The Last Chronicle

by Miss Starfire

After years of struggling to build their lives together, Tony Stark and Pepper Potts have lost everything. But as all-out war looms, and the fate of the world hangs in the balance, Tony and Pepper are ready to take it all back. It has all come down to this. Story 8 of 8. The epic finale to The Last Chronicles Saga.

10. Chapter 9

Guest Review Responses

Toni: I had a strong feeling Pepper would do that. I wish you all the best in finding new employment :) – TONIIIIII! WHERE YA BEEN! :D Guess what? I found a job! Finally! I start next week! Thank you for still being here ^_^

Anon: Gah. This is so good. I really appreciate that you post long and well thoughtout chapters. I can't wait for the next update!'n – Anon is back too! Here's another long chapter… that will probably give nightmares to some readers… maybe… sorta... ;) I really appreciate your support :D Thank you so much!

A/N: Hello, my Faithful Readers! I finally got around to updating this fic, YAY! It is my hope to finish it in the next two months or so (but hopefully much sooner that that). I've spent some time organizing the outline for the next chapters, and it appears that there won't be more than 20. I am aiming for 18, but have left some leeway for 20 in case the main scenes take a little bit longer to describe. I don't want to drag it for too long (you've all been so incredibly patient and supportive as it is), but I also don't want to shortchange you by rushing to the end. You've invested as much time and effort as I have following this project since The Last Month. I am indebted to you to give you the best story I can write :)

That been said, here's the next chapter. FAIR WARNING TO EVERYONE: This is a worldwide threat story; one that has events that had been planned out, years ago, so there will be mention of devastation, famine, and other gruesome things. My main concern, however, is the continued or new mention of cities under attack. Some of these will resemble recent real life events and/or historical facts, but I, by no means, endorse violence of any kind, or any listed here. If your city/town/country/continent is attacked in this story, please don't take it personally. It's not. I don't wish harm to come down to anyone or anything, but as a fanfic related to an egomaniacal man attacking the globe, I must include certain situations and/or actions that are less than favorable for certain parts of the world. I can't stress this enough: I do NOT support any type of terrorist attack on anyone. Live and let live, ya'll!

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Chapter 9

"Hey, Red: are you sure you want to do this?"

Iceman gently elbowed the redhead while they waited for the rest of the team to put on their swimsuits. They were going to swim in the frigid waters of the North Sea to board the submarine that was hidden underwater; said ship would take them from the island to the European mainland.

"It's kinda already done, don't you think?" she deadpanned, her eyes almost blank and staring forward, her right palm against her neckline. Her fingers traced over her thick clothes to feel the chain of Tony's dog tags that she had taken with her when she had snuck out of their room, a couple of hours ago.

"Well, not really, no. And I don't mean going back, you know? That would be stupid. But, I mean… Like, maybe you should at least call him while you still can. Tell him that–"

"He knows," she interrupted him and spared him a glance to make sure her eyes told him to drop a subject that was painful for her. "He… he already knows."

Bobby opened his mouth to tell her that no man, especially one who truly loved his wife as much as Tony Stark obviously did, would ever become tired of hearing his beloved tell him that she loved him. Nevertheless, when he noticed the effort it had taken for her to say the last few words, he decided that there was nothing he could really do at the moment to change her mind. They had left three hours before scheduled time, anyway. No one at the base was even awake at this point.

"Well, what if, as your second-in-command, I told you I was doing this for your own good. What if I told you that I was just doing you a favor, and that I know what's best for you? What would you have to say then, Ms. Strategist?"

Pepper smiled, turned to face Bobby, and then placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I would say that it's very sweet of you, uncharacteristically noble of you, even," they both chuckled. "But that, if you really want to do was best for me, then you'll help me get this done as quickly as possible. That you know that what's good for me is to defeat Doom, get my son back, and return home with him and my husband so that we can all forget this shit ever happened and move on with our lives."

Iceman briefly narrowed his eyes at her, brought her closer to him by giving her a sideways hug with his left arm, and then sighed loudly in defeat.

"Damn," he scoffed. "That IS the better option for you now, isn't it?"

"For everyone," Pepper replied, returned the embrace with her right arm around his midsection, and then pulled away when the rest of the team joined in.

"Alright, everyone," Natasha Romanoff cracked the bones in her neck. "It's time to start."

xxxXXXxxx

He sat on the edge of her side of the bed. Silent. Still. His eyes aimed towards the floor. His mind replayed, repeatedly, the simple message she had left behind for him to find:

I'm sorry. I love you. More than I love myself – so I took part of you with me, for luck.

Pepper.

He fiercely rubbed his face with his hands, snarled loudly in frustration, and then shifted his head towards the right to stare at the nightstand. Her pinwheel necklace was still there, both mocking and talking to him, reminding him of the woman that used to wear it around her neck, rather often.

Until last night.

It was now clear to him why she had taken his dog tags with her – she had wanted to have a part of him, as she had called it, with her during her trek. Something she could hold on to and use, physically so, to remind her who she was fighting this fight for – who would be waiting for her in the end. She had just wanted to have something of his on her – something he treasured as much as she treasured him.

Tony laughed bitterly at the irony of the situation. If only she knew, if only she realized, that she actually took all of him with her.

She didn't say goodbye.

Was that not, however, what he had already intended to do, anyway? Was the use of the word goodbye not something he had been trying to avoid himself?

In the end, he had gotten his wish. Problem was: it had not been on his terms.

"Damn you, Pep," he shook his head, gulped, and then grabbed the necklace. He placed its chain between his fingers to let the pendant dangle; his eyes lost in the shiny reflection of the diamonds it was made of. With his free hand, he held the pendant, took it to his lips, placed a quick kiss on it, and then hung the piece of jewelry around his neck.

"I love you too, Pepper," he breathed, his right hand clutching onto the pendant. "And I'll find my way to you."

Knowing his presence was needed at the command center, Tony Stark stood up from the bed, washed up, put on clean clothes and shoes, and then headed out of the quarters, all the while his mindset shifting to one that would enable him to get his family, life, and sanity back in one piece.

Or so he dearly hoped.

xxxXXXxxx

The strange man was back again – the Metal Man. This time, however, he did not get too close by. He was not as scary looking as he had been at first; or maybe he was getting used to him hanging around the place – but there was still something about him that he did not like. Maybe, it was the way he appeared to glide on the floor – something no one else he knew, could do. Maybe, it was the fact that his entire body was covered in something weird, something similar to what the Nice Lady sometimes used on herself; even if, just as it was the case with the Nice Lady, he could see right through it with no issue at all. This only confused him even more: why would someone have stuff covering themselves, if anyone could see right through it?

Or at least, that was what he had believed to be the case, at first. Now, after a few months, he was realizing he was the only one who could see him.

The first time he had seen him, he had been too young to understand any of it. He had just known something was off – wrong, and that had made him very upset. He had cried and cried. Yelled and yelled. But neither the Nice Lady nor the Man with the Blue Eyes had seemed to notice the Metal Man's presence. The Metal Man had silently stared at him many times, mostly at night, when the Nice Lady and the Man with the Blue Eyes slept, and sometimes even when the Funny Man and the Serious Man were around. Yet, no one had made any mention of him – even when he had been standing right behind either of them. He never spoke to him. To Anyone. He just stared. And stared. And as more and more time went by, he was starting to believe that maybe his presence was not as bad as it had once been. He was just scary-looking. He had not tried to do anything to him… yet… or again.

There WAS that one time he stuck something in his skin that made him feel sick. He had not meant to bother the Nice Lady and the Man with the Blue Eyes with how bad he had felt – itchy parts inside his body, the feeling of his nose not working properly, something trickling down from it – but he had no way of telling if the actions of the Metal Man – poking his skin with a pointy thing – had actually hurt him directly.

He just did not understand.

In fact, there were a lot of things he did not yet understand – and others he was now beginning to make sense of. For example, he did not understand why the Man with the Blue Eyes (the one who he now understood, thanks to his aura, was half of him) had disappeared for a while. He had missed him a lot, and so had the Nice Lady (who he also knew was the other half of him). But in the end, the Man with the Blue Eyes, his Dada, had come back. He also did not understand why the Nice Lady, his Mama, seemed to be gone for a lot of the time, especially when it was clear to him that she was better suited to understanding what he needed than his Dada did. Then again, he had to give his Dada some credit – he was getting better at taking care of him. He was really trying.

Just as he was trying right now.

"What's going on, James? What are you looking at?" he heard his Dada say. He wanted to respond, to make a noise, anything to bring the Man with the Blue Eyes' attention to the Metal Man standing by the door, but all he could do was watch. A few seconds later, the Man with the Blue Eyes did look back, but he knew he would not see what he was seeing as clear as day. No one ever did. Just him.

