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.

11. Chapter 10

Guest Review Responses

Iron kid: Awesome chapter so far can wait to see more but plz can u update this more often plz because I want to see the ending so bad it killing me – I AM SOOOOOOOO SORRY! I finally got a job and started last Monday (YAY), so my time is so limited right now. However, you're totally right (and so are my other Faithful Readers who have told me to GET ON FINISHING THIS STORY, DAMMIT! XD I mean, that's not how they told me, but they should have!) Even though I have five other stories up here, I WILL make TLC my priority. I've been working on specific scenes for the other chapters, so they're kinda already in progress, and my hubby is writing the Doom flashbacks (so that will help me a LOT). He likes Doom, and he too wants to see this long story finished, so he's graciously and kindly jumping in to help me. So, yeah. He gets kudos for that (and the flames if you guys get scared or angry by Doom's flashbacks :P).

A/N: I will not update any other story until TLC is done. I am happy to report that, so far, we are right on schedule. We only have, hopefully, five more normal chapters, and then the Ending. I've already written the last normal chapter and the Ending, soooo, technically, I only have four more chapters to write! I hope it doesn't feel rushed from now onwards (the travel time to Latveria and the actual fight were always meant to be broken into parts interspersed with clarifying flashbacks, anyway). Then again, this battle is happening really quickly once we get to Latveria because, come on, who wants to sit and laze around when Doom is trying to kill your ass? NO ONE!

Thank you again, so much, for all your follows/favorites/alerts/reviews and general support for this story. You're the best and most awesome Faithful Readers any fanfic writer could have ever asked for!

On with the story!

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Chapter 10

Tony rubbed his face with his hands before he exhaled deeply through them. He then placed his right palm on his chest, felt for the pinwheel necklace he refused to take off, and then opened his eyes to wash away the sleep from his very being. The last five days had been hell on Earth for him, with everything that could have gone wrong in this mission, actually taking place thus far. Of course, this was not counting the only bit of good news he had received up to now: the fact that the parental units appeared to be doing alright in the States, despite the continued attacks Doom had perpetrated on cities around the world.

Five days. Five painstakingly long days since Team A had left – since he had last seen or heard from his wife.

He shut off the shower, closed his eyes for a moment, and then rested his forehead against the cold tiled wall. The almost freezing feeling of the cold water he had just had directly hitting his body and face did not appear to be enough to shake off the feelings of dread, desperation, and drowsiness that appeared to be determined to weighing him down. Nothing he had done as of now had allowed him to enjoy a good night's sleep, or experience the personal satisfaction of a hearty meal. Not even watching the videos and pictures of his son – the ones Maya had brought with her to prove that the child was alive – had made any difference for him.

They were simple inanimate objects, at the end of the day, and in no way did they replace the reality he wanted to be a part of. He could not place his hands on the image of his son and feel his warmth, or smell the uniqueness of his talc-like toddler scent. He could not stare at a picture of Pepper and expect her to suddenly show up at his door, appear in their bed, or at least hear her voice near him, yelling at him to take care of himself while she was gone.

If she were here, if she could see first-hand what this torture of lack of knowledge was doing to him, she would have become more than just fucking pissed at him – she would have already beat him senseless with her own two hands, and she would have forced him to rest. She would have told him what he already knew: that he was being stupid for not taking care of himself when he was supposed to be leaving soon. That he needed to have faith in her and in his plans – that she had survived worse situations on her own. That he was acting nothing like the man she had fallen in love with: someone who had always been proud, confident and sure of himself.

Then again, she was not here, and that was the problem. Or, actually, the problem was that he did not know where she was, or if she still was. And unless a miracle happened for him before his team was due to leave – in four days, to be exact – he would be on his way to Latveria without any knowledge of his wife's whereabouts and state of being. At least not until the four teams met at the final checkpoint in Kübekháza: a small village in Hungary, a few miles from Latveria's northern borders, where they would join T'Challa and be fitted with their new and improved armored suits.

Goosebumps made him open his eyes once more, and he welcomed the uncomfortable and prickly feeling they left on his skin. He then exited the small shower stall, grabbed a towel, patted himself dry, and then proceeded to put on some clothes. By the time he got out of his quarters and made it to the command center, everyone else was already busy doing their assigned tasks. The inventor walked towards his chair, sat in it, did not bother saying anything to anyone around as he caught up with the logs of last night, and then loaded the screen that showed the most recent map of Europe.

He sighed loudly as he realized that it had changed yet again; although, at the very least, the remaining checkpoints continued to be intact – it was just everything around them that refused to stay the same. Team A's next checkpoint before they hit the Alps was in Bern, Switzerland – their one after that being in Venice, Italy, which would be the last one before reaching the final meeting point in Hungary. Team B's next checkpoint, from which a message was due to be received today, was in Brussels, Belgium – their other two being in Frankfurt Germany, and then in Vienna, Austria. Team C would be leaving in two days; their first checkpoint being in Kassel, Germany, their second being in Vienna, Austria, and their last one, before their arrival at the final meeting place, would be in Budapest, Hungary. Team D would be leaving two days after Team C departed, and since their route was the most public, fastest, and easiest of them all, they only had two checkpoints: the first one in Luxembourg City, Luxembourg; and one before reaching Hungary, in Munich, Germany.

Had it not been for Doom's second attack, and the consequences of it, the resistance's counterattack would have been taking place according to plan. Or at least a lot closer than it was being executed right now. On the other hand, the fact that Team A was not yet accounted for and had probably been forced to alter its original path, could not necessarily be the sole reason for his planning to be counted as a failure. In his mind, he knew that casualties were the norm and not the exception in times of war. In his mind, he also knew that, just as Winston Churchill retreating from the battle of Dunkirk, the loss of Team A did not mean they could not still win the war. However, his fast-beating heart told him that if his redhead, if his Pepper, did not make it out alive, even if he were able to recover his son from the hands of Doctor Doom and save the world, his victory could not be called as such. At least not by him.

"Tony," Maria Hill snapped him out of his less-than-triumphant thoughts.

"Yeah?" he did not even bother to look back at her.

"Living Laser just sent this report to us: Team B has made it to Brussels."

Tony grabbed the piece of paper from the woman, scanned it briefly to confirm everything was as it should be, and then handed it back to Maria with a nod.

"Any news on Team A?" Tony asked, his soul for an instant filling up with hope when he saw that she had another piece of paper in her hands.

Unfortunately for him, a slow shake of the head was Maria Hill's only response.

xxxXXXxxx

He could hear them. Smell them. Feel them. Sense their auras and their almost crippling pain. But he could not make himself move a muscle to ease their agony. Everything around him felt cold and uncomfortable, and no matter how much he wanted to scream, cry, whimper, or try to communicate in other ways with anyone that had been near him thus far, he had not been able to do so.

He was not sure how or why this had happened to him, but he blamed the lady that had visited him hours ago; the one that had pinched his neck with something that had momentarily hurt him. There was no other explanation for his current situation. No reason for him to be trapped inside his own body. No other motive for his heart to break at hearing his Mama talking to him, crying over him, asking him to open his eyes for her.

And he wanted to do it, so badly, to please his mother. And his father, too, who he could sense had just walked near them as well.

"It's time, Pep."

"Not now, Tony. Jimmy is asleep."

Sleep. He knew what that word meant and it gave him hope. Perhaps, his Mama knew that something was terribly wrong with him, and that he just needed to sleep it off – to wait until the weird things in him made him feel better. That he was not ignoring her pleas on purpose; he would never dream of doing anything to make his Mama sad. That he wanted to open his eyes for her as much as she was begging him to do. Maybe, if he continued to be patient, and now that his Dada was here, too, between the two of them they would finally realize that he was just having trouble doing anything at all. That he was not disobeying them. That he was just a little… stuck.

That he was not really asleep.

That he could hear, sense, and feel it all.

"Pepper, honey. Howie is not asleep."

"Yes, he is. His eyes are closed, and he hasn't moved since we got here. He's asleep."

YES! His Mama knew what was happening to him! She could sense that he was trying to come back to her! Now, if only his Dada saw it, too. He just had to convince his Dada that his Mama was telling the truth!

"Once upon a time, there was a little boy named: Jimmy…"

YES! His Dada understood, too! He just had to! He was telling him a bedtime story, and he only did that when it was nappy time. Oh, how much he loved those stories! He did not understand half of what he said to him, but the colorful pictures he showed them while talking to him were very interesting. They always caught his eye, or at least until his Dada would distract him by making funny sounds with his mouth, like 'choo-choo,' or 'moooo,' or 'woof-woof.'

