The Aftermath

Tony stood beside Rhodey, discussing any improvements that could be made to his new braces that could help him walk. When Rhodey fell, the conversation changed to something a little more serious.

"One-hundred thirty-eight," he said with a sigh. "One-hundred and thirty eight combat missions. Any one of them could've been my last, but I flew them. It's the same with these Accords—I signed because it was the right thing to do. And, yeah, this sucks. This is a bad beat, but it hasn't changed my mind."

Tony didn't say anything for a moment before he held out a hand to help up Rhodey.

"Have you heard anything about Aurora?" Rhodey asked after a moment of bracing against the two bars he was trying to walk between.

"No," Tony said quietly, "and, honestly, it's scaring the hell out of me. I can't help but wonder if—"

"Tony," Rhodey cut him off quickly. "You didn't kill her."

"You don't know that," Tony shook his head, swallowing hard. "She was hurt a lot in a short period of time. There's no guarantee that the buildup of them with that shot from my arc reactor didn't—"

"Tony," Rhodey said again. "You didn't kill her. Can't you feel it?" He tapped the back of his head. "She's alive. It's weak, even weaker than it usually feels when she's on the other side of the world from us, but it's there. She's not dead, man. Take a breath."

"I guess I've just been to worried about everything to really pay attention to it." Tony admitted before they both turned at a knock on the window.

An old mailman stood there. "Are you Tony… Stank?"

Rhodey smiled widely. "Yes, this is Tony Stank." He looked at Tony with a grin. "Never letting that go, by the way. Table for one, Tony Stank, by the bathrooms."

Tony laughed as he took the box from the mailman and took it to his desk. He found a letter inside and saw his name written in Steve's handwriting.

Tony,

I'm glad you're back at the compound. I don't like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself. We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe even more so than mine. I've been on my own since I was eighteen. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the Army. My faith is in people, I guess. Individuals. And I'm happy to say that, for the most part, they haven't let me down. Locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn't.

I hate to say it, but if I'm going to be completely honest, I didn't want to write this letter, but a voice in the back of my head—and yours—convinced me that it was worth it for you to know she was alright. I know Aurora is your family, too, Tony, and she wanted to write you herself, but her fine motor skills still need work—she experienced nerve damage from the blast. She's improving daily, though, and may be able to write you herself in the next few weeks. I know you'd much rather hear from her than me.

I know I hurt you, Tony. I guess I thought by not telling you about your parents I was sparing you. I can see now that I was really sparing myself. I'm sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand. I wish we agreed on the Accords, I really do, and I know Aurora hated fighting with you because she thinks as you as family too. I know you were only doing what you believe in, and that's all any of us can do, that's all any of us should. So no matter what, I promise if you need me—if you need us, I'll be there, with Aurora hot on my heels.

Steve

Tony sighed as he finished it, tilting the box down to have a flip-phone slide from the bottom just as Friday informed him of an incoming call.

"Sir, priority call from Secretary Ross."

"Put him through." Tony said as he turned in his chair to look at the phone.

"Stark, there's been a breach at the raft prison—"

"Oh, please hold."

"Stark!"

He looked over the letter again, relieved and panicked all at once. Aurora was alright and improving, though she still wasn't in good shape—Steve said she'd be ready to help him alongside the captain if Tony ever needed help.

He glanced at the phone once more as he set the letter down, sighing and hoping Steve was able to get everyone else out without Aurora.

"Where are you, anyway, Rogers?" He whispered to himself, looking over the box again.