"Hey, Howie, over here. It's chow time."

He suddenly felt scared when the Metal Man began walking towards his Daddy. The Metal Man's right arm was raised, his hand glowing, but before he could get too close to them, the Metal Man suddenly stopped. He lowered his arm, took a step back, and then disappeared as quickly as he appeared every time.

With the Metal Man gone, he could now concentrate on the food he was being offered.

"Then again," the Man with the Blue Eyes shook his head. "You're mine and Pep's kid. You are odd by default. Aren't you, Howie?"

Spitting bubbles seemed like a good enough of a response.

xxxXXXxxx

The first checkpoint for Team A was located in Calais, France; the travel time to this site, with a little bit of luck, amounted to 14 hours from their departure from Muir Island. They had been in the submarine for only four hours, but Pepper was already starting to miss everyone and everything she had left behind, so very much. She knew that as time went by, and the closer they got to Latveria, that her feelings would eventually be pushed to the back of her mind to concentrate on the task at hand. Yet, she so far had been unable to rid herself of this feeling of emptiness that had befallen her when she had kissed her slumbering inventor goodbye.

With a quick glance to her surroundings, she made sure that no one was watching her intently. Her eyes then turned to her travel backpack. Her hand dug inside of it, and from it she took out a small velvet pouch. She looked around one more time for good measure, opened and flipped upside down the pouch in her hands, and from it fell out a small piece of fabric: one of Gene Khan's handkerchiefs.

Moments later, when she had finally stopped trembling, she slowly pulled away from him. He immediately took out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She accepted it with a thankful nod and made use of it. Once she gave it a good look and recognized the cloth, she smiled.

"I'm glad that you liked my Christmas present."

"They're useful," he shrugged.

Pepper gave him a small smile and another nod as she understood what his nonchalant response truly was; Gene Khan's way of saying: Thank you. I love it!

"And it'll be more useful to you once it's clean again. I'll wash it and I'll send it back."

"No," he shook his head. "You can keep it."

"Don't want my germs?" she chuckled.

"Don't want you to go through the trouble of sending it back to China. It's just a cloth. And I still have the other five it came with."

Pepper stared at the handkerchief she had gotten engraved with his name, and what she had been told was the Chinese symbol for gratitude, and smiled.

She never actually gave it back to him. And he never asked for it either. So she had kept it as a memento of their friendship.

She unfolded the handkerchief to make sure it still contained the other keepsakes she had brought with her: a bullet from her father's longtime personal gun, James Stark's first pacifier, one of the graduation honor cords Rhodey had advocated for her to get from high school, and a Viva Las Vegas keychain that Happy had given her for her 21st birthday. Memories all of the people closest to her heart; tokens all of the people she was fighting this war for.

And Tony, she pressed her palm against the dog tags under her clothes once more. For Tony.

She was not proud of what she had done to her boy genius this morning – using her aura powers to keep him from waking up when she left earlier than planned had been rather cruel, if she said so herself. But she had known, most especially after saying goodbye to her parents and friends, that she could not handle another teary farewell. Goodbyes always seemed so final. So absolute. So firmly planted around the belief of never coming back to those you loved and had left behind.

Besides, goodbye was the last word she had wanted to utter to him.

She heard the submarine creak loudly and she flinched, memories of her last stay inside one of these submerged pressurized metal containers returning to her. Her feelings of dread and fear when being inside a submarine were surely gone, but she could not help the physical reactions the memories sparked in her. Gene had helped her mentally overcome her ordeal when he had been training her to heal and let go of what was keeping her from moving on with her life. Whitney had, albeit rather unexpectedly in the VTR, reinforced the fact that she was no longer petrified or even scared by the idea of a submarine and what it entailed.

However, on the same token, she understood that muscle memory was difficult to control – especially when one's body was the prime essence of a virus that thrived in remembering agents of potential hazard. Her body had learned how to correctly react to and attack anything and everything that ever threatened her existence. It was going to be decades before her muscles did not instinctively spasm when reminded of situations that had once almost taken her life. It was just how this virus worked – it learned and adapted to outside stimuli. It would take her years, but she would learn to live with it; to make her peace with it and what she was. She would learn to live with the fact that her body had a mind of its own, quite literally, and that there was nothing she could do to make it stop.

If her son was alive – if her little bundle of joy still lived – she could only hope that his version of Extremis did not affect him in the same way it did her. She could only pray that his Extremis did not make him as prone to long-term trauma in his young age. She could only wish that the little boy's life had not been essentially condemned simply by being her and Tony's son.

My Jimmy, Pepper sniffled, her hand on the pacifier. Mommy's coming. Mommy's gonna get you back.

xxxXXXxxx

He was once again reduced to almost nothing but pain and rage.

Time after time - eternity after eternity, it seemed – the deception, the illusion, was pulled over his eyes and his mind altered enough to believe it was real: his beloved Valeria holding him in her arms, whispering his name in a voice filled with compassion, showing him the love that he received from no other… and that he would accept from no other.

And each time, just as he was beginning to believe that this was real, that she had really returned to him and that they could be happy together, she was torn away from him, screaming his name, while an unseen force held him back. He was prevented, over and over, from saving her; forced to watch her burn, shrieking in agony, as the explosion caused by his own error destroyed his love from head to toe. And as he was forced to watch this again and again, he could hear the wretched monstrosity that continued to inflict this fate upon him, chuckling behind it all.

After each illusion faded, Victor von Doom was left gasping, feeling exhausted and out of breath – even though he was being held in a state where breathing was not necessary. He knew the creature was draining him. He was being slowly worn away, like a mountain range being eroded to flat plains over incalculable expanses of time by wind and rain. Thanks to the actions of Iron Man, his body had been converted into light and swallowed by the alien fiend, only to be turned back, somewhat, to his mortal form while in its festering innards. He could feel that something essential had been lessened in him since then; that he was… incomplete, somehow.

While in these periods of respite that occurred while the demon rested and prepared the next round of his torture and erosion, Doom more or less had free range of movement within its body. Yogthulu's inner cavities ranged from constricting, claustrophobic tombs, to massive, expansive voids that normal physics decreed were far too large to fit inside a hollowed-out planet, let alone a being that could fit inside the laboratory of Doom's castle. The abomination's belly, however, did not follow normal physics, but rather that of a quantum nightmare.

Instinctively, Victor von Doom knew that he was dying. He also knew that it meant nothing to anyone back home. Nobody living on Earth cared about him, he knew. Sure, his people found him to be an excellent ruler who kept their economy strong and their crime-rate lower than any other nation in the world. However, they also lived in fear of him, because he achieved these things on behalf of his people by ruling with an iron fist and punishing those who violated his laws with torture and death. As such, although he had brought them undeniable greatness and respect in the eyes of the rest of the world, the Latverians would not miss him when he was gone. And he was fine with that. Victor von Doom was not a man of greatness because he felt that he inherently deserved it, but because he earned it; because he forged his own destiny by being the smartest person to ever live, and could therefore make what he wanted happen where no one else could.

Because of this, Doom knew that if things continued on this way much longer, he would perish here, in the insane bowels of this atrocity of nature, his death unnoticed and unlamented.

However, in this moment of lucidity between periods of torture, Doom was without distraction long enough to become aware of something at last. His armor was still in place around his body, and its power reserves were still at full capacity. In this realm, inside Yogthulu itself, energy was not dissipating in the usual fashion. His body was being phased away, little by little, but the suit containing it was still intact. And the mad doctor realized that this might be his one chance.

Knowing that Yogthulu was currently not giving him its full focus, and that the eldritch creature still emitted its own form of energy that abided by its own set of rules, Doom swiftly programmed his armor to begin scanning the monster to identify that energy, determine its frequency and magnitude… and prepare to use every ounce of power still remaining for a final strike from within.

He would not die here like a helpless rabbit, trapped at the bottom of a pit, left to the mercy of a prowling fox. He would throw everything he had right into the face of Fate Itself and consequences be damned. He was Doctor Doom, and he would decide his own fate. Yogthulu would learn that lesson the hard way, soon enough.

xxxXXXxxx

Everyone became still and silent the moment he set foot inside the main command center – even the multiple screens before him appeared to freeze on the spot, as ridiculous as the thought appeared to be. He did not have to look around the room to know that all eyes were on him, or that everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the second he would just flip out. He could feel their gazes burning his skin. He could sense the tension in the air. He could tell that everyone already knew what Pepper had done.

