There's no time for us
There's no place for us
What is this thing that builds our dreams
Yet slips away from us?

Who wants to live forever?
Who wants to live forever?

There's no chance for us
It's all decided for us
This world has only one
Sweet moment set aside for us

Who Wants to Live Forever, by Queen, from the album A Kind of Magic, released in 1986

Warning: There is a brief moment of child abuse later on in this chapter, which I will mark out for those who wish to skip it. I mean no offence, and hope I didn't upset or trigger anyone.

"Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal."

He rubbed his head in response, sighing as he slowly and methodically went through what everyone had said, filing away their arguments and trying to find counter-arguments. It was not a fun conversation to have, and as much as Tony would like to leave it and have someone else do it, it wouldn't be a good example for the others. Plus, it would just further fuel the fire.

"It's because he's made up his mind."

"Boy,"

He replied, with a heavy dose of sarcasm. He pushed himself up, rubbing his head again as it increased in intensity. Seeing that didn't help, he rubbed the back of his head, before stretching his legs off a little bit.

"You know me so well. But actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache."

Moving through to the adjoining kitchen, he picked up his large mug, and washed it out. His eyes wandered the kitchen, as he narrowed his eyes to the garbage disposal. It was filled with coffee grounds. It wasn't that hard to recycle them for God's sake. Moving towards the projector basket, he placed his phone in it, tapping it to get it to project. They needed an incentive to agree to the Accords, and unfortunately, Tony had a very good example of consequences.

"That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort. Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?"

They wisely didn't say anything, and as the projection of Charlie Spencer came up, he turned to face it, pretending to notice it for the first time. The kid looked happy, chirpy, with a cheesy wide grin with lit-up eyes, oddly reminiscent of Peter when he got excited. It was a damn shame that the kid's spark had been snuffed out, just due to the Avengers' carelessness.

"Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia."

To their credit, many of them looked affected by his little tale. Peter definitely. His eyes widened a little, before snapping back to a normal face, still frowning. He looked shook up, and Tony couldn't blame him. The kid was around his own age after all and had only been trying to do a good thing.

Sparrow was a lot harder to read, as per usual, but there was a slight nibbling of her lip. It was extremely hard to notice, because only a sliver of white was visible, for less than a second. Rhodey was sighing, shaking his head as he rubbed his eyes with his right hand as his eyes lingered on the picture of Charlie, presumably thinking about the waste of life.

Because that was what it was. Scanning quickly over the others, the ones who were easy to read had blatant looks of remorse, which made Tony have some, albeit small, hope. They would see the necessity in this now, then, wouldn't they?

"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass."

Now that his coffee was ready, he popped an aspirin and took it with his steaming hot coffee, willing the tablet to kick in rapidly. If this was how Peter felt every time he had a sensory overload, then Tony needed to work on some more efficient pain removal techniques as soon as humanly possible. After placing his mug back down, still steaming, he turned to face the others, who were still sitting quietly and deep in thought.

"There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys."

"Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don't give up."

In the corner of the room, Sparrow was shaking her head slowly. It was the first actively participating role in the conversation she'd taken, ignoring her facial features and body language. Even then, she might as well have been silent. Even when she was speaking, she still wasn't very loud, her voice almost a whisper to Tony's ears.

"That's not what he's saying. He wants the Accords to be put in place so we can reduce casualties, so we don't have to 'give up'. He doesn't want another Charlie Spencer. Tony wants us to be held accountable for lives lost."

She looked towards him, turning her head ever so slightly in a silent question. Is that what you meant? He nodded ever so subtly, mouthing thanks as he turned back to Steve, who had started speaking again, with another spew of nonsensical words.

"We're not taking responsibility for our actions. The Accords is just a way to shift the blame onto someone else."

Rhodey narrowed his eyes in scrutiny over what Steve had said, and it was obvious to everyone that the man in question was not happy with what Steve had said. Mind you, it was rare that Rhodey ever was happy with what Steve had said. There was something between the two of them, that for the life of him, Tony couldn't figure out.

