Tony woke up with a sneeze and instantly regretted his life choices because his head hurt and his throat ached in a way that just screamed that he was about to get hit with the worst cold of his life. Had Steve been there, he would have teased him about it but he wasn't, he was still tracking down those responsible for the failed kidnapping. After almost a week, he was a lot closer but that still meant he was on the move and it was starting to take its toll on both his husband and daughter.

"Daddy," whispered Emmy, pulling lightly on the covers of the bed, not quite tall enough to climb on but clearly wanting attention. "Daddy."

Tony groaned, his head pounding even at that slight sound of his daughters voice. His limbs ached, his head pounded, the room refused to stay still long enough for him to get his bearings, it was just too much. He shut his eyes and ground his palms into them as if that would help everything settle to a more bearable level. It didn't do a thing.

Emmy ran out of the room when she didn't get an answer from her father and searched for someone who was big enough to get his attention. She couldn't find anyone in the house and almost panicked until she remembered that they had all gone to the nearby town for shopping. Just as Emmy was starting to wonder how on earth she was going to get her fathers attention, the door opened, letting in a gust of cold air, snow, and Natasha.

"Hello," said Natasha when she shut the door, eyeing the youngest member of her adopted family, not entirely sure how the girl would react. "Your Papa is still on the trip with Uncle Bruce. I hurt my head and needed a break."

Emmy didn't say anything, just stared up at Natasha.

"So, where is everyone?" asked Natasha after a minute.

Emmy looked thoughtful, as if she were trying to decide how much she trusted Natasha, until she finally came to a decision. She walked up to the assassin, took her hand, turned, and started walking back to the bedroom that held her father. Natasha hardly dared to breathe as she followed the toddler; Emmy had never touched her before. Emmy, for her part, seemed to be just as unsure as Natasha, almost as if she were waiting for the other woman to change her mind and pull away or worse. But she didn't and they made it to the room without incident.

When Natasha spotted Tony on the bed, flushed and groaning softly to himself, she knew exactly what was wrong. Tony rarely got sick but when he did, he committed with a gusto most only dreamed of having towards anything. No one was surprised, Tony Stark-Rogers did nothing in halves, but it was still unfortunate that he couldn't make an exception for this.

"Tones," said Natasha softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing her hand on Tony's forehead, cringing at how warm it was. "What hurts?"

"Everything," coughed Tony, leaning into Natasha's cool hand. "I'm dying."

"I doubt that," said Natasha drily, a small smile tugging at her lips. "But you are well on your way to pneumonia if that cough is any indication. I'll call the others so they can pick some stuff up while they're out and make you some tea. Stay here."

"I'm too weak to move anyway."

"Baby."

Emmy watched from the ground, very unhappy at still being ignored.

"Daddy," said Emmy, crossing her arms.

"Daddy's sick," said Natasha. "Would you like to help me make some tea?"

Natasha held out a hand to the young girl who took a step back the instant the woman had moved her hand, clearly afraid of being hit.

"Emmy," said Natasha, sitting on the ground in front of the little girl, back to the bed. "I'm going to tell you something and I need you to listen. I am a very dangerous person but I promise you that I will never hurt you and I will hurt anyone who tries to hurt you. You don't have to believe me right now, I know you won't, but I will keep telling you as much as you want, as often as you need, until you know it's true."

Emmy didn't make eye contact with Natasha but the assassin knew she was listening; the little girl was always listening.

"I'm going to put you on the bed with your Daddy, okay?" said Natasha.

She waited with her hands out a bit until Emmy gave a tiny nod, then lifted the light girl onto the bed. Instantly, Emmy wriggled away from Natasha and to the safety of her fathers side.

"Hey Ducky," said Tony, his voice rough. "You being good for Auntie Natasha?"

The way Emmy looked at him, her eyes so wide and sad, made him remember that one day, the one he had put as far from his mind as possible, the one that – while necessary for his life to have turned out the way it did – was still too painful for him to really think about.

He was in the workshop, again, working for longer than he could remember, again, when he finally surfaced for more coffee.

"Pull up my calendar, J," said Tony while he waited for the coffee machine to brew his coffee.

"Right away, sir," said JARVIS.

The calendar pulled up, lighting up with different colored labels. It was a color coding system that combined what Pepper thought was important and what he deemed as important and then combined them. Anything personal were different shades of purple, Avengers business stayed different shades of red, Stark Industries business had claimed all the blues, and everything else was any variation of orange. On the calendar there was only one thing, it was bright purple and flashing. Flashing was never good.

