Earth 4

Day 14 of Invasion

It was the dead of night. It was the dead of night. It was the dead of night.

He had to keep reminding himself that as he squinted his eyes away from the harsh light around him.

Everything was on fire.

Granted, the sky had been on fire for what felt like eons. As he paused to catch his breath he counted the days. Had it really only been eleven? No – it was past midnight – twelve. But now, in the midst of it all, everything was on fire. Flames twelve feet tall leapt from buildings and scorched snake-like paths through the ground. It illuminated the world around him like the sun. It felt hot like the sun, too. He was sure he had burns on his skin; Tony had made sure the nanotech in the suits wouldn't fuse with their tissue.

Something heavy fell on his armored head. He glanced up, confused as another dark object swung from the ceiling and he spun out of the way as it barreled past him – the building was collapsing!

He dove frantically for the exit, wondering just how fast fire could travel as the smoke filled steadily into the room. Nothing hindered his breathing except himself thanks to the suit, but his pounding heart and racing mind made sure he wasn't getting enough oxygen. Large, gasping breaths rose from his puffing chest as he pushed blindly through smog and felt the door.

He paused, remembering why he had entered the house in the first place. It had been a safe haven, one of the only things left standing that wasn't on fire or surrounded by monsters. The rising heat from it now made him panic but he turned back inside with tears in his eyes. Was it worth it? How much longer could he keep fighting? He had seen people die by the hands of those things and he didn't think that was how he wanted to go. He could just give up now – walk back into the flames and never return. At least this way he would die by his own choosing, a little less noble perhaps, but better than being eaten alive. His jaw clenched as his breath hitched, tears glossing over his chocolate eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to no one in particular but rather everyone all at once. Visons of his dead family and friends haunted his mind and circled around him in teasing wait. He could join them now. All he had to do was think and – the head of his suit shifted open. The small particles slowly moved away like water amongst the flames. He held his breath for a few moments more before breathing deeply in – maybe he could flood his lungs with carbon dioxide and then he'd be long gone before the real pain would start and the flames would lick over his skin. Limbs fell down around him and walls started to cave in. He wasn't the cowardly son, why was he giving up? There was a brief moment of resistance in his eyes before it faded as he closed them, sucking in another long breath. Let me have this one moment of weakness. Let it wash over me and take me away. He thought of Howard in those moments, his smiling face and their mother's blue eyes.

With his eyes closed he could see him more clearly; hear his crisp laugh as he shook his head charmingly and offered out a hand. It's okay now, he said, I won't let it hurt anymore. Another tear slid down his cheek but for a different reason now. He reached out to take Howard's hand and the corner of his lip twitched upward into a smile. Everything was going to be okay because his big brother said so.

"Tyler!" There was a scream behind him. Howard began to fade and he reached out desperately, trying to cling onto those phantom limbs. Then someone was grabbing at him- at his arms and legs and chest – desperately clawing and dragging him from his sweet death. His eyes popped open as his lungs were met with fresh air, the sudden roar of the fire deafening to his ears.

His burning gaze turned wild around him, frantically meeting with a pair of equally divine eyes. They were the younger eyes of his brother, Harley. His nanotech suit must have been running out, it covered only part of his mouth and cheek. He was fearful and afraid as he shook Tyler with angry concern, shouting at him and calling out for their father.

Tyler roared with anger, forcefully pushing the younger Stark off of him. He stumbled away as best he could; crying angry sobs when he found the building lay in rubble before him. He desperately tried to jump in, to melt away in the fire, but Harley had a hold of him again.

"No!" He screamed with a hoarse voice, using all his strength to break free but it wasn't working. "What are you doing? Let go!" He could feel Harley flinch with every word. He was scaring his little brother – terrifying him, but he didn't care.

"Howard!" He sunk to his knees in sudden anguish, turning his head to the blazing sky above him and searching for his face with all his might. "Howard – come back!" Harley watched with more terror than he had felt in his entire life as the chaos around him melted into the background and he watched Tyler call out for their dead brother. He looked around in fear, knowing that he had to get them both out of danger. But what would he do now? Tyler had always been more rational than he – had always looked out for Harley when he did stupid things. Tyler had never been the one to break down or show emotion about anything.

"Howard!" He howled at the sky like a starving wolf. Harley latched himself onto his brother, desperately dragging him to his feet.

"Tyler! We need to get out of here!" But his words were lost in the elder's ears, his mind far gone as he began to cry nonsense.

