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Things Fall Apart

Tony had never thought that he would see the day when Steve's innate leadership skills would fail him. Steve was 'the man with a plan'. Wasn't that his old war time moniker? The guy who instantly knew what to do, and executed commands in that 'no nonsense' tone. But the seconds ticked on and Steve made no move to help Tony to his feet. Today seemed to be that day. Steve stared at him as if he was seeing a ghost. Which, to be fair, Tony's sickly pale and thin form probably resembled one. But Tony had no time to wait for his old… colleague to compose himself. He had to get out of here and follow Peter. And he had to find out if Pepper was still…

Tony huffed sharply through his nose and tried to dispel the thought. It was simultaneously the thing that he had thought of the most during his time in space, and the thing he had tried to not think about at all. He held out his arm in a silent request, which snapped Steve out of whatever internal crisis he was going through. He grasped Tony's wrist firmly and pulled him up to his feet. Tony's vision started to tunnel and his head swam in a punch-drunk sort of way. Steve's arm wrapped around him and kept his steady as Tony blinked away the feeling and slowly adjusted to the change in elevation. Gradually, his vision became steady, and Steve's worried expression came in to focus again. The sight of it made Tony's chest tighten.

"I couldn't stop him." Tony admitted weakly. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to say that. His failure was obvious and while Tony had been isolated in space, Steve had been dealing with the fall out for three weeks. A crack appeared in Steve's composure and in his eyes, Tony saw raw grief and despair. It was accentuated by the shadows under his eyes and the blood shot veins in the whites of his eyes. The force of that concealed grief slammed in to Tony like an on coming semi-truck. He cringed reflexively and dropped his eyes to the metal floor of the ship.

"Neither could I."

The weight of those confessions hung heavily in the air. Neither one of them had been enough. Not individually anyway. Maybe if they had been together things would have turned out differently. A spark of anger ignited in Tony's chest, like the flickering flame of a match about to be thrown on gasoline.

No. Not now. Right now, he needed to get to Peter and, if possible, find Pepper.

"I need to get to the Med Bay," Tony said stiffly. He took a determined step towards the door and after a split second of hesitation, Steve matched his pace.

"Yes, of course." Steve muttered. "You need treatment."

They exited the ship and the night air hit Tony's face. It was crisp and frigid despite the fact that it was… June? It should be the first week of June, if Tony was keeping track of time right.

"No," Tony bit out. Had Steve seriously not seen a blue alien carrying a half-dead boy in her arms? Did he not understand that Peter's health took precedence? "Not me. I need-" His words died with a choking sound in his throat as his eyes took in the sight before him.

Pepper was alive.

The sight of her running towards him across the Compound's lawn, alive and whole, filled Tony with such a profound sense of relief that he would have collapsed if Steve hadn't been supporting him.

"Oh my God!" She cried and pulled him into her embrace. Tony breathed a shuddering sigh as he relished the warmth of her body against his. Tension that had been ever present, just under the surface, fell away. It was as if Tony had been holding his breath unknowingly for twenty-two days, and now he could finally breathe. His arms wrapped around her tightly, clutching her trembling form like a life line. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering on her skin a moment longer than they would have three weeks ago. His nose pressed to her hair and Pepper's familiar scent filled Tony's breath.

"It's okay," He murmured against her skin, and finally broke away. It was a lie meant to comfort her. Nothing was okay right now. In fact, it was likely that things would never be okay again. But Tony felt the need to protect Pepper with the lie anyway. Even now, after the storm had hit and they were all left to drown in the flood. Comforting lies were all Tony had to offer her now.

Slowly, Pepper pulled away from him enough to wrap an arm around his back in order to give Tony more support. As they had started to walk up to the compound, Tony's eyes searched desperately for other familiar faces standing on the lawn.

Rhodey.

Natasha.

Where was Bruce?

Tony whipped his head around, searching for his old friend. Panic started to strangle him again as the gravity of Bruce's absence grew heavier with each passing second.

"Where's Bruce?" Tony asked hesitantly, fearing the answer that was about to come. Pepper's eyes widened as she turned her head to look at him.

