You left ice in my veins when you went away.

When Steve was alive in his own time anything written on his skin was placed there in his own hand. He grew up believing there was no one out there for him, writing to someone who didn't exist. It was his greatest pain in life and his greatest comfort as he welcomed death.

When Tony was born he was born cold, ice around his little heart and ink so thick, a lifetime's worth of messages, scribbled across his tiny arms it took years before they faded.

How could a clear tragedy ever end in a happy ending?