited, and reviewed!

Enjoy!

Anniversaries V: The Aftermath

"Begone, Asgardians, before you wear my patience too thin. Look for help elsewhere—I doubt I would be able to offer you any even if I was willing." An exhaustion lay beneath his voice—Frey was tired. Very tired.

"How would you know if we have not even told you what help we required?" Sif challenged.

"If you leave afterwards, then please, enlighten me." Frey said, indifferent.

"We seek the location of the last two Infinity Stones." Thor said, stepping forward.

A spark ignited in Frey's black eyes and Gullinbursti gave a nervous huff. "Oh? Why didn't you say this before?"

"I . . ." Sif was lost for words.

"Please, sit." Frey motioned to the ground. "Insults and ill sentiments in the past, it seems we have much to discuss."

. . .

"We must wait for night to arrive." Frey said. "That is when I might help with your search for the Stones."

They had been talking since mid-noon, trading war stories, the Asgardians getting to know the old warrior better. It was nearly sunset, and Thor's back ached from having sat for so long.

"Frey, I appreciate your aid, but I don't understand why you're willing to help us." Sif said cautiously, sparing a glance at Gullinbursti, who lay by his master's side. The boar glared at her with his golden eyes.

Frey regarded them. "Can you not feel it? The shift in Yggdrasil's roots? The silence of the four stags among its boughs? Something is coming. Something that none of us, not even the elders of your elders, have seen before. Something that hides in the shadows, away from my all-seeing eye, something not even my father Njord could ever have dared to imagine. And the Infinity Stones are at the very centre of it."

Thor felt chills down his spine. The warrior's words did not just sound foreboding—they sounded prophetic. He is known as the god of foresight in Midgard's myths for a reason, he thought to himself.

And so they sat, and waited for night.

Hours later, Frey finally stood up. The Asgardians followed his lead, stifling their groans as their stiff muscles and locked bones complained from the sudden movement.

"Why did you keep insisting that we wait for the night?" Fandral asked, as he looked up at the brilliant array of stars that shined in Vanaheim's night sky.

Thor had missed the stars. On Midgard, they were always hidden from him, covered by hellish gases and too-bright lights. But on Asgard and Vanaheim, the celestial bodies shone bright and proud.

"The night will reveal to you more than the day—if you know how to ask." Frey said mysteriously. It seemed that with the day having turned to night, the warrior had undergone a change as well. He was more reserved, calm, and cryptic.

"That's a load of stinking draugr's breath." Volstagg muttered. The warrior was still displeased with the fact that he had lost his axe in the fight with Gullinbursti.

Frey heard him and laughed. "For those who fear the dark, perhaps."

Volstagg growled but Fandral lay a hand on his shoulder.

"But you are Frey of the Light," Sif said, sounding confused. "Why ever would you want the night? All of the stories that I have heard tell of you gaining your strength from the sun."

"Ah, but the tales are old, Lady Sif. That was before I met the Dark Elves." Frey looked up at the stars. "Malekith taught me much, before he endeavored to shadow the world in eternal darkness. Among them, he showed me the secrets of the night."

"The Infinity Stones were cast in darkness, if you did not know." Frey continued, still looking up. "Cast in darkness, and in chaos. And the darkness may still whisper of where they lay now, if I listen closely."

Frey raised his hands and Gullinbursti let out a sonorous cry, his bristles seeming to glow darker, if that were even possible.**

And then the warrior began to sing.

It was a song of lament. A song of grief. The words were of a very old form of Norse, so old that not even Odin, had he been present, would have been able to discern any distinct meaning. But it did not matter, because Thor did not need to hear the meaning—he could feel it. The warrior sang in his low and haunting tones, and Thor was forced to close his eyes lest they show a weakness that he kept buried away.

But while his eyes closed, his ears remained open. The song coursed through his blood with heavy strides, settling into his bones with aching anguish, piercing his heart with a keening pain. Thor groaned, staggering and falling to his knees, unable to bear the grievous burden on his shoulders. He thought of Loki in his arms and gripped his head tightly, trying to press the images out.