He pressed his right palm on a scanner on the main switchboard, grabbed the wireless headset that was held behind the glass case he had just unlocked, and then pushed the earpiece inside his right ear, all while remaining standing tall. He looked up to stare at the screens – the same ones that had once showed him landmarks being destroyed – and he sighed deeply through his nose.

"Widow's team is in route," he said with a steady tone of voice no one believed he would have, given the situation at hand. "We proceed as planned."

Some people opened their mouths. Some others just cleared their throats. But not one person said anything back.

No one.

Not even a displeased-looking Gene Khan dared to argue with a ready-to-fight Tony Fucking Stark.

xxxXXXxxx

Boom was back.

And yet again, no one could tell that he was around.

It was driving him crazy, really, that only he could see Boom leisurely strolling around the place. That only he could hear Boom. Long gone was his nickname of The Metal Man from his mind, a little while ago replaced with the name: Boom. It was what the man had called himself – or something close to that. It was hard to understand him and his words. It was probably due to the fact that he appeared to have something wrong with him. His aura looked sicker and paler every time he came back.

Then again, the Man with the Blue Eyes' aura was also off. And now the Nice Lady's aura was starting to look weird to him too. That scared him. Very much. He liked them both. They were both very nice to him. He was part of both, he knew; he was one half of each of them together, and he also knew that this was somehow very important. He did not want anything bad to happen to them.

Boom suddenly disappeared, so his eyes returned to the man sitting in front of him. The man that had brought back his Mama in his arms. The man that appeared to have something special surrounding him; something to do with the shiny things on his fingers.

He almost jumped in his seat when a noise behind him startled him. His Dada suddenly appeared, followed by a bunch of other men, all coming from the Nice Lady's room. From his vantage point, he could not see any of them, but he could feel them. He could sense the distinct aura of each individual behind him, all six of them. He could tell they were starting to move. And he could also sense that the Nice Lady was very hurt, but asleep.

In the past, when his Mama had been ill or very tired, he had worried so much about her. But now, after spending such a long time around his parents, he knew that his Mama was going to be OK. She had the same things in her that he had – the things that he somehow knew would make him feel better, no matter what. He was not sure what they were, but it did not matter to him. All he cared about was that they had previously helped him get better when he had been feeling sick – and they would do the same for his Mama, too.

He remained quiet as his Dada and the Glowing Man spoke. He really wished he could understand the sounds they were making. His father spoke a lot to him, more than his Mama did, but only two of the sounds currently made did he recognize: Happy and Pepper. He knew Happy was the name of that big man that sometimes came over to play with him. And Pepper was what his Dada called his Mama.

Where they talking about his Mama? Why was his Dada's aura so sad-looking? Was he worried about his mother? Did he not know she was going to be fine?

He wanted to tell him, somehow, not to worry. But before he even got the chance to call attention to himself, he remembered that Boom was still there – and he realized that the Metal Man had begun walking around yet again.

He watched him as he made his way towards the Glowing Man, which happened to be at the exact same time his aura changed from angry to anxious. For this reason, and for an instant, he wondered if the Glowing Man could see Boom. Yet, he soon came to the conclusion that he could not when the Glowing Man's eyes were everywhere but on Boom. He pulled his bottle from his mouth, prepared to let the other two men know Boom was near in whatever way he could, but the Metal Man dissipated before he could do so.

Oh, well. He would have to try another day. Boom was always around, anyway.

"So," Gene began. "You're not going to tell Pepper you're going to hang around with your ex-fiancée?"

There it was again. His Mama's name. Maybe if he said her name and smiled, they would know she was going to be alright.

The two men continued saying more things he did not understand, so he opted to tune them out. He was getting sleepy, anyway – it was near nappy time. If he was lucky enough, his Dada would maybe lay him next to his Mama. This way, he would make sure she healed faster by cleaning her aura up.

xxxXXXxxx

"Red! Red, come on! Wake up!"

Wake up? The ginger groaned. I'm asleep?

She blinked rapidly, her eyes quickly adjusting to the low light around her, but it took her a moment to remember where she was. She then sat up on the cot she had been lying on to keep the chilled, metal floor of the submarine from touching her skin, rubbed her face with her hands, and was then roughly pulled up to her feet by her right arm.

"We need to go, Pepper," Bobby said as he picked up her backpack and threw it at her. "We need to go NOW!"

"What? Why?" she slung her backpack over her shoulders. "What's going on? Are we in Calais already?"

"Not exactly," Bobby shook his head, grabbed the redhead's left hand in his, and began leading her to who knew where. "We're about a mile from shore, but the sub's not gonna get us there."

"Huh?" she spooked away some of her drowsiness with a light shake of her head. She had sworn that she had only closed her eyes for a second, but it appeared as if she had done much more than. "I don't understand."

"Doom just started a second round of attacks. We can't risk taking the sub to the surface. But we do need to get out of it, right now."

"What?" Pepper's face paled when she felt the blood rush to her feet at hearing the news. "Doom is attacking… again?"

"Yeah," the anger and disapproval in Iceman's voice in response to the inevitable and lethal effects of this sudden development was evident. They knew that they had accounted for mission delays and possible adjustments of their routes related to issues of limited supplies, team member injuries, or even the unfortunate luck of facing Doombots along the way. What they had not accounted for, however, what had not even crossed their minds as a possibility, was for Doom to flat out bomb the world one more time.

"I guess the bastard just couldn't wait to kill more people again," Bobby replied as he urged Pepper to pick up her pace with a tug of her hand.

"But, why? Why did he attack again? Does he know we're on our way? Is he trying to stop us?"

"I don't know. I-I don't think so. I," he shook his head. "Widow said that another army tried to walk up to Latveria to stop him. We think… we think he's sending a message for everyone else. Or he's trying to thin out the heard once more. Or maybe both. I don't fucking know. He… he's just… mad!"

Pepper briefly closed her eyes, silently prayed that no one else she knew and loved died during this second round of bombings, and then stopped suddenly when she felt herself hit Bobby's back. She opened her eyes, realized that Widow, Maya and Nightcrawler were now joining them, and then frowned when she saw Natasha beginning to climb the ladder to the top of the submarine.

"What are we doing?" Pepper asked. She hated being left in the dark.

"We're getting out of here," Maya replied, in a tone that showed she was not thrilled with the situation either, yet she still shadowed Natasha's steps, shortly after adjusting the straps of her backpack. "The sub needs to turn back."

Pepper stared down at herself and the normal clothes she wore, looked up to eye her teammates' similar wardrobe, and then huffed a disgruntled sigh while she allowed Bobby to set her on the path to be the third one in line to climb up the ladder.

"I'm right behind you, Red," Iceman said before he looked behind himself to make sure Kurt was joining their small parade towards the escape latch of the submarine. "But don't go too far, OK?"

Oh, brother, the ginger thought with disdain, not at all looking forward to swimming in the freezing waters of the North Sea, in nothing but regular attire.

xxxXXXxxx

He rarely saw his Dada being this upset – or as utterly mad as he now was, but it was never a pretty sight to see. It actually kind of scared him a little when it did happen, but it was not as bad as when his Mama got mad. When his father got angry, his aura spiked, changed into many different colors, and it spread all over the place. When his mother got angry, though, she was almost a completely different person altogether. It was as if the Nice Lady was replaced by someone else – someone he did not know. In essence, he knew it was still his Mama and that she would not hurt him. Aura-wise, however, she turned cold, hollow and dark.

In other words: her aura looked like Boom's on a good day.

"Tony, don't–"

"Are you kidding me?" the inventor spat and interrupted the ginger's plea. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Tony," Pepper said softly but firmly. "Please, watch your language."

"But, Pepper!" he crushed the patch in his hand. "Why the hell does this asshole think it's even appropriate to send ANYTHING to my son?"

"Tony, I know you're upset but…"

"NO!" he said and began crumpling the costume back in the box.

"How dare he? HOW THE HELL DARE HE? I'm going to go to the Helicarrier and shove this box up his motherfucking ass!"

"TONY!"

"ONY!"

He did not immediately realize the sound had come out of him. But once it did, he licked his lips, raised his finger towards his Dada, and said the word one more time; just in case they had not known the first time that it was he who had said it.

"Ony."

Immediately after saying the word again, both his Mama and Dada's auras calmed down.

"Honey, did you say something?"

He could not help to smile back at his more-than-pleased Mama. She was so happy. He could see it all over her. And so was his father, even if he had not moved from where he stood.

"Tony."

His father did not move despite his mother's call, so he shifted his eyes to stare at him. Maybe, if he smiled and stared long and hard enough, Ony would realize that the Nice Lady was calling his name. When a long moment passed and nothing changed, he realized that he was not going to get anything else out of saying the name again for now. In turn, he returned his attention to his empty bowl. He was still hungry, after all. He wanted more food.