"He's alive." She said quickly and Tony breathed another sigh of relief. This constant ebb and flow of fear and relief was really starting to get to him. He wasn't sure how much more his old ticker could take. But then Pepper's face crumpled in worry and Tony felt his body tense up in response. "He saw the state that Peter is in and ran down to the Medical Bay. Helen is… gone. Everyone else has left. He's all we got right now."

Once again, fear and relief, with a slap of grief for good measure. Tony's steps staggered under him and Steve and Pepper's arms tightened around him. Each emotional blow hit him in quick succession, like turbulent ocean waves. Fear that Bruce had been lost again, when Tony had only just gotten him back. Relief that his friend had immediately tended to Peter's health. For that, Tony knew that he would always be indebted to him. Grief for his colleague, who's ashes clung to Tony's hands along with billions of others. Helen Cho, who was one of the greatest minds of her generation, had signed on to be the Avengers' Doctor knowing that it would likely place her in danger. Hell, it already had when Tony had created Ultron. The world had been under Iron Man's protection, but she had been under Tony's protection once she had signed the contract. He had always tried his best to keep his people safe.

What a joke.

Tony couldn't protect anyone. He was insignificant compared to the strength and might of aliens. Not for the first time, Tony was left to consider his dad's old philosophy. The one that he had passed down to him and which he had framed his weapons manufacturing company around.

Peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy.

Well, Earth was the 'other guy' now. The guy with a littler stick. Hell, they were carrying a twig by comparison to the forest that resided in space. They were terribly vulnerable with their inferior tech. As he had confessed to Pepper after his first brush with alien forces, he was just a man in a can. At one time, he had thought that if he worked hard enough, if he devoted all of his effort in to protecting the Earth, he could save it. The only thing that truly mattered was the outcome of the fight. He had lost. All of that time he had devoted to building a suit of armor around the world, protecting it, it had all been for nothing. He had wasted six years of his life preparing for a fight that he would lose. He should have spent those six years focused on what he couldn't live without.

Pepper.

Rhodey.

Peter.

Happy.

His family. But wait… he hadn't seen Happy yet. Tony stomach dropped as he realized this. He stopped dead in his tracks, leaving Steve and Pepper to stagger one step forward before stopping. Tony looked to Pepper for answers, as he always did.

"Is Happy…"

Tears flooded Pepper's blue eyes, though she tried her best to blink them back before they spilled over on to her cheeks. It was answer enough for Tony.

"He's gone too." She said in a choked voice before turning forward and pressing on. She subtly wiped her free hand over her eyes and Tony noticed how it trembled.

Happy had been employed as Tony's body guard around the same time that Pepper had become his personal assistant. For the longest time it had been a three-person effort between Happy, Pepper, and Rhodey to ensure that Tony didn't wind up in jail or dead. Happy had always grumbled and griped that Tony didn't pay him enough for the crap he had to put up with, and Tony agreed. He could never repay him with money alone. He had owed him so much more. Tony felt his throat constrict.

Steve and Pepper slowly brought Tony down to the Med Bay. The walk felt longer than normal, and the time was passed in sombre silence. Tony's head throbbed and he felt weary to his bones. But he kept his slow and steady pace. One foot in front of the other, because Peter needed him. And he needed Peter. The Med Bay doors slid open quietly and Pepper pushed him down in to the closest wheel chair. Sometimes, it was scary how well she knew him. She knew that her attempts to get him to lie down in a bed would be futile.

The Med Bay was much more spacious than Tony remembered it being. He knew that was ridiculous. It's not as if the room magically grew in size since the last time he had been here. Tony had been personally involved the construction of the Avengers Compound. He had looked over all of the blue prints and designs. He could rattle off all the useless statistics that described this room. How many square feet the floor was. The length, height, and depth of the walls. Where the electrical wiring was concealed behind drywall. The Med Bay was exactly as it was three weeks ago, and at the same time so different. It was larger. It echoed when any noises were made.

Tony realized with his stomach plummeting what was different about it.

It was hollow.

Without its usual medical staff bustling around, it was a shell. The lack of people made it look bigger than normal. Suddenly, the full weight of his failure hit him. Acrid bile crept up his throat and Tony had to choke it back down. The evidence of his failure was staring him in the face. The empty room that held only five survivors. The echoes were haunting. Their presence reminding him of his inability to protect anyone.