He remembered the boat that held Frigga's still body. The dead, exhausted look in his father's eyes. There, there she lay on the ground . . . Blood, blood everywhere . . . the boat tipped over the edge of the waterfall—

Thor was jerked out of the memories and woke up to find himself sprawled across the ground, gasping for breath, covered in sweat. "Wh-wh . . ." He swallowed, trying to control his breathing and finally gathering enough strength to stagger to his feet.

It was still night, and they were still on the plateau, high up in the mountains. Frey stood a few strides away, regarding him with solemn black eyes.

"The songs of the Dark Elves were never ones of joy," Frey said quietly. "But they were powerful nonetheless."

Scattered across the plateau, Thor's friends were beginning to stir. Thor helped Sif up as she looked around confused.

"Are you alright?" He asked her.

Her wild eyes seemed to anchor themselves to his, and she nodded mutely. There was a pain in her eyes that Thor had never seen before, but he did not question it. He was still reeling from the raw anguish of his own memories.

"Warning would have been greatly appreciated." Volstagg growled. He seemed especially angry, and shrugged off Fandral's hand this time when the warrior attempted to calm him.

Frey did not respond. Instead, a frown had taken over his face.

"What did you learn of the Stones?" Sif asked, her voice slightly hoarse. Everybody shifted uncomfortably, but did not point it out.

"Grave news. Very grave news."

"What?" Volstagg asked impatiently.

"It appears that one of the stones is lost, far beyond the Nine Realms."

"And the other?" Thor asked.

"Midgard." Frey looked back up at the night sky.

Everybody turned to Thor, who looked at him in surprise. "Midgard?"

"Yes. But that is not the grave news."

"Then what is?" Volstagg gripped the hilt of one of his daggers.

Frey turned his black eyes on them. "Someone is searching for them."

Thor traded a look with Sif. So his and Odin's suspicions had been correct.

"Who, I do not know. But they do not rest in the Nine Realms, nor beyond. They are . . . elsewhere. They use the darkness as a means of concealment, and despite all that I learned from the Dark Elves, I could not bring them out of the shadows. I do know this, however."

"They are coming."

"You told him about Bucky?"

Rhodes met Steve's furious gaze with his own unwavering look, to his credit. "Yes Steve, I did. You know it would have happened sooner or—"

"No," Steve spoke sharply. "I trusted you to keep that one detail a secret. I trusted you—"

"And the government trusts me to remain an officer of the law," Rhodes snapped, losing a hold on his calm demeanor. "That man is dangerous, Steve! He—"

"He's changed." Steve snapped back.

Rhodes gave a humourless laugh. "Sure, he's changed. That's why he nearly choked you to death 2 months ago, right? And almost killed those civilians last week. Because he's changed."

Steve took a threatening step forward and jabbed a finger into Rhodes' shirt. "If they kill him—"

"Uh, anybody mind telling me what exactly you two are going on about?" Tony asked with a politely curious expression, purposefully breaking the tense mood.

"I'm just going to . . ." Annabeth looked rather lost, watching an argument that involved issues she clearly wasn't involved in.

"Let's find you two a place to stay." Vision said, gently picking up Percy from the couch on which he slept. The three of them left the room.

. . .

Sam placed a firm hand on Steve's shoulder. "Lay off him, Steve. Rhodey didn't do anything wrong."

Steve's mouth was a thin, severe line, as if he was trying to stop himself from saying something, and finally he nodded, lowering his hand and stepping back.

Clint gave an inward sigh of relief. Looking around, he could see everyone else going through something similar. It was a little disconcerting, to see Steve come so close to losing control like that.

Steve rolled his shoulders, as if to let out some tension. "I'm sorry—that was wrong of me." He pinned his gaze on Rhodes again. "But that doesn't make what you did any better. Bucky already has to put up with HYDRA, and you just made it a whole lot worse for him by telling the government about our missions."

Tony put up a hand to stop Steve, his eyes narrowing. "Tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying."

Steve sighed, rubbing his face for a moment as if he were suddenly tired of the argument. "Tony—"

"No, hold it right there." Tony stood up. "Are you telling me that you've been looking for James Barnes for the past year, and didn't tell me?" He looked around the room, but everyone avoided his gaze. "Are you guys serious?

