A/N: This is going to be a dark story, containing graphic violence, character death, trauma, mental health issues, so please have that in mind. Also, beware a short mention of 9/11 at the beginning.

1

The war breaks out unexpectedly.

Okay, so that is a lie: everything is predictable to a certain degree. There've been signs, protests here and there, suspicious people travelling from country to country, a few incidents, some words written on the internet but never printed in newspapers. There have been talks about energy and economics, about population growth and religion – but not much more fierce than before.

S.H.I.E.L.D. has known about all of that, monitoring potential threats, putting out fires wherever possible. Tony has known because everything that happens in the world affects Stark International – as the name says, international – and himself personally.

But no one could have predicted a war.

It begins a bit like WWI, with a simple episode that seems to strike certain groups of people. It's a bit like 9/11, too, because there is a plane involved.

It's a plane full of child prodigies from Asia that were supposed to take part in an educational project in the USA. A bomb goes off onboard, a few kilometers from the airport. 113 kids and 26 adults. It's on the news a minute after the accident, as it's called at the beginning, happens.

Tony knows – knew – two of those kids personally, they were children of a man who works for Stark Industries in India. Mathematical geniuses. 12 and 14. Nirav and Shanti.

The governments are mad and the families even more, of course, understandably, but most of the discussion takes place in the interactive media which means the internet. Less than 24 hours after the plane is blown up, some people who claim to be an international group of freedom-seekers claim that they planted the bomb.

They announce that another bombing is going to happen within 12 hours. No one really believes them because there are no details, but just in case most countries are on a lookout, police in the streets, army in the streets. The bomb goes off in London and kills dozens of people.

It could be a coincidence, the media say because that's what they are instructed to say to stop the panic, but every single journalist and – almost everyone, honestly – is sitting and staring at the group's website to know what is going to happen next.

American government tries to block the website, to make it disappear, but they don't manage , and neither do other countries. It keeps being up within milliseconds after being deleted.

S.H.I.E.L.D. calls Tony and Tony asks JARVIS to do his best, but even the A.I. can't trace the source of the signal that comes back to life so quickly, quicker than it should be possible.

'We are an international group of people capable of taking care of the world,' they say. 'We are scientists and programmers, technicians and intellectuals, and nothing can stop us from taking over the world. That's why we targeted the genius kids: as a sign of protest. We know how the everything the scientific community is doing will help destroy the world and we need to put a top to it.'

It doesn't make much sense but the international uproar is incredible.

There is a bomb in Rio de Janeiro and then in Cape Town, in Melbourne and in Tokyo, in Rome and in Los Angeles. But for some time it's just bombs.

All of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents are working double or triple shifts, sleeping for short hours and living off coffee, collaborating with all other federal agencies and some international ones, too, but there are no loose ends. No traces. No nothing.

'None of us are Americans,' the group states another day. 'America thinks it can usurp the first place in everything in the world but they are years behind other countries, the countries they deem poor, undeveloped, stupid, unworthy. Look how behind they are!'

An hour later all of the electronic devices in Los Angeles stop working, including at Stark International factories. Only the arc reactor isn't affected because it's self-sustaining and independent.

'It's obvious what they are trying to do,' Phil says, running a hand through his short hair. His tie is loosened, sleeves rolled up, dark bags under his eyes. They are all in the Avengers Tower with Director Fury on a giant screen via video, agents shouting and moving fervently like bees in a hