Earth 4

Day 15 of Invasion

Cal didn't want to leave his sister dying on that old, crappy hospital bed. He wanted to hold her hand and make her stay alive – he wasn't about to give her a choice –he couldn't live without her.

But then his dad just started to walk away and he was forced with a hard decision; no matter if he stayed with Fay or followed Steve, they each had a great chance for death. There were really only two differences, however, and they were both kind of sucky – by following his father, Calvin was taking on that greater risk of death. The only thing that swayed his mind to do so was difference number two; Fay was surrounded by people who loved and cared for her, like in the Quinjet they saw landing as they started to walk away – Tony, Tyler, and Harley were probably where Cal wanted to be right now, holding her hand and helping her smile through the pain. Steve, well, he would have had no one if Cal just let him walk off, so, naturally, he went with. No questions asked.

Because he got it; yes, it was unbelievable that Steve would just walk away. He wasn't the walk away type of guy – Captain America finished his fights. But Steve Rogers, the man behind the mask, had already been losing the war when it threatened to take his daughter away. Compared to most of the others left remaining, the Rogers family had been fairing pretty well throughout the invasion. Which was horrible to think about, especially after the death Sharon Carter, and the fact that it was only one family member, and Clint and Tony and so many other had already lost so many more. Fay was just another hard hit by the world trying to take its fair share of the Rogers family. So, yeah, he understood the overwhelming need to just say 'fuck it' and walk away.

Sharon Rogers. God, that had been a hit to the gut. Fay, yea she was their father's daughter through and through. People said that Cal, too, but he always wished they wouldn't. Not that being like his father was bad, but he could see exactly what they were saying and he felt horrible, because if he and Fay were both like their father, then who was there to represent their mother? What glory did she get from her kids if not to have equal representation? You could argue that Fay had some of her mother's spunk, but then you realized it was Steve's eagerness to stand up to bullies and provide endless hope even within the darkest of moments. At least Cal had her nose.

As they spent the night and part of the morning in an abandoned building, outwaiting the raids of Changers and not speaking to each other, Cal had a lot of time to think. And, the more he thought, the more he began to realize something. And as he realized this thing, the more the puzzle pieces kept clicking together.

He looked up from his spot across the destroyed remains of what used to be a grandeur New York City apartment, at his usually so noble father who was currently sitting like a brick on the couch, muscles strained and back straight as he stared ahead and gripped the armrest so tight that his fingers dug holes into the fabric. He watched him for a moment as he stood in the doorway, swallowing hard and crossing his arms so that they wouldn't shake.

"Dad?" He asked carefully, watching as Steve gave a blank hum in reply. "That thing that's scaring you, tearing a whole through you, it isn't the fact that Fay's dying. Is it?" Such an out there question. Yet, as Steve turned to face his son, his eyes sad and his face grim, Cal knew he had hit the nail right on the head.

"I know she'll be okay." It was unneeded confirmation. Cal didn't know that she would be alright – she looked like she was dying to him. But boy, did Steve sound sure of himself. Cal wasn't sure if he had tricked himself into false hope, or if he was so preoccupied with something else that he was too busy to give her his full attention.

"Something more than Howard's death happened that night between you and Tony, didn't it?"

Howard II. Now there was another death that hit hard. Howard was the oldest of the Avenger's children, a happy surprise for Tony and Pepper during some very hard times. He grew up amongst chaos and ruin but still he grew up, becoming a genius faster than Tony had. The guy had a level head, in and out of the battle field. In essence; Howard Stark II was who anyone should have thought of when hearing the word hero. Cal didn't know him too well on a personal record, but his father had been there the day he died. The day Tony Stark lost his second son and when he came back carrying the body, the next day he was gone; out to help Doctor Strange in Asia. Something happened that night, something more than anybody was letting on.