Tony's clenched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He had to focus on what remained, or he would go crazy. He opened his eyes and they immediately found Peter. The only patient in the overly large room. Bruce was working over him. An IV already attached to his arm and fluids dripping in to him. Peter was all skin and bone. Fragile and frail in every conceivable way. Over the course of his mentoring, the kid had wound up in this room more times than Tony would care to admit. Each time leaving Tony's hair a little more gray than the last. But Peter had never looked this terrible before. He had always been conscious before. He would babble away bullshit reassurances that fell on Tony's deaf ears.

"I'm okay, Mr. Stark, really. The bullet just grazed me."

"C'mon, Mr. Stark! The building wasn't even that tall. I'm totally fine. Don't call Aunt May!"

"See? It's just a hairline fracture. Karen got you worried over nothing. My healing factor will take care of it and my leg will be good as new in the morning. No need to bother Dr. Cho."

Thank God, Tony had had the foresight to program the AI in Peter's suit to disregard the boy's requests if he was hurt. If it were up to Peter, he would pull a black knight, looking at his severed arm on the ground while declaring that it was 'just a flesh wound'. Tony grinned ruefully at the thought. The kid with his endless geyser of pop culture references was rubbing off on him. The smile quickly fell from his face because, really, nothing was funny about this situation. Not a damn thing.

Someone had wheeled Tony over to Peter's bed side, but Tony wasn't sure who it was. His attention was focused solely his kid. He took Peter's hand in both of his, only letting go long enough for Bruce to slip and IV in to his own arm. Tony held Peter's thin hand in both of his. From the kid's other arm, an IV line split in to two drip bags. One with saline, the other a bag of nutrients. The same stuff fed in to Tony's own arm, because they were in the same boat. Tony was just a little better off than Peter was. On his shoulder, Pepper's hand gripped his shoulder gently. Its warmth and weight reassuring him that one of his greatest fears hadn't come to pass.

"He's going to be okay." Pepper had murmured in to his ear, but Tony had barely heard her. A heavy weight was pressed over his chest and he was struggling against it just to breathe.

Voices started speaking. Soft requests for him to rest, but he couldn't. It was impossible. His eyes itched with tiredness, and a headache was pounding behind his eyes, but still he refused to sleep. Peter wasn't out of the woods. Not yet. Even though Tony was completely useless here, and he had faith in Bruce's medical capabilities, he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep until Peter was awake. So he would wait.

More voices spoke, but this time they were talking around him rather than to him.

"FRIDAY, get me another reading on his temperature."

"102.4 degrees Fahrenheit. Given Mr. Parker's extremely dehydrated state, I would recommend checking his kidney functionality."

Tony winced at that and clutched Peter's brittle hand a little tighter.

"Who is he?"

"Peter Parker. He's been mentoring under Tony for almost two years."

"And by 'mentoring', you mean-"

"Of the hero variety. Yes."

"He seems a little young to be-"

"Not now, Steve."

That one smarted too, because Steve was absolutely right. Peter was too young for all of this, and Tony had been unbelievably selfish to pull him into this kind of life. Steve had mercifully gone silent and shortly after, he left the Med Bay.

Time ticked on. Minutes turning in to hours. Or maybe it just felt like hours. Tony had never been a patient man. He remained at his post, only looking up when Pepper's hand left his shoulder. He watched her figure leave the room and then return with a granola bar and a bottle of water.

"Remember to take care of yourself too," she muttered and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I'm fine." He said reflexively, but accepted the food and drink from her anyway. He put the bottle in his lap and held the granola bar in his hands. His finger tips ran idly along the rippled edge of the foil wrapper. He knew that he should try to eat it, but the though of putting anything in his stomach made it lurch in protest. He was distracted from his internal struggle by the rough sound of chair legs being scrapped across linoleum. Tony glanced up to see Pepper inching a chair close to his side and sit down in it. She leaned back in it with a tired air that made Tony feel a bit guilty. "You should sleep," he added. Pepper lifted her eyes to meet his and smiled with little humour.

"That's my line."

Tony chuckled at the reminder of all the sleepless nights he had spent disregarding Pepper's nagging at him to sleep. And eat. And really, just maintain himself as a person. God, how had she put up with him for so long?