"Tony, there's a reason we didn't tell you." Clint said, knowing that this was going to be a long discussion. "You've been rooting for government oversight since day 1."

"Oh, you're going to bring that up agai—"

"If the government took over, Bucky's fate would be out of our hands." Steve cut across him. "You know as well as I that the government is still looking for someone to pin the blame after the battle at the Triskelion, and Bucky's the perfect target. They'd shoot and ask questions later."

"And the world would be better off." Tony said, coldly. "And that still doesn't excuse the fact that you kept this hidden from me—we're a team. We don't keep secrets from each other."

Steve's jaw tightened. "Considering what you've been doing the past year, you want to talk about being a team?

Tony poured himself a glass of alcohol, taking a sip while looking at Steve with a dispassionate gaze. "Let's."

Steve gave him a cold glare. "How about you publicly announcing your support for the UN Summit last month—the very Summit that's aiming to establish a registry—and not even giving us a warning beforehand, let alone an explanation?"

Tony shrugged. "It's about time we had some system going."

"When the hell did you start caring about rules and a system? The last time I checked, you disregarded half of them and broke the rest!"

Tony put down his drink. "I changed."

"And decided that we would be better off under the command of someone else?" Steve asked, disbelieving.

. . .

Tony stood up, unable to sit still any longer, and walked to the window that overlooked the landing pad. How could he explain this? How could he make Steve understand? "Every day." Tony swallowed. "Every day. I get another picture, or another e-mail, or another call from a newly installed landline—they don't stop. We left them in a giant mess, Steve—we let them clean up our mess."

"Tony, what are you talking about?"

Tony whipped around, breathing hard. "Ultron, damnit—Sokovia. Do you know how much suffering they've gone through the past year? Do you even know how many people died that day?"

Steve's face hardened. "You think I don't? I think about it everyday—every person we failed."

23. That's how many people died that day. Among them, families decimated, life-long friends and neighbours in a tight-knit community—gone. Pietro, killed. And the thousands left behind to deal with their grief and heartache of lost homes and the dead.

Tony could joke about it all he wanted. Tease Sokovia's politicians about the astounding number of their country's people who suffered from PTSD, heart attacks, strokes and a dozen other illnesses. But inside? His heart burned with guilt. A guilt he hadn't felt since the day he'd been captured by terrorists and shown the true destruction that his weapons wreaked upon innocents, stirring up an anger so great that people were ready to strike back at the US government and an infamous billionaire who seemed untouchable. Enough was enough. He could look at the pictures again, of devastation and dead bodies, that were sent to him each day by angry victims. He could answer each call he received, and read each e-mail that was written in grief. Or he could do something about it.

"The Summit is our ticket to a fresh start," Tony said, looking at all of them. "It's time we showed our support."

"For rules that will put us under the control of people who lead the UN—like the President?" Steve shook his head. "That's not a fresh start—that's an excuse. An excuse to deal with your guilt, and an excuse for politicians to gain more power."

"These aren't just politicians, Steve." Rhodes finally spoke up. "This is the UN. Not the US government, or the World Security Council, but the United Nations. If they decide to go forward with creating a registry, we can't do anything to stop them. And I don't think we should," he added. "Our hunt for Bucky has been going on too long. You're compromised, Steve. Have been since you started looking for him. How can we serve the interests of the people if our captain is looking for only one person?"

"Woah, hey now Rhodey," Sam started, standing up. "You want to talk about compromised? You've been spilling information to the general for what sounds like months—maybe even the past year."

"Which Steve was aware of." Rhodes said.

"And which I clearly should have stopped you from doing." Steve said, coldly.

"You put your trust in me, and I appreciate that. But you can't have forgotten that I have a sworn duty to the President and his government, as well."

"So you're saying it was inevitable."

Rhodes looked pained. "I'm saying that I was stuck, between two sides, and I was going to have to choose at one point or another."

"Guys." Wanda spoke up finally, getting up with a wince. Everybody was on their feet now, eyes hard and accusing. "Let's just breathe for a moment."