"You're afraid to talk to Tony," Cal continued, his eyebrows creasing in hard lines that easily showed his confusion. "That's why you took off right away when the Quinjet was landing – you knew exactly who would be on it." Cal was getting scared that his father wasn't answering him. He was also slightly worried that no one else had caught onto this, but the answer was rather simple. No one had any reason to doubt Steve. If Steve Rogers said that Tony was retreating to Asia to help Doctor Strange, and he was bringing his sons along because it was too painful to remain in the same city that his wife and children died in, then so it was. It was so easy to fall into that trap, to believe Steve Rogers, because, after all, why would Captain America lie?

"Dad. Answer me." His voice was a little angry now. Cal didn't like to be angry; he thought anger was a useless emotion. He'd never been angry when the Packers lost a football game, or when Fay called dibs on being Captain America should their father ever pass, or even at the fact that he was named Calvin after the thirtieth president of the United States – the guy had some pretty good policies. To Cal, anger was only good for provoking fights and starting wars; two of the biggest things he stood against. So, no, Cal did not like to be angry. And he wasn't angry very often, but there was always one thing was sure to set him off. Cal hated it when people kept secrets. Secrets were made for surprise parties and gift giving, and that was about it.

Steve's sculptured features brought an edge of power to any room he was in. In fact, power was one of the main words Cal would use to describe him. Not the physical power as Bruce Banner or Thor – though he had that too, being a super soldier and all. But rather powerful eyes, powerful expressions, and most of all: powerful words. Steve Rogers was known for his powerful words. So it was hard to imagine the disappointment Cal felt when his father looked him dead in the eye with his powerful gaze, opened his mouth to defend himself after being accused of being afraid, and said, "I did everything I could for Howard."

Cal sighed, the air exiting from his lips in a low rumble. He wiped his face, uncrossing his arms and grabbing the doorway. "Dad." It was like nothing would grab his attention. "Dad!" Steve's eyes sparkled, like some part of him was waking up.

"Look, I don't know what the hell's going on with you." Cal picked up his father's shield from the ground, loving the way it felt in his hand. "The fact that I have to stand here and tell you to get your head out of wherever it's stuck is kind of ridiculous. I don't like that you're keeping something from me. And Fay wouldn't like it either. But if it's important to you, then you better figure it out and fast because its messing you up and we can't afford to lose our father." He crossed the room, slowly flexing his arms and nodding in approval. "I've never seen you like this, and I don't like it. So whatever the hell you've got going on with Tony –"he extended his arm, gracefully handing his father the righteous symbol, "- go figure it out."

When Fay woke up Tyler was still there. He was awake, clutching her hand softly in his as she blinked her swollen eyes open. The soft words he had been speaking to Tony ceased when he noticed she was awake, both men turning to look at her with that fake smile that was supposed to tell her everything would be okay – but it wasn't.

"Hey, beautiful," Tyler cooed to her as his thumb softly rubbed across her calloused hand, Tony supporting himself on the foot of her bed as he looked her over and winked.

"What are you still lying around for?" He asked with fake happiness. "We've got a job to do."

Fay was used to the one giving the false hope; filling her own words with light-heartedness and a false sense of security so that other people would feel safe. So that maybe, just maybe, they could fall asleep that night. She wasn't used to being on the other end of those words, or maybe she was – but she'd never been the one who might not pull through. She never needed those words and that false hope more in her entire life than she did at that very moment. So it wasn't with empty heart or trodden spirits when she managed a small, shaking smile, and replied, "Sir, yes sir."

Tony smiled down at her like an angel. Fay had been with Tyler for so long – grew up with him for so many years that Tony was more than like a second father to her. He had been there for her through everything, in his own way, even as he went through his own struggles and inner demons; he was always there to help her battle hers. She had asked him about it one time, why he seemed to like her so much, and was surprised but heartfelt to hear him laugh at her. It was that light, comforting type of laugh that reminded her of warm things and Christmas. 'You're not the one I have to worry about,' he told her, 'he better do right by you.'