"Are you still hungry, baby?" Pepper asked and lifted her son from the high-chair. "Do you want some more food?"

Food. Another word he recognized and liked.

Before he knew it, he was near his parents again. However, he was nowhere near being fed once more. His belly ached. It even rumbled a little. He was still very hungry. But he also recognized that his Dada was a little bit upset again. Not as much as he had been before – not nearly close to it, actually – but still a tad off. Maybe it was not the best time to ask for food again… or maybe it was about time he did something for himself.

He eyed the unopened jar of food near him on the counter and smacked his lips in anticipation. He recognized the color and smell of it: it was his favorite one. He did not see the other colorful items that his Dada used to get it out of the tiny bottle, but he was too hungry to worry about where they were and if he would even need them at all.

He stared at the distracted-looking Happy across the room, then at his equally-distracted parents, and he almost scrunched his nose with a pout. When he realized they were all too busy to help him, he reached over to grab the jar, twisted the top of it like he had seen his parents do before, and it easily came off.

He smiled wide at his accomplishment as he pulled the jar to his face.

"Tony… look…"

If he kept at it, and if he could somehow reach the place where the food was kept, he would be feeding himself in no time. He would never have to bug his parents about it again. He would just grab what he wanted, when he wanted it.

"Jimmy."

He looked up to stare at his Mama when he heard his name being called. For a second, he thought she was mad at him for what he had done. Yet, a quick view of her aura told him otherwise. She was not mad at him, but she was not too happy, either. Actually, she was confused – and a little bit scared, too. In fact, now that he stared at his father, his aura showed the same feelings to be in him. Had he done something wrong?

He did not get an opportunity to dwell on it for long, either, as Happy was suddenly lifting him in the air, a wide smile on his face. The Funny Man seemed thrilled at what he had done, so maybe it was not all that bad.

"It means," Happy began, "That we get to dress him as the Hulk!"

xxxXXXxxx

Tony Stark was the only person currently inhabiting the cafeteria – not even the cooks were up this early, and they were known for having breakfast ready for everyone by 5:30 AM. For Tony, however, breakfast today consisted of a steaming cup of coffee, sitting on the table with him (and still filled to the brim), and a butter croissant that had not even been touched, other than to be moved from the food-to-go pantry area of the cafeteria to a paper plate.

His fingers absentmindedly played with the pinwheel necklace in his hands. His eyes, almost unblinking, showed how far away his mind was from this place – from this reality. Bad news upon even more bad news made it easy for anyone to just want to check out from the real world, even if just for a few minutes out of the day, no matter how much their full attention was needed around here; no matter how much his leadership and orders were the only two things holding together this crumbling operation.

The second round of missile strikes around the globe had been a hard hit to his careful planning; to his methodical preparation efforts. Not twenty-four hours after Pepper's team had left the island, their intel had been drastically shot to fuck by Doom's unexpected second attack. Proper and timely communication was already difficult to execute after just one single bout of global destruction tactics on the tyrant's behalf. After a second, or perhaps even a third… there just was no telling what it would do for their plans.

Well, the genius thought bitterly with a frown. They're ruined. That's for sure.

His natural instinct as a hero, and as a strategist, yelled at him not to continue wasting any more precious time; to simply adjust his plans accordingly already. It told him that not all was lost in this war – that a second attack was merely a minor setback in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps, it could even be a blessing in disguise, seeing as the more Doctor Doom used up his resources, the fewer he would have available once they kicked down his door. His mind told him that there was still a way to win this – to stop, if not revert, the damage that had already been done. But his heart, which he had listened to more often than his mind nowadays, told him otherwise.

It told him the complete opposite, in fact.

"That's a beautiful necklace you've got there, Tony."

He grimaced even further at hearing her voice. She was definitely the last person he had wanted to see so early in the morning or at all, even if he knew there was very little chance of avoiding her today, seeing as her team was set to leave today, in a couple of hours or so. It was not just that he could not bring himself to forgive her for everything she had done thus far – it was also the fact that acknowledging Team B's imminent departure reminded him of the unknown whereabouts of Team A.

He quickly threw the necklace around his neck, hid its pendant behind his shirt, and then looked up to lock eyes with her soft yet knowing ones.

"Is it Pepper's?"

Tony opened his mouth to provide a snarky retort, but instead opted to simply looking away from her and towards the door he wanted to bolt towards, right about now. He heard her sigh in obvious disappointment of his dismissive actions, and then had to fight the urge to flip the table against her side when she sat on the other end of it.

"I'm sure she's fine. I'm sure they all are."

Tony took an angry bite from his croissant, even if he did not feel the least bit hungry at the moment, if only to just show her without words that he was not keen on having a conversation with her. The silent warning, however, appeared to fall on deaf ears when she made herself even more comfortable where she sat and proceeded to speak.

"Iceman takes his job very seriously. He won't let anything bad happen to her. He'd rather kill the rest of his team than failing at his mission, remember?"

Tony brushed his tongue against his teeth to remove the particles of half-chewed bread from them before he washed them down with a large sip of his caffeinated drink. He then eyed the door once more, spared the woman before him a glance, and then cleared his throat before finally speaking to her.

"The fuck you want?"

"Are you ever not gonna greet me with insults?"

"Probably not," he deadpanned with a glare.

"We used to be friends, you know?"

"Used to, being the keywords."

"We dated, too."

"We all make mistakes."

"Dating you wasn't a mistake, Tony."

"Maybe not to you."

"And sending Pepper's team first is also not a mistake. Stop berating yourself over it. You made the right choice by not altering the plans they're already familiar with. Her team can handle a few bombs. We'll hear from them soon, you'll see."

Tony narrowed his eyes at her, took another large bite of the croissant, and then chewed on it as he pointed an accusing finger towards the blonde.

"You being here is a mistake," he said between sloppy bites. "Pepper should've never asked Gene to get you out of The Void. You deserved to rot in there."

His words were meant to hurt her – to leave her speechless and full of hatred towards him. His harsh response had been intended to force her to leave him alone with his more-than-depressing thoughts. Or at the very least to finally get it through her head that he had no intention of becoming friends with her, ever again, in his entire life. Nonetheless, Whitney's eyes did not show a hint of pain, anger, or even regret for her presence here with him. Instead, and to the man's surprise, a small smile appeared on her lips.

"Speaking with your mouth full is such a Pepper thing to do," she chuckled, unable to keep to herself her amusement at witnessing how much of the redhead's antics had rubbed off on the inventor over the years.

"What?" Tony swallowed down the bite he still had in his mouth, sipped on his coffee one more time, and then leaned forward and closer to her. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing," she shook her head and looked away.

Tony glared at her for another short instant before he sighed loudly, finished eating his croissant, chugged down the rest of the coffee in his hand, and then pulled away from her. He rested his back and extended arms on the back of the booth they were both sitting in, looked towards the still empty kitchen, and then sighed one more time. For her part, Whitney Stane alternated between staring at Tony's pensive form and at her wristwatch. She had gotten up early today to get ready for the traveling they would begin shortly; finding Tony in the cafeteria had not been part of her morning plan. However, since nearly four days had passed since they had last heard from Team A, she knew that the blue-eyed boy needed some comfort – whether he admitted to it or not.

Silence was the only sound between them until rushed steps coming from the entrance of the cafeteria made them both snap their heads towards it. In a matter of seconds, Arthur Parks and Rhodey stood before them – and neither of them looked to be bringing in good news.

"We might need to leave a little earlier than expected," Rhodey said after sparing the blonde a quick, questioning look, undoubtedly wondering what she was doing in the presence of Tony Stark. He had warned her not to bother his family, not long ago, but it appeared to him as if the woman needed a second reminder of this fact.

"How earlier?" she asked.

"Now," Arthur replied as he caught his breath with loud gasps. "I just got back from the Paris checkpoint… or tried to…"

"Tried to?" Tony furrowed his brow. "What do you mean: tried to?"

"I couldn't get to it," Arthur's eyes lowered to the ground, as if the sudden turn of events were his fault.

"Why?" Tony's eyes shifted back and forth from staring at the Living Laser and at Agent Rhodes. "Why couldn't you do it? The power out?"

"No," Rhodey replied when it was clear to him that Arthur was not ready to relay the news.

"Then, what?" Whitney asked, her impatient tone of voice only reflecting Tony's current feelings and thoughts.

"Was the safe house compromised?" Tony asked, hoping against hope that this was the only issue at hand. There were other checkpoints that Team A could use to transmit their current status to the island once they got to them – their next one being in the city of Bern, Switzerland. Missing one safe house was not, no pun intended, the end of the world for them. At least not yet.

