ANGST CONTINUES

BIG ANGST

Steve immediately called Brooke and Grant to your room, closing the door behind them to seal your family in, to keep this moment private before all hell broke loose. Anthony was sitting so close to you that he was nearly in your lap, even at his size of a grown man. He had felt the shift in your mood during the call and gotten there faster than he had ever moved before. He didn't want to believe it once he had heard and he had no idea how to process this. Iron Man was never supposed to lose, and for that myth to be completely shattered sucked the confidence out of him in taking up the mantle as the successor to Tony. It felt wrong now.

After almost an hour of complete silence together, Steve stood from the huddled mass of his distraught family. He didn't want to move, but he also didn't want any of you to do the terrible job that he had just assigned himself. "I'll go out and tell the others," Steve offered quietly, stopping at the door to wipe his eyes. "Guys, stay with your mom, okay?"

"You couldn't drag us away, Dad," Grant agreed readily.

Steve purposefully took the longest way to the palace's dining room where the team had all gathered and were waiting for news they would never guess to be true. The thumping, heavy fall of each step shook up into his legs and worked them into an ache; he would turn around and go back if he could, but he had taken this responsibility. He had been a leader of this team with Tony for so many years, he had been the unlikely son-in-law, and he had been a friend. It felt right to be him to do this, but he would jump at the chance for it to be anyone else.

"Sorry to wake everyone," he began softly, "but we just got a call with some bad news that affects all of us. I wanted you to hear it from me before word gets out."

"Okay?" Peter stepped forward, wringing his hands nervously. "Let's have it, Cap."

"(Y/N) spoke to Pepper about an hour ago," he paused with a sniffle he couldn't hold back, "Tony passed away in his sleep."

The silence crushed them as the news began to slowly, painfully sink in. Expressions shifted through comprehension and anger and confusion and grief all within minutes. The entire group stood immobile, other than Pete, who crumbled to sit on the ground next to Rhodey. Tony's best friend wore his usual stoic mask, albeit with a gloss of tears refusing to spill, but it wouldn't last long. As his first words passed through his lips, his throat tightened and squelched his voice, making his deep, confident tone sound like a terrified child who was scared to speak.

"Do we know why? Did Pepper say anything more?"

"Not yet. She said that she would call back later with more information when she had it."

"Where's (Y/N)," Clint joined in. "Is she okay?"

"The kids are with her in our room, and no, she's not," Steve said. "But, that's to be expected. For obvious reasons, Anthony and Esihle's ceremony will have to be delayed, but we're not sure until when-"

Wanda stood and crossed the gap between them, gently holding his arm as she spoke, "of course. Tell us what we need to do. We'll do anything to help."

"Thanks, but this affects all of us, and we need to help each other. I think the first thing is for each of you to tell the younger kids and then we need to help Pepper with damage control. Keep this from the media as long as we can. At least until we can get back home."

"I will have my team handle it," T'Challa offered, "do not consider it a concern."

Towards the back of the room, Sam and Bucky had been uncharacteristically mute. Each of them had been through their share of good and bad with Tony, but now there was nothing left behind but respect and remorse for lost opportunities. "I can't believe it," Sam whispered, "was he sick and not telling us? Did anyone know?"

"Doesn't seem like it," Bucky answered. "Everyone looks pretty shell shocked."

"Hey, Cap," Sam called to his friend, "did you notice anything strange about him lately? Did he maybe say something and we didn't get it?"

"He hadn't been sleeping much, but that's not new," Bruce joined in. "He was spending all of his time in the lab, night...and day..." he stopped. His eyes darted around the room as his mind raced and processed the last weeks, playing out every sight of Tony that he could recall. "Come to think of it, he would never let me in on what he was doing." Turning quickly to head back to his room, the group waited with tense anticipation to hear what Banner was trying to put together. Before he got back, Steve beat him to it.

"Oh, no," the Captain shuddered. "Oh my god, he didn't."

"Didn't what?" Bucky asked for the group.

Bruce hurried back into the room, his fingers tapping frantically over the screen of his tablet. He was trying to link into the home lab's mainframe to get any hint of a clue that he could find. As the seconds ticked by, he became more incensed and upset at his lack of progress. "Parker, hack in."

"I'll do my best, doc."

Steve's foot tapped annoyingly and Bruce chewed on his thumbnail as they waited, sharing the occasional glance towards each other as if they knew what they were about to find. When the tablet was back in the doctor's hands, fears were immediately validated. "It's all here," he muttered, "that son of a bitch."

"What?"