They were both military men- well, Steve was an outdated military man- so in theory, they should get along just fine. It had nothing to do with Rhodey being of a senior rank because Rhodey never pulled rank. Never. Even when he had rightfully deserved it. Shaking his head, Rhodey finally opened his mouth to say what he thought because he never minced his words. At times, Tony resented that particular ability, especially in his youth where he didn't care about anything but himself and his alcohol.

When he focused on his daddy issues and was more concerned about fucking everything that moved. But now, Tony appreciated his friend's bluntness. It had served to keep Tony on the straight and narrow.

"Steve that's- I'm sorry, but that's dangerously arrogant. You are aware of who we are dealing with here, right? It's the United fucking Nations. Not SHIELD. Not HYDRA. Not the World Security Council or Stark Industries. The United Nations."

Rhodey wasn't sorry at all. That was easy to see. If it was rare that Rhodey was happy with something out of Steve's mouth, then it was even rarer to see him lose his temper. Even Tony had very rarely been the recipient of his unbridled anger, but every time he had it had been unpleasant. That was why he was surprised that Rhodey showed it now. Steve looked unimpressed at Rhodey's use of language, but chose to ignore it in favour of continuing on his crusade.

"No, but they all have a common feature- ran by people with agendas. Agendas change."

Tony ignored the blatant jab at him. If he let every nasty little word that people said about him puncture his skin, then he might as well be a damn cactus by now. Peter though, didn't seem to be so inclined to ignore the jab. In fact, he looked just about ready to lunge across the table and do something the normally docile Peter would regret.

The thing was, Tony wasn't surprised, because he knew how much the boy desired to protect him, ever since the whole Uncle Ben incident. Especially since May's accident, because Peter took the whole world on his shoulders, even when it kept taking things from him. Tony raised a hand, silently telling him to stay put and not to go and punch a super-soldier, even if Tony would get a kick out of it.

Rhodey was similarly clenching his fists but was no doubt summoning all his military training to not lose it. That was another person that got defensive over when Tony was treated horribly, regardless of insult or punch.

"I don't see why that's a bad thing, Steve. It's what changed me, made me think about the bigger picture. What encouraged me to shut down my weapons manufacturing after I saw the harm they were causing in the wrong hands."

"Tony, you chose to change. If we sign the Accords, this piece of paper, we surrender our right to choose. What if we need to go somewhere, but they won't let us? We aren't perfect, but the safest hands are our own."

Tony took another swig of his coffee, feeling like he was losing braincells by the minute for every second he was left talking here. It seemed that either Steve was, like Rhodey pointed out, arrogant, or he had severely misunderstood the whole objective of the Accords. Because he made it sound like it would hold them on a leash like a dog, and dangle a sausage just out of reach. But that wasn't what they were about, not at all.

"If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later. That's the fact. That won't be pretty."

Wanda looked at him like he was shit off her shoe, with a red haze beginning to gather around her hands. Sparrow took one look at her and narrowed her eyes so that only a slit of her green eyes were available, and she crossed her arms.

Any fear that Tony had of seeing another alarming vision- one that could possibly have worse consequences then Ultron- was dashed once Sparrow looked at him with a small grin. Her weird ability- as anti-science as it is- was one that Tony was undoubtedly grateful for, considering that it had saved him from several unpleasant visions in the past.

It served to encourage Tony to develop something that would counteract the witches' powers, because he couldn't rely on Sparrow forever. She didn't even want to fight any more, yet she had been dragged into it by everyone.

"You're saying they'll come for me."

"We would protect you."

Vision sounded determined, as his synthetic eyes focused on Wanda. The thing was, Vision was entirely accurate. Even if several members of the team disliked Wanda- which let's face it, they did- they wouldn't just leave her to the wolves. They did have morals after all. There was a momentary lapse in the conversation/discussion/heated debate, before Natasha picked it up again, surprising Tony by a small degree.

"Maybe Tony is right."

Tony looked at her, with wide-eyed and honest surprise in his face. It looked like even his headache was surprised, because it disappeared for a moment, allowing him to relax ever so slightly. Well, either that or the Aspirin had kicked in, but Tony could believe what he wanted to believe.