Unfortunately for Tony, this setback entailed much more than that.

"No," Arthur swallowed hard as he finally lifted his head to stare at Tony in the eye. "There was… there-there was no safe house left."

"W-What?" Tony slid out from the booth. "What do you… what?"

"Was it attacked?" Whitney stood up in her seat, her bent right knee holding her up.

Rhodey and Arthur exchanged wary looks before they both stared at Tony and then at the floor.

"Rhodey!" Tony grabbed his friend by his arms. "Tell me what happened! What happened to the safe house?"

"Same thing that happened to the city…" Rhodey began, "To everything within a thirty-mile radius of it. It… it's all… the city… Paris… Tony… Paris is gone."

xxxXXXxxx

He opened his eyes when he once again felt Boom's presence in his room. As it had been the case every other time, the Metal Man was standing by his crib, staring at him with those weird-colored eyes of his. He always did that to him, and he sometimes spoke to him, too. Yet, this particular time, he could tell something was different about Boom: he was beyond mad.

Instinctively, he knew that being alone in the presence of an angry man that no one else could see or hear should have concerned him, but he was no ordinary child. He had confirmed this many times now, ever since he had become more aware of himself and his surroundings; most especially, when he had been around other tiny people like him. These other tiny people had all acted differently than him. They did not seem to know how to read people's auras, and they did not seem to have the ability to see right through solid objects, or of other things that were in the way of what he wanted to see. He could also see right through people, tiny or big, and even though he had no idea what exactly he was looking at inside of them, he now understood that what he could do was not something anyone else could do.

Well, almost everyone, if he did not count his Mama. She had some of it, too. Not as much as he, as far as he could tell, but enough to make her special, too.

He scrunched his nose when he saw that Boom was leaving quicker than usual, and he would have not thought much of it had the Metal Man not just begun walking towards his Dada. He did not need to be out of his crib or room to see everything unfolding before him – his eyes allowed him to see anything and everything he wanted to see, no matter how far away it was. Boom had never hurt his Dada or Mama before, but none of those times had the Metal Man been this angry.

Maybe Boom was tired of people not paying attention to him? Maybe he was tired of waiting to see if someone other than him would know he was there? What if he tried to do something scary or bad to his Dada? What if his Dada did something that made Boom even madder than he already was?

No. He had to do something – anything, to warn his Dada about Boom. Maybe, if Boom did not feel as alone as he knew he felt, or as sick as he could also see he was, he would be happy again. Happy was a good thing to be, he had learned in his very few months of life. Happiness made people smile, hug each other, and smash their faces against other people's faces. He did not quite get that last part, but he had learned to associate the aura of happiness in his parents with their faces smashing each other. Sometimes, in their happiness, they even smashed their mouths against his chubby cheeks, too. It felt good.

Recalling his newfound ability, he grabbed onto the bars of his crib as hard as he could until he was able to push himself up using the dangling things attached to the bottom of his body, like he had seen all the big people do. They were still kinda wobbly, but he could feel they were definitely stronger than the last time he had used them. Perhaps if he kept doing this more often, sooner rather than later he would be able to follow his Dada all over the place. This was the main reason why he had begun finding out what else he could do, anyway: to make his Dada smile.

He struggled with the metal latch for a moment, his brow showing his deep concentration. His parents made it look so easy to move over the thing to open the crib, but for the life of him he could not figure it out fast enough to free himself. Boom was even closer to his father now, and he was sure that his father had no idea who was near him. He felt tiny droplets of water coming from his eyes, just as it happened to him whenever he was desperate to do something he could not do right away.

Another minute passed of him trying to remove the latch, but nothing seemed to work. He was pushing and pulling, moving it from side to side, and even tried to squeeze it away. He knew it was not this hard, and he also knew that, if he had more time, he could do it. However, he could also feel his legs getting tired. If he did not do it soon, he would not be able to do it at all.

In a last moment of desperation, and as he was about to fall on his butt, a final struggle resulted in the latch not only opening, but being removed completely. He pouted a little bit when he hit his bed – his finger had gotten caught in the rail when the front of the crib had slid down and he had hurt himself. But he had no time to waste crying over it. The pain was already going away, anyway. And his Dada needed him.

He clumsily rolled himself out of the crib and onto the ground, dragged his body on the floor for a few inches, and was then suddenly picked up in the air, metal latch still in his hand. He blinked several times as his face was pulled closer to Boom's, waited for him to do or say anything else, but he simply continued to stare and stare. They must have been there for a long time – long enough for him to fall asleep for a little bit, as the next time he opened his eyes, he was in the room where his Dada kept his toys.

His Dada's toys were weird. They were not colorful like his, and they did not move or make sounds. They were actually kind of boring to him, but his Dada seemed to love being there and bringing him with him. Sometimes, while they were both in here, his Dada would talk to him, point to his toys and say what he assumed were his toys' names. He could not say the words himself, but he did remember some of the things his father had said to him: 'soolyver,' 'amer' and 'sku.'

"Howie!"

His father calling his name from afar made him forget about the weird toys. He followed the Man with the Blue Eyes' movements around the place until he finally stood by the door of the room he was in. He was wearing that weird thing he sometimes used over his eye – he looked very funny using it. It always made him want to laugh.

"Howie, you scared the crap out of me."

When his Dada did not move from where he stood, and after looking down at his legs, a thought came to him. What if his father was waiting for him to go to him? What if his legs could do more than just hold him up for a little while? He did recall his Dada trying to bend his dangly things a few days ago, before he had sort of dragged him smoothly along the floor for a little bit. Maybe this was what he was supposed to do right now. Maybe Boom knew this to be the case. Maybe he had tried to help him to do just that, a little while ago.

One thing led to another, and before he knew what he was doing, he found himself smiling when he saw his Dada's face. It hurt a little bit, to bend his legs like this, but seeing his father's worried aura turn happy again was worth it. He could not help but giggle at the thought of making his Dada proud.

"Come on, Howie!" Tony continued his praise. "You're almost here. Keep going."

And he wanted to. He truly wanted to finish his crawl. Nevertheless, he could not do so any longer: Boom was now in the way.

And he looked very, very, very mad.

Not knowing what else to do, and realizing his father was beginning to grow anxious for some reason, he did the only thing he could think to do: he sat on the floor, looked up, and extended his arms towards Boom. Maybe, if his Dada saw him being picked up from the floor by Boom, he would finally understand what was happening around the house. Maybe, if his father knew that Boom needed help, his Dada would make Boom's anger go away, at last.

Unfortunately, Boom did not move; he just disappeared from view again. Fortunately, he did not have to force his legs to move anymore – his father was now picking him up.

"What were you staring at, Howie?" Tony asked his son. "You scared your dad. Don't do that again, OK?"

Feeling safe in his father's arms, he focused on smiling and laughing at whatever his father was saying to him. They then went to his room, stood there for a little bit, and then his father said something else, using a word he knew how to pronounce.

"Pi," James repeated with glee and made Tony stop his walk towards the nursery door. "Pi!"

"Pi?" Tony repeated himself and then smiled when he realized what his son was trying to convey. "Yes, Happy. That big, weird dude that hangs around here sometimes. Happy."

His father took them to the large room in the home; the one that had a view of other things outside the place they were in, just before everything went dark. There were now some random lights shining outside their place, and a lot of water seemed to be coming down from the sky. His father was quiet and still, yet he appeared to be on high alert, that weird thing still covering his eye. He opened his mouth to call his father's attention once more, to try to snap him out of whatever eerie feeling was quickly building within him, but he never got the chance to do so.

Boom suddenly reappeared.

And he was now standing behind them.

And this time, he knew by his father's reaction that he had finally seen the Metal Man.

The turn of events that followed made him more scared than he had ever been in his entire short life. His father was angry, frightened, confused, and now had on one of his toys around his right arm. The entire experience was new and different for him; it was rather terrifying, in fact. But what truly shocked him, what made him want to start bawling and tug at his father's clothes, was the fact that Boom had just tried to hurt his dad.

Tried to hurt him, too.

Tried to do something very, very bad.

The aggression on the Metal Man's part was so obvious, his intentions so clear in his aura, and his father's actions so startling, that he finally realized his gut instinct had been right: Boom was not looking for help, and he was not here to give help, either. Boom was here to hurt them all.

xxxXXXxxx

Reading about the devastation was one thing. Planning and training in a simulated environment to face the unthinkable: unforgiving weather, deplorable conditions, even death, was something else entirely. Seeing the images and short video clips of worldwide destruction was another. Yet, walking through the wrecked towns in person, seeing the terror and lost hope in the eyes of people – in the eyes of starving elderly and children – was something none of them had prepared for; something that no one ever, anywhere, would be prepared to do.