"And one day, little Jimmy realized he was special…"

If he could have moved, he would have smiled, perhaps even giggle in happiness. Not only was his Dada telling him a story, but now his Mama had begun rocking him, too. She was so warm and soft. He wanted to cuddle up with her. Bump noses with her. And he also wanted for his Dada to pick him up in the air and then wag him from side to side. It was so much fun! Not as much fun as being tickled, but still fun, nonetheless.

"And he lived happily ever after, with his family and his best friend."

He felt his father's hand on his face, rubbing his cheek up and down.

"I love you," he heard his Dada say just before he felt something warm press against his forehead. The move was then followed by the feeling of something wet falling on his cheeks and eyes, but his Dada was quick to wipe the itchy things away.

"Don't let them take him, Tony," he heard his mother say; although, the only word he had understood was the name her Mama called his Dada. He then felt her holding him tighter than she had ever held him before. It actually kind of hurt him a little, but it hurt him more that his mother's aura was spiking in pain all over again. "You can't let them take him. He… he-he just needs more time. He'll wake up soon, you'll see."

"Pepper, he… he's not waking up. They need to prep him, Pep. They need to take him now."

If he could have, he would have made a pouty face. He had thought that his Dada understood that he was just a little bit sick, but that this was all that was wrong with him. Now, his father sounded different – his aura felt different. It was something that made him feel uneasy, even if he was not sure what this feeling coming from his father was. All he needed to know, however, was that it was somehow the complete opposite of what his Mama's aura was telling him she wanted to do.

"No. Why aren't you listening to me? He just needs to sleep it off."

"Pepper, please. He's not–"

"NO! STOP IT, TONY! GIVE HIM TIME!"

Even though he knew his body did not move, he felt himself shake a little inside with how loud and angry his mother was. Actually, he was more than just scared – he was getting angry, too. He was getting annoyed at not being able to do anything to show that he was alright. And, he was becoming a little upset that his Dada was not listening to his Mama's words. He could not understand why he was doing that to her. He believed that his Dada loved him. He had thought that his Dada wanted him around.

Had something changed? Was his Dada trying to make him go away? Had he become tired of him?

Had he done something wrong? Had Boom told his Dada bad things about him while he had been away from his parents? Had Boom made his Dada not love him anymore? Was it even possible for his own father to not want him in his life? He was half of him, was he not? Was this why he was no longer allowed to be in the same place as he had been before, with them?

"Pep. Pep, Pep… Pepper, listen… look at me… Pep…"

"No, Tony! Don't do this to me! Don't help them take him away!"

"They have to. We-we have to let them."

"No, we don't! Don't take their side! You're supposed to be my partner! You're supposed to help me! Why are you taking their side? WHY ARE YOU BETRAYING ME?"

He hated not understanding all the sounds his parents made, especially when his mother was crying and screaming as hard as she was. He had never felt like this before, not even when Boom had tried hurting his Dada and he had almost not been able to break himself out of his crib. This was worse than that. Much, much, much worse! His Mama needed him. He knew he could help her. And she needed so much help! If only he could move. If only he could make a sound. If only his Dada would believe that he was just sort of asleep! If only his Dada was not mad at him!

"He's gone, Pepper. He's not coming back to us."

"But, he IS! He's as stubborn as you! You came back to me every time! Even when no one thought you'd make it, you did! Believe in him, Tony! Please, believe in him! You just have to… UGH!"

NO! He wanted to scream the other word that he somewhat knew what it meant. He had not been able to say it aloud yet, but he knew he was close to being able to say it. He would have probably even been able to say it right now, if he could move! It was a very powerful word; that much he knew. It made people stop whatever they were doing. It made people pay attention to whomever said it. He knew that, if he could just say that one word, that his Dada would stop making his Mama becoming so sad. He knew his Dada would no longer hurt her.

"NO! STOP! Don't do it! Tony! TONY! DON'T!"

"I'm sorry, Pepper."

He suddenly felt his mother's warm arms going away, and they were replaced by the warmth of another person – another lady; the one that had been nearby all this time. She did not seem to be a bad lady; her aura appeared to be sad, too. But he did not know her very well to just immediately trust her. So far, both Boom and the Lady with the Brown Hair had turned out to be bad people. He had to be more careful about who he would allow near him and his parents.

His mother's aura began changing, diminishing, as if something was turning it off around her. Her voice no longer sounded as loud, yet his Dada was as stubborn and blind as before. What had they done to his Mama? What had his Dada done to his mother? What had he done himself to deserve this? He did not want to be away from his parents, especially his mommy. Especially not now that his Dada was not listening to his mother's use of the word: no.

Nothing made any sense to him. Nothing at all. Least of all the last words he heard his Mama say before he was carried too far from her to hear her anymore. But he did not need to know all the words to know that his Dada had hurt his Mama very much.

"Fuck you, Stark! You son of a bitch! Why are you doing this? WHY?"

A few minutes after being taken away from his mother, and after being put in a very cold and empty room, he again passed out.

xxxXXXxxx

"We don't know how well it's working for Nightcrawler, but it's powered by something that should outlast us all," Tony told Beast as he checked the high-tech bracelet on Hank McCoy's right wrist, for the last time.

"So, something like a Twinkie?" Happy inquired, his eyes focused on something only he could see – perhaps mentally recapping the pre-planned path they would embark on in a few minutes' time. They would reach London rather quickly, and from there they would join the mainland by entering via The Hogue, in the Netherlands. "I read somewhere that Twinkies last forever."

"Or you watched it in a cartoon," Hawkeye said in his best nonchalant-sounding voice, if only to bring some humor to their tense departure. "I think I saw it, too."

"It's not powered by a Twinkie," Tony assured the X-Man with a roll of his eyes at the other two men. "I promise it will outlast a Twinkie."

"If this works as well as Professor Xavier's chair, I don't think I have anything to worry about," the blue-furred man replied with a smile.

"The Pep Ride…" Tony flinched at stating the nickname for the RT-50. "The-the chair… it's state of the art."

"Then so is this," Hank nodded.

Tony returned the nod with reassurance before he turned his attention to Maria Hill.

"You have everything you need, Agent Hill?"

"Yes, Tony," the kind woman placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want us to stop near Paris?"

"I'm sure," Tony replied immediately. "That's way off course for your team."

"It's no problem for us."

"No," the genius shook his head. "Stick to the course unless the path is not there anymore. Team A can still use the Bern safe house. They… they will use the Bern safe house. I just know that they will."

"Alright," Maria reluctantly agreed.

While Maria and Hank busied themselves double-checking their supplies and maps, Tony walked up to Hawkeye and gave him an apologetic look.

"I'll make sure you guys know as soon as Team A checks-in. I promise I will let you know as soon as we hear from them."

Hawkeye spared the genius a glance and nodded to him. Barton then inhaled and exhaled loudly through his nose, looked back to make sure the other four team members were not listening in to their conversation, and he then returned his eyes to Tony.

"You know, Natasha is not one to take normal things seriously. Like, engagements, marriage, babies… But… but it works for us, you know? She… she rarely calls me: her boyfriend. She thinks it's sorta juvenile-sounding, especially at our age. But," he cleared his throat, "But I know she cares. I know her. I know how she thinks. I know what she's capable of. I have hope that she and her team weren't anywhere near Paris when it happened."

"They… they're a strong team. They have a good combination going on. Maya is deceptively sneaky. Kurt is fast. Widow is cunning, resourceful and athletic. Iceman is strong. And Pepper… Pepper is stubborn as fuck."

Hawkeye laughed aloud and shook his head.

"She's something else, alright. I'm sure she'd rather do a lot of worse things before giving up."

"Yeah," Tony gulped. "She would."

The two men became silent for a moment, both lost in the words they were not saying aloud, thinking about their respective redheads, until Jarvis stood behind them and cleared his throat.

"Mr. Stark, may I have a word with you?"

"Sure," Tony instantly replied, gave Clint a friendly pat on the back, and then followed his family butler to stand a few feet away from the other individuals around them.

"Everything OK?" Tony asked.

"Yes. We should be ready to go in a couple of minutes. But, before that takes place, I wanted to ask a favor from you."