"If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off -"

Sam rudely interrupted, cutting over what Natasha was going to say. The man was either brave or incredibly stupid, because Natasha could make you pay in more ways than one. Tony expected that a particularly special personal effect would be missing. Likely stored in the vents or at the back of a wooden wall- Natasha could be incredibly creative when she wanted to be.

"Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?"

Everything always came back to something. Wanda's parent's deaths went back to when he created weapons, which went back to his Father's legacy. Peter's career of Spider-Man went back to when his Uncle Ben died. Sparrow's history came back to Bucky's success as an experiment, which went back to a botched version of the Super-Soldier Serum which created Steve, which went back to Howard. It was only fitting that the source of the Avengers' arguments went back to the Government, an oh so popular topic for them to discuss.

"I'm just... I'm reading the terrain. We have made... some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back."

If there was one thing that Natasha was good at, it was supposedly analysing, although Tony had never truly forgiven her for the 'Iron Man yes, Tony Stark not recommended.' He still had his title of narcissist hung up over him, a shadow he could never escape.

Shaking his head, Tony's watch buzzed, with FRIDAY murmuring in his ear that he should check it. She wouldn't tell him what it was about, only that it was urgent, and that he needed to see it ASAP. He just needed to go grab it first, so he could see it. If he could just distract them, he could slide over to get his phone from where it was projecting.

"Focus up. I'm sorry, did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?"

He edged closer to the phone, brandishing his empty mug as a weapon, and washed it out, the hot and steamy temperature of the water barely affecting his hands. He was used to the hot temperature of things, and Peter liked to joke he had 'cast-iron hands'.

That was true in more ways then one.. his hands were made of red iron both literally and metaphorically. Once he'd washed it and placed it on the rack, he retrieved his phone with a smooth motion, the phone automatically unlocked once he was in the range of its camera. Oh, face ID was an amazing feature that saved so much time.

Still, he looked at the email alert that FRIDAY was directing him to, and his throat tightened up, making it painful to even swallow. It was a good thing he had already drank his coffee because his stomach churned like he was about to be sick, something he didn't particularly like. Rhodey caught the slip on his face and was looking at him in concern, as he wiped off the look quickly, keeping his face delicately neutral.

'Dear Dr Stark.

We regretfully write to inform you that your Aunt, Margaret Carter, has passed away in her sleep, following complications with her dementia. Please accept our expressed condolences from us, as we got to know Peggy, and she truly was a lovely woman. We were often regaled with stories of her youth, and she brought light and joy to all that knew her.

Preparations can be made for the funeral either by our hands, or by yours, as Mrs Carter explicitly wrote in her will that you were to be given the power of attorney over her once she passed, and has left a letter for you, which we will hold here until you are able to collect it.

Please contact us at the following email to arrange preparations for her funeral, and let us know a time. We understand this is a hard time for all involved, and we wish you and your family the best.

Best condolences,

The Owners and Staff of Chevy Chase House.'

His heart shattered. Despite many people thinking otherwise, Tony Stark did have a heart, and right now it was damaged, even more then it had been when he had the Arc in place. His Aunt had been a steadfast feature in his life, unafraid to tell him when he had fucked up, but also calming and a counter-balance to his nervous energy.

Sometimes he had so many ideas running through his head, he couldn't work fast enough to get them out, and just needed someone to talk to about them. Peggy was that person. He had many fond memories of her throughout his childhood, including when he had been getting bullied, and Howard had been extremely unhelpful with the whole topic.

TRIGGER SCENE FOLLOWING. SKIP UNTIL THE END OF ITALICS

"Anthony, we Starks are made of iron, and we do not bow down to bullies! I will not have my son bringing dishonour to the family name because he receives a few punches from some school children!"

Tony winced, holding a bag of peas to his eye. It was swollen shut almost, a deep purple in colour as it swallowed the entirety of the boy's whiskey eyes. He'd been hoping to retrieve the peas, swallow paracetamol, and hide in his bedroom in relative safety, but that had been gatecrashed when he had run into Howard.