They had missed perishing in the attack on Paris, but only by a couple of hours, and only because Maya had been unable to keep walking, no matter how much she had tried. She had not been joking when she had stated that she was not fit for strenuous physical activity, yet she had kept going as long as she had, without stopping or complaining once. However, after nearly twelve hours of nonstop trekking, she had finally collapsed.

That had taken place eight hours ago, while they had still been on their way to their second safe house in Paris, France – four days into their travel plans; an entire day behind in reporting back to the island. The bombings had not seemed as much of a threat from their location in Calais, but the closer they had gotten to the inner parts of the European continent, the more the aftermath made them want to regurgitate the protein bars they had snacked on a couple of hours ago.

The capital of the peaceful country had been decimated during the second bombing, which had lasted several days in varying intensities – its magnificent buildings had already been somewhat weakened by the minimal initial attack, weeks ago. This time, however, the madman had not been so merciful with the City of Love. In fact, he had been the complete opposite of merciful – he had been downright cruel. Paris, France, the charming city, host of the well-known Eiffel Tower and numerous other world-famous landmarks, had vanished into a cloud of smoke and ash.

And everyone inside had perished along with it.

How many more people are going to die?

Pepper's grim thoughts were interrupted when she heard Bobby and Natasha, both walking ahead of her, arguing in barely hushed tones for the nth time since they had realized the safe house in Paris was gone. Part of their stop there was to ensure they let Tony and the others know they had made it alright – something they would later on confirm when they made it to Switzerland. The other reason for the existence of the safe houses, however, was to replenish their supplies.

"I wish they'd stop arguing," Nightcrawler whispered to the redhead, his pace slow to match hers and Maya's. "People are starting to stare."

Pepper raised her head, glanced around them to confirm the man's fears, and then fast-walked towards the bickering Iceman and Black Widow. Kurt was absolutely right: the citizens of the small town of Mareil-sur-Mauldre were indeed starting to glare at the group of five – and that was without Nightcrawler looking like he normally did. Tony had built him a bracelet that emulated the abilities of the Madame Masque mask, allowing for him to blend in with the crowd when needed. Ideally, the inventor would have preferred for everyone to wear this type of bracelet to disguise their true identities. Yet, with the short amount of time allotted to them and due to limited supplies, he had only been able to build these bracelets for Nightcrawler and Beast.

"Shut it, you two," the ginger snarled as soon as she reached the troublesome duo. "You're gonna give us away."

"You think?" Iceman rolled his eyes and scoffed mockingly, although his annoyance was not with the redhead he had been tasked with protecting, but the older one, instead. "Just being here is a bad idea! This is a small town! Everyone knows everyone! We're sticking out like sore thumbs. We should've stuck to the road until we reached another major city. This is a stupid mistake."

"Not as stupid as hoping we don't starve to death on the way to Bern. Especially now that we had to alter our path!" Widow retorted. "It was either this or running out of food and water in three days!"

"Water comes from rivers, the sky, and my fucking melting hands, Natasha," Bobby snapped. "And food is all around us. We could've gone deeper into the wild and hunted."

"With what? Our bare hands? We're traveling with the minimum amount of weapons, Bobby! We need to safeguard what we have!"

"The fuck?" Bobby's head recoiled. "You're a master assassin. Red here can see auras. I can freeze stuff until we can cook it. Kurt can sneak up on prey, and Maya…" Bobby looked over his shoulder to eye the brunette, snapped open and close his mouth a few times, and then returned his attention to the angry leader of the group. "Maya can clean up the dishes after us."

"I heard that," Maya groaned.

"I said it loudly, didn't I?" the X-Man replied.

"Seriously, you guys," Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand. "Just put a lid on it! Let's just cross this town as quickly as possible and then do what Bobby says."

"You're on his side? Are you crazy, Pepper?" Natasha snapped.

"No. I'm not. I'm actually saner than you are right now," Pepper shook her head. "Have you taken a look at these people? They barely have enough for themselves. We can't just take stuff from them! They'll starve!"

"Everyone will starve if we don't get you to Latveria," Widow suddenly stopped her pace to face the redhead. "Think about the big picture, Pepper!"

"I am! Me getting to Latveria is not seeing the 'big picture'! You're just thinking about me."

"Of course I am, because yes, it is 'the big picture'! We need to make sure that at least you make it there. Doom can't control you, remember?"

"And lowering my daily calorie intake for a few days won't hurt me."

"It will weaken you."

"No, it won't."

"Yes, it will!" Natasha could barely keep her voice down.

"No. It. Won't," Pepper replied. "It won't even put a dent in me, alright?"

"I'm not taking the risk, Pepper," Black Widow continued. "Besides, how can you be so sure?"

"Because after being tortured, I spent weeks in a submarine with very little food, feeling ill, poisoned, tired and with a broken leg, and I survived!"

Natasha stared at the redhead with an unreadable look on her face for a moment, looked around her to eye the increasing muttering crowd they were attracting attention from, and finally sighed in partial defeat before speaking once more.

"That was then, Pepper," her voice was merely a whisper. "We can't rely on that same luck you had back then to work again now."

"It wasn't luck, Widow," Pepper replied as softly as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. "It was Extremis. And it wasn't as strong as it is now. Unless… unless someone vaporizes me completely, or-or rips my heart out… I… I…"

"She can't die," Maya offered, knowing exactly what the redhead was trying to convey.

A bitter smile on Pepper's face was all the evidence the Black Widow needed to know she was telling the truth – and that she was not thrilled for this fact of her life to be the case. Black Widow had met and battled against evil men who had wanted nothing more but to be immortalized – to live forever and to defy the passing of time. She doubted any of them knew exactly what they were signing up for: watching your loved ones die, while you are left behind, was not something the spy wanted to experience – no matter how enticing it was to be able to live forever – or for at least a very, very long time.

"Fine," Widow sighed. "Let's just keep going. We'll camp outside for the night. And hunt, I guess."

The grateful smile on Pepper's face did not last long. It was interrupted by the sound of a fierce scuffle taking place nearby. The five members of the resistance turned around in place, their heads and bodies moving left and right until they found the source of the sounds of altercation – and found it to be an enraging sight once their eyes landed on it. Several feet away from where they stood, near a barely-standing shack, a woman and two children were being cornered against an outside wall of the failing structure by a mob of men; all of which were yelling threats at the small, scared family, while holding random items in their hands that were intended to be used as weapons.

"Donnez-nous la nourriture! Nous savons que vous avez!" the man at the forefront of the mob yelled as he took a step towards the frightened woman and children. In response, the petite woman pulled her children closer to her body, all three of them sitting on the bare ground.

"Je ne l'ai pas," the woman replied. "¡Il a été détruit! Je ne l'ai pas. ¡S'il vous plait!"

"Menteur!" the same man closed the distance between himself and the woman, forcibly grabbed the closest child to him, and then pulled her up by her arm. The little girl winced with the move. Her eyes were already filled with tears of fear, but she held back the second round of them. However, when the tall man squeezed her arm and shook her violently to make his point against her mother, the small child could not help to whimper loudly.

"HEY!" the redhead's angry voice did not make it through to the man, so she opted to run towards the commotion instead. "HEY! STOP IT!"

"Wait, no! Pepper!" Maya's words were ignored by the ginger, leaving the rest of the group to follow Pepper's lead towards the mob. By the time they caught up with the speeding redhead, Pepper was already standing between the fallen woman and boy, her back to them, and furiously eyed the man who was still holding the dangling little girl in his arm.

"Let the girl go," Pepper narrowed her eyes at the man who could have easily been described as being twice her size – long and wide.

The man eyed the smaller woman up and down and then scrunched his nose in distaste.

"This doesn't concern you, girl," the man snarled.

"Yes, it does," Pepper replied.

"Who the hell is that?" a different man in the mob, an older man, pointed towards Pepper, his accent as thick as the man before her. "She a foreigner, isn't she? She's here to steal what we have!"

"Get out of the way, foreigner," the man pulled his face closer to Pepper's. "We don't like your kind around here."

"Pepper," Maya whispered as her legs tried to take a step forward, but Natasha's arm stopped her from doing so.

"Don't," Widow shook her head. "If we get involved, we'll make it worse. Pepper can handle this."

"Are you sure?" Maya was not convinced.

"Widow is right," Kurt whispered back, flanking the brunette on her right. "If we show what we can do – that we're more than just passing travelers, we'll call even more attention to ourselves."

"Dammit," Maya's hands turned to fists.

"Then let the girl go and we'll be out of your hair," Bobby added, his pose similar to Pepper's as he now stood by her side.