Tony scoffed. "And while we're going on about trust, how about someone explains to me why we signed her up for the Avengers?"

"Tony," Natasha said warningly just as Clint snapped, "Hey—watch it."

"That's enough," Steve said, placing a comforting hand on Wanda's shoulder.

Rhodes frowned, looking at his best friend. "We're over that, Tony,"

Tony nodded, disappointed. "Clearly." And it was even more clear that the man had not forgiven Wanda's past deeds.

"Boss, General Ross would like to inform you that he will be here within the hour."

Tony met Steve's hard gaze, and said, "Great—tell him we look forward to talking."

Steve walked down the corridor, weary and feeling deep foreboding about the upcoming meeting with the general. It was not going to go well.

"Steve."

Steve looked up to see Vision approaching him from the other end of the corridor. "Vision." He suddenly remembered their other guests. "Where are Percy and Annabeth?"

"In one of the guest rooms." Vision said, nodding down the hall. "General Ross is coming here?"

Steve nodded. "You heard?" Sometimes, he suspected that Vision's enhanced hearing far out-rivalled his own.

"Yes. It was rather difficult not to." Vision admitted.

Steve sighed. "Yeah, well—be prepared." He thanked Vision and walked down the hall, stopping in front of the only guest room that had its door closed. He knocked.

"Come in." Annabeth's quiet voice floated out.

Steve quietly opened the door to look upon Percy sleeping on a bed and Annabeth sitting next to him, one of her hands in his black hair while she looked at Steve with a rather guarded expression.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see how you guys were doing." Steve said, keeping his voice low.

"Good. But we might have to stay the night." Annabeth said, sounding a little reluctant.

"No problem—Tony won't mind." Steve tried not to twist his name as he said it, hiding his annoyance.

Annabeth noticed, however. "It sounded like a heated argument." She pointed to one of the other chairs in the room. "If you want, you can sit—I don't mind." She clearly did mind, but was being polite.

Steve didn't know why she and Percy has been uneasy for the majority of the party, and judging by Annabeth's expression, still were. He had talked with Clint, who had admitted that he was a little suspicious, but besides the information that could be revealed from a background check, there wasn't much more that could be known of the two. Steve supposed that if Annabeth and Percy had something to hide, they would reveal it in their own time, or not at all.

And so, despite Annabeth's thinly veiled frown, Steve walked in, sitting down on the chair. "Yeah—I'd be surprised if the whole Tower didn't hear it." He said, sighing.

"Sorry," Annabeth said quickly. "I didn't mean to be nosy—"

"No, no, I know."

"So . . . they're really considering a registry for superheroes?" Annabeth continued, cautiously.

"Sounds like you've been following the issue." Steve looked at her. Then again, he thought, everybody's been following it ever since the Battle of New York, when the government first proposed the idea.

Annabeth ducked her head. Steve wondered if she did it because she was embarrassed, or for another reason. "Yes, well—the consequences could be huge."

Steve sighed again. "Too true."

"Keep sighing like that and—." Annabeth said.

"I'll get grey hairs?"

Annabeth paused, looking at Percy for a moment. "Well, if the serum allows for it . . ."

Steve laughed, and felt the tension between them finally break.

"I'm a good listener." Annabeth offered.

It turns out she wasn't. She butt in every few seconds, asking questions and giving her own opinion, but Steve found that he didn't mind. It was nice, speaking normally to someone outside of the Avengers.

"So, next month," Steve continued, "on the 20th, the UN will decide whether or not to establish an external framework that will—"

"Essentially decide when and where you are needed." Annabeth finished.

"Exactly. Which crises require our aid, which ones don't, when and where to be deployed. And it won't just apply to us—every single person on this planet who possesses any kind of enhanced or superpowered abilities will be affected."

. . .

Annabeth nodded, the information that Steve was telling her already old news. The first time the issue had surfaced on the media, which was several years ago, shortly after the Battle of New York, she hadn't known what to make of it. A government framework for superheroes? It sounded good. Looking upon all of the destruction that the Avengers and aliens had wreaked on the city, it sounded more than good. Surely, with government oversight and intervention, destruction would be reduced, right?