A Changer landed a couple yards away, no doubt drawn in by Tyler's rabid screams. Harley dropped his brother and let him sink into the ground again, watching as the creature cocked its ugly head and inched forward. Harley's heart began to race as he panicked, stepping in front of Tyler to protect him and firing a repulsor at it. He called for his father over the comms again – where was he? The creature advanced and dove for Harley, he meeting it halfway. They tangled on the ground and then it spurted wings and took them to the sky.

It's a diversion! Harley realized too slowly as he looked to the ground to see three more circling his brother and he crouched hopelessly before them, waiting for his life to be passed through their hands like a toy.

"No!" Harley screamed and blasted the head off of his first attacker, dropping to the ground and rolling to fire at the others. But three was too many. Excited that he fought back they pounced at him, crushing him with their ugly clawed feet and sharp jaws.

"Tyler!" He called hysterically for help, firing random blasts in every direction and just hoping that it would do something. He felt his body be swung upward and then he let out a gasp as sharp teeth pierced his armor and sunk through his abdomen.

"Tyler," he pleaded, what remained of his helmet shifting away to try and cover up the now exposed flesh. It was stupid of him, maybe, but he wanted the last thing he saw to be his brother. No helmet, no screen, just real life and real death. Blood trickled out of his mouth.

Tyler's head slowly raised, his eyes slowly focusing back on the world around him – too late. "Harley?" His voice was distant as he sprung to his feet, charging at the Changers. "Harley!"

He took one down, and then two, but the third would not let go and there were five more incoming. "Let him go you bastards!" He screamed and screamed at them as he fought like he was invincible. They struck blow after blow at him but he kept going, kept fighting, the whole time dreading and hating himself.

There was a pure arc of light above him and then Tony was there, fighting side by side with his equally powerful son. In seconds the monsters were gone; obliterated to ash and dust and Tyler cradled Harley's broken body in his arms, his torso attached to his hips through thin strands of bloodied flesh and jagged bone. His eyes were open and glazed with fear. That had been his last emotion: fear. His mouth hung open with his final silent plea for Tyler's help.

Tyler wouldn't stop crying as Tony looked on from above them, unable to mourn his son or risk losing another one. His last one.

"I'm sorry!" It was Tyler's chant, over and over, as he looked from Harley's haunting body to his father in the sky.

"Tyler!" He shook his head, glancing up to meet Tony's eyes. Tony opened his mouth to say something but let it close gently as they made eye contact. Tyler rubbed away his tears.

"We're here," Tony said plainly and suddenly Tyler realized that the Quinjet had already landed. He sprung to his feet, eager to exit when he felt a hand on his chest. Tony gently pushed him back until they were face to face and stared him straight in the eyes.

"It's not your fault," Tyler's jaw clenched. His father wasn't always the best at showing emotion, but he could see Tony's eyes practically begging him to believe. He looked down at his shoes, dusty and dirty from days spent walking around aimlessly in all the destruction. Finally, he looked back up at his father and then forced himself to walk away.

"Yes it is."

Steve had come back to bad news. Day fourteen's mid-day wave had taken its devastating share of victims. Among the day's growing death list were Helen Cho and her synthetic healing cradle. It was the final blow that sent Steve over the edge. He had no choice but to set Fay down on an old medical bed covered with dirty rags. Her body had long since gone limp, what few medics remained urgently checking her vitals and body for the damage delivered.

That was where she lay now – crumpled up in dirt and grime and a pulse so faint it the machines could barely read it. She drifted in and out of consciousness every few minutes, at times aware and her usual self but mostly she just mumbled incoherently and screamed bloody murder.

He couldn't bear to listen to it any longer. The sound of his child dying shredded his brain. Parents would do anything to stop their children from hurting and Steve couldn't afford to be drastic, no matter how much he longed for those options.

Cal was too much like Steve for his own good. He had a lot of his mother in him, too, but all the mannerisms and ideologies of Steve. He butted heads with his sister a lot, but the two were still incredibly close; he had stayed by her side as soon as Steve carried her in. He had disobeyed the doctor's orders and clung to her pale hand like it would keep him alive, like he was the one dying. Steve was ashamed that he had to wish he had done the same thing. No, he simply stood aside in shock as people busied about him, running and doing everything they could to save his daughters life. And he just stood there.

Maybe Cal was too pure for his own good. When Steve had turned and walked away from it all Cal had been by his side in a matter of seconds. No words, no emotions or glances; just a quiet companion on Steve's walk of shame.