The man scoffed and shook the child once more, clearly only to further irritate the redhead and the younger man next to her.

"This little boy thinks he can take a man," he said over his shoulder to incite a mocking response from the mob behind him. He then returned his attention to Bobby and eyed him up and down. "Your woman is trouble, you know that?"

"Yeah," Bobby smirked. "But not for me. If I were you, I'd do as she says."

"Or what?" the man cackled loudly and then dug his fingers into the girl's arm, making the child cry in pain.

"Let. Her. GO," Pepper said again, completely missing the gasp of recognition coming from the girl she was trying to help. All she could do at the moment was feeling the anger threatening to veil her self-control. She wanted to force the man to stop hurting the child. She wanted to teach this man a lesson he would never forget.

"Make me, little girl," the man replied.

"Oh, boy," Bobby said with a shake of the head.

The man quickly jerked his right arm back and then to the front, at the very last second releasing the small girl from his grip so that she would be flung towards the wall. Noticing this, Bobby sidestepped behind Pepper to catch the child while still in the air. Seeing that Bobby was now tending to the little girl, the man's left hand circled Pepper's neck and lifted her, squeezing it hard enough to know that it would hurt her, but not tight enough to kill her.

His victory was short-lived; however, as Pepper's physical response took place a tenth of a second after she felt the man's hand on herself. She placed both of her hands on the man's forearm to use as a pulley, used her feet to pad her way up the man's front, and then kicked him square in the face with her left foot, her right foot pressed against his chest to increase her purchase. She then curled up in the air when she felt the hold on her loosen a bit, but only to then use her legs to push the man back while her hands pulled him to the front, effectively dislocating the man's arm.

She never hit the ground, as by the time her maneuver was complete and she was dropped from the man's grasp, Bobby was already behind her, catching her in his arms before she fell down.

"Mandarin taught you that, didn't he?" Bobby carefully set her feet on the ground while furtively stealing a glance at her to make sure she was alright.

"Yup," Pepper straightened her clothes.

"Aren't you supposed to set it right back?" Bobby tilted his head to the right, his eyes focused on the other men trying to help their leader stand up.

"He doesn't deserve it," Pepper replied before she turned around and ran towards the small family behind her, kneeling before them with a kind smile on her face. "Are you alright?"

The woman did not dare to speak but nodded sharply. Pepper's eyes then stared at the boy and the girl, the latter of which had a hopeful look on her features.

"Where do you live?" Pepper offered the mother a hand to assist her in standing up.

"Right," the woman swallowed hard. "Right here," she pointed behind her and towards the crumbling shack.

Pepper stared at the place briefly, wondering how much longer the small home would remain standing, but her thoughts dissipated when she felt a little hand pull on her pants. She looked down to stare at the wide-eyed child beaming at her, and she could not help but to smile back.

"Are you OK now?" Pepper asked and the little girl nodded enthusiastically.

"What did they want?" Bobby's voice suddenly resounded behind Pepper, making the redhead look back to see the mob starting to disperse.

"Food," Kurt replied for the woman, having understood every single word spoken before them. "They said she had food."

"Do you?" Bobby asked, for an instant wondering if they had aided the wrong people.

The woman looked nervous for a moment, her eyes looking past the group of five before her and towards the scattering people who were now finally starting to mind their own business. When she felt confident enough that the crowd was no longer paying attention to them, she whispered her response.

"Not really," she stared at the ginger before looking down at her children. "Can you help?"

"I," Pepper suddenly felt stupid for jumping in to stop the abuse taking place. It was not that she did not want to further assist the woman, or the entire town, in fact. But she knew that she did not have much to offer herself. "I don't know. We… we don't have many supplies either."

Pepper expected the woman to look disappointed at hearing her words – perhaps even for her hopes to visibly shatter. Nevertheless, the response the woman gave her was the complete opposite of that.

"Come," the woman waved her hand towards them as she began walking towards the entrance of the home, her children in tow. "Please, come."

The five members of Team A eyed one another, silently conversing and deciding what to do. The night was a couple of hours away from falling and they needed to leave the town to set camp. However, when the little girl ran back to Pepper and grabbed her hand in both her tiny ones, the redhead was unable to decline the invitation the woman had just made to them.

"Just for a little while," Pepper told Widow, the ginger's eyes filled with hope that her team leader would once more give in to her wishes.

"Alright," Widow reluctantly replied. "But we leave as soon as possible."

"OK!" Pepper said with a smile before she was pulled by the child inside the shack, the other four members of her team following closely behind.

xxxXXXxxx

Just when he thought that he knew and understood everything about the world, something new came up. This time, it was the fact that he had been taken away from his Mama and Dada, against his will. He had cried, yelled, and kicked as hard as he had been able to, but Bro had still taken him away from his home. It was not that he did not trust Bro, or that he did not like him – he actually did, very much. But now that he knew that Boom was trouble, he did not want to be away from his parents. What if Boom did something to them while he was gone?

Then again, he was more helpless that he had thought himself to be. Yes, he could see everything and anything – things no one else was able to see. But that had not helped him or his Dada when Boom had tried to hurt them, days ago. The only thing his eyes had allowed him to see was the look on his father's face: a look of utter fear; of powerlessness. A look that had matched his aura, which had been filled with panic, anger, confusion and concern for his wellbeing.

His Dada had not been afraid to die himself. But he had been afraid for what could happen to his little boy.

His Mama had not been any better when she had finally come home to find them on the ground. It had taken her a long time to ease his Dada's fears, but she had somewhat done so, in the end. The next morning, he had thought that everything was fine again. That now that his Dada had finally seen Boom, that he would tell his Mama and they would be ready for him when he came back. However, a few days after that, and after Boom had scared his Mama while in the shower, Bro had shown up to take him away.

And now, here he was: far away from his parents, in a room that had tiny aura specks of his Dada and Mama all around it. His parents must have spent a lot of time in this place before, but that did not bring him comfort at all. Nor did the fact that he had seen them again the other day, in that large flying thing in the air. He had been surprised to see pictures of many scary-looking people on the wall in one of the rooms they had been in… and one of those pictures had been of Boom. But he had been even more surprised to have seen his Dada look right at the picture of Boom without reaction. Even his Mama had seen it, and she had pointed to it and some of the others that were close to Boom's, but she had not batted an eye. Was it possible that, even after all that had happened, his parents still did not see what was right in front of them?

In his desperation to bring attention to Boom's image, he had loudly stated everyone's name: Bep, Bro, Pi, Ony, and then Boom. He had even tried pointing at Boom's picture over his Dada's shoulder when he held him. Yet, it changed nothing for any of them at all. Eventually, he had been taken away from his Mama's arms once more, by a lady with an aura as kind as his mother's. He had felt safe with her, albeit only briefly, until another woman, a woman he felt he had seen before, showed up. His Dada and Mama had not been around when this other woman had held him and had poked him with something that hurt him – something similar to what Boom had used on him a long time ago; the thing that had previously made him feel sick. He had half expected to start sneezing again, to feel as yucky as he had felt once before, but nothing changed. He did not feel any different. And the small prickle on his arm had not even hurt that much.

At least not until now… not until the same woman had shown up again, hiding behind the same thing that Boom used to go undetected.

He watched her as she leaned down inside his crib to rub his fists, her eyes shiny and her lips trembling. Whatever she was doing right now, it was clear to him that she did not want to do it. Her aura was highly conflicted; a mix of regret, sadness, and only a tiny bit of resolve, which made it difficult for him to find the strength and will to yell Bro's name. He just stared at her eyes, red and wet, as she took out another pointy-looking thing from her bag and aimed it towards his neck.

"I'm sorry," he heard her say, her left hand briefly rubbing her face. "I'm so sorry, James."

The hand that held the pointy thing shook, stopping only inches from his neck. For a second, he thought that the lady was not going to hurt him after all when she took forever to make a move. However, when a muffled sound came from the hall outside the door of the room he was in, the brown-haired lady was scared into sticking the pointy thing into him.

The pain lasted only for a second; and her blue eyes were the last thing he saw before his eyes suddenly closed, for a long, long, long time.

xxxXXXxxx

The inside of the small house showed that it had once been a rather cozy, lively, and homey place to be in. Yet, as it was the case with everything else that had been affected by Doom's attacks, it was now nothing more than a rotting wooden structure, barely standing amidst the chaos that existed all around it, yet still somehow holding up picture frames from its precariously slanting walls. Her hazel eyes focused on a few of the pictures, all showing smiling images of the woman, her two children, and of a man that Pepper assumed was the father of the little boy and girl. However, it was clear as day to her that said man was not currently around.