But having thought over the idea that the media was preaching, Annabeth wasn't so sure now. Assuming that government intervention would help in reducing destruction meant assuming that the government was better than the superheroes. It meant assuming that laws set out by the government would ensure greater transparency, reliability, and accountability. That, by forcing all enhanced and superpowered people to register themselves into a system that recorded every single fact about their life and their abilities, and forcing those same people to follow the command of the government or the UN or whoever else came along, people would no longer need to fear for their homes and family and friends because a fight had gotten out of hand.

Annabeth wasn't ready to make those assumptions.

Especially considering what was on the line. Her life. The lives of all demigods. Sure, the world didn't even know they existed—the UN wasn't about to come knocking on their doorstep, demanding that they register themselves and turn over their Oracle so that their quests would be given by some unknown officer from then on. But by enforcing a registry and a framework that would essentially make people—humans or not—soldiers of the UN, people would be more vigilant for 'superheroes'. Without their usual disregard for the supernatural, the Mist would weaken and demigods would be in even more danger than before. No longer would a mortal dismiss an unusual sighting or encounter. They would report it to the government, who would in turn investigate. And the consequences might be devastating.

Annabeth looked at Steve, beginning to understand where he was coming from. "I've heard about others, on the news and web." She said, continuing the conversation. "The Himalayas, Spider-Man . . ." She frowned.

"Not a fan?" Steve asked, chuckling.

Annabeth looked at him. In the past half-hour or so that they'd been talking, she had learned even more about Steve since the party. He was wholly and entirely against the idea of a registry, and had a great distrust for the government. He had been rather honest with her, so she wondered if she should be honest with him now.

"I wasn't a fan of any of you," Annabeth admitted.

She had a problem with superheroes, and the fact that rather than there being heroes, there were only superheroes. It seemed to her that mortals had decided that heroes weren't enough; that they needed to start making them, manufacturing them, adding 'super' to the label. Forget Chiron and Grover, Jason and Percy, Renya and Annabeth—they didn't exist. There was only Spider-Man and Iron Man, Captain America and the Scarlet Witch, and probably a dozen others. Annabeth wasn't jealous for the fame that they received—it was that she disapproved of the fact that the idea of being a hero had become so tainted. That discretion was thrown out the window while the oddest, and sometimes the stupidest, names were donned.

And Annabeth realized that this was her opportunity to let Steve and the rest of the Avengers know just how greatly they'd impacted her life—all of the lives of the demigods, really, by destroying the city that was a symbol of norm for them. Camp was great, but they all had to get out and about sometimes, and New York was perfect for that. Then the aliens had come, and Chiron had banned all of them from joining in the fight—that had devastated Percy, who loved New York more than Annabeth did. This was her chance to tell Steve exactly that—and she couldn't do it. She could hear the guilt and shame in the man's voice—she didn't need to add salt to the wounds.

"But I've come to realize that you guys aren't that bad." Annabeth said, smoothing out Percy's hair. Or at least, attempting to. She had half a mind to get her hands on a straightener, but she didn't think Percy would be too thrilled when he woke up.

Steve laughed. "We 'aren't that bad'? Most kids your age would be absolutely thrilled to meet Captain America," he joked, opening his arms wide in a teasing manner. "Sorry, most adults your age." He chuckled, when Annabeth frowned.

Joking around didn't suit Steve—he was clearly anxious about the quickly approaching meeting. Annabeth decided not to point out his odd behaviour. "Yes, well, Tony Stark offering me a job is probably affecting my judgement."

Steve nodded. "Right—congratulations again. Tony hires a lot of people on the spot, but I don't remember him praising any potential candidates that much."

Annabeth smiled. "It comes at a good time, too. Stark Industries is the perfect stepping stone for even better jobs in the future."

"Did you just call one of the most influential companies of the century a 'stepping stone'?" Someone asked, sounding scandalized.

Annabeth's gaze turned to find Tony Stark in the doorway. She winced.

Following the argument with Steve, and the hurt he'd felt to see the team gang up on him in Wanda's defense, Tony had immediately left the room and gone to his office.