Tyler and Tony were met almost immediately by Bucky as they stepped off from the ship. He was running to them like a speeding bullet, his face confused but filled with something Tyler could easily recognize. He had run out of it the very first day of the invasion when all the shit in the world had hit the fan. Bucky Barnes was running towards them with radiant hope in his eyes. But there was something else, too.

"You guys are back," he stated, though Tyler guessed it was more of a question. It wasn't 'hey guys, what's up? Glad you're back!' it was' why the hell are you here?'

They only nodded silently. Tony went to speak but Bucky was already looking at Tyler.

"I came as soon as I knew you landed – it's Fay." The world slowed down as dread panned onto his face. He was only moderately aware of Tony's hand gently clutching his shoulder, pressing Tyler back into his chest in a comforting and embracing manner. When Tyler couldn't speak, it was Tony's turn.

"Is she…?" Tony couldn't finish his sentence, but it was okay because his words sounded miles away. His grip on Tyler's shoulder tightened but he could do nothing but blankly stare forward and wait with baited breath.

This can't be happening. This can't be happening. He was the only other Stark who had ever experienced major panic attacks. They had started as a kid when he was attacked by the neighbor's dog. Since then Tyler tried his best to close himself off emotionally. Any big blow would land him shaking and trembling on the floor. His fingers twitched.

"She's alive." They were both still staring at him. Tony sighed in relief. "She's in bad shape though."

"We should go see her." Tony patted Tyler's back and looked expectantly at his son who didn't move an inch. He stood wide-eyed, staring at the ground and struggling for air.

"I have to ask— before you see her – why are you guys back?" Bucky shifted his gun in his grip, his muscles rippling under his tattered clothes. It was the question they had both been dreading. They had rehearsed it in the ride over – exactly how they were going to say it word for word.

"About that…" Tony trailed of as Tyler's brain whizzed. The thoughts put themselves together without any help until his head snapped up and he stared blankly at the Winter Soldier.

"We found a way to stop it. We've secured Asia." So much for the plan. There was a stunned silence. Tyler didn't have time to take in their reactions—to see the pure, genuine hope flood Bucky's face as his eyes crinkled and he smiled for real for the first time in a long time – to see the shocked and open-mouthed look appear on his father's presence before he would look at him incredulously with those dark eyes. That is definitely not what we rehearsed! He could hear the unspoken words clearly as he turned and fled.

And as he ran – "Well, welcome home. Where's Harley?"

He didn't have time to answer the question. To scream and cry and deny Tony's lies and confess that it was his fault. Everything was his fault. Harley's death, them coming home, all the lies he had told and all the cheating he had done. He didn't have time for any of it.

He had a dying girlfriend not one hundred yards away and he'd be damned to be kept from her one moment longer.

Fay let out another groan of pain as she tossed and turned uncomfortably on the cloth beneath her. She was aware of being conscious only a few times; the entire trip back to base was a complete blur to her. She faintly remembered someone holding her hand and encouraging her to keep fighting – it must have been Cal.

Her feathery brown hair lay tangled in clumps under her head, grossly sticking to her cheeks and attacking her eyes. Her hands felt like lead as she reached to rub it out of her face, letting out a surprised grunt when something took them.

"Let me get that for you." She was having another dream. There was no way – but yet his sturdy figure remained with each fragile blink of her eyes. His other hand came down to caress her broken face and remove the sticking strands of hair.

"Ty?" She croaked like frog, hating the way her voice sounded but loving the way his face looked. Except, she realized, it was too sad. His beautiful brown eyes were filled with it, swam with it and played with it like it was all they knew. There was sadness spread all over in his face, mixing with the dirt and the wounds from terrible affairs. Even the smile spreading over his lips was filled with it. Fay wanted to cry just looking at him.

"Hi," he cooed, never letting go of her hand as he searched for a seat. As he grabbed a pail and sunk down on it, she squeezed his fingers with what little strength he had. A small tear lead an army down his face, creating small paths of clean on his dirtied skin. Her face twitched as she readjusted herself to face him properly.

"H-how are you here?" She asked with a growing smile, not being able to help it as her eyes closed tiredly and she let out a small hum. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles as he leaned onto her thin mattress. With her eyes closed she couldn't see the brief panic and anguish rush over him in an intense wave.

Instead, he forced himself to smile up at her – a smile as big as he dared without breaking down completely. "We did it Fay, we saved Asia."

Her eyes popped open. It was hard to explain what she was feeling. There was obviously an overwhelming amount of hope spreading through her body, but she also felt happy, ecstatic even, and unequivocally proud.