"Favor?" Tony crinkled his brow. "Wait, I'm not kissing Bambi goodbye for you. You need to make sure you come back to do that yourself."

Jarvis chuckled lightly, shook his head, and then handed Tony an envelope with the CEO's assistant's name written on it.

"As certain as I am that Ms. Arbogast would love to make the cover of The National Enquirer for being caught red-handed with her boss, the favor I wish to ask you for is to merely hand her that envelope, when the time is right."

Tony held the envelope in between his fingers. For a second, he wished he had the ability to x-ray anything with his eyes, and he then looked up to give Jarvis a pained look.

"I have a feeling that the 'right time' is not one I want to think about."

"Thinking about the worst outcomes is rather depressing. I agree with that. But regretting what we should've done to prepare for them when they come is much, much worse."

Tony stared at the envelope again, briefly closed his eyes, and then faced Jarvis once more.

"J, you don't have to go. You can still say: no. You… I'll send you back to the States. You-you can tell Bambi whatever it is this letter says yourself."

"I sincerely doubt she'd appreciate me telling her to move on with her life, if I'm still alive, Mr. Stark."

"You know what I mean."

Tony lowered his arms and then stared at Happy and at Hawkeye as he spoke. "I already sent my two best friends to war. I'm about to send two more. I… You're not obligated to do this."

The young billionaire's head hung. He closed his eyes, breathed loudly, and then felt his shoulders being grabbed.

"Tony," the use of his first name coming from his butler startled him. Not once, in all the years of serving his family, had Jarvis ever referred to him in such an informal way – not even when he was a child. The fact that it was taking place right now was unnerving for him; not because he felt Jarvis had no right to speak to him in this manner, but because of what the sudden casualness between them implied.

"Your father, your mother, and myself… we didn't raise you to be a quitter, son. You've gotten this far. Farther than a lot of people would've been willing to go at your age… in your position. The world thought you were dead. You could've stayed that way. Being safe underground. Let this war wear itself out, and then come out to rejoice in peace."

"I would've never been able to do that. My son is still in Latveria."

"James could have been with you the whole time, and you would've still suited up to fight this madman. Because… because that's what you do. That's who you are. That's who we look up to."

Tony slowly raised his head to stare at the man before him, but he was not given a chance to make any response when Jarvis continued his speech.

"We're not here because it's fun, Tony. We're here because we believe Doctor Doom has no right to do what he's doing. Because we think it's wrong for one man to have so much power and to abuse it as much as he has. Because we want to do something about it. And because we trust that you're the person to follow to do what needs to be done. Do you think all these people would do what we're doing for anyone else? Don't you think we would've preferred to do things differently?"

"I…" Tony swallowed hard. He honestly did not know what to say.

"We trust you. And we believe in you. And we know that no one can guarantee our safety – not even you. But we're going, anyway. I'm going, anyway. Because you're the one in charge."

Tony clenched his eyes shut, licked his lips, and then opened his eyes again.

"If you were going for a motivational speech, you kinda messed it up. I feel even more pressure now."

Jarvis laughed aloud and pulled away from him.

"Good. That was the point. Your mother… she would be so proud of her son. I know your father is. I know I am."

Unexpectedly, Edwin Jarvis found himself in an embrace with the genius; an embrace he returned as fiercely as it was being received.

"I'll see you near Latveria," Tony said.

"I'll save you a spot at the front row. I think you'd make an excellent human shield for me."

Tony chuckled as he pulled back and nodded to the man.

"So I've been told."

A moment of silence dawned upon them for a second as Tony stared at the envelope in his hands. He then looked up to face Jarvis, gave him a final nod, and then spoke to him for the last time before his team left.

"Well, now I have to go say goodbye to the other friend I'm sending off to war."

"Offer him a Twinkie. He'll forget all about it," Jarvis said without missing a beat, and then watched Tony as the young man laughed his way to where Harold Hogan was patiently waiting to be deployed.

xxxXXXxxx

That had been the longest nap ever for him. Long enough for him to temporarily forget the last thing that had happened to him before waking up. Long enough for him to momentarily forget that he had not been able to open his eyes, or move his tiny body at all, until now.

And it hurt to wake up.

It hurt really bad.

"Did you really have to try to kill him as soon as he got here?" the Lady with the Brown Hair asked a rather tall man that was standing next to her, both of which were looking down at him with questioning looks.

"Pepper Potts survived an outstanding dose of Taipan Snake venom when the Stane girl had her in the submarine. I just wanted to confirm that her offspring had, at the very least, inherited this same capability. Two days to get rid of the venom is not bad for a child," the tall man said, making him bring his attention to the stranger's aura and features.

It took him a minute of observation, but he learned a lot about the man before him. Most of it was not good, with the rare exception that the man appeared to have his Mama's eyes. Although, they did not appear to be warm or comforting as his Mama's were – they were cold, scary and… if it were at all possible: mean.

In addition, and for some reason he could not comprehend, the man shared part of his aura type with his Mama, but it was also tainted in the same way Boom's was. In fact, his aura composition was unlike any other person he had seen before. It was as if he were looking at his Mama, his Dada, himself and Boom, all rolled into one. It was confusing how one person could have so much of others in him; more combinations than he could count. But he figured that there were still many things, many, many things, that he was yet to come across in his short life. So many things that his Mama had not taught him yet.

His Mama. The thought of her and the realization that she was nowhere nearby made his lips quiver and his eyes water. She had been so upset the last he had been near her. So upset that he had feared she was going to make herself sick over it. Then there was his Dada. He had been upset, too, but he was not around either. Nor was the smart lady that had taken him away from his Mama. Or Bro. Or Pi. Or the Glowing Man. Or the other people his parents told him to call Grandma and Grandpa – not one of the four people that carried this name were in the room. It was just him, the Lady with the Brown Hair, and the Tall Man.

In fact, now that he allowed himself to feel and sense things around him, he realized he did not recognize anything of where he was. The smells were different. The sounds were different, too. Even the atmosphere itself was odd. It was not clean and comfortable like it had been in his home. It was uninviting, scary, and filled with something he would later come to understand were the remnants of death.

Sooner rather than later, he began to cry.

"See what you did, Killian?" the Lady with the Brown Hair picked him up, held him against her chest, and began patting his back lightly while rocking him from side to side.

"Made a baby cry?" the Tall Man scoffed. "That's what babies do. They're very stupid and pointless. Then again, this is not just any baby. This is my grandson. He might be worth my time."

"How you got so many women to sleep with you is beyond me."

"I'm quite the charmer when I feel like it. Ask your mother. She can give you the juicy details, if you're so inclined to be in the know."

"No, she can't," the brown-haired lady's aura momentarily showed pain.

"Oh, that's right! She's dead."

The Tall Man suddenly appeared behind the brown-haired lady, and only to forcefully hold his left arm. He tried pulling it away from him, a look of disgust on his face, and he succeeded in doing so, to the man's surprise. But when the man used both of his limbs on him, he was not able to pull away again.

"Let's cut his hand."

"He just regained consciousness, Aldrich!"

"Exactly. We've wasted enough testing time waiting for him to wake up. Let's get it started now."

"But–"

"Quiet, Maya. I'm doing this with or without you. But you're still cleaning up the blood."

Maya, Aldrich, and blood – three new words he would soon come to know what they meant, and the pain they all brought.

xxxXXXxxx

Despite the team's side-mission of gathering information on their way to Latveria, Team B was right on track – more so than any other team so far. Even if they had left Muir Island two hours before the scheduled time due to the news of the tragedy in Paris, France, they had not had any major issues arriving to their checkpoints for now. In fact, this very morning, when they had made it to the abandoned warehouse that served as their current safe house in Frankfurt, Germany, they had been ever so lucky to be able to set camp, eat, rest and replenish their supplies, all completely undisturbed.

Even the night had been transpiring without incident, but that did not mean they thought they could leave their guard down.

The first watch had been taken by Gambit. The second watch had been taken by Fury. The third watch by Scott. And the fourth watch, the one that had just ended minutes ago, had been carried by the blonde agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., whom he now knew was actually not referred to as Madame Masque anymore, but by her own S.H.I.E.L.D. codename: Chameleon.

It was now Rhodey's turn, and the man was more than grateful for Tony breaking up everyone in teams of five.