"My husband," the woman began as she lit up a small candle to bring some light to the large, dark room, noticing where Pepper's eyes had immediately landed as soon as they had all walked inside. "He's a farmer."

"Is that why people think that you have food?" Maya asked, sighing in relief when she found a somewhat stable chair to sit in.

"Yes," the woman replied before she added: "My name is Olivie. This is my son, Rafael, and my daughter, Zoe."

"I'm–" the redhead hesitated, now suddenly remembering that Pepper Potts was supposed to be dead. "Patricia."

"Rescue," the little girl suddenly said, her hands clutched under her chin. "Rescue!"

"Uhm," Pepper's eyes darted towards Widow, who shook her head disappointedly at her. She then looked at Bobby, his lazy shrug not aiding her in coming up with a believable retort.

"My daughter looks up to you. I… I didn't recognize you at first, even though you looked familiar to me. But my Zoe," the woman smiled at the child. "She would recognize you anywhere."

Pepper bit her lower lip as she stared at the child once more, watching her as her skinny legs led her towards a drawer to open it up, take out a picture from it, and then run towards the redhead, waving the printout in her hand.

"What do you have there?" Pepper asked, gently grabbing the picture from the girl, and then held back a gasp. It was a picture she had thought she had lost – or that Tony had lost during his many business travels. It showed her, her right index and middle finger forming a slanted "V," her right eye winking at the camera, proudly displaying her first successful batch of homemade pancakes. She had taken this picture herself to digitally send it to her father while he had been in Afghanistan after he had stated that he did not believe she had learned how to cook. Tony had liked the picture so much, that he had printed a copy of it so that he could carry it around in his travel bag.

He told me he didn't know where it was! Pepper thought, a small knowing smirk on her face.

"Your husband, he gave that to Zoe before he left."

"Tony?" Pepper returned the picture to the girl and then stared at Olivie. "Tony was here?"

"Yes. A long time ago."

"Oh," Pepper's shoulders deflated almost instantly, hitting herself mentally for thinking that Tony could be nearby.

"Is he…" Olivie gulped. "Is he also alive, Mrs. Stark?"

"Yes," Pepper sighed. "Not here. But he is."

"Pepper," Widow's warning tone told the ginger that she was revealing more than necessary to this strange woman in this desolated land. It was already bad enough that their path had changed, that their safe house had been blown up, that they were running low on supplies, and that they had barely avoided a risky fight. The last thing they needed now was for a spreading rumor of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark being alive to run rampant on the European mainland.

"Please," Pepper locked eyes with Olivie. "Please don't tell anyone."

"Are you hiding from the Doctor Doom?"

"For now," Pepper admitted.

"Are you on your way to stop him?"

"Yes."

"Then you need my help," Olivie replied. "I can help you… if you can help me first."

"What do you mean?" Pepper inquired, for a moment wondering the true intentions of the woman.

"Your husband, he said you're as smart as him."

"Uhm, well," Pepper chuckled nervously, her fingers scratching the back of her neck, Tony's exaggerated bragging about her abilities to strangers flattering her into embarrassment even now. "I-I… I don't know about that."

"Come, please," Olivie urged her. "There's something you must see."

Before Olivie could hold Pepper's hand, Bobby swiftly moved from his apparently relaxed position by the door, to stand between Pepper and the woman, his distrusting eyes glaring at her. Olivie flinched, unsure of what she had done to cause such a reaction from the man that had just saved her daughter, so she lifted her hands in the air.

"I will not hurt her, Mister," Olivie assured him. "You can come to. You'll see."

"Bobby," Pepper rested her right hand on his shoulder. "It's OK."

Iceman stared at Pepper behind him, and then at Olivie in front of him, before he waved his arm at the woman in a way that was clear that he was encouraging her to lead the way. He remained between her and the redhead, however, everyone else trailing behind Pepper as they walked through a door and down a flight of stairs that led to a basement. Just as before, Olivie lit up a candle to provide some light inside the underground room, and Pepper gasped in surprised at what she saw.

The left side of the room was filled to the brim with boxes stamped with the Stark Solutions logo, while the right side of the room held a few crates with corn, bread, water, and other supplies. Nevertheless, what caught her attention the most – what made her run towards the middle of the room, was the device sitting on a table. She placed her hands on it, smiled briefly when she confirmed her suspicions of what the machine was, but then narrowed her eyes before she stared accusingly at Olivie.

"You do have food," Pepper began, her right hand pointing towards the boxes to the left of the room. "You have enough raw materials to feed this entire town for a year!"

"I do. I know," the woman acknowledged. "But I can't tell them that. Not yet. You saw what they tried to do to me and my children. If they came here, they would only make matters worse."

"Why? How?"

"Uhm, what's going on?" Maya stared at Kurt, who simply shrugged in response.

"It's broken. It stopped working when the first attack hit the capital and the power went out," Olivie said. "My husband tried to repair it. But we couldn't figure it out. And we… we couldn't call in an order for Stark Solutions to come fix it because…"

"Because communications are down," Pepper's head hung. "And because Stark Solutions' headquarters is gone."

Olivie silently nodded.

"What is this again?" Bobby walked up to the machine, looked at it from different angles, and then turned his attention to the redhead.

"It's an Intelli-crops generator," Pepper replied. "This," she pointed to the boxes, "Gets poured into the machine. The machine gathers information from the outside – weather patterns, humidity levels… tons of things. Then, using that data and the raw materials in it, it creates the perfect hybrid seed that can grow the fastest in these conditions. It cuts down watering costs, reduces growth time, and it increases in tenfold the yield of the crop. It's one of Tony's designs. This is one of the very first models of it."

"Your husband saved our lives with it," Olivie smiled. "Years ago, we could not grow much here. But he came by. He gave us the machine for free. He just asked that we cared for it. That we did not let it be abused. That we used it only for its purpose: grow food. I don't know what these men can do with the machine. If they find it to be broken, they may hurt my family. They may misuse the machine. I cannot let this happen. But, if it's fixed, maybe the men won't hurt anyone. And maybe I can help feed everyone until help arrives."

Until help arrives, the woman's words echoed in Pepper's head. They were the help. They had arrived. But there was not much they could do for now. Then again, now that Paris was nothing but a memory, and if Doom attacked a third time, it was very likely that this town would be the next target. She could not stop the bombings, and she could not stop Doom from here, but she could at least try to feed this town for a while.

"Where's your husband?" Widow suddenly asked, not buying much into the story, despite how sincere the words sounded to her ears. "You said your husband is a farmer. Why isn't he here?"

"He left to find help to fix the machine. He thought that maybe the power supply of the machine had fried with the power outage. So he went to Paris to purchase a new one."

"Paris?" Maya asked, her eyes immediately landing on Pepper's. "He's in… Paris?"

"Yes," Olivia nodded, evident in her features that she was unaware of what had occurred to the capital. It was no surprise, really, since it was very hard for them to figure out what was happening around the world, and they had Tony Stark and his tools on their side. Anyone else did not stand a chance.

"How long ago did he leave?" Pepper asked, her eyes on the smiling children watching her in awe, particularly the little girl.

"A week," Olivie replied. "He should be back soon."

Pepper's palm landed on the busted machine once more and she closed her eyes, images of the pictures she had seen on the floor above them coming to her mind. She opened her eyes when Bobby placed a hand on her lower back, his eyes asking her what she wanted to do now. It took her a moment of hesitation, but once her eyes landed on the hopeful look of her tiniest fan, she held back a choking sob.

"I can help you," Pepper eyed Olivie. "I can fix the machine. I just need some tools and time."

"Pepper," Widow's obvious disapproval was echoed by Maya, but it was Kurt's vote that ended the quarrel before it even had a chance to start.

"You're supposed to be the voice of reason," Widow gritted her teeth at the teleporter. "The reasonable thing to do is go while we can."

"Yes, it is," Kurt whispered back. "But sometimes, the reasonable thing to do, is not the right thing to do."

Widow opened her mouth to complain, but when she realized that the night had already fallen, and that Pepper would not move from the location until she was satisfied with the little help she could provide, she simply shook her head, walked out of the home, and decided to keep watch from the outside.

A storm was coming. It was going to be a long night.

---

A/N: Soooo… I'm soooo sorry and apologize to my French-speaking Faithful Readers if I butchered the little French I used here. I was going to ask (bother) one my Faithful Readers who helped me before with the language (fantasia-41,miss ya!), but I'm not sure if she's still around here on FFNET or even reading this story. I hope I didn't do too badly of a job! Anyone enjoying the Howie-side flashbacks? How about the one with Doom? There are more to come! Credit for the Doom flashbacks, though, goes to my hubby, Teen Tyrant. If they terrify you, that's all his fault XD Don't forget to review!