He needed to do something—something normal.

"Friday, let's see if the stunt that kid pulled made the news."

"Yes, Boss." The latest articles and trending topics on all media platforms in New York started appearing on the screen, one on top of the other.

"Oh, and get that bird on the landing platform scanned. I want to know how it died, and why the hell it smelled like rotten eggs.

"Would you like the bird disposed of afterwards, Boss?"

"Yes—it stinks."

Tony tapped a wrench on his table impatiently, turning in his chair. What could think about that wouldn't get him all fired up again?

Percy and Annabeth.

Percy had seemed pretty normal at first, as had his girlfriend, save for the fact that one of them knew hand-to-hand combat and the other could probably win in a war of words. But even those were pretty normal.

Then Percy had taken a dive off the Tower. Not intentionally, of course, but nonetheless—a dive. The look he'd seen on the kid's face before he'd fallen was almost a déjà vu for Tony—he'd seen it plenty of times before on his own face, when he'd gotten Jarvis to record the many panic attacks he'd had following the Battle of New York. It was a look of insurmountable fear. A fear that choked up the lungs, stopped the heart, and shut down the brain.

And seeing that fear develop into a fighter's mentality after he'd caught him and brought him back inside the Tower—it had thrown Tony off. What kind of experiences turned a panic attack into a full-on flashback? And what kind of asthma was triggered by flashbacks? It was like a person having pollen allergies in the winter—the illness was there, but it was all backwards.

Tony knew, from the background check that he'd conducted, that Percy had been expelled from many schools when he was younger, but he hadn't given it much thought. He himself didn't trust the school system, so he'd chalked Percy up to being one of those kids that the rigid system simply didn't agree with. But seeing Percy's breakdown, and hearing Annabeth give an explanation of 'traumatic experiences', he wondered if all of those expulsions were more significant then he'd initially assumed.

"It appears that the media is rather occupied by another event that has occurred in the city, Boss." Friday's voice sounded odd—almost . . . ominous.

Tony frowned. "What?"

Headlines, tweets, and comments started filling his screens.

"Holy s*** I just got stoned by a bird!"

"Is this the apocalypse!?" (In response: "I thought that was on Dec 2012 . . . #ApocalypseIsOVER" )

GLOBAL PHENOMENON: Millions of birds across the world were seen to have fallen from the sky . . . broken windows, monuments . . . millions in damages . . .

"WTF why is this bird naked?" (In response: "This one smells like rotten eggs! EWWW")

Normal occurrences in the past . . .

"This is definitely not f****** normal!"

Tony didn't bother to read any further—he'd gotten the gist of it.

"Uhhh, so . . ." He massaged his temples. "Is this the apocalypse? Because I haven't made a bucket list yet."

"I have taken the liberty of making one for you."

"Wait, so this is the apocalypse?"

"It does not appear so. Similar events have occurred in the past, but with key differences. Past occurrences have involved large disturbances, such as fireworks, which damage a bird's ability to use the earth's magnetic field to stabilize their flight path. This time however, it seems that all of the birds were suffering from illness. The pigeon on the landing pad had a very severe infection, explaining the rotten egg smell. Many birds that appear naked had very severe cases of feather disease, along with other illnesses. Many rare conditions have also surfaced. What is most significant is that all cases appear to be fatal as a direct result of disease, and not trauma sustained from falling, in the case of birds that were in mid-flight.

"So, what—this is an epidemic of bird diseases? How is this even possible? Did they just get the disease while flying or standing—or perching, or whatever birds do? Because the last I checked, that was impossible."

"Experts are unsure. The World Health Organization is considering an emergency meeting to discuss potential impacts upon humans."

"You mean the birds can spread these diseases?" Tony asked, alarmed.

"It appears unlikely. Many of these diseases are incompatible with the human body. However, the risk of contracting illnesses such as the avian influenza may have risen because of this occurrence."

"And it's still going on?"

"No. It appears that the event began and finished in the space of 15 seconds. It is unknown as to whether it will happen again."