It was because of all these years spent together, that Fay was well accustomed to each and every Stark boy's way of hiding things – their ticks, their facial movements – so it bothered her deeply to know that they both stood before her, smiling for her own comfort, when they both held more pain and anger than she had ever seen."You feeling alright?" Tony asked after a brief pause, gently nudging her leg and keeping that stupid smile glued on his face to hide the bitter frustration behind his eyes. Fay didn't want to push, but she did want to help. She was pretty good at staying out of things that were none of her business, but at this point any news had the very high potential of being her business.

"Yea, can we get you anything?" Tyler smoothed down her hair with his free hand, letting out a small sigh as he looked down at her with concern.

Fay struggled with what to do. Did she sit there and drown in their river of sugary-sweetness, or did she risk upsetting two people she loved for something that might not be her right to know? What could have possibly been this bad, anyway?

There was no saliva in her mouth as she licked her dry lips, letting out a hoarse cough that faintly tasted of blood. "You don't have to keep things from me," she croaked, watching both of their faces fall and Tyler dropped his gaze altogether. She held Tony's unwavering gaze, battling his stare with her own. "What happened?"

They shared a silent look. Fay was too out of it to try and decipher what cryptic meaning it had, but she knew they didn't want to tell her. She sighed softly, turning her head as best she could to look at Tyler's profile as he silently communicated with his father. He had a small scrape on his cheek but otherwise he seemed fine. Relief washed over her like a cold shower during a hot summer day. But still, there was no answer, so how fine could he really be? Tyler never held things back from her, not with the same regret in his eyes as he did now.

"Ty," she pleaded, and he turned to her, his dark brown eyes like a storm of wreck and ruin, twisting and morphing into something Fay could never recognize.

Then, Clint poked his head into the room and called out to Tony. "We finally found Cap and Cal, Steve's waiting for you at Building Nine." He nodded to Fay and then ducked out, but she was too busy panicking to notice.

"Finally found them?" She asked, her eyes widening at her breath hit her chest in a ragged burst. "What does that mean? They were missing?" All of the worst scenarios filled her head as Tyler quickly tried to console her.

"Fay, hey, everything's okay. They went out last night –"

"Last night?" she screeched, choking on her air as Tony came to her other side and grabbed her other hand in an act of comfort. "They were gone all night?"

"Kid, relax," Tony instructed calmly, "they're fine, they're back. Did you hear Clint? He wasn't worried at all. Your old man's even waiting to talk to me. They probably just needed to clear their heads for a bit." He managed a chuckle, but his voice sounded different and tight. "I'm sure you gave them quite a scare." Fay looked up at him, needing to see the comfort in his eyes, but they were glued on the door that Clint had come in and disappeared through.

"Alright, you take care of her now," Tony said distractingly to Tyler, already standing up, "I'm going to go see what your old man wants." He stooped one last time to plant a gentle kiss on Fay's cheek, squeezing her hand gently and walking trance-like through the door.

Tyler kept a firm hold on her hand as her breaths steadied and her vision turned normal again. "Hey, dad," he called, and Tony turned back briefly. They shared another silent look, and Fay was teleported back to when she woke up, faintly hearing whispered conversation and seeing the silent language written on their faces.

"It's dangerous out there," Tyler warned, "make sure Steve knows that, too."

Tony nodded, ducking out of the makeshift room without another noise. Tyler turned his attention back to Fay like it never happened, but it was still written across his face. He clasped his other hand around hers, interlocking the three of them like a gentle hug.

"You worry too much," he insisted gently, expecting her to smile but she didn't. Instead, a long, creasing frown wound itself down her face as she studied him, watching him become concerned with her silence.

"What?" He asked, slightly taken aback when her shaking hand lost itself from his grip and struggled on its way to his face. He quickly grabbed it and helped it on its journey, Fay managing a weak but content mouth twitch as her thumb brushed up and down slowly, painfully. Every nerve of her hand – of her body – felt like it was on fire.

"Ty, when are you going to learn not to hide things from me?" She asked, humor dancing within the concern in her eyes, old memories of happier times coming to light in her mind. He sighed and closed his eyes for a count of five, reopening them to see that she hadn't moved or wavered.