The recommended schedule for everyone to set down camp started at 8 P.M. and ended at 6:00 A.M. This allowed for the ten hours of night time to be equally distributed amongst all five team members, giving each other eight full hours of sleep, and leaving only two hours of guarding time per person. Two hours of full alert time was not bad, given the circumstances, and it still left them with plenty of time to regain their strength for the travel woes of the next day. They were also to rotate the order of the shifts, so that no one had to always be the one to get up at 4 A.M. every day.

Today, Rhodey had been the one to have gotten the short-end of the stick.

The last person on watch had to alternate between keeping an eye on everything and getting ready for the day. Extreme hygiene was not at the top of the to-do list for anyone on the mission, but there were some minimal items that needed to be completed for the sake of maintaining a healthy state of body and mind. The order and timeframe in which these items were to be completed throughout the last guard shift was irrelevant, as long as the person who was on duty was ready to leave by 6 A.M. – the time by which everyone else would get up and be ready to leave in less than five minutes from that time.

If everything went according to plan, Rhodey would only have to take the early morning guard shift one more time before reaching the final checkpoint in Hungary; their path was only ten days. He would wait until everything was said and done to praise his friend, but he was starting to realize that Tony's planning had been rather smart. On paper, the paths, timeframe and details of the missions looked too intricate and overly convoluted. However, and with the exception of the unexpected attacks on Paris, the execution of the inventor's crazy ideas was actually paying off.

That is, if no one counted the fact that Team A was MIA.

Rhodey would not lie if he were to be asked if he was even a little bit tempted about deviating from their assigned path to try to find Pepper. He was very tempted, in fact. She was as much of a friend to him as Tony was – even if, when first meeting her way back in school, he had tried avoiding hanging out with her at all costs, as if she were carrying the plague. Truth was that the chatty girl had wormed her way into his heart, had made permanent residence there, and the mere fact of imagining a life where he would no longer cringe when hearing her high-pitched whines was everything but comforting for him.

Rhodey wishing Pepper would be there to annoy him until the day he died… who would have thought that would ever be the case for him? Certainly not James Rhodes himself.

Then again, this was as unexpected to him as Tony Stark falling in love with Pepper Potts. Or the two of them getting married. Or having a kid together. Or them naming their kid in a way to honor him, in part. Or them…

Dying, Rhodey held back a growl.

To avoid going down the negative path his mind took him to when remembering the pain of believing his two best friends gone, the latest S.H.I.E.L.D. recruit stood up from the ground, double-checked that his gun was loaded, strapped it onto his belt, stretched his arms above his head, and then opted to quietly parade around the building. He had two hours to kill – no pun intended – and he was going to make damn well sure he did not sit still for too long. Staying in one place made one feel comfortable – and being comfortable led to falling asleep on the job.

The concrete structure had five floors, several empty rooms on each floor, a basement, and a once-usable rooftop, all of which reminded him a lot of the grounds at the Tomorrow Academy. In fact, save for the lack of paint, lockers, and some maintenance issues, the only thing the place needed right now to look even more like his high school was to have a water tower atop of it all. And possibly maybe even some random crates near the water tower which, to this day, Rhodey still did not know what their purpose back at the academy had been.

The Academy, Rhodey scowled. I wonder if Doom took it down, too.

Despite his alertness and constant walking from the basement and up the building, floor by floor, Rhodey's mind eagerly wandered, jumping from one seemingly disconnected thought to the next. His brain brought up memories of his time in high school, his early days as part of Team Iron Man, his time at the Air Force Academy, his training with S.H.I.E.L.D., family meals, friends' get-togethers, lessons in history about how Frankfurt's infrastructure had been affected during World War II, geographical facts of the area that told him the body of water by the south edge of the building was called the Main River, and how life had passed him by in the blink of an eye, leaving him with very little opportunity to grasp the fact that he was now a full-grown adult.

At his twenty-two years of age, James Rupert Rhodes was legally able to smoke, drink, have sex, and carry a handgun; which, in turn, made him old enough to die here tonight, as well.

The fact that he could die at any point during this war did not scare him as much as the fact that he knew that, if he were to perish at any point during it, he would do so without a legacy to his name. Leaving something behind to be remembered by had never been at the top of his list, but it was in situations like these – when death surrounded you every step of the way, and when the feeling of the present day being your last on Earth constantly crept up on you – that grim thoughts you would have never otherwise worried about would come to mind.

Yes, he was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., but so were countless others before and after him – and he was just getting started with the organization, anyway; he still had no major agent accomplishment under his belt. He was also War Machine, but anyone else could put on his suit and fight crime under that mantle – just as it had been the case when Happy Hogan had become Iron Man to replace Tony Stark, for a time. Even graduating from high school and college with honors meant diddly squat at the end of the day, unless you used your degree for the undeniable betterment of mankind: just as it had been the case with Howard Stark.

And even then, Howard Stark's only majorly known legacy, despite his academic achievements and years of individual hard work to build the largest technology innovation and manufacturing company in the world from scratch, would always be being one of the two people who brought into the world the marvel that was Anthony Edward Stark.

What was he, James Rhodes, responsible for? So far: absolutely nothing of value. So much for playing the role of voice of reason for the team: he currently could not even reason with himself.

Then again, if he did die during this war, and they still somehow managed to win it without him, would he not be remembered as one of the valiant members of the resistance who took on Doctor Doom and gave their life for humanity? Would he not become a fallen hero of war, or some other honorable title related to that? Maybe even get a school named after him? Perhaps a building? Or, at the very least, have a major street in his hometown renamed in his honor?

Maybe dying in this war was going to be his legacy.

Rhodey scoffed at the irony of his situation and shook his head. His eyes admired the barely visible glimmering of the water below him from his vantage point by the edge of the rooftop of the safe house. There was still no electrical power available for most of the populated world, but the moon was close and large enough tonight to provide sufficient light to see plenty of the area around him – to see the devastation left behind.

His gaze lifted from the river and aimed towards the other side of the stream. Some of the buildings were half destroyed, while others had already been rendered completely flat. A lot of the people they had seen on their way inside the city were living in makeshift tents in the street. Some others simply laid on cots or blankets on the bare ground. The lucky ones still had half a roof above their heads – but they did not have much more than those living outside.

He wondered if Vienna would be any better or any worse than this. He wondered if the States were still mostly intact after the second attack. He wondered if Pepper Potts was still alive. And then, he wondered what that whistling sound was.

His head looked up to the dark skies and moved left and right until the increasing noise made its origin clear, sending every drop of blood rushing down to his feet. It was fast. It was deadly. And it was heading their way.

"SHIT!"

His right hand landed on the short-range walkie-talkie device that Tony had made them. He barely had the chance to press on the emergency button before the draft created by the missile that flew above him sent him off to kiss the gravelly rooftop.

"Oomph!"

He rolled a few times on the ground, so out of control of his own body movements that, for a second, he wondered if he looked as ridiculous and helpless as the ducklings he had seen in online videos, forcefully being brushed away from their mother by a strong gust of wind. It had been funny when it had happened to them – it was absolutely unacceptable that it was happening to him.

"D-da-m-mit," even the much-deserved expletive was difficult to spit out when there was not enough air in your lungs to speak, but there was also too much wind hitting you in the face to be able to take a proper breath.

"Rhodey!" Scott's voice resounded from the walkie-talkie. "Rhodey, what's going on?"

The man rolled once more, this time voluntarily, so that he could minimize the loud noises above him with his back.

"Scott! Get out! Get everybody out! It's a missile attack! Doom is attacking again!"

"At night? That son of a bitch!"

If Scott said anything else after that, Rhodey was unable to hear him over the loud booms of bombs being dropped, shells exploding, buildings collapsing, people screaming, and the whistling of more missiles flying by. Moreover, James Rhodes missed the voices of his team demanding he got off the roof as soon as possible to join their evacuation efforts. And he only missed their words because, when the third set of missiles flew by above him, one of them dropped a grenade on the opposite edge of the roof he had been barely standing in… and it exploded on impact.

xxxXXXxxx

"Do you miss your Mama?" Maya asked the toddler as she removed the bandages that had once covered his formerly mutilated left hand. Aldrich had been running some testing and trials on him to increase the rate at which he could regrow parts of his body. After five months of being submitted to these atrocious acts, he was down to just a few minutes rather than days, as it had been the case in the past. Unfortunately for baby James Stark, Aldrich Killian was aiming for instantaneous regrowth, not systematic regrowth that took five-minute intervals.

"How about your Dada, do you miss him?"