"Um, JARVIS?" said Tony. "Why is there a flashing purple thing that you didn't remind me of?"

"Miss Potts refused to let me remind you," said JARVIS, sounding upset. "She wanted you to remember on your own."

"So what is the purple thing?" asked Tony, his stomach dropping.

"It is dinner with Miss Potts," said Tony. "You missed it."

"Damn," said Tony. "Okay well, where did she go? I can go apologize and-"

"She moved out," said JARVIS.

"That's not possible," said Tony with a scoff. "She has all of her things in our apartment. It would take her ages to move it all out. Besides, it's just a dinner."

"She had everything packed and ready to go for several weeks," said JARVIS, his voice regretful. "Dinner was the final straw."

"She, she what?" said Tony. "She….left?"

"Yes."

For several hours, Tony wandered around the tower, almost in a daze. He wasn't trying to find Pepper, exactly. He knew they were having some issues, knew she didn't like his Avengers projects, didn't like him dropping everything for a call to assemble, missing meetings and dates, didn't like that he had converted two floors into one giant one with rooms for all his teammates to stay plus an open invitation for them to go. There was a lot she didn't like but Tony hadn't thought that she would, that she would leave. He thought she would at least talk to him first, she knew how he was with people leaving.

Not good. Not good at all. Tony didn't do well with people leaving.

"Tony, you okay?" asked Clint.

"Yeah," said Tony, his voice dull. "Why?"

"Because you're currently laying in the middle of the pit, watching The Fellowship of the Ring extended edition," said Clint. "That's your sulking movie."

"I like the part where Frodo gets stabbed," said Tony softly. "I know how he feels."

"JARVIS?" asked Clint, settling down next to Tony in the sunken pit that was filled with pillows and blankets, a huge screen on the ceiling so they could lay down while watching movies together.

"Miss Potts moved out without notice this evening," said JARVIS, the disdain for his creators former girlfriend clear in his voice.

"Code Gold," said Clint.

"Noted."

Within ten minutes, all of the Avengers were in the pit, watching Lord of the Rings and eating white chocolate covered popcorn.

"You guys should go," whispered Tony as the third movie began.

"No thanks," said Steve, his chest rumbling pleasantly under Tony's head.

"Seriously," said Tony.

"Shut up, this is my favorite part," said Natasha.

"We're not going anywhere," whispered Bruce.

"That means you too, Natasha," said Clint. "No killing anyone's ex girlfriend."

"Spoil sport," grumbled Natasha, though she curled in closer to Tony's left side, being sure that she was the one who blocked his weaker side.

They stayed like that the entire night, watching movie after movie that was on Tony's playlist for when he was upset. All of them were action movies because if he was upset he wanted to watch things blow up. The billionaire was tense, waiting for one of them to leave, to wander off, get bored or have something else they needed to do, but none of them ever did. It was one of the worst nights in Tony's life but also one of the best because it was the night Pepper had walked out on him but it was also the night he had realized that the Avengers had transformed from just a team he was on to a family he was a part of.

"I'm leaving this right here," said Natasha, setting down a steaming mug on the bedside table. "You're going to drink it when it's cooler. Do you understand?"

Tony nodded. Emmy studied him a bit longer before cautiously, as if she was afraid of being rejected, leaning over and kissing Tony's forehead like he had done to her every night before she fell asleep and every time he was going to work. A huge smile broke over Tony's face.

"Thank you, Emmy," said Tony. "Now I need to get some sleep or Papa is going to be very disappointed in me. Can you go with Auntie Natasha for a while? Please?"

Emmy nodded and wriggled off the bed. Natasha waited until Emmy was firmly on the ground before she started walking out of the room, instructing Tony to call if he needed anything.

In the living room, Emmy sat on the floor and started taking apart the lamp. She had it apart in seconds; she had become very good at taking things apart, mainly because Steve didn't mind and Tony only encouraged her. She wasn't destructive, she just liked to see how it worked.

A knock sounded on the door. Emmy jumped up and ran to the door, hoping it would be her Papa coming home. However, she was still too small to reach the doorknob, so she waited not entirely patiently for Natasha to open the door. When she did, she found herself looking down the barrel of a gun.

"Come with us quietly and no one gets hurt," said the man. "Say a word and I'll shoot the kid."

*I cut my hand with a knife. Always - Ari