"Self-experimentation. He had a small amount of the same serum that you got, Steve, so he had traces of Iridium too. That's why he was never around Becca once this all started," Bruce groaned and handed the proof to him, "so he could maintain it to experiment on how to neutralize it. With the Iridium gone, once he found the right combination the little serum he had must have broken down and the experimentation took it's toll."

It wasn't lost on anyone, particularly Steve, that Tony had literally given his life for him. Sam had hit the same revelation and looked to his friend with a wash of guilt stealing his resolve to hold back his tears. Tony had given Steve and Bucky their lives back so that their families wouldn't have to suffer the loss. He made sure that you would have Steve, not considering what his own loss would do to you.

"Let's not bring (Y/N) into this until we're absolutely sure."

~~~

Back in your room, your three were still on the bed next to you, but you had made your way under the blankets and curled in, trying to find a comfort that had been lost forever. You weren't present when they looked at you, as if you were nothing more than a shell where (Y/N) used to be. You were mute, refusing to engage in anything they said to you. You barely heard them; there was nothing around you anymore. Everything was grey and your senses had completely shut down to avoid feeling anything.

"Mom, do you want us to go?" Grant tried, getting nothing. He looked to his siblings who offered no help that was any better. "We're just gonna be in the next room if you need us, okay?"

When you didn't so much as blink, your trio took their leave, but they didn't go far. You didn't want them to go, but you had no voice. You had nothing.

"I can't breathe," Brooke panted, "this is too much. I don't think I can do this."

"Brooke, we have to be strong for...M-mom," Anthony tried, but now that they were alone, his own resolve broke, and he sat himself on the floor in his devastation when his body would no longer hold him up. His brother and sister joined him there, sitting on the cool floor together and holding each other, finding that once again, it was their grandfather who got them to see that it would always be the three of them counting on each other.

"We will, Ant," Grant agreed. "As soon as we take this time to remember him like we knew him. The three of us. Together."

~~~

"Grandpa, we can explain-"

"Quiet," Tony barked, "there's nothing you can say to me right now that will explain what we just heard. Do you have even the slightest idea of what you're doing? Did you even once stop to think about how dangerous that would be? Did you stop to think at all?"

"But Mom won't let us-"

"I don't care if your mom won't let you go, because that's her right to make that decision, Brooklyn. As your parent, that's up to her and not you. You are seven years old. Seven. I don't want to hear one word about how much more advanced you are, alright? You're still only seven, end of story."

"We promise," Anthony tried now, "we thought that Mom knew, Grandpa. We would have told her but we thought that Dad did."

"That doesn't matter, Ant. You should have talked to them both together, because you know that they both have a say in what happens to you three. Talking to your dad alone was a way for you guys to play one against the other if you didn't get your way, and don't try to argue that it wasn't. I was your age once, and I know exactly how to play that game. Do you know how disappointed I am right now?"

His only reply was silence, the children looking at each other with a guilt in their expressions that they didn't want him to see. She tried to hold it in, but a quiet sniffle escaped Brooklyn's nose and Grant wiped a quick pass over his eyes with his sleeve.

"You saw how much it hurt her that you didn't come to her. Now can you imagine the pain she would be in if you went through with your genius plan to sneak out, not knowing where you were, or if you were safe? It would kill her."

Again, only a heavy silence filled the room as he stood steady, his arms crossed tightly to keep his hands from shaking. He hated every second of this; he wanted to pick them all up and hug them, to tell them that it was all okay and he forgave them, but he couldn't. His own pain wasn't being relived, so he wasn't ready to relive theirs just yet.

"You guys know that I love you beyond words, right? I'd die without a second thought to keep you safe."

"We know, Grandpa," Anthony whispered softly.

"You're my grandkids, and I love you so much. But your mother is my kid, and I'm not going to stand by and let anyone hurt her, do you understand me?"

"Yes," Brooklyn agreed.

"Good. You're grounded for the next week. No tech, no access to FRIDAY, no leaving the building. Bedtime will be an hour earlier, and once you're in your rooms for the night, you stay there. I'll have FRIDAY lock down your joining doors if I have to," he ordered, looking to each of them individually. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Grant answered for the group. "We're sorry."

Tony's shoulders dropped, finally allowing himself to breathe and feel the remorse at how firm he had to be with them. He shook his head and took a few steps forward, leaning down to press a kiss to each blonde head before ushering them each back to their own rooms and saying his goodnights. He turned off the final light and closed Anthony's door without another word, waiting for the definitive click to tell him it was fully shut before sliding himself down the wall to sit on the floor. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he sat that way for nearly an hour, silently letting the anger and pain go, trying to get the image of their sorrowful little faces out of his mind.

"Dammit," he whispered painfully, "I'm sorry too, guys."