The baby's eyes shifted from staring at his now intact-looking hand to staring at Maya's blue eyes. They somewhat reminded him of his father's eyes, even though they were a different shade of blue. It was very ironic to him how this woman's orbs partly resembled his father's, while Aldrich's resembled his mother's, yet they were nothing alike. Sometimes, he pretended that he was looking at his parents rather than at these people when he looked into their eyes; if only not to feel too sad that his parents were no longer around.

He took a few more seconds to reply, but he eventually slowly nodded a couple of times.

"Do you remember your Mama's name?" Maya took a few steps away from him and headed towards a drawer. He knew what she was looking for because she always did this after she finished patching him up. She did it so that the poor child had some happiness in his life while being experimented on like a simple lab rat. She did it because she hoped that one day she would be able to return this baby to his parents' awaiting arms.

"Who is this, James? Who is this?"

The toddler held the picture of his mother in his hands, his eyes becoming teary eyed almost immediately. He sniffled and he pouted, but he did not dare to wail. Aldrich did not like it when he did that. He always got annoyed and mad at him for doing so – and hit him when his cries became too loud for the man's taste.

"Bep," James replied.

"Mama," Maya pointed to the picture. "This is your Mama. Can you say: Mama?"

"Bep," James sniffled. "Bep."

"How about your Dada?" Maya showed the baby another picture. "This is your Dada. Can you say: Dada?"

Just as before, James grabbed the picture in his hands, stared at it, and a small smile formed on his lips.

"Ony," the child's smile grew wider. "Ony!"

The brunette watched James as his eyes jumped from staring at one picture to the other, his face denoting how much he missed his parents. How much he wanted to go back to them.

"Aya?" the baby's version of her name was endearing to her, but not so much was what she knew he was going to do next. He always asked the same question every time these pictures were shown to him. It never failed. Just as it never failed to impress her how quickly this fifteen-month old child was learning new words, and how smart he was becoming. It should have been impossible for anyone so young, and yet he was doing it.

"Go?" James lifted the pictures of his parents and waved them in his hands. "Go?"

"No," Maya shook her head with regret. "Not yet."

James's arms dropped to his lap, but he did not let go of the pictures.

"W-w-wheeen?" he still struggled to say the new word he had learned a few days ago, but he knew that he had to keep saying it until Maya told him it was time to see his parents again.

"I don't know, James," the botanist carefully took the pictures from him.

Now that his arms were free, he hugged himself and looked at the woman while she put away the pictures back in the drawer in which they were kept. A moment later, she returned to him, was about to pick him up from the worktable to bring him with her to go eat, but she was stunned to near stillness by the sudden widening of James's eyes and the word that he uttered in fear.

"Boom."

Not two seconds later, Doctor Doom walked inside the lab through the door the toddler had been watching with dread. Doom had never hurt him since the time he had scared him and his father, back at the penthouse, but James was still very wary of him. It was mostly due to the fact that Doom treated Maya rather poorly and violently, and Maya was the only person around here that seemed to care about him.

"Leave, girl."

"But–"

Whatever response Maya was about to make, it was silenced by the back of Doctor Doom's metal hand. He really despised having the wretched woman around his castle, but she was yet to outlive her usefulness. If it was not for the fact that no one else around here seemed capable of caring for a young child, Maya Hansen's life would have ended a long time ago.

"I will not repeat myself."

Maya held her already swelling cheek with her right palm as she stood up from the ground. She gave James a look of concern, stared at Doom's back, and then nodded once.

"He needs to eat," she dared to say on her stumbling way towards the door. The slap had surely jumbled something inside her head; she was seeing dark spots. It was probably going to leave a large bruise behind, too. But it was all worth it if Doom made sure James was fed. The unfortunate child needed a lot of food to make up for the energy he had expended re-growing limbs for Killian's amusement for the past week – much to the brunette's chagrin.

Once the door was closed and Maya was gone, Doom turned his attention to the frightened-looking boy, whose legs were dangling from the edge of the table he was sitting on. The small child did not look like much, but Doom had come to learn that his innocent appearance was very deceiving. He was the only person in the world that was able to see through his highly-advanced cloaking device with his bare eyes. He was immune to his Mainframe's brainwaves without the need for any protection or deterrent devices. He could read his emotions like an open book – a fact the ruler of Latveria was still not comfortable with. And, above all, he was at a prime age for him to be molded to his will: to be trained to become what he wanted the child to be, now that he saw the incredible potential in him.

"You will make a formidable heir, child," Doom almost hissed the words out. "And a worthy son to Doom."

xxxXXXxxx

Slowly but surely, as steady and almost imperceptible as the shattering impact a dripping faucet could have, the underground facility at Muir Island had become nearly deserted by now. Every day, systematically and purposefully, groups of inhabitants of the facility had trickled out of the premises per Tony's instructions. The closer they got to finally facing Doom, the antsier the members of S.H.I.E.L.D. had become. Tony understood their anxiety – if the members of the resistance failed in their mission, the world as they knew it would most likely cease to exist. As soon as Doom realized where the base of operations was for them, it was almost a sure thing that he would make sure to leave nothing behind of it but a memory.

The inventor was keenly aware of this; of what today's departure of his team implied: today was the beginning of the end. Today could be anyone's last normal day on Earth.

As such, the blue-eyed boy had taken into account this unique situation for the remaining members at base by slowly relieving them of duty until only Professor Xavier, Doctor Ross, Doctor Betty Ross, and a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. volunteers who refused to leave the building remained. This last group of support members would, in just a few moments, become the only inhabitants in the underground facility; a location that could very well become their final resting place if Doom got it out of anyone in the field the coordinates of this location.

Walking the halls of the place he had called home for the past few months was bittersweet. He had not become irrefutably attached to the place, but it was always sentimental to leave the locale that had hosted you while you prepared for the greatest challenge of your entire existence. Every other structure he had had any attachments with was gone. This underground facility – this hidden gem in Ireland, was the only place he could call home for now.

And he was going to leave it. Walk out of it and never look back. And that scared him for reasons he wished his mind would stop bringing up to him.

"Tony, come in," Rogue's voice in his walkie-talkie nearly startled him. "Are you almost here? The final group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents is about to leave."

The genius struggled to maneuver the box in his arms while collecting the communication device attached to his hip to make his response.

"Yeah. Just give me a minute. I'm almost around the corner."

"10-4."

As soon as he returned his walkie-talkie to his hip, his eyes trailed down to stare at the contents of the box he held in his hands. It was the same box of personal items that their families had collected from the abandoned Stark Solutions penthouse and the former Rhodes' home before they had been dragged underground by S.H.I.E.L.D. The last party of agents to leave the island had a destination of the States. It was Tony's hope that, if he sent the box with these parting members of the resistance, that his and Pepper's belongings made it to the hands of Howard Stark and company; that, at the very least, their prized possessions made it home – even if they did not.

The only two items that were not going to be sent back in this shipment where his dog tags, which Pepper had with her; and Pepper's pinwheel necklace, which he had around his neck. He knew that Pepper had taken other items with her on her trip to Latveria, but he could not worry about how to get those back home right now. His only hope – his only wish – was that Pepper herself would be able to bring them back with her… alive.

"There he is!" Bruce Banner's voice was loud and clear in the dead of the early morning as the underground location now resembled a ghost town more than a research facility.

"Thanks for waiting," Tony said with a nod.

"We saved a spot for it, right here," Agent Coulson said, pointing to the last available cargo space inside the stealth Quinjet while Tony placed the box in said location.

"I wrote the address here," Tony tapped the words on the box. "You can just drop it off whenever you get the chance. Doesn't even have to be right as you get there. You can even have it shipped there. It doesn't even have to be delivered in person, either. If you do ship it, have it be paid on delivery. My dad will take care of it."

"It's no big deal, Mr. Stark. We'll stop by as soon as we land," Agent Coulson assured him. "We… we understand the value of these items. Mrs. Stark would kill us if we didn't make sure they made it to her father in one piece."

Tony chuckled lightly, amused that even the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. knew of his wife's antics, and then shook his head.

"I'm sure she'd understand."

"Not taking any chances," Agent Coulson shook his head from side to side, an almost undetectable smirk forming on his face. "I heard she can be very scary when she gets mad."

Tony chuckled again and shrugged.

"You should see her when she gets pissed."

This time, it was Agent Coulson who laughed aloud.

"Anyway," Tony continued, "I've held you guys back too long already. Thank you for doing this for me. Stay alert… and stay alive."