"I'm right where I want to be," she added softly and her eyes drifted over to Peter's face. Blank and sunken in his unconscious state. Some colour had returned to his skin, but the small improvement wasn't strong enough to banish the guilt from Tony's mind.

Tony dropped his eyes back to the granola bar in his hands. He fiddled with it to give his hands something to do, but it did nothing to distract his mind from the avalanche of worrying thoughts. He worried about what Peter's state of health would be, both physically and mentally, after he woke up. He had faith that Peter's healing factor and medical treatment could recover his health, but what if there were long term effects from nearly starving to death? Christ, May Parker would kill him if…

Oh, God.

The granola bar fell from Tony's hands and landed softly on his lap. A cold sweat break over his skin and his pulse was almost audible in his ears.

"Pep," he croaked before clearing his throat. Pepper's hand came to rest on his forearm and he placed his own hand over top of it. The warmth of her hand gave him strength and he raised his eyes to meet her worried blue ones. "Do you know if May Parker is-" Pepper shook her head before he had even finished his question. Her lips pressed in a thin line, as she always did when she was trying to keep her emotions in check. Tony's heart sunk in to the depths of his chest.

Half of all life erased from existence. Why did May Parker have to be a part of that half? Peter had already lost his parents and his uncle in the course of his young life. Why did he have to lose May as well? The kid was too young to be dealing with this. Too young to have lost so much. This loss would devastate him. Not just because he had lost the woman who was practically his mom, but also because of the nature of her death. Tony knew that Peter would feel responsible for it, and that was the reaction that Tony was dreading the most. Peter shouldered too much burden. Too much responsibility and guilt for things that he couldn't have prevented. It was the same, Tony suspected, for his uncle's death as well. Although they had never spoken about the death of his Uncle Ben, Tony knew that Peter also felt responsible for his death. Tony had read the police report before he made that first trip to Queens to recruit Peter. Tony knew that Peter had been there and held his uncle as he bled out from a gun shot wound. He could piece those facts together with Peter's voice and body language whenever the conversation turned to his uncle.

"It's gonna be hard for him when he wakes up." Pepper said softly, breaking Tony's train of thought. He didn't turn to look at her, but he could feel her eyes on him. Taking in his reaction cautiously. He placed his hand over Peter's. His larger hand shielding his smaller one.

"I don't know how I can tell him, Pep. He's already lost so much."

"But he hasn't lost everything."

Well, that was certainly true. Tony would always be there for Peter. He would shield him from as much of the cruelty that the universe threw, for as long as he could. Tony's mind was already made up; Peter would live with him. Now he just had to find a way to get Pepper on board with the idea.

"He's still got us. We gotta make sure that he knows that," Pepper added. Tony whipped his head around to look at her, hardly daring to believe his ears.

"Us?"

Pepper rolled her eyes in that way that she always did when she was annoyed and yet still endeared by him.

"Yes, Tony. Us. We've been an 'us' for a long time. The marriage contract is just a formality."

Huh.

Tony had thought that it would take some time to convince her to take in a teenager. That was the sort of thing that most people took a long time to consider, right? Tony thought it was. He himself had a long history of impulsive decision making, and Pepper had been there for most of them, urging him to reconsider. Maybe, she was finally worn down by twenty years of his antics. Or maybe, Tony was absolutely transparent and she already knew how much he loved Peter. Both explanations seemed equally possible.

"So, you're okay with him living with us?" Tony asked hesitantly. "I know it's unconventional, and you two don't really know each other-"

"So we'll get to know each other," she stated firmly. Her voice was strained with emotion and yet still carried the same commanding ring that was present whenever she was trying to establish something. She leaned forward to place her hand over Tony's and give it a slight squeeze. Their hands formed a small pile. Peter's below Tony's below Pepper's. "He's coming home with us."

For a moment, Tony was speechless. Emotion robbed him of his voice. God, he loved this woman so much. She was perfect because she understood him in a way that no one else did.

"You're something special, Miss Potts."

A small tired smirk crossed her face as she leaned back in to her seat again.

"Don't you forget it."