"I knew you could do it," she whispered to him, gazing into his melting eyes with so much promise of the future that Tyler began to cry even more. She mistook it for lots of things; mostly she just refused to believe any one person could be so sad.

He shook his head, drawing in a large breath through his nose and rubbed at his face. She would not stop looking at him like that! It broke his heart – shattered it into a million pieces. But then he remembered what it was all for and he smiled a sad little smile and bent over to give all of his love to her through one little forehead kiss. Her smile widened as he pulled away, placing individual kisses along her knuckles as he placed his head down on her bed and let his body weigh down with all of his pent up troubles. He looked up at her, and she down at him, watching the breaths come slowly through his body as his shoulders rose and fell.

"Get some rest, Fay, I'll be here when you wake up again. I'm not going anywhere." He sounded so sure, so absolutely confident in his words that she had no doubt in her mind he meant them. She drifted off peacefully for the first time since the invasion had started; a smile on her splitting soul and her boyfriend's hand clasped firmly around her own.

Tony poked his head into the makeshift infirmary. Fay lay there so peacefully, almost happy looking in her sleeping unconscious form. Her pale skin was like the grey of all the corpses around them, her head bandaged tightly and a brace around her torso.

His eyes shifted down, watching his son grasp on tightly to her in his sleep, his shoulders shaking violently as he snored. Tony recognized the nightmare immediately, having gone through it so many times with Pepper. The days that he would wake up panicked and confused had quickly become countless in number, melding together into one long terror that was always awake and by Tony's heart and in his brain no matter what his conscious state was.

He shook Tyler harshly, thankfully stirring him from his tortured sleep after only a few seconds. He blinked his eyes rapidly, the sweat pouring down his face and dribbling down his chin.

"We need to talk," Tony whispered, nodding his head outside and watching Tyler let go of her hand reluctantly and follow him into the miserably hot atmosphere.

"Dad, I know what you're going to say," Tyler was quick to look guilty as he dabbed at his face. Tony couldn't even begin to describe what he was feeling. Here he was, standing in front of his last remaining son, barely able to look at him.

The last few days had been torture for everyone – he wasn't going to be the one to deny that. But for Christ sake losing a wife and three boys in less than two weeks was taking a serious toll on the man. Tony didn't know what to feel. A lot of the time the emotions flooded him all at once and he just felt numb, but when one emotion finally peeked out, finally overpowered the others and controlled him; it was always anger.

He knew he wasn't angry at Tyler, not really, but he just couldn't help it. It was not Tyler's fault that Harley had died. You say something in your head ten thousand times before you say it out loud. Words from his late father – but Tony must have thought this exact same thing millions of times.

"No, you don't," he replied flatly, swiping his hand to shut his son up. Look him in the eyes. He couldn't. Tell him again how it's not his fault. He couldn't. Reassure your son. He couldn't.

"I just want to know why." Look at him. Tony's gaze wound its way up from the ground in a slow spiral, finally landing on Tyler's nose. He just couldn't face looking into those damn eyes – the eyes of a lost little boy. The eyes of the only thing he had left in this world.

"I couldn't," his voice cracked. Tony looked away again. "I couldn't do it to her, Dad. Please, we can't let her know. Fay – we can't let her know." Tyler was his forgettable son; that's what the tabloids had called him. Howard was the responsible genius, Jay the rebellious playboy, and Harley the young screw-up. But Tyler? He was just there. He had been with his high-school sweetheart since middle-school, gotten himself a steady job in an old factory, and had even enrolled in college. Sure, he had made his mistakes, but he tried to live a safe, happy life and there was nothing forgettable about that.

They made eye contact. The years flashed before Tony's eyes: Pepper being pregnant with Howard, telling him what a happy occasion it was – a sign of hope after the hopeless months spent fighting Thanos. Then there were three happy little boys running around, Howard taking Tyler under his wing and showing him the world, and then Tyler vowing to do the same thing when little Harley was born. Those had been his first words to the newborn – Hi, I'm Tyler and I'm your big brother. Stick with me and you'll never be sad.

And look at him now. Tyler was visibly shaking in front of him. Tony could see the fear winding its way down his body, injecting itself into his veins and finding a forever home. Yet the boy dared not look away, standing firm on his decision and daring his father to disagree. Tony would not.

"Alright," he said, nodding his head. "We die happily where it all began. With friends." Tyler gave a curt nod with his head and glanced behind him at the closed tent that hid his heart.

"And family."

Tony's face fell as he followed Tyler's gaze. A strong, stoic man flashed into his mind, with a bright smile and a liar's face, carrying America's brand on his shoulders. "And others."