Tony leaned back in his chair, trying to cope with all of the information he had just learned. "I guess we should hold off on throwing out the bird, for now. Maybe I'll get someone to dissect it later, see if we can find out some more info." Tony paused. "And there's no mention of someone falling from the Tower?"

"There are a few comments. One person even managed to take a picture. However, Percy's head was turned away, and the rest of his body is distorted because of the speed at which he was falling."

"I suppose that's good," Tony murmured absently.

"It appears the Tower's surveillance cameras caught something, however."

"Well, bring it up." Tony said, twirling his wrench.

A clear, pristine video appeared on the screen. Tony watched as Percy plummeted down just as something white entered the camera's vision, catching Percy's shirt. Friday froze the image, following the white line that extended from Percy's shirt, and zoomed in on a building ledge in the background.

Tony squinted just as the picture was enlarged, and then his eyes widened in surprise. "Well, well, look who we have here."

It was a person crouched on the ledge, clad in a red and blue costume. "New York's friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man."

"It appears that he was on the verge of saving Percy when Wanda stopped his fall."

"Looks like Percy had nothing to worry about—everybody was lining up to catch him." Tony joked.

"It would be wise to inform the rest of the team of this development. If not of Spider-Man, then at least the phenomenon with the birds." Friday said, knowing her boss too well.

Tony sighed. He didn't want to talk to anybody, besides Friday, at the moment. "Wise? Doesn't seem like it to me."

"Considering that I am capable of processes that would require more than 100 human brains to complete . . ."

"Okay, okay." Tony muttered before getting up. "Remind me again how you got to be so smart."

"Why, because of you, Boss." Friday responded serenely.

"Exactly. So why do I feel like you belittle me half the time?" Tony asked, frowning, as he left the room.

Friday didn't answer.

Annabeth winced as Tony stood in the doorway, looking highly offended. "Yes—sorry. I didn't mean it in that way. Stark Industries is a great opportunity to pick up skills and experience. And I know many people look up to your company as the 'final destination'. However, for me, it's more like the push I need to get my career off the ground. Stark Industries holds a lot of prestige worldwide," Annabeth continued, hoping she wasn't making her situation worse, and wondering if she was about to break a record for shortest time being an employee of Stark Industries. "And that will be helpful for me later on, when I start looking for government contracts."

"So you're that kind of architect." Tony frowned. "The one who wants to build the next great monument."

Annabeth nodded. "Yes, exactly."

Tony was silent for a moment, still frowning. Then he relented, "I guess that's a good explanation. I still don't forgive you for calling Stark Industries a stepping stone, but I understand."

Annabeth gave an inward sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"No problem." Tony turned to Steve, his gaze hardening slightly. "There's something you need to see."

"The general?"

"No, something else."

Steve nodded curtly. He got up, and then looked to Annabeth. "I'm sorry to leave you. Will you be okay here by yourself . . . ?"

Annabeth gave a reassuring smile, turning back to Percy. "Yes, I'll be fine."

"So, you're saying this has happened before?" Clint asked, looking at the screens filled with the news on the phenomenon.

"Yes, but not like this." Tony said again with a sigh.

Natasha was frowning at the screens. "I haven't seen anything like this before."

"Huh." Sam leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing the screens. "Well, there's not much we can do about it unless someone actually managed to orchestrate the entire thing. And even then, it's more a problem for, what, pest control?"

"I just thought you might like to know." Tony said, reaching for another glass of alcohol. He paused—on second thought, coffee might be better right now.

They'd been discussing the event with the birds for almost an hour now, to no avail. The general was late, for reasons that none of them knew.

"Maybe he got held up by the birds." Rhodes had said. "I think he's flying in from Washington."

"Boss, General Ross has arrived."

The room immediately got silent, and then everyone was getting to their feet, tension building in the air.

"Great, send him up." Tony said, sipping his coffee, seemingly unconcerned. He walked over to the elevator, ready to welcome their guest.

Less than a minute later, the elevator opened and the general walked out, flanked by two officers.