They sat together in companionable silence for a time. Tony was starting to feel a little better as the saline and nutrients did their work. Of course, it did nothing to ease his fatigue, but he found that he could nibbled at the granola bar cautiously. Eventually, he managed to finish it and he drank some of the water. Pepper had moved to lie down on one of the hospital beds and within seconds, soft snores could be heard in the otherwise silent room. Tony wanted to do the same. The headache behind his eyes was more intense with each passing hour. But he made a promise to himself. He had to wait.

Footsteps approached from Tony's side and he glanced over to see Bruce reading a chart in his hands. He glanced up from it once he reached Tony's side.

"His kidney functionality is back within a good margin," Bruce said. The confidence in his tone was reassuring. Tony closed his eyes as relief washed over him. His whole body deflated like one giant exhaling breath. "He's gonna be fine, Tony. Maybe you should consider getting some sleep too."

A smirk played at Tony's mouth at the sound of Bruce's tone. Cautious and exasperated all at once. They had only been reunited for a couple hours and already he could tell that his friend was done with his shit. Good old Bruce. Tony had really missed him.

"Yeah, I'll get some shut eye in a little bit," Tony said while opening his eyes, like a tiny, passive-aggressive act of rebellion. Bruce's tired face came in to view just in time for Tony to see him roll his eyes. Wow. Two eye rolls in a couple of hours? It was nice to see that Tony hadn't lost his talent for annoying people while he was lost in space.

Bruce's face suddenly adopted an expression that Tony was deeply familiar with. His eyes became both focused and distant as he became lost in thought. His eyes searched Tony's face before he turned to glance at Peter.

"Is he…" Bruce trailed off flicking his glance back towards Tony.

"What?"

Bruce shook his head slightly and Tony could see him trying to suppress his curiosity. 'Trying to' being the key term here. They were scientists. For them, curiosity was never something that could be dispelled completely.

"Nothing, it's none of my business."

Tony realized what Bruce wanted to ask, and it twisted like a knife in his stomach.

"No, he's not my son," Tony muttered. It was the truth. He loved Peter like his own son, but it would be wrong of him to try to pass himself off as the kid's dad. Not when he had already had a father and an uncle who were much better fathers than Tony could ever hope to be. He had never met them, but the proof of their good parenting was present in Peter. In his exemplary code of ethics. His unshakable faith in people, no matter how many times he had been screwed over. Tony could never create someone that was so good.

"But you care about him enough to take him in," Bruce stated with some of that irrepressible curiosity seeping in to his voice. He was dancing around the edges of a topic that Tony wasn't sure he wanted to talk about. Not with Bruce anyway.

"Eavesdropping is rude, Brucie," he said with some of his usual snarky humour.

"It's not eavesdropping when the room is silent and the two of you forget that I'm still here," Bruce said while nodding in Pepper's direction.

"I didn't forget. I just got bigger things to worry about than starting office gossip." Tony quipped back. Bruce raised his eyebrows a fraction and a heavy silence fell between them. It didn't last long. Just long enough for Tony to start to feel guilty. Bruce was one of the few people in the compound that he wasn't pissed at. He really shouldn't be such a prick to one of his last remaining friends. "Yeah, I care. I care a lot," he admitted with a tired shrug. As if his attempt at nonchalance would be able to convince Bruce that he hadn't turned in to a total softie while Bruce had been MIA for three years. Bruce's eyes regarded him with a more thoughtful expression. Before Tony could wonder too much about it, the doors to the Med Bay slid open. Rhodey took long determined strides in to the room.

"Steve's calling a meeting," Rhodey said softly, his eyes darting between Pepper and Peter's sleeping forms. While Tony appreciated his effort to not wake anyone, his words reignited that old match flame. The one that was just begging to be thrown on gasoline. To grow and rage on for no purpose other than to burn the air.

Of course Steve was trying to get the band back together. Why wouldn't he? Sure, he had bailed on the Avengers and had been living incognito for two years. But Steve was the leader of the Avengers, gosh darn it. Of course, he could come on back and slip in to his old role of team leader like an old glove. It was just so… Steve. He was the man with a plan, even after the game was lost.

"Can't it wait? He hasn't really rested at all," Bruce asked and Tony felt a rush of fondness for one of the last people in his corner.