"We'll do our best, Mr. Stark."

"Then you'll be alright."

After a final nod from the genius, Agent Coulson joined the rest of his crew inside the Quinjet, all of which had been ready to leave about five minutes ago, but who had also patiently waited for the leader of the resistance to bring the box to them. They would never tell the head of S.H.I.E.L.D., but they felt better led and understood by the young genius than by the veteran of the peace-keeping organization of the world. They knew that, had Fury been the sole voice of command during this operation, they would have never been given the chance to return home to their families as they were doing so right now.

At first, the agents had been skeptical of Tony Stark calling the shots for this counterattack. Yet now, they saw first-hand the hidden strategical and leadership abilities the blue-eyed boy appeared to have. His wife, the spunky redhead, appeared to be as compassionate and considerate of others as her husband seemed to be – this was another observation that the agents had made throughout the course of their stay here. They were honored and felt indebted to make sure the two heroes' possessions made it into the hands of their families and friends. It was the least they could do for the people who would waltz into Latveria for the sake of everyone else.

Tony remained silent and pensive as he, Rogue, and Banner watched the aircraft lift in the air and become invisible once in the sky. The genius then looked behind himself to stare at an incoming Gene Khan and Jean Grey, and the other four members of his team immediately saw the change in his eyes. He went from looking friendly and partly relaxed, to looking focused and intense.

"Are you all ready?" Tony asked as he caught his travel backpack that Jean had been carrying with her, and he threw it over his shoulders.

"We were ready yesterday, Stark," Gene spat in what anyone else would have believed to be an annoyed tone, but Tony knew that he was just doing it for show.

"Then let's go," the inventor replied, earning him a nod from everyone in his team.

Sadly for Tony, his wish that they would hear from Team A arriving a Bern today, right before his team left, was never meant to come true.

xxxXXXxxx

He had partially lied to Nick Fury about the progress of his work when they had met last month, and only because his employer was more likely to kill him than Fury was likely to even attempt arresting him for not having the cure to all of their illnesses ready when he had promised that he would. What the two men did not understand about his research, not even the great Doctor Doom, was that Extremis was a rather volatile compound that, most of the time, yielded unpredictable results. It could not just be molded to do as one pleased whenever one felt like it. If that had been the case, then the creator of the virus would have not resorted to having to change his identity over and over again, for so many years.

And, he would have not killed so many women, either.

For that matter, he would have never pursued fatherhood, otherwise.

"Oh, my dear Virginia. To think that your son would become the answer to all my problems."

He had never been one to embrace sentimentality, foster the establishment and nurturing of family ties, or even be one to be interested in the concept of serendipity. However, the more he had learned about James, the more he had also learned about Pepper. And the more he had learned about Pepper, the more he had become impressed and curious about the life of the child he had deemed to be nothing more than a scientific failure.

As Aldrich Killian waited for the final results of what he knew would be his greatest scientific achievement, he took a moment to flip the qualitative coin of Pepper Potts-Stark.

She looked so much like her mother, sans her eyes, as Jill Hayes's orbs had been of deep green. The Rescue alter ego had inherited her father's eyes – large, hazel and filled with innate wonder. She was overly curious and daring as he himself was, stopping at almost nothing to achieve her goals. She was, just like her father, odd by nature; so much so that she had been shunned by her peers at varied stages of her life – just as he had been, as well.

Like father, like daughter.

The old saying could have not been more accurate… or at least, to a certain extent.

The simple fact that his daughter had caught the interest of arguably the brightest male mind in history gave the biological father some sort of weird pride. He was not even sure why he felt as if he had had some say in how Pepper had led her love life, but the fact remained that this little redheaded failed experiment of his had sprouted the final piece he had needed to make Extremis what he had always wanted it to be. It was as if he felt that his personality, or the parts that had been passed onto the girl, as well as the unnaturally strong pull the boy's Extremis had towards the strain that his and Jill's blood had granted her, had somehow been the decisive factor in Tony Stark falling for her, and only so that he, Aldrich Killian, could use their unique offspring to better his professional and personal life.

No. It just could not be a simple coincidence. This just had to have been a natural consequence of his master plan. Pepper Potts was alive, thanks to him. She was as successful as she was, thanks to him. She owed her good life to him. She owed everything in her life, to him.

The beeping signaling the test being finalized made his eyes focus once more. His pupils rapidly moved left and right, taking in every detail of the results, and he smiled widely.

He had done it. He had finally done it. He was cured. He was no longer ill. His life was no longer at risk.

And, soon enough, neither would Doom's.

xxxXXXxxx

"I'm not proud of what I did, you know?"

Maya Hansen's voice was not a surprise to the redhead. She had sensed that the brunette had been awake for some time. The botanist was due to relieve the ginger from her watch in a few minutes, anyway, so Pepper had made no mention of her awareness of the conscious state of the brunette.

"I never wanted any of this to happen to you. To Tony. To your son. To anyone, really," Maya continued when all she got from Pepper was a one-sided shrug.

"I don't know what I'd have done in your place," Pepper admitted, much to her dismay. It had been difficult for her to come to terms with the fact that the only woman she had ever called her friend had betrayed her – had taken her child after trying to kill him. But, in the end, her words were as true and honest as she could make them: who could say no to Victor von Doom? Who would dare to stand in the way of the ruler of Latveria and his goal without fearing the results of said feat?

Her hazel eyes stared at the moon, and while her pose seemed relaxed, the dilation of her pupils showed that she was sensing every living thing around. This aura reading ability had been either very useful or very annoying during this entire mission. It made night watch a lot easier for her. But it had also made it difficult to tell Olivie before they had left the village that her husband was most likely dead; especially when she had seen the woman's hope and energy practically dissipate before her eyes at hearing the news about the fate of Paris.

Then again, even after the news had been delivered to Olivie, the woman had still honestly wanted to help her daughter's role model to have the tools she needed to stop the madman that was responsible for the current chaos of the world. Despite it all, Team A had left the village with supplies and food – ones that Olivie had stored away for their own use, but ones that would no longer be needed now that the Intelli-Crop machine had been fixed. The device Tony had left in the family's care could do its job of providing for the village again, just as it had when he had given it to them years ago while finding buyers for Stark Solutions' newest product for saving the world. Olivie's family would not starve. The village would not starve. But Pepper knew that the small family would have preferred for the father of the unit to return home alive.

"You'd probably tell Doctor Doom to kiss your ass," the brunette's words forced Pepper to pay attention to her once again.

Maya sat on the ground, opposite to the redhead, her hands rubbing her arms up and down. The closer they had gotten to Bern, the colder the nights had become. She did not want to imagine how much worse it would be once they reached the Alps. From all the different climates Tony could have picked for them to travel through, the damn genius had to have chosen one of the coldest environments. From what she had gathered during her own research, Mount Matterhorn was an unforgiven and deadly mountain that had claimed plenty of lives already. From all the paths and mountains to choose from, Tony Stark had chosen the one peak that had killed half of the party of first hikers that had dared climbed to its top.

Pepper scoffed, her eyes returning to normal after a quick blink. "That would have been the last thing I would've said in my life, that's for sure."

"It certainly would've pissed him off."

"And he would've told me how insolent I am, and how he was going to finish me."

"Yeah," Maya nodded sharply before taking in a deep breath. "But, he wouldn't have killed you."

Pepper sneered. "Not right away, no. He'd probably torture me first. Tony told me about his castle and how it looked like the movie set up for an insane asylum."

"It did… it does. Yet… he… I doubt he could've done the job himself."

"Why?" Pepper frowned. "My bounty was the highest. That guy wants me dead."

"He does," Maya eyed the redhead. "But… but he can't kill you himself."

"Why not?"

The botanist exhaled deeply, stared at the ground, and then swallowed hard.

"You… you know how, somehow, Madame Masque and Whitney Stane got sorta… separated while in The Void?"

"Yeah?"

"Well," Maya scratched the right side of her head. "When Doctor Doom was in that other dimension, with Yogthulu, something happened to him. Something similar to that. Part of him stayed there. Part of him came back. And the part that came back… He… he would never say it aloud, but I could tell the difference. James could tell. He… he came back with a weakness. A weakness he never had before."

Pepper narrowed her eyes. "And you're telling us this just now? Why didn't you tell Tony about it before? Dammit, Maya!"

"Wait," the brunette raised her hands in a defensive manner. "It's not something we can exploit."

