AN: Couldn't not write a story for this Movie. This one went a little darker than I was expecting, but I like how it turned out. Done with college for now so I have the time to get to all my other works, and bring in some new ones that have been sitting on a shelf somewhere. I hope you enjoy this story. Forgive me.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or Captain America: Civil War. If I did, I would've named it Captain America: The Battle for Steve's Friendship and made Natasha win.

The headache had started out as a mere inconvenience, a distraction that was mostly unwelcome. It grew in strength as the events surrounding the Accords in Vienna came to pass. Tony hated to admit it, even to himself, his brief combat encounter with Bucky had done some significant damage.

It wasn't a headache anymore, but a full-blown migraine. The numb tingling feeling in his left arm should have been more concerning, the way his ribs hurt with every breath, but his focus was scrambled due to that terrible pounding in his head. Tony should have gotten himself looked at, truly. Then the orders came and there was no time for licking his wounds.

Time was a funny thing, it sped up so quickly during the battle between Avengers, yet seemed to slow to a crawl as he tried his hardest to catch Rhodey, to save his best friend. There just wasn't enough time.

Whatever it was now, it was something beyond a migraine. A bomb had exploded in his skull, and he sometimes found himself looking for the mushy remains of his brain splattered all around him.

There wasn't any time to consider medical help. Tony had too much to do. Get the information on where Cap had gone, find it, and convince Steve he came in peace. So much to do, so little time. Everything was resolving itself for a short while. They were a team, albeit only a small portion of their team, but it was leaps and bounds better than fighting each other.

If only it had lasted.

The video did him in, and Ste-Captain America's admission to knowing was the final nail in his proverbial coffin. This fight was entirely a blur, fueled by raw emotion and loss of control. His body was on autopilot, the suit following his lead with unprecedented zeal.

It wasn't until that shield was coming down that everything came into focus with sharp clarity. He thought for sure it was the end of him. The good Captain was going to kill him. At that last second, the trajectory changed to land in the damaged reactor, crushing it.

Power gone, game over.

He felt like that shield truly had killed him, because that surely must have been the cause of the pain in his heart, of it losing a piece of itself, an internal painful jerk that had nothing to do with left over shrapnel or flesh. The words were out of his mouth before he realized what was happening, aiming to hurt his adversary as much as he had hurt Tony.

Later, as he was trudging out of the bunker slowly, carrying that damn shield, he understood how childish his actions were, and how much Steve's friendship meant, how much the Avengers meant to him. He didn't care that Howard had made that shield, he cared that his teammate, his friend had fought alongside him with it.

It was a symbol of the time the Avengers were whole and not broken, like his heart.

FRIDAY got the chopper there and he left. Life was quickly losing meaning as the days passed. The massive enhanced migraine lurked in the background, but Tony paid it no heed. He made prototypes for Rhodey, ate Vision's prepared meals, and ignored Ross' calls. Time had no context. He barely slept and worked indefinitely.

He never used the phone, just locked it away in a drawer to gather dust. The escaped "Avengers" didn't hold their breath for him to call, Tony had betrayed them too. Their time spent in prison was still fresh.

Months passed. They missed Tony, but never called, choosing instead to force the billionaire to make the first move at mending bridges.

One day the phone rang. Steve answered in a heartbeat. He dropped the phone.

It shattered…not the phone, his heart.

Time had run out for Tony Stark. The tumor was too big, too complex, and too far along. He had been living on borrowed time.

He died in his workshop tinkering with an old project. No one was there. He died alone.

There was no time: that was the mantra of each Avengers' mind as they received the news.

There was no time.

Please Review!

AN: Thanks for reading. It's rather short, but I went for minimalism on this one.