"Well, who's fault is that?" Rhodey asked sarcastically. Rhodey wasn't much of an eye roller, and never had been. But still, the annoyance was there and that was what counted. Damn, Tony was three for three today. If being a pain in the ass was an Olympic sport, Tony would be a gold medalist.

"I'm busy," Tony grumbled, turning his eyes back towards Peter and effectively shutting Rhodey out. Hopefully, he would take the hint.

"He's not going anywhere," Rhodey said with a softer edge to his voice. Tony could recognize when his friend was handling him with kid gloves. It was an ongoing dynamic in their friendship. One that he never cared for.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not leaving him alone."

"I'm gonna stay with him, Tony. He won't be alone," Bruce interjected and Tony cast him an annoyed scowl. Whose side was he on anyway? "If you're not gonna sleep then you should get filled in on what's been happening."

"I already know what happened; We lost. End of story. Meeting not required."

Rhodey gave an aggravated sigh through his nose and crossed his arms.

"C'mon, man. Don't make this difficult."

Tony laughed a humourless laugh at that. Sometimes, it was like Rhodey didn't know him at all.

"Nice to meet you, stranger. I'm Tony."

Well, that seemed to be the tipping point on Rhodey's bullshit tolerance levels. Without a word, he uncrossed his arms, strode behind Tony's wheelchair and grabbed on to the handlebars.

"Hey!" Tony reached his arm around to slap at Rhodey's hand on the handlebar. It was, admittedly, a pathetically wimpy slap. Tony really didn't have the energy for a more forceful one. Rhodey ignored him and pushed the chair towards the Med Bay door. Behind them, Tony could see Bruce give him a little wave. Tony turned back around in a huff.

Jerks.

Nervousness was building in Tony's chest the further they went from the Med Bay. He honestly couldn't tell if it was nervousness over leaving Peter before he had regained consciousness, or nervousness over seeing his old team again. Seeing Steve again. Steve who had made a choice, the result of which had left him beaten and bloody in Siberia.

'He's my friend.'

'So was I.'

Tony's headache gave a particularly painful throb as he remembered that day. It was probably for the best that he not open old wounds. There was time enough for that later, he expected. He needed to think of something else. He needed to get Rhodey talking to him again.

"Can't believe this," Tony grumbled half-heartedly. "Being manhandled by my best friend."

"No one's manhandling your skinny ass. I'm chair handling you."

"Yeah, that's a really important distinction," Tony snapped back. He was greeted with silence. Rhodey wasn't rising to the bait, so Tony would just have to poke him with a stick some more. "Well, you've really opened my eyes. I now realize that I got two pet peeves; being handed things and being physically moved while my body is too weak to do anything about it."

"I know, after everything that went down with the accords and Siberia, you don't want to talk to them. But it's gotta happen."

Rhodey's words rang in the empty hallway even though he was speaking rather quietly. Tony's breathing hitched and his witty come back died in his throat. So, this was it. The reunion with the old team. Tony really didn't know what to expect when he and Rhodey reached the meeting room. What do you say to people who you haven't seen in years? Who you had a huge falling out with? Tony guessed it didn't really matter. This wasn't a social call. This was Steve trying to fix something that was broken beyond repair. And for what? It was over. It had all played out almost exactly as Tony had seen in his vision. Thanos had wrought his destruction and there was nothing left to do.

The doors to the meeting room slid open. Steve, Natasha and Rocket Man talked with their heads together in hushed tones. The conversation halted abruptly as all eyes turned to look at Tony. It wasn't the first time that Tony had awkwardly walked in to a conversation about himself. But for some reason, seeing his former friends whispering about him behind their hands kinda pissed him off.

"Don't mind me," Tony called out while waving his hand in a nonchalant manner. "Pretend like I'm not even here. Carry on with the office gossip."

Steve broke away from the trio and walked cautiously nearer to Tony. It was then that Tony noticed the names and faces of everyone who had vanished being projected above the meeting table. Tony simultaneously felt his stomach clench and his blood boil, but he couldn't look away. Who was the masochistic bastard who decided to parade the names and faces of those that Tony had failed to protect?