Howard's wrath was something that Tony was well used to by now, especially when it had been amplified by his drinking. The smell of whiskey lingered in the air, and with every breath Howard took to further yell at Tony, the smell only intensified. Maria was nowhere near the father and son, out with Jarvis to gather supplies for an upcoming business meal to secure another partnership between Stark Industries and some other business that Tony couldn't care about.

"Why do they bully you, Anthony?"

Howard was well aware that Tony hated the sound of his full name, especially coming from anyone but Jarvis, but in a display of what Tony assumed to be superiority, he refused to address his son by the abbreviation. Tony saw stars as he was punched across the left cheek, and the sudden flaring of pain became immediately noticeable. That probably would have been a punch to the head had Howard been sober, and Tony was thanking his lucky stars that the man was unsteady on his feet.

"Answer me, boy!"

Tony's eyes hardened before he reigned in his temptation to be rebellious. As much as he didn't respect Howard, he knew that him, in his 4ft four, eleven-year-old glory, had no chance against the significantly older and stronger Howard. So, he bit his lip, and as Howard pulled his fist back for another punch, Tony found himself bumbling out an answer, trying to avoid any further injuries. With the ones he'd received at the hands of the bullies, he didn't need any more added as a result of his father.

"I don't know, Sir."

It was the truth, but Howard either didn't care or was determined to make Tony think that everything was his fault. It always had a way of falling back on him. This time, however, instead of a punch, the man picked up his empty whiskey glass and smashed it against him. He raised his arms up, discarding the bag of peas, and tried to deflect the glass from his face.

The shards of glass cut up all of his arms, drawing blood and leading to scars that he would hold for the rest of his life. Blood dripped on the floor as the two occupants of the room turned to face the silent creak of a wooden door. A woman- Peggy- walked in, tutting at Howard in a motherly way, but it was very easy to see that she was livid.

"Come here Tony."

He walked over obediently, little drops of blood tracing his path almost perfectly. She cradled his hands in her own calloused ones, before directing a careful look towards Howard. If Tony could be selfish, he wanted to leave. To be away from Howard whilst he was in his current mood. Without Maria and without Jarvis to temper him and keep him away from Tony, there were only more injuries to come. He didn't say anything, but she somehow knew what he was thinking because she was good like that.

"Go to your room and grab a night bag and your schoolwork Tony. I'm just going to have a word with your father."

He didn't disobey, afraid to be forced to stay, so he scampered off to his room, ignoring the pain from his body. It wasn't anything he wasn't used to anyway. Tony missed the punch Peggy did across Howard's cheek, with a sharp crack becoming audible. He also missed the chewing out that she gave him, ending with:

"You have a good son there Howard, and it's a shame you don't see it."

Tony was saved from having to make an excuse to leave and take Peter with him because Steve effectively ended the meeting after he looked at his own phone. It looked like someone had informed him about Peggy's death- and Tony had no intentions on arguing with Steve when it came to power of attorney.

"Since this meeting has now effectively been dismissed thanks to Steve, I'll take the kids here home."

Nobody questioned him, and he managed to keep his strong facade up until he was safe in the car, driving home with Peter in the front and Sparrow in the back. Then he broke down, as much as he loathed to do it in front of Sparrow, and found himself having to explain to Peter about Tony's Aunt Peggy, who Peter had met on several occasions and had grown close to after she had given him good advice regarding Spider-Man.

"Peter… Aunt... Peggy died."

It wasn't easy, but he managed it, and Peter, eyes watering, wrapped his arms around Tony, the close contact being nothing new between the two of them. Sparrow spoke up from the back, sounding quiet like she usually did but also trying to avoid prying.

"I can drive us home... I was forced to learn."

And so, they switched seats, Tony trusting Sparrow implicitly as she drove like an experienced driver. Throughout it all, Peter and Tony never stopped embracing one another, even when the tears had stopped falling and their eyes had gone red. It might have not been a good situation... but it would get better. And that was something that even a Futurist like Tony could believe.

Author's Note

Hello all! How are you all?

I'm slightly stressed as a result of my prelims, which is why this AN is super short.

QOTW: What would you guys like to see from this story?

Have a nice week!

~Cait