"All weaknesses can be exploited."

"Not this one," Maya said with confidence. "At least not in a way that we could have taken advantage of."

"What?" Pepper rapidly shook her head from side to side. "I don't understand what you're saying. And I don't get why you're telling me this, if it doesn't matter. What's the point? What are you getting at?"

"He changed. Doctor Doom: he was changed."

"How?"

"He was tortured by Yogthulu. A lot. Like, mentally tortured."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "With what? Watching Latveria turn into a democracy? Learning that Dr. Reed Richards got another Nobel Prize? Finding out his castle is so outdated it could be turned into a museum?"

"No," Maya shook her head. "I think… I think he would've preferred that. Or at least that's what I gathered from the few times I saw him at his worst."

"Maya, you're not making any sense. What are you trying to say?"

The brunette's eyes finally locked with Pepper's, and had the redhead not had the ability to read people's real intentions and honesty, she would have never believed the next words that came out of the woman's mouth.

"You remind him of Valeria. So much. All those times he visited your home, he didn't do it just so that he could learn more about you, or Tony, or even your son. He also did it because you remind him of her. Of his dead fiancée. You… I've seen recordings of her. You act and speak just like her. He hates you for it. He hates the fact that she's dead and you're alive."

"So?" the ginger tried to hide her surprise. "Why does that even matter? He still wants me dead."

"Yes. And he probably suspects that you're like James: that the Mainframe can't control you. The reason you need to know this – to REALLY think about this, is because he's going to go after you almost immediately, with everything he's got, Pepper. You have to make sure you don't trust any of us once we get there, unless it's your son."

Pepper looked away from the woman, stared at the sleeping members of her team, and then sighed.

"I can't take on all of you at once. I… won't… I don't want to hurt you all."

"You may have to," Maya replied. "You may even have to kill us to keep yourself alive. I know what it sounds like. I know that you don't want to do it. But you may very well have to. Doom is not dicking around, Pepper. He won't play nice. You and James are the only two people in his way. The rest of us… we… we don't have much of a chance."

"Well," Pepper smirked once a way to avoid the difficult conversation came to her mind, "I was gonna kill you afterwards, anyway. So, that's one down, huh?"

Maya scoffed. "Yeah. I wasn't ever gonna make it back, anyway. So that leaves you with only eighteen people to worry about."

"Nineteen. Doom is number nineteen."

"Twenty," Maya said, her eyes showing that she had just realized their count was incorrect. "Aldrich is there, too."

At the mention of her biological father's name, the redhead pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

"He's immune to them, too," Maya watched the ginger from the corner of her eye. "He got the immunity from the many versions of Extremis he has injected himself with throughout the years to stay alive. He's as immune to the Mainframe's powers as you and James are."

"I better not find him, then," Pepper's voice was cold and calculated, much so as it had been when the redhead had threatened the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. upon waking up in Muir Island, or when she had pinned Maya Hansen to a wall by her neck. "That's one son of a bitch I wouldn't have second thoughts about killing. More so than Doom, actually."

"Same goes for him to you. Killian, I mean," Maya locked eyes with Pepper. "He's a coward. A weasel. He'd do and say anything to stay alive, no matter how disgusting, gruesome, cruel, deadly or unfair it may be."

"I kinda gathered that much. But thanks for the heads up, I guess."

Pepper cleared her throat, stood up from the log she had been sitting on the entire time, and then began walking towards her sleeping bag. She was grateful her night shift had just ended; she doubted she could continue engaging in a conversation she did not want to have.

"Night, Maya."

"Night, Pepper."

Maya's eyes stayed on the redhead as she got comfortable inside her sleeping bag, her back towards the botanist's current location. The brunette then waited about ten minutes to make sure that Pepper was fast asleep before she dug her left hand inside her pants pocket and took out a syringe filled with a purple liquid. The delays they had encountered so far were working against the expiration date of the serum in her hands. If they did not get to Latveria in the next ten days, her plans would be all but ruined.

She could only hope that, collectively, Nick Fury and Whitney Stane had better luck. She could only hope that Doctor Doom did what he was supposed to do to Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.

xxxXXXxxx

Even though he was, at first, not allowed to explore the castle at his leisure or by himself, his unrestricted vision ability had helped him determine how large the structure truly was. It had many floors, hundreds of rooms and, although most rooms seemed to be either empty or serve no fascinating purpose to him, there was a particular room that had caught his interest almost as soon as he had been able to locate it – enough to make him want to find a way to get there in person and see its wonders for himself.

After all of this time being Aldrich Killian's lab rat, and after being put through all types of excruciating tests, the more he had learned about what he could do that others could not. Such as what he was doing at the moment: quietly sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night to satiate his curiosity with the likes of Castle Doom while keeping himself and his nightly activities hidden from Maya, Aldrich, Doom, and all of his metal guards.

Long gone were the days he could barely keep himself up or break out of his crib back at home. His feet and legs were much more coordinated now, to the point that, on one recent occasion, Aldrich had had to resort to sedating him with a dart to keep him from running away from the scientist. They had been walking the halls, just the two of them, heading to the room where Aldrich tortured him, and the small child had wanted to escape another session of pain. He had seen no other way out than to run in the opposite direction they were walking towards, as fast as his legs could take him, and before he had been able to crawl inside a vent that had had a loose metal grid covering it, Killian had halted his efforts by shooting a tranquilizer into the back of his neck.

The effects of the sedative had only lasted a few seconds – his body had filtered the attack rather quickly, much to Killian's simultaneous frustration and delight – but it had been long enough for Killian to catch up with him, lift him by the ankle, and slap the child in the face. James had not whimpered at the act; tears had not even made their way to his orbs. He had just narrowed his eyes at the man to silently show his disapproval of his actions, all in a way that had reminded the Extremis creator of a blue-eyed inventor he knew. It was astonishing to Aldrich Killian how this toddler could resemble his father so much, especially when he was forced to do something he hated – or when he felt the need to protect himself or the brunette.

Because, yes: Aldrich Killian had been attacked before by James Howard Stark – or as much as a child could attack and wound an adult – when said man had laid a hand on the botanist in front of the heir to Stark Solutions. James really did not like anyone harming Maya Hansen. Not even Doctor Doom.

The first and only time the boy had stood up to the cruel monarch had been a surprise to everyone – madman included. The toddler had learned a tough yet important lesson that day: do not try to attack Doctor Doom by amplifying the crippling effects of painful aura vibes within the metal man. However, a lesson had also been learned by everyone else: James Howard Stark was more than just a special child, or a carrier of Extremis – he was his father's son; in all the ways an offspring could honor his male creator.

Or his mother, for that matter, just as he did when his child-like strategizing paid off.

In other words: just as it was the case right now.

He held back a giggle of excitement when he reached the vent that he knew led to the room in question. It was very easy to now avoid the obstacles that had a few times before kept him from getting closer to the room. Every previous occasion he had tried to reach this room, he had been stopped by one of the many traps that kept whatever treasure held inside from being reached by anyone other than Doctor Doom. James had never seen anyone else in that room other than the man himself, so he knew that there just had to be something in there that was worthwhile uncovering. It could be one of Doom's toys (he had as many toys as his father had). Or maybe it was a secret. A big, big secret that Doom had hidden in there for no one else to find. And the child hated knowing there were secrets being kept from him, especially when he could see everything and anything, no matter where he was.

His abilities had been slowly developing, thanks to Aldrich Killian's mentoring and intervention. As such, James knew that there was only a shiny, round object in the middle of the mystery room. But his still young mind told him there just had to be in there something other than the hot, metal thing that released so much energy, day in and day out. Maybe, just maybe, that room was the best way out of this stupid place where he had been held against his will for too long.

He missed his parents, so much. He wanted to go back home. He could not continue waiting on Maya to tell him when it would finally be time to leave. He had waited, all this time, rather patiently for a child his age to be told they could leave this ugly place. And even though he trusted and liked Maya very much, he doubted the woman could ever get them both out of there. He knew she wanted to leave, too. He knew she was sad, scared, and miserable here, very much so as he himself was. But he also knew that Doctor Doom and Aldrich Killian would never allow them to be free from the pain they both put them through. He could see it in Aldrich, and he could see it on Doom, as well: both men enjoyed making others suffer. Both men felt the happiest when they were able to inflict pain upon those that were weaker than them. The only difference between them that young James could tell, was that although Doom was somehow the worst of the two, he at least commanded a certain level of respect, even as cruel as he was. Killian, though… James had no respect for him. He could not see how anyone could.

