The soft melody of a piano filled the air, and Lexi stood backstage, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, as she watched the scene unfold live through the holographic projection on stage. Maria Stark's delicate hands moved gracefully over the keys, her soft voice singing the opening lines of a tune that felt distant yet familiar.

Lexi's breath hitched as she saw a younger Tony—her dad—sitting on the couch with a Santa hat askew on his head. Her grandparents, Maria and Howard Stark, were such rare topics of conversation between her and Tony. He shared what he could, but too often, the weight of their loss would catch up to him, leaving stories unfinished and memories untold.

This was different. It was vivid. Real. It was a gift. A window into a life she would never get to know firsthand.

Maria's voice, the glimmer of Howard's humour—it all felt like a glimpse into something precious Lexi could never have. She had never met them, but she saw so much of them in Tony.

Her lips curved into a bittersweet smile as Howard's sharp wit cut through Maria's gentle demeanour, and Tony fired back with the same biting sarcasm she knew so well. Lexi could see the love beneath their words, even if their family dynamic wasn't perfect.

She blinked rapidly, feeling the sting of tears. She had never met them, but their absence was large. Maria's warmth, and Howard's ambition—traits she saw reflected in Tony—made her wonder who they might have been to her. Would Maria have spoiled her with stories and affection? Would Howard have pushed her as hard as he had pushed Tony?

Lexi sighed softly, her gaze locked on her dad as his younger self muttered, "I love you, Dad. And I know you did the best you could." The shift in the hologram caught her off guard, and she suddenly saw the Tony Stark she knew today. Standing amidst the fading memory, he looked older, wiser—and haunted.

"Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or BARF. God, I gotta work on that acronym." Tony quipped in the recording. Lexi chuckled despite herself, knowing the acronym still drove him nuts.

She remembered the day Tony first showed her this project, his face lit up with excitement at the possibilities. "This is just the start," he had told her. "One day, you'll be giving the presentation instead of me, and I'll be the crazy old guy in the crowd cheering you like a lunatic."

Her smile softened at the memory. Her heart swelled with pride at the thought, but she wasn't ready to take his place yet—she wasn't sure she ever would be—but she liked that he believed in her so completely.

The hologram dissolved completely as Tony launched into his live presentation, the audience erupting into applause at his announcement of the grant funding. Lexi stood to the side, her arms crossed, watching with a mix of admiration and amusement.

He was incredible. Tony Stark could command a room like no one else.

"Not bad," she murmured to herself, feeling a swell of pride. As Tony exited the stage, his expression shifted slightly, the bright energy of his performance dimming as he stepped behind the curtain. He spotted Lexi waiting for him, with a proud smile tugged at her lips, though her eyes glimmered with something deeper—something bittersweet.

"You nailed it, Dad," she said, stepping toward him. "Nine out of ten. Points docked for using 'BARF.'" Tony raised an eyebrow, smirking and ruffling her hair. "Nine? I thought I raised you to aim higher. Harsh critic." Lexi rolled her eyes playfully. "You're the one with the questionable naming conventions. Lose the BARF acronym, and maybe I'll reconsider."

Tony smirked, "Maybe next time I'll let you present. Then you can wow the crowd." She snorted, brushing his hand away. "No thanks. You're the showman, not me." "Yeah, well, you'd do better," he said, glancing back toward the curtain. His smile faded slightly.

Lexi caught the shift and opened her mouth to ask if he was okay, but before she could, a voice interrupted. "Wow! Tony, so generous. So much money!" Tony turned, his expression tightening slightly at the sight of the overly enthusiastic professor heading their way. Lexi raised an eyebrow as the man launched into an explanation about self-cooking hot dogs.

"Chemical detonators embedded in the meat shaft," the man finished with a flourish. Tony's lips quirked in amusement as he grabbed Lexi's hand. "Yeah, restroom's this way," he said, steering her past the man and away from the conversation.

