Thor; Lady N is sorry for the late update. She had a major writer block. And right now she's laughing in the background for such excuse.

Tony; when actually she was weeping after the Iron Man 3 trailer. Hehehehehe.

Bruce: She is supporting his textbook narcissism. I'm DONE.

Rhodey; You're just mad cause she loves him more.

Bruce: I'm not. If I am, I would turn to a hulk, right here, right now.

Thor; Lady N own none of The Avengers. She only own her imagination.

*Mention of sexual abuse.

Chapter 12-Heart

The pain in his chest intensified. It happened quite a lot recently since Homecoming. Sometimes, the pain became so unbearable that he passed out. Fortunately, the couple of times he passed out were at home, and not in the school, so nobody except Jarvis knew.

Tony reached for one of the device on his worktable. He put his thumb on the device, and the small pin on the device pricked his thumb, drawing a drop of his blood.

"Blood toxicity -19%" Jarvis monotonic voice spoke up. "It has increased 3% since last week. I'm afraid your palladium core is the initial cause of your blood poisoning."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony waved the AI's voice off. "But haven't got other choice, have I?" He questioned the AI, his hand reaching for the box on the worktable.

"Another core depleted," Jarvis informed as Tony replaced the small palladium circuit in his arc-reactor. The old palladium circuit was melting and smoking on its end. "It appears that the condition worsen when you didn't get enough rest."

Tony snorted. "What is rest?"

The AI started showing the structure of the arc-rector on the screen. "Your body requires rest, Mr. Stark, and you often don't get enough 6-hours sleep. It also seemed that your experiment with the Iron Man suit burns the palladium core pretty quickly."

"This never had been an issue until now," Tony muttered, lifting up his Black Sabbath t-shirt. Pale skin around the arc-reactor highlighted the veins underneath. He felt sick looking at how protruded the veins looked.

"You never had an arc-reactor in your chest before," Jarvis reasoned.

Tony sighed, "Fair enough." The pain in his chest lessened after he replaced the palladium core.

"I suggest you start a regular routine to get 6 hours sleep."

"Meh," he grunted starting to fiddle with the motherboard on his worktable.

"Mr. Stark –"

Tony turned his head, annoyed. "Jarvis, I'm trying to do my work here."

The AI flustered. "Miss Potts is at the door. Should I let her in or should I tell her that you're coming out?"

Tony glanced at the door of his lab. Sure enough, Pepper stood there –smiling and waving at him. He waved back and gestured with his hand for Pepper to wait for a minute.

"Mr. Stark, I suggest Miss Potts should be informed of your conditi-"

"Mute," Tony demanded and the AI made no more noises. "Lock the lab, Jarv. I'm going out."

He went to the door, leaving his works scattered on the worktable.

"Hi," Pepper greeted as he met her at the door. "How are you? You look pale. Should we cancel the plan?"

Her fingers reached for his cheek, startled by how cold his skin was. She had a worried look in her eyes and Tony's stomach clenched. He couldn't tell Pepper, he had let her worrying for him enough all this time.

"Nah, I'm good," he brushed her hand off softly.

Besides, looking into Pepper's eyes, it had taken all the pain away.

Bruce was perched on one of the stools at the counter of the diner where his mom worked in. His nose was buried in his notebook; it seemed he had a lot to write down these days. His mom worked as a waitress at the diner and currently having her break in the kitchen.

His cell phone beeped a text from Elizabeth.

Hey, what are you doing :) -Ross

Bruce smiled. I'm at the diner, doing my homework –Banner

Oh, okay. Don't wanna bother you -Ross

Bruce raised an eyebrow. It was so unlike Elizabeth. But he shrugged it off and continued writing in his notebook. A few moments later, the diner bell chimed and Bruce felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, and saw Elizabeth smiling brightly at him.

"Hi!" She greeted, waving her hand.

Bruce took off his glasses. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Meet you, of course! I just texted you to make sure you are at the diner," Elizabeth smiled. She took a seat next to Bruce. "I'm bored."

"Peggy?"

"She got a date," Elizabeth pouted, "wouldn't tell me who she's going out with."

Bruce's mom appeared from the kitchen. She wiped her hands on the hankie that hung from the pocket of her apron. "Oh, hi Elizabeth," Mrs. Banner greeted. Elizabeth had come over to the diner a couple of times and Mrs. Banner had taken a liking to her. "Want anything?"