"Tony, no one was talking about-"

"I'm joking," Tony cut off Steve bluntly. He wanted to get this over with. Wanted to get away from Steve and his stupid patronizing voice. Tony's brand of dark humour would just draw out the meeting longer than it needed to be. "Jeeves rolled me in here cause I gotta get debriefed on the past three weeks. So, what's the word?"

The shift in Tony's tone took everyone by surprise, but only for a moment. They were used to his shifting moods by now.

"Its been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth," Steve said in that sure and confidant manner. If Tony closed his eyes, he could imagine that this was a debriefing for taking down a Hydra base and not the end of the world.

"World governments are in pieces," Natasha continued while Tony rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. He watched the holographic profiles flash before his eyes. After a moment, he realized that he was searching for Clint, who wasn't present at the table. "The parts that are still working are trying to take a census."

Scott Lang's holographic face faded away and was replaced with Peter's. Tony's stomach lurched and all of the breath was stolen from his lungs.

"What the hell is this?" Tony wanted to shout, but really it came out like a wheeze as he struggled to gain his breath again. Peter's face morphed in to the Wakandan Princess's.

Peter was fine. He was back in the Med Bay, where Tony had left him, recovering and in Bruce's care. Tony knew that, but seeing Peter among the vanished felt like a waking nightmare.

"Sorry…" Natasha rushed out as she hastily made a holographic key board appear and typed something into it. "We thought that-"

"Yeah, I know what you thought." Tony bit out. "Twenty-three days is a long time, but it looks like you guys jumped the gun a bit. Am I in this too?"

Guilt and embarrassment were palpable in the room. Everyone avoided Tony's searing gaze. Tony had always thought that if he ever got the chance to verbally tear his old team mates a new one, it would be really satisfying. The kind of satisfying that would ensure that he slept better at night. Instead, he just felt sick.

"Thanos did exactly what he said he was going to do," Natasha continued hesitantly. "He wiped out fifty percent of all living creatures."

The dull throbbing behind Tony's eyes was growing. He needed to hurry this along.

"Where is he now? Where?"

"We don't know," Steve said. "He just opened a portal and walked through."

Well, that was entirely unhelpful. Tony wasn't even sure why he had asked. There was no fixing this anyway. He sighed and ran a hand over his brow. He noticed, for the first time, that Thor was sitting alone in a room separated by a glass wall. He looked different with his shorn Goldilocks hair. Were his eyes different colours? That might have been a trick of the light. Still, his friend was alive. Tony felt relief ease over his headache like a balm.

"What's wrong with him?" Tony asked. He wasn't about to get sappy around Steve or Natasha, so he resorted back to his usual snarky tone.

"Ah, he's pissed," an unfamiliar voice called out. Tony looked around for the source and saw a racoon dressed in clothing staring at him with intelligent eyes. "He thinks he failed. Which, of course, he did. But there's a lot of that going around, ain't there?"

What the...

Idly, Tony wondered why it was less surprising to see a blue cyborg alien speaking than a common raccoon. It's official. Nothing makes sense anymore.

"Honestly up until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-a-Bear."

"Maybe I am," the racoon replied with a shrug.

"We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now," Steve continued, paying no mind to Chip 'n' Dale. Oh, wait. Those were squirrels, not raccoons. God, could this just be over already? "Deep space scans, satellites, and we've got nothing. Tony, you fought him-"

"Who told you that?" Tony bristled. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleeker Street Magician gave away the store. That's what happened. There was no fight, because… because he beat me."

"Okay," Steve said placatingly. Tony felt his hackles rising in anticipation of the questions that he knew were coming. "Did he give you any clues- any coordinates, anything?"

There it was. The reason why Tony had been summoned here and taken from his kid's side. This, right here. Of course, they wanted to pick his brain. Cause really, that was all he was useful for, right? He was the mechanic. The fix-it guy. The brains behind the operation. The team would pick and choose when they wanted to listen to him. Wasn't it just bitter-sweet irony that no one had listened to him before, and now they were running to him for help?

"I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. I didn't want to believe it. Thought I was dreaming," Tony admitted and ran a hand over his mouth. Steve's expression showed a twinge of annoyance at his rambling. Good.