There were other exits throughout the castle, that much he knew to be true. But he also knew that, even with his abilities, he would eventually be caught by one of Doom's guards if he tried to take the typical ways out. That room in the middle, nonetheless, was not guarded by people – only by traps: traps that would have killed or at least maimed any adult trying to get through them; traps that had already cost James a few limbs, in the past few weeks. However, since his body regeneration abilities now took seconds rather than days, only he would ever know the foot or arm he had woken up with this morning would not be the same he would go to bed with tonight. Only he would learn the best way to take on the trap, the next time he came back here.

It would probably take him a lot more times of sneaking out at night to finally make it to the center of the room to stare at the shiny, metal thing, but he knew he could do it. And once he was able to do that, once he finally found a way around the traps and took a good look at Doom's most precious secret toy, he would tell Maya about it. He just had to. There was no reason not to tell her. He trusted her. Nothing that was this hard to get to could be pointless to get. Nothing that cost him this much time and effort could be nothing but crap.

"Crap," the little boy annoyingly spat the bad word he had learned from Maya when he miscalculated the timing of the next trap and saw half of his arm being chopped off by a laser grid. "CRAP!"

Hopefully, Doom would not be here in the next few days to find the trail of blood. He should have brought one of those rags that Maya used on him to clean up blood. He now, begrudgingly, had to cut his fun infiltration short so that he could steal one from the lab before anyone else woke up.

xxxXXXxxx

This was an odd feeling for him; a new sensation, in fact. This was the first time he had ever experienced something like this, but he was certain that this was not something he ever wanted to live through again, no matter how short the sensation had been. Or at least, it was not something he wanted to wake up to once more. The swift feeling of disorientation and the absence of recent and clear memories had been momentarily both crippling and terrifying for him. Shortly after his body had woken up, he had felt panicked that he was not aware of who he was, where he was, or how he had gotten here. However, and after a short whimper on his part, he felt a hand being placed on his chest, pushing him down onto his back. With it, part of his memories returned to him.

"Stay down, Agent," Fury's whispered voice was as authoritative as his regular-sounding one.

Despite his chief's orders, Rhodey pulled himself up, if only partly, by resting some of his weight on his bent right arm. He blinked several times, bit back the feeling of nausea that accompanied the move, took in his surroundings, and then frown as a result of what he saw.

"We broke out the tents?" his voice was a tad hoarse. "Are we… are we in Hungary?"

"No. We're in Vienna."

"V-Vienna?" Rhodey cleared his throat. "Already? That… that was quick."

"Of course, Agent Rhodes," Fury replied, a relieved smile on his face. "That's what happens when one of our own almost dies in battle and passes out for four days."

"WHAT?!"

His body snapped up out of its own accord, almost resembling the movement of a springboard on release. Had this not been the real life, Rhodey was sure that the appropriate sound effect would have accompanied his sudden move.

"I've been passed out for FOUR days?!"

Fury raised a single brow as he stood up from the ground to gather water for the finally conscious soldier. "That's all you caught from my response just now?"

Rhodey's eyes moved left and right as his mind replayed Fury's words. The moment the young man's eyes became as wide as saucers, Fury knew that the other important news had finally made sense to him.

"I almost died?" Rhodey's palms landed on his face, chest, arms and then his legs, patting himself all over as if checking for expected injuries or missing body parts.

"Well, technically, for the logs, you DID die. But since it was only for a few seconds, I'm willing to let it slide. There's no medal of honor waiting for you just yet, Agent Rhodes."

"H-how?" Rhodey shook his head left and right. "I… I feel fine."

"You mean you don't remember the last thing that happened to you?"

Rhodey rubbed circles around his temples with his fingertips, his eyes closed to show his deep thoughts. He took in deep breaths, shook his head once more, and then reality hit him like a slap to the face.

"Frankfurt," James eyes snapped open, "We… were in Frankfurt… the safe house… the rooftop… the… the bombs…"

The missiles, he repeated in his mind. The… grenade…

Rhodey swallowed hard.

"The blast pushed you off the roof," Fury handed the youngster a paper cup filled with water and a couple of medicinal pills – a combination of a painkiller and an antibiotic to keep infections and pain at bay. "Debris hit your head. Knocked you right out."

Rhodey accepted the offering from his superior and held it in his left hand while his right one touched the spot he now recalled had been hit during the explosion. He had half expected to be missing skin there; or, at the very least, to have a large bruise or a gash. To his surprise, however, all he had was a small adhesive bandage he could barely feel being there in the first place.

"Whatever Makluan voodoo medicine Mandarin concocts with his rings, I have to admit that it's remarkably effective."

"It's not Makluan," Rhodey found himself replying. "It's some ancient Chinese remedy. We… we shouldn't have used it yet."

Part of the basic medical supplies each team carried with them included a small jar of what Pepper had aptly named the Miracle Balm. The small amount Gene had had with him had been equally distributed amongst the four teams – to be used only in case of an emergency, and only while Doctor Ross's presence was dispatched to the site of a medical mishap. His eyes and mind told Rhodey that he was more than just OK. They told him that the use – or misuse – of the little quantity of balm they had had in hand had been rather unnecessary.

As if his reading his thoughts, Fury spoke up once more.

"You didn't see yourself after Agent Stane revived you. You looked like a victim of the Z-Gas."

For an instant, Rhodey stared at the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. with surprise, just before said man urged him to swallow down the pills already, with a rapid gesture of his hand. Without a second thought, Rhodey popped the pills inside his mouth and did just that.

"You fell into the river. Drowned. Almost got buried at the bottom of the river, under the concrete debris of buildings we'd been surrounded by. For a second there, I really thought I would have to tell Stark that I had lost his best friend. If it hadn't been for Chameleon jumping into the water as soon as we realized you'd fallen there, and for her using CPR on you even after we told her it was too late, Stark would've ripped me a new one."

Rhodey took a last sip of the water before he angrily crushed the cup in his hand. There he had been, seconds before the attack, disturbed about living a sad and meaningless life, tormenting himself with the possibility of his imminent death, and worrying about the reality of his forgone legacy; all ideas that now seemed nothing but stupid musings to have right before one really did die due to their own lack of attention. At that critical moment, when he had been supposed to be keeping guard, he had been too engrossed reminiscing about the past to the point that the sound of the incoming strike had not been clear to him until it was too late. His lack of attention, albeit if only briefly, had caused them to almost get killed, to lose precious time while tending to him and waiting for him to recover his health and consciousness, and it had also resulted in wasting plenty of their already short-supply of medical provisions. Not to mention, it now made real the abhorrent fact that the only woman that he despised the most in the world, more than Maya Hansen herself, had single-handedly pulled him back from the jaws of the Grim Reaper himself.

"When are we leaving for Hungary?" Rhodey asked, wanting nothing more than to think about anything else other than the debt he now had with the blonde. There were plenty of other questions that were also flooding his mind, such as: how bad had the damage been to the city of Frankfurt, or to the rest of the world? How much had a third bombing changed their plans? Had they received status updates from the other teams? Had they been able to send to base a notification that they were alright and in Vienna? Was Tony mad that they had had the need to unpack the single-use tents before they were supposed to do so?

Had his best female friend, Pepper Potts, finally been found?

All these were valid questions – perhaps even more important than the one he had just asked. Nonetheless, the nasty feeling of preventable remorse, combined with a sense of personal fault that was currently taking hold of his innards, made the Voice of Reason of Team B want to be everything but.

"When?" he repeated once more when he realized that he was yet to receive a response.

"As soon as you can move."

"So, right now?" Rhodey asked as he indignantly pulled away the blanket that had been on him, seconds ago; his eyes firmly locked onto the ground.

"Yeah. I guess so," Fury replied with a shrug, noticing and wondering why the younger man so suddenly appeared to be rather cross. "Right now."

The Head of S.H.I.E.L.D. unceremoniously walked outside the tent to notify the rest of the finally relieved team members that Agent James Rhodes had woken up, was alright, and ready to return to duty ASAP, leaving the Air Force graduate alone inside the shelter, stewing in his livid thoughts.

Whitney Stane had saved him. SAVED him. She had brought him back to life. Team or no team; mission or no mission, the new undeniable truth was just too much too bear for him at the moment.

Damn it all!

Now he owed her one.