"I'm just see-through to you, aren't I?" He asked in a whisper, helping her take her hand away from his face so that he could hold it again. She managed a small, broken chuckle and looked at him with a thousand sunny days.

"Aren't I to you?" Her words were whispered back, Tyler having to lean forward slightly to understand them completely. And then, he was already there, so close, he closed the gap between them and sealed his love for her with a gentle kiss. Twelve days of not seeing her had felt like a year, and it stung in her heart just as much as she kissed him back, her eyes remaining closed as he pulled away and kissed her forehead.

"Harley's dead."

The walk to Building Nine was a long one. It felt longer to Tony as he tripped over rubble and debris, his mind only focusing on one thing: his hatred for Steve Rogers. The minutes ticked by and the towering building, half crumbled from the events of the invasion, loomed overhead closer and closer. A few minutes later and Tony could make out the vibrant red, white and blue uniform of Captain America, dirtied and torn from hard work and sweat. He stopped ten feet away from the man who used to be his friend.

"A little ironic," he said, "you call me down to talk at the last building on this side of the perimeter. No one around to see or hear what happens – sound familiar?"

Steve looked at him, holding that stupid shield in front of him like it would stop Tony. Like it could. Steve's eyes watched Tony nervously, flickering over his body and narrowing at his lack of armor. Tony growled.

"You're a coward, you know that?" He spat, thick lines from stress and days filled with horror contorted his face into a seemingly permanent scowl, directed entirely at the man standing in front of him, shield and fist raised and ready for anything. "I'm not going to fight you, Rogers. Put the shield down."

"I called you here so we could talk," Steve corrected defensively and Tony rose his chin.

"Then put the shield down and let's talk." His hand gently trailed over the broken brick wall next to them, his head snapping back up to glare at Steve with cold savagery. "And you better talk, Steve – before it's too late."

"Tony," Steve hesitated, his arms lowering his shield like a robot. "I didn't think it was the right time to tell anyone." Tony let out a long, howling, cruel laugh.

"You did think it was the right time?" He spat, the wind picking up like his voice, blowing his hair in different directions. Steve nodded his head, stuck in the mind trap that it had been what he really believed. That he wasn't just a coward.

"I did something that a lot of people might not agree with." Tony let out another bark of laughter, but no humor was shown on his face. Steve sighed and finished lowering his arms. "Tony, we need to stick together through this. We can't afford to be at each other's throats."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Rogers." Tony looked back at the direction of the camp, but didn't dare turn his back to the other man. Ready for anything, right? "You know there's absolutely no one back there who would agree with what you did, that's the only reason why you don't tell them." He turned back, his eyes darker than his past and his tired body looking so much older, but at that moment he couldn't have felt younger.

"I went to Asia, that next day. I even brought Tyler and Harley with me. I thought that would be easier for you." Steve looked down at the sound of Tony's icy words, the red on his uniform so much more than blood.

"They know?" He asked quietly, his hand flexing around his shield. Tony scoffed.

"Harley's dead, not that it matters to you. Of course Tyler knows – Howard was his brother you asshole." Steve remained quiet, his mind racing. Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head softly, harshly. "Well, I've been doing some thinking of my own, while we were in Asia. And you know what? The only thing I could conclude was that you're a goddamn coward. You're a fraud and you don't want people to know that."

"I'm sorry about Harley, Tony. I did what I thought I had too –"

"I swear to God if you ever say that to me again," Tony easily cut off Steve's quiet voice, an icy suggestion lying under his vicious bite of words. His jaw was clenched hard, but it was nothing compared to the weight on his shoulders. "You're lying to your kids. Steve, this isn't you. And I know this isn't you. The invasion, it's been hard on all of us. But this wasn't just some sip up you made. This wasn't an 'oopsie' or some simple mistake that you can cover up for the greater good. My son was the greater good. I know you hoped I wouldn't come back from Asia. That I wouldn't tell Tyler or Harley , or even that they would have died too – who knows what the hell goes through your mind at this point."

"Tony, you know I don't wish that."