"I'm good," Elizabeth smiled. "How are you, Mrs. Banner?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Mrs. Banner replied. She picked up her notebook and pencil. "You two talk. I have a plenty of works to do," she said, walking off to take orders from her tables.

Bruce looked at Elizabeth. "So, what you wanna do? It's pretty boring for you to sit down in the diner all afternoon."

Elizabeth's hand reached for a scrap of paper from Bruce's file. "I don't know. Maybe we could hang out at the park."

"Wait a second, I'll tell my mom," Bruce said, putting his stuff in his messenger bag. "Where's she?"

Bruce and Elizabeth craned their necks, looking for Mrs. Banner's small figure. Finally Bruce spotted her, writing down orders from a guy in his early forties.

"There she is," Bruce said, "You wait here, I'm going to talk to her for a moment."

Elizabeth followed Bruce's eyes and her gaze landed on Mrs. Banner's customer. Her blue eyes widened. "Bruce," she reached for Bruce's hand. "Can we just go now and text your mom later?"

Bruce looked at his hand, twined with Elizabeth tight grip. "Uh, why?"

Elizabeth's eyes still locked on the man Mrs. Banner attended. The man somehow noticed their gaze on him and looked back. His hazel eyes locked on Elizabeth, and he gave her a smirk. "Just please," Elizabeth begged, her hand tightened around Bruce.

"Okay," Bruce said awkwardly.

He quickly went out of the diner, with Elizabeth in tow. Bruce mounted on his bike, with Elizabeth perched on the bar. He started pedaling his bike to the Central Park. Elizabeth's arms wrapped around his waist and she was sobbing quietly on his chest –not that he knew why. They arrived at the park, and Elizabeth led him to a spot under a tree.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Want to tell me what's going on back there?"

Elizabeth sniffled on his shoulder for a moment. "I don't think I could," she said. "I couldn't."

She laid her head on Bruce's lap, seemingly unaware of Bruce's discomfort of physical contact. Bruce awkwardly carded his fingers through her hair, humming some tune. She was still silently crying, and Bruce let her. Elizabeth was so shaken and Bruce didn't know what to do. Her emotion changed so quickly and Bruce hadn't had a slightest clue.

"The man you saw in the diner -Emil Blonsky, he's my father's best-friend," Elizabeth finally spoke up.

"What happened?" Bruce asked. "Why do you seem so afraid to see him?"

Elizabeth sniffled and sat up next to Bruce. "It happened a long time ago," she cried quietly, laying her head on Bruce's shoulder. "He used to… touch me… when I was a kid."

"He what?" Anger bubbled in Bruce's chest. What the hell?

"He used to… touch me," Elizabeth repeated shakily. "And he… threatened me."

Bruce put his arm around her shoulder. "What did he told you?"

"He said, if I tell my father, he'll make sure something bad happen," she confided.

Bruce hugged Elizabeth. This was a side of Elizabeth he had never seen. She always seemed so fearless and cheerful that no one could ever tell if she was having a bad day. She was so shaken and afraid that Bruce felt the urge to protect her like his mom. Though it happened before he'd even know her, he felt useless.

"I'm not going to say its fine, cause it's not," Bruce tried to console. "But you have me now if something like that happen again."

"Thanks Bruce," Elizabeth murmured. "Can you promise me something?"

He looked at her. "What?"

"Do not tell anyone."

"Alright," he nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

She gave him a small smile. "Sure."

"When you met, what is your first impression of me?"

"Quiet, science-geek, probably gay," Elizabeth said honestly, which made Bruce raised his eyebrow. "Levelheaded. Intelligent. Content, happy. Cute."

He smiled. "Cute, I'm not sure. Probably gay –no. I'm not gay," he laughed. "Content and happy? Sometimes. You see Elizabeth, I'm also messed up. Really messed up. You see my mom –she's all smiles, but the truth is she is also as messed up."

"Bruce?"

"You know why I never mentioned my father?" When Elizabeth shook her head, Bruce continued, "I hate to admit it, but I hate him. He is my father but I hate him. He always get drunk and when he's home –if he's not sleeping, he abused my mom, emotionally and physically. I cannot remember a time when he was sober and nice. He just never."

She widened her eyes. "So that's why you were all bruised before the Homecoming."

