"What the hell happened here?"

Tony's head snapped up from his shoes when he heard Bruce exclaim loudly, his hand pressed against the window of the Quinjet as it flew over New York City, heading for the compound upstate.

The Avengers had been gone from Earth for three months by the time they'd finally completed the mission they'd travelled to another planet for, thankfully returning with everybody in good health, nothing more than a few cuts and bruises to keep the memories firm.

Tony had thought about Sasha every single day while he'd been gone. Part of him despised himself for leaving her, knowing just how much it killed her to have him walk out of the door not knowing if he'd return alive or not, but there had been no other option.

He'd missed her achingly, a constant pull on his heart strings that felt like his soul was being slowly drawn from his body through the soles of his feet made it hard for him to walk most days, though he found strength in the dream of seeing her face again.

Every day that passed, Tony saw as one step closer to being reunited with Sasha, despite ultimately not knowing when they'd return. Things had turned dark on the mission, many narrow escapes from death by himself and others, moments of uncertainty and unity in a matter of minutes, each of them doing whatever it takes to end the war raging on their planet.

And by the time June rolled around, The Avengers thought they'd succeeded, destroying the dark forces that wreaked havoc on their earth and it's people, only to return to a disaster zone.

Everybody joined Bruce at the window, staring down at the Brooklyn Bridge with a third of it missing, a gaping hole where a piece of New York history once stood. There were buildings demolished and construction sites all over the city, a clean up job had clearly taken place, but damage had been irreparable so far.

Tony felt his heart drop, as if it had stopped beating all together. He'd smiled more that day that he had done in his whole life, the thought of being able to take Sasha into his arms and hold her so tightly he'd never let go fuelled him with an undying amount of positivity that radiated into the rest of the team, laughing and joking with one another now knowing they could finally rest.

Only their dream was short lived, bliss being drowned in a tsunami of resent as they flew over a city torn apart.

The Quinjet landed at the compound and Tony was the first to descend onto the tarmac, pulling a pair of red-lensed glasses from the pocket of his jeans and tapping the frame.

"FRIDAY, talk to me."

With urgency, Tony paced towards the compound, fists balled and knuckles white. He truthfully didn't care what had happened, not in that moment, all he wanted to know was if Sasha was alive, the ruin they'd looked down on upon their return to Earth surely taking more lives than anybody wanted to hear about.

"Recent news reports suggest there was another attack from the same invaders as last time. According to the articles, the beings were destroyed by Wanda Maximoff, Doctor Stephen Strange, and Spider-Man, amongst others."

"The kid? Oh God, not the kid."

Tony clenched his jaw with angst as his stomach sank, anxiety wrapped around his veins like barbed wire around a fence, slicing him bitterly with his own feelings.

"Call Sasha Coulson, now."

"Calling Sasha Coulson."

Tony double tapped his chest, nanotech deploying his suit of armour in seconds as he continued to walk away from everyone else, ignoring their calls and shouts.

"Tony would you just hang on a minute?" Natasha shouted, leading the group that were frantically on his tail as he continued to walk further away, disappearing into his suit.

Spinning on his heels, Tony looked at his friends, saying nothing before taking off into the sky, heading back down towards the city.

"Miss Coulson is currently unavailable, boss."

"Then try again," he said, "And keep trying until she answers. Get me the kid's location."

"As you wish."

The journey down towards Manhattan wasn't long, but the destruction below him made it feel never ending. There was police tape everywhere, roads fenced off and houses torn to pieces, entire neighbourhoods turned to piles of dust.

Tony tried to prepare himself for the worst, though as he tried to weave some kind of stability into his mind, he couldn't even bring himself to imagine a fatality, the thought of something happening to Sasha being too painful and sickening to toy with.

The call to Sasha failed again on the fourth try and as Tony flew across the city towards Sasha's apartment building, Friday interrupted his path.

"Peter Parker is showing at the NewYork-Presbyterian hospital, Mr Stark."

Tony drew in a sharp breath as he changed his flight course immediately, switching directions without even a second of hesitation despite the sickness that had been growing in his stomach feeling like it was flooding his entire body.

He arrived just moments later, his suit retracting, leaving him in a pair of torn jeans and a stained black jacket, his glasses returning to his pocket.

Having no idea about what he was going to walk in and see, Tony swallowed his nerves and headed inside the hospital, wide-eyed like a terrified child after a bad dream, he approached the front desk.

"Can I help you, Sir?"

Tony cleared his throat, looking down at the woman who was far too busy working to take any notice of who he was, or care.

"Peter Parker, o-or Sasha Coulson. What room, please?"