"Do I? Why is Tyler so different from Howard? Because he's dating your daughter?" They both went quiet, Tony angrily staring at Steve and Steve staring at the broken ground beneath their feet.

"Howard liked Cal, did you know that? Had himself a little crush." Steve looked up at that – right into the hollow pits where Tony's eyes were supposed to be. He shook his head, slowly, shortly.

"No. I didn't know." Tony nodded his head.

"There's a lot of things you didn't know, Steve. Kind of funny, how a life only matters when it's gone."

"I did what I thought was right." Tony yelled at that, throwing a chunk of crumbling brick at the ground to suppress his anger. He looked up in calm rage, and Steve understood what was about to happen. He swallowed thickly.

"If you were in that same situation again, would you still do it?" Steve stared at the edge of his shield, the metal unbent and unbroken but the paint chipped and worn so far away that it barely resembled anything anymore, much less hope. He looked up to Tony's eyes – hopeless – and nodded his head.

"Yes."

Armor wound around Tony's body like a hug as he threw himself at Steve with fury and fire. Steve rose his shield but Tony flung it out of his grasp before he could attack or defend, watching as it fell to the ground with a resonating clang. Then Captain America was on the ground and Iron Man was above him, repulsor raised at his head and mask open.

"Wrong answer." The mask closed and the repulsor fired up, Steve's eyes widening with a sad realization as he tried desperately to spare his life.

"I thought of Howard, when it was Fay on the ground." Pow! The blast was redirected so that it hit right next to his head, cement and jagged pieces of city cut his face and uniform as he looked up at his fate and stared it in its glowing eyes.

"I think of Howard every second of every day – you only have the guts to remember him when it's your own child there? And you chose to save her?" Tony was going to kill him right then and there. But his words were true; he saw Howard always. Standing just above Steve, looking down at him with calm disgust, turning his gaze to Tony behind the mask and shaking his head. 'He's not worth it.' Tony wanted to shake his head. He wanted to cry and scream because it was a damn good vision and he was seeing Howard like he was still alive. The wind blew his hair into his eyes, his hands resting gently in the pockets of his jeans as he just stood there and looked like himself. Like he was real. 'You're worth it,' Tony thought, a stray tear winding down his cheek in a sad attempt of sadness. But Howard still shook his head and let out a breathy laugh. 'If you want to do something for me, make him tell the truth. Fay will be family soon enough, she deserves to know.'

"She's my daughter," Steve's voice drove Tony's attention away from his dead son and when he looked back up, Howard was gone. Tony's breaths came in labored pants, his chest heaving underneath the cold metal, almost, but not quite, as cold as his heart. His forehead sweat.

"Howard was my son!" He shouted it, screaming it right into the face of his enemy. Steve's twisted perspective disgusted Tony. Fay was a great kid, but Howard was better. Just like every parent cherished their own child above all else; is that really how Steve justified it?

"Howard –"

Tony's metal hand came down and punched him square in the jaw, easily splitting the skin in his lip and chin. His nose appeared to become dented, his head smacking back into the pavement. "You don't have the right to say his name."

Steve continued to lie there, not fighting back because a little piece of himself begged for death. He was afraid. Of Tony, of the Changers…of admitting the truth. His eyes watered as his mouth opened, shaking in silent cries. "What do you want me to do?"

The mask of Tony's suit slowly disappeared, morphing away like pure fluid. His cold brown eyes looked into Steve's vibrant blue ones, his mouth twitching in an animalistic snarl. His voice sent shivers down Steve's spine, shaking him to the core.

"I want you to tell everyone why you killed my son."

It was out in the open. There was no more denying it anymore. Tony wouldn't flee to another country to give Steve the opportunity to try and suck it up and come to terms with what he had done. Tony was being gracious with his words, anyway. Killed was such a nice way of putting it. What Steve did was worse, much, much worse. Murdered or slaughtered would have suited it better, but even that didn't capture the true essence of what had occurred thirteen days ago.

Tony got up, leaving Steve to lie on the ground as his suit melted away and he adjusted the shirt under his jacket, spitting next to Steve's body. "You have twelve hours."