"Yeah," he smiled sheepishly. "My mom never let my father lay his hand on me. She always had me in my room while she took all the beatings from my dad. But that time, I just couldn't let him. So I took her place. I am his son, and he didn't even blink an eye when he beat the shit out of me. My friends never know. And I don't know why I told you, but it feels good to let out all the mess in my head."

Elizabeth kissed his cheek. "It's okay Bruce. You got me now. You can tell me anything."

"Thanks Betty."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "What was it? What did you just call me?"

"Betty. It has a ring to your name," Bruce explained sheepishly. "Elizabeth is too mouthful."

Elizabe- Betty laughed. She snuggled closer to Bruce as Bruce draped an arm around her. They sat there, watching people passing by. There was no word spoken between them. Bruce might even overcome his fear of physical contact after all –not even feeling nervous with Betty very close to him. Instead he felt calm and collected, as if Betty had become his solace.

Just for a moment, they weren't the persons others sees them. They weren't the fearless, cheerful and brilliant persons the others thought.

They were just a girl and a boy, with dark past and present, scarred with bad memories that were hidden in the presence of their friends.

They were just two messed-up people, finding peace in each other's company on a Sunday afternoon.

Steve and Peggy walked out of Brooklyn Museum. After Homecoming, he had rather nervously asked her out of date. And she had brightly agreed. And they chose Brooklyn to avoid being seen by their friends, especially Steve who wanted to avoid the early-stage of his relationship sabotaged by Tony. Knowing Tony, he would probably spill it to the whole school and grilled Steve about Peggy.

They made their way to the nearest Starbucks. Steve, being a gentleman, asked Peggy to take a seat while he purchased their drinks. A Java chip Frappucino for her and Hot chocolate for him. He set down their drinks and a Turkey Rustico Panini as he took a seat across her.

"What's next?" Steve asked, raising his eyebrow.

Peggy shrugged. "I don't know. You're the one who supposed to be the pro. You said you were from Brooklyn."

"Eh," Steve smiled, "how about Coney Island?"

"Fine by me," Peggy sipped her Frapuccino. "I'd never take you as a beach-kind of guy."

"What? I love nature; they make great inspiration for arts."

They continue enjoying their drinks and Panini, until a girl about ten-years old came with a Polaroid camera in her hand. She wore thick glasses and had a smile plastered on her face.

"Hello, I am Meredith," the girl greeted. "Can I take your picture? It's for my art class, and you two look good for a picture."

Steve looked at Peggy, who crouched down to the girl and smiled, "Of course. How do you want us to pose?"

"Just look casual, like you two are having an ordinary afternoon," Meredith asked politely.

They posed; Peggy crossed her legs and sipped her Frap while Steve looked at her from the corner of his eyes, one elbow on the table. Meredith took two photographs of them, one for her and the other for Steve and Peggy.

"Thank you," Meredith said, handing a photograph at Peggy. "You two look like you just stepped out of an old movie my mom watch."

Steve smiled. "You're welcome. Good luck for your art class."

"Thank you!" Meredith said once again, this time running toward a woman who was waiting for her at the end of the street; probably her mom.

Peggy handed Steve the photograph. It was great actually. Like Meredith said, they looked like they just stepped out of an old movie.

"You can keep it," Peggy said.

"You don't like the photo?"

Peggy grinned. "You'll need inspiration for your arts."

"Thanks."

They took a cab to Coney Island, quietly enjoying the ride. At the beach, Steve took off his leather jacket and gestured for Peggy to sat down. She smiled gratefully, not wanting to ruin her white dress. Steve sat next to her, putting on his aviator shades.

"You never been to a date, do you?" Peggy asked suddenly.

Steve grinned. "Nope, the girls are not lining up to chat up with a guy who nervously stutters- what makes you think they want to go out with me?"

"I don't know, a girl who understood that you were nervous?"

"That's not the only reason," Steve shook his head sheepishly. "It's kind of embarrassing to admit, actually."

Peggy raised a perfect curved eyebrow at him, "Come on, you can tell me."

Steve chuckled, "It's highly embarrassing."

"Tell me anyway."

"Okay," Steve relented. "But you can't laugh."

Peggy held up a hand, as if she was taking an oath, "Promise."

"Hmm, well," Steve cleared his throat. "I took chastity oath."

Peggy gaped. "Whoa," she smiled widely.

"I mean, I know it's kind of old-fashioned. But I like the way it works, the whole thing about it."

"It's cool," her eyes widened. "It is… chivalrous."