General Ross may have been the US Secretary of Defense now, but he would always be a military man, through and through. Dressed in formal military attire, his many service ribbons were displayed prominently on his left breast. He was in his 50s, at least, but had clearly maintained his physique long after being honourably discharged from the military so many years ago. And walking in with a straight back and a hard gaze, he gave an imposing appearance that, paired with his stern principles, had so fittingly earned him his nickname "Thunderbolt".

"General, nice to see you again." Tony offered his free hand (his other hand bore his coffee).

"Tony Stark." The general's voice was gruff, more so than it had been on the phone. He took his hand and shook it firmly. "It's been a long few years."

Tony laughed. "Yes, it has. Harder on you than for me, it seems."

"And always the joker," General Ross scowled.

"Why so late?" Tony asked.

"Damned birds." The general said. "Pilot panicked and someone else had to take the wheel. If we'd been back in Vietnam, I would have found him guilty of cowardice. And of course, the airstrip was in chaos—amateurs." The general turned his gaze on the rest of the team, before it landed squarely on Steve.

"Captain." The general approached him, stopping a few feet away. He didn't offer his hand.

"General Ross." Steve said curtly. He didn't offer his hand either.

The two were almost equal in height, but could not have been more different in principles.

"I didn't come here to have a chat," General Ross said. "I have business elsewhere in New York. I did come with a warning however."

"And that is?"

"No more searches for your friend, Captain. James Barnes has no friends and no allies. He is an enemy of the state, and is wanted by Homeland, the FBI, and the CIA, not to mention all of the other countries who want to get their hands on him for his crimes. I'm in charge of the hunt now, and next month at the Summit, if he's not yet caught, it'll become an international effort."

"You can't tell the Avengers what they can and can't do." Steve said quietly, his tone dangerous.

The general's eyes narrowed. "Watch me. The government has been calling for control for years now, and that's what the entire world will get at the Summit next month. It's been a long time coming, Captain. It's time for change. Your search for a wanted man only helped prove that. And your days of taking down HYDRA without constraint are numbered—soon, someone else will be making those decisions for you."

General Ross then turned towards Rhodes, pinning him under his imposing gaze. "And I'll be having a word with you later."

Rhodes swallowed slightly. "Yes, sir."

Without another word, the general turned on his heel and strode back towards the elevator.

"And don't think I won't know if you keep looking for your friend, Captain. I always know." General Ross called over his shoulder. "I'll be hunting James Barnes now."

"Like you hunted Bruce Banner?" Steve asked coldly.

The general entered the elevator with his officers and turned back to look at him, a cold smile on his face. "Exactly."

The elevator doors closed shut.

So, whose side are you on? Team Cap or Team Iron Man? (search it up online—the pics look great ;) )

And remember: the goal is to get to 147 reviews. But topping that would be awesome! :)

- 100th Century

Responses to Reviews:

TheAdaptableWriter: Hi! Thank you so much! And I've been considering your OC, but if I do actually use him, I want to develop his character well before introducing him, so he may be introduced in late May, after my exams, unfortunately.

Guest (April 22): Thank you! Your review was seriously awesome to read! And it's great to know that people still read the A/N long after a chapter has been posted :) :)

Lizaloves: You would imagine correct! The Avengers can be a nosy bunch ;) And thank you! I've been working on them ;)

Aviendhaphiragon: I haven't actually—I've never heard of it before. Perhaps I'll watch it this summer :) And thank you—keep up the reviews, they're awesome!

MoonLightNinja: I know! And all of them of hard choices to make soon, regarding their loyalties. And it looks like Percy is staying in the Tower for the night!

Teleina: Thank you for the great review—it was very enlightening to read! Keep them up :)

Rake1810: Fury should be coming soon, actually. Hopefully in the next chapter or so :)

Cooljoanna14: Nope, but Bucky should be coming soon, hopefully. True—Percy's loyal to the end :) I think I'll be keeping Bucky as human, unfortunately, just to fit with the Marvel plot

Mortal Gods: Thank you for all the reviews—they were great to read! Keep it up!

Russel Lawrence: Hopefully you got my PM? Let me know your thoughts! :)

Flying Through Clouds: Thank you! And you'll find out a little about the birds in this chapter :)