Lexi grinned as she followed him. "Self-cooking hot dogs? That's innovation right there." "Don't encourage him," Tony muttered, though his tone was laced with humour. They didn't get far before another figure emerged—a woman in sombre clothing standing by the elevator. Tony paused, his body going stiff for a fraction of a second before he pulled Lexi closer.

"That was nice," the woman said, her voice calm but tinged with something darker. "What you did for those young people." Tony smiled politely. "Ah, they deserve it. Plus, it helps ease my conscience."

"They say generosity correlates with guilt," the woman continued. "But if you've got the money... break as many eggs as you like, right?" Tony's smile faltered, and his posture stiffened slightly. "Is there something I can help you with?"

The woman's gaze flicked toward Lexi, her lips pursing. "Must be nice, having a family. Someone to pass the guilt on to." Lexi blinked, taken aback by the comment.

Tony's expression darkened, his voice lowering and his grip on Lexi's hand tightening. "Careful."

The woman pulled a photo from her handbag and shoved it toward Tony. "His name was Charlie Spencer. You murdered him. In Sokovia. Not that it matters to you. You think you fight for us, but you only fight for yourself."

Tony's face tightened, his jaw clenching as he stared at the photo. Lexi stepped forward. "That's enough—". "Lexi," Tony interrupted, his tone sharp. "Let's go," He said abruptly, tugging Lexi's hand and leading her toward the exit.

The woman's voice followed them. "Who's going to avenge my son, Stark? He's dead, and I blame you." Lexi glanced back over her shoulder, but the woman was already turning away.

Lexi's chest tightened as she looked at Tony. "Dad...". He exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "Let's just go." She hesitated but nodded, following him out of the building. They walked in silence until they reached the car.

As soon as they got inside, Tony surprised her by pulling her into a tight hug. Lexi blinked, startled, but quickly hugged him back. "You know you don't have to carry all of this alone, right?" Tony smiled faintly, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks, Star. But some things... they're just mine to carry."

Tony pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression warm but pained. He kissed her head and began to drive the car. Lexi's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, her brow furrowing as a flood of notifications filled her screen.

"What the..." she muttered, opening one of the articles. Her heart sank as she read the headline: Disaster in Nigeria: The Avengers' Mission Gone Wrong. She scrolled quickly, skimming the details about the operation—the explosion, the casualties, and mentions of the team. Her chest tightened as she spotted Wanda's name being mentioned more times than she cared to count.

"Dad," she said, her voice tight. "What's going on?". Tony glanced at her phone, his jaw clenching as his eyes flicked back to the road. "We'll talk about it at home," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Lexi nodded reluctantly, her grip tightening on her phone as unease settled in her chest. Something was wrong—terribly wrong—and she couldn't shake the feeling that Wanda was at the center of it.

The car glided smoothly through the streets, the hum of its electric engine filling the silence inside. Lexi, her face lit by the glow of her phone, sent off another text to Wanda.

little witch ❤️

Hey, you okay? 2:48 pm. Unread

Maxi? Please answer me. I'm worried. 2:53 pm. Unread

Anxiety bubbled over her as she glanced at Tony, who stared out the windshield, his face unreadable. "Dad," she said cautiously, "Did you change Jarvis?" Tony tilted his head toward her but didn't look away from the road. "Yeah, why?"

Lexi leaned forward. "Friday, where's Wanda?" The disembodied voice of Tony's AI assistant filled the car. "Miss Maximoff is currently in her room. I have detected an incoming message for Mr. Stark. The Secretary of State is waiting for you both at the Avengers Compound."

Tony's expression darkened, and he sat up straighter, his gaze snapping toward the dashboard. "What does Ross want now?" "Shall I play the message, sir?" Friday inquired. Tony waved a hand dismissively. "No, I've heard enough from Ross for a lifetime. Let's just get to the compound."