The woman sighed and spent a few agonisingly long seconds scrolling on a trackpad, her eyes narrowed at a monitor while she scanned for the names, eventually nodding to herself.

"Sasha Coulson. What relation are you? I have to ask, security reasons."

Tony felt frozen when the receptionist spoke her name. He'd pretty much banned all of The Avengers from even so much as mentioning her name while they were away because it caused him too much pain, such a simple thing leaving him wallowing in a dungeon of worry and pity, desperation he couldn't claw his way out of when he was so, so far away from his only salvation.

"I'm her boyfriend."

"Room 537, fifth floor."

Tony thanked her and headed towards the staircase, not being able to wait for an elevator. His heart was thumping so hard he was afraid his ribs would shatter, a sickness made his head dizzy and his eyes blurry as he climbed the stairs, the number 5 seeming like it was 500 as he continued to make his way up.

With his eyes darting in every direction, Tony paced narrowly down a long hallway, glancing at the numbers on every door. People walked past with cannulas in their arms and bandages holding what looked like their entire bodies together, and although Tony felt an immense sense of guilt that he wasn't there to protect the poor citizens of New York, he felt more guilty about not protecting just one in particular.

Tony paused outside room 537. The blinds were pulled close and the door was shut, his hand hovering above the handle as a force he couldn't see refrained him from touching it.

"It's going to be alright," Tony whispered to himself, nodding once before gently twisting the handle and pushing open the door.

Sasha lay sleeping, at least Tony prayed she was asleep. Drips were hooked up to her arm and the back of her hands and her shoulder was wrapped in a sling, a thick square of bandage covered a wound on her temple, her left eye stained black and blue underneath.

Peter was sat in the chair beside her, his hand resting on top of her own. His eyes were red and watery and his cheeks were covered in tears, the overwhelming state of sadness he was perplexed by made it take him a few moments to look away from Sasha and notice that Tony had walked into the room.

"Mr Stark, you're back."

Peter was wide-eyed with a quivering bottom lip when he locked eyes with Tony, a childlike vulnerability making him crumble at the sight of him, letting go of Sasha's hand and rising to his feet, walking across the room straight into Tony's chest.

Tony didn't hesitate to embrace Peter, hugging him tightly with relief that he was safe and sound, though the relief not being strong enough for him to look away from Sasha for even a moment.

"You alright, kid? What happened here?" He said quietly, holding him by the shoulders.

Peter sniffled and nodded, "I'm so sorry, I was trying to keep her safe. This thing, i-it was coming my way but I was too busy helping Wanda that I didn't realise. Sasha, s-she came out from behind the wall and called for me to look out, b-but this monster, it saw her and instead of hurting me, i-it just..."

Peter broke down into a silent flood of tears, his head buried into Tony's shoulder as he cradled him like he would his own son, knowing all to well how heavy guilt felt, even if it was wrongly bestowed.

Tony knew there was nothing on earth Peter wouldn't have done to protect Sasha, but he also knew that Sasha wouldn't have hesitated to put herself in the firing line to save Peter.

He waited until Peter had stopped crying to let go of the boy, walking over to Sasha's bedside and gently taking her bruised hand inside his own. It was warm, a welcoming feeling that settled his heart a tiny amount, though the tubes and wires would do nothing to allow him to rest.

"Will she be alright?" Tony said, swallowing as he looked at her.

Peter shuffled in the corner of the room, taking a seat by the window, "She has a couple cracked ribs and a broken shoulder, a concussion and internal bleeding. But that was over a month ago, now. The doctors operated on her again today, that's why she sleeping. They said she'll be fine, but she hit her head pretty hard and she forgets things when she talks sometimes."

"Forgets things?" Tony tore his eyes away from Sasha and looked at Peter who sat glumly in the corner, his forearms leaning on his thighs.

"Sometimes, yeah. The doctors said they aren't sure whether it's permanent or not, there's a chance her memory will be fine but they can't say for sure. God," he fell silent, grimacing as he looked out the window when more tears began to fill his eyes, "This is all my fault."

Tony felt his entire body slowly go numb, loosing feeling in every inch of his soul and bones apart from the hand that was touching Sasha, the only sensation being the lively warmth coming from her frail palm.

There wasn't a world Tony wanted to live in if Sasha Coulson wasn't in it with him, he knew that now for certain. He made a promise to Sasha that he would try his best to come back to her unharmed, though he since wished he'd have promised himself that he'd return back to her with the injuries on himself instead, a paralysing illness making him feel like he was living inside a perplexed nightmare as he looked down at the woman he loved, so beaten and bruised.

"No," Tony whispered, "It's mine."