"Tony, I'm gonna need you to focus-"

"And I needed you," Tony said icily. A small flutter of a flinch crossed Steve's face. "As in past tense. That trumps what you need – it's too late, Buddy. Sorry." Finally, he had said the thing he had been wanting to say for years. He allowed himself to let go and drop the match. Fire meets gasoline. There was something dangerously satisfying about that combination.

No one on the team had ever fully appreciated the gravity of the threat that aliens posed. Ever since the battle of New York, back in 2012, Tony had dedicated all of his effort in to staving off the imminent annihilation of the human race. The threat, as it had turned out, had only been half of an annihilation. A demi-annihilation? Half of all life, everywhere, gone. In the years leading up to Thanos' attack, Tony had hoped that the team would finally work with him rather than against him. They didn't. They had squabbled and bickered over rights, freedoms, and control. No one had wanted to see the bigger picture, and now this apocalyptic nightmare was their future.

"You know what I need?" Tony asked while knocking over a bowl on the table. The metal clanked loudly on the hard wood table, causing everyone to jump. Adrenaline and rage fueled his body, making the effort to rise to his feet less strenuous than it should have been. "I need a shave. And I believe I remember telling, all of you, alive or otherwise-" Tony interrupted himself in order to pull the IV out of his arm. "That what we needed was a suit of armor around the world." Vaguely, his mind registered that he was yelling. Everyone was watching him like a rabid dog about to bite. "Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not. That's what we needed."

"Well, that didn't work out did it?" Steve asked rhetorically. Tony's insides clenched and his head was pounding with the thrum of his circulating blood.

How fucking dare he.

"I said we'd lose," Tony continued, fighting to keep his voice level. "You said 'we'll do that together too'. Well guess what Cap? We lost. And you weren't there." Steve at least had the decency to look ashamed at that. "But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers. We're the Avengers? Not the Pre-vengers, right?"

Rhodey stepped up to Tony and placed his hands on his shoulders and upper arms.

"Okay. You made your point, just sit down-" He said while trying to push Tony back to his wheel chair. Well, that was just Rhodey's way, wasn't it? He was the peace keeper. The one who tried to steer Tony away from the cliff before he drove straight off of it. This wasn't a drunken birthday party. This wasn't a press conference. This wasn't a court appearance. Tony was having none of his peace keeping bullshit today. This meeting, this combustion, was a long time coming, and no one could keep Tony at bay.

"Okay, no, no-" Tony pushed passed Rhodey. "Here's my point. Y'know, she's great right now." He gestured toward Rocket Man who looked surprised to be included in this fight. "We need you, you're new blood. Bunch of tired old mules. I got nothing for you Cap." He spat as he reached Steve. "I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options, zero, zip, nada. No trust, liar."

Tony was done. Done with Steve and done with this thankless job. Maybe the team would be able to find Thanos. Maybe they would succeed and avenge the fallen. But they would do it without him. Tony would have no part in this anymore.

"Here, take this," Tony said as desperation and terror started to claw at his throat. With one hand, he reached under his shirt and ripped off his arc reactor. He grabbed Steve's hand and slapped it in to his open palm. "You find him, you put that on. You hide."

Steve's face was falling in to that punchable combination of pity and worry. Tony didn't have the energy to dwell on it. His adrenaline was fading along with his rage. Nothing was sustaining him now. His head felt like it was about to burst. No, it was about to combust. His vision was tunneling again. A delayed sharp pain shot through his knees as he fell to them.

"Tony!"

"I'm fine," Tony said because it was the truth. He didn't need these guys. Through some divine intervention, Tony had managed to hold on to his tiny, fragile family. He would be fine because he had them. He was always fine.

Tony was already unconscious as his body fell to the floor.

I'm not super thrilled with this chapter. It wasn't as fun to write because it relies so heavily on scenes directly from Endgame. It kinda felt like a stepping stone chapter to get to the stuff that I actually want to write. On that note, this is the last time that I'm lifting dialogue (whole conversations as oppose to a couple lines here and there) directly from the movie. Tony's verbal smack down was so good in Endgame. Altering that scene at all felt like taking finger paints to the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

Anyway, after this chapter the plot is going to deviate from the original plot a lot. I'm still going to hit some major plot points after this chapter, but for the most part I'm playing with the MCU like a kid locked in Disney land at night.