Lexi chewed her bottom lip, her grip on her phone tightening. The silence from Wanda was deafening, and the mention of Ross only made her unease grow. "Dad..." she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tony sighed, glancing at her with a softer expression. "We'll figure it out, Star. Let's hear what Ross has to say first, okay?" Lexi nodded reluctantly, but her thumbs were already flying over her phone again.

little witch ❤️

Baby, please. I need to know you're safe. 3:00 pm. Unread

═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══

Lexi sat close to her father at the long conference table, her chair slightly angled toward him as if seeking protection from the tension in the room. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, her green eyes darting across the faces gathered: Natasha, Rhodey, Steve, Sam, Vision, and Wanda, all focused on the man standing at the head of the table—Secretary Thaddeus Ross.

The room was thick with unease as Ross began, his tone calculated and firm.

"Five years ago, I had a heart attack," he started, pacing slightly. "Dropped right in the middle of my backswing. Turned out it was the best round of my life because, after thirteen hours of surgery and a triple bypass, I found something forty years in the Army had never taught me: perspective."

Lexi's brow furrowed as Ross's voice shifted, his words sharp beneath the guise of gratitude.

"The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You've fought for us, protected us, risked your lives..." He paused for effect, letting the weight of his next words settle. "But while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some... who would prefer the word vigilantes."

Natasha tilted her head slightly, her tone cool and controlled. "And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?" Ross stopped pacing, turning to face them fully. "How about dangerous?" He let the word hang in the air, his gaze sweeping the room. "What would you call a group of U.S.-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose, and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?"

Behind him, a screen lit up, displaying scenes that had long since etched themselves into the Avengers' collective memory.

"New York," Ross announced as footage of the Chitauri invasion played: a leviathan crashing through the streets, terrified citizens fleeing, and the Hulk smashing through a building. Lexi glanced up at her father, who sat rigid, his face unreadable. She reached out, her hand brushing his, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze without looking her way.

"Washington, D.C.," Ross continued, showing the destruction of the Triskelion, helicarriers firing and crashing into the Potomac. Sam's head dipped slightly, his jaw tightening. "Sokovia." The screen displayed the city rising into the air, buildings crumbling, and chaos reigning.

Wanda's fingers tightened on the edge of the table, her knuckles white. Lexi's chest tightened at the sight of her, wanting to reach out but knowing she couldn't. "Lagos." Flames consumed a building, paramedics wheeled a lifeless body, and the camera froze on the image of a dead girl.

"That's enough," Steve said sharply, his voice cutting through the thick silence. Ross gave a small nod, signalling to an aide to turn off the screen. The images faded, but the weight of them lingered. "For the past four years," Ross resumed, "you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution."

An aide handed him a thick document, which Ross slid across the table toward Wanda. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked it up, her eyes scanning the words before sliding it to Rhodey.

"The Sokovia Accords," Ross explained, his tone matter-of-fact. "Approved by 117 countries. It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary."

Lexi's grip tightened on her sleeve. The words felt like chains being thrown over the room, dragging down the freedom that had always been intrinsic to the Avengers' mission.

Steve leaned forward, his voice steady but firm. "The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we've done that." Ross's eyes locked on him. "Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?"

Steve didn't respond, but his expression hardened. "If I misplaced a couple of 30-megaton nukes," Ross continued, "you can bet there'd be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground."

Rhodey cleared his throat, his tone attempting to find a reason. "So... there are contingencies." Ross nodded. "Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over."

Natasha's voice broke through the room's tension, cool and calculated. "And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Ross smiled thinly. "Then you retire." Natasha's lips twitched, almost amused, but her eyes remained cold.

Tony shifted beside Lexi, his hand still on hers, his knuckles now pale against the wood of the table. As Ross left the room, the silence was deafening, broken only by the subtle rustle of paper and the unspoken weight of what had just been laid at their feet.

Lexi looked up at her father, her voice barely above a whisper. "What do we do now?"

Tony leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "We talk it over," he said, though his voice carried none of the optimism the words suggested. His hand shifted to rest protectively on her shoulder. "And we stick together."

But as Lexi glanced at Wanda, her downcast eyes haunted by the footage Ross had shown, she couldn't help but feel like things were already starting to fall apart.