I Thought You Were Different: Part 5

Mine

Several minutes passed after that terrible moment, with Brooklyn crying as she knelt next to her fallen parents and brothers, and with Tony sitting in stunned silence as the world continued to burn around him. He didn't know who else had made it out, and a part of him didn't care. Pepper was gone, you were dead, Steve was dead, his grandsons were gone, and he didn't know if he could be anything to Brooke with the lack of soul that he was carrying. He could never raise her now, as this shell of a man, this hollow façade of a grandfather. He could try, and he would if he must, but the shadow of your own childhood would be the bar that he would measure her by in his grief, and that wasn't fair to her in the least. Nothing would be fair ever again.

"No," Tony said flatly, emphatically shaking his head and unable to process what he was seeing. His eyes were fixed on you, but his empty focus was looking through you and to something beyond that only he could see. He was unable to process this loss, and just as unwilling. "No, this won't happen. I can...I can fix this."

"Grandpa, come on," Brooklyn tried, wiping away her tears and standing up to pull on his arm, but he wouldn't budge.

"I can fix it," he continued as if she had said nothing, taking the Gauntlet and raising his hand into the air, "with this. I can fix all of it. Baby, you can have your mom and dad back. I can give you that. Anthony and Grant..."

"Tony, no," she warned harshly, in a tone that echoed your own voice, using his proper name in the hopes of jolting him back to reality, "this isn't right. You don't know what you're doing. That's power that you can't control, trust me. I've seen it in a way that you haven't, and you have to believe me. Please, put the Gauntlet down. Mom wouldn't want you to."

"I can't let them die, Brooke. Not if I have a way to make it right again. You told me that I can fix anything, remember? When we almost lost your mom? Well now I really can, and I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you can't stop me. Nothing can stop me anymore." He turned away and looked at you, his expression dropping and falling into a heavy sadness, his eyes so tired and wet with tears. But mere seconds later when he looked back, her grandfather was gone, replaced by a darkness swirling through him, and a blank stare that left her cold with fear.

"Nothing will ever stop me from making my (Y/N) happy."

~~~

Tony hated moments like this, standing at the door with a bag packed and in hand, looking at you with pain in his eyes that you refused to believe was really there; you never once believed that he felt as bad as he really did when he had to leave, and he didn't know how to convince you so he didn't bother to try anymore. His life was full of business trips, meetings that extended into all-night sessions, and experiences around the world that he wished he could share, but the chasm between you both had grown too wide.

"I'll be home in two days," he called out to you, looking up to where you stood on the level above in your Malibu home. "Is there anything you want me to bring back for you? I'll be in a desert and all, but I might be able to find something-"

"No."

"Okay..." he sighed. His hand tightened around the handle of his bag, a reflex but one that conveyed how he felt when he didn't want his expression to give it away to you. He was sad, yes, but more than that, he was pissed. He was pissed that you had become such a spoiled, petulant little shit, and that he had no one to blame but himself. He tried to play it off on your age, but he couldn't deny that he had turned you into a true Stark without really trying; how could he not when it was all he knew how to be?

"I'm staying at a friend's house anyway," you announced flatly, "so JARVIS can tell me when you're home."

"Excuse me, young lady. How about if you ask me if you can stay at a friend's house instead of telling me?"