Steve let out a sigh. "Tony often jokes about that. I guess it safer bet for me, since I am kind of shy around girls. But just because I'm the only who does it among my friends doesn't mean I'm the only who believe in it, right?"

"My mom always said; wrong is wrong even if everyone is doing it and right is right, even there's nobody doing it," Peggy placated. "Besides, the thing you believe in, it's a good one."

"You know, you're much like my childhood friend," Steve said, changing the topic. "Bucky. He's like you. He always defended me, and supported my ideas. He's like a big brother to me –since I was this scrawny weak kid who often got bullied."

Peggy nodded in understanding. "That's why you have confident issues."

"Pretty much."

Natasha took Alexei's hand as he offered. They were taking a stroll around Fifth Avenue, to get some coffee and window shopping. After Homecoming- winning the title Homecoming King and Queen, it was a perfect excuse for them to start dating. Besides, Alexei was a good guy and their family was close.

Except Natasha's heart was somewhere else.

Since she started dating Alexei, the old silent-war thing had been going on again with Clint. Except this time, Clint started it. He talked to Natasha but not as often, and tended to avoid her on regular basis. Clint made her confuse.

"Here?" Alexei stopped in front of a coffee shop –Andrew's Coffee Shop, "or you have someplace else in mind?"

Natasha smiled. "This will do."

Across the street, Clint was watching the couple. He was leaning against the wall, Oakley shades covering his eyes and the hood of his vest was up, to remain unrecognizable. His head bowed down, just enough to keep his eyes leveled on Natasha and Alexei.

This is absurd, his mind whispered.

He didn't want do this, stalking Natasha like a crazy ex. But he had to, he had an insecure feeling to watch over Natasha and make sure she was happy with Alexei. But the decision kind of a bad one. Sure, he wanted to make sure Natasha was safe. But he didn't want to see Natasha's happy smile while holding hands with that Shostakov guy.

It broke his heart.

But Clint figured it was his fault too. He was the coward who could never tell his true feelings toward Natasha. It wasn't Natasha's fault if she dated Alexei. She was never aware of Clint's feelings.

His cell phone rang. It was Barney.

"Barney, I'm in the middle of-"

"Stalking Natasha?" Barney cut him off. It wasn't what Clint was meant to say, but Barney knew what was going on –whether Clint told him or not- so there was no use to lie. "Whatever. Nana wants you to pick up some milk, eggs and potatoes."

"Fine," Clint rolled his eyes. "Anything else?"

"Get me some Gatorade."

Clint snorted. "Get it yourself."

"You're the one who's doing the shopping."

"Ha-ha. Fuck you."

Barney sighed. "Clinton Francis…"

"Fine," Clint answered, dragging the 'e'. He ended the call.

Looks like his mission was going to be aborted.

"Pep, I'm going to the toilet," Tony said. "Can you get the tickets?"

Pepper nodded. "Sure."

Tony handed some money to Pepper. Pepper tried to push it, but Tony forced it into her hand. He made his way to the toilet. After finishing his business, he went to the sink. His face looked deathly pale in the mirror and his palms felt cold, even without the cold water running over his hands. He stared into his brown eyes in the mirror. He looked very sick.

Fuck this, he cursed in his mind, his hands resting on the either side of the sink. I'm going to find the cure. Now, I just want to enjoy the movie with Pepper.

His StarkPhone beeped. A text. Probably Pepper, wanting to know why he had been gone for so long. He reached for his StarkPhone inside his sweater pocket. A text from a blocked number.

What the heck?

Before you proceed with your life, palladium in the chest is a painful way to die, Tony. The text read. No initials, nothing that could signify its sender.

Tony splashed his face with the cold water. Who the fuck sent the message? Whatever, I'm going to have Jarvis help me later.

Someone knew he was dying, and made it a joke.

It was no joke.

He was dying –again. And he was conscious to debate the idea of his death.

"I'm going to die," he whispered to his reflection, eyes cold and hard as a stone.

Steve; Pepper is so not going to know this.

Rhodey; Of course not. She's going to cry her eyes out.

Steve: Seriously? Why N keeps killing Tony?

Rhodey: I thought you hate him.

Steve: Ha-ha.

Bruce: I hope N steps on a Lego –barefoot. Murderer and sadist. Psychopath!

Steve: This is not because of Elizabeth, I hope.

Bruce: It is *scratches head*

N: *eyerolls* I'm not a psychopath. I am a high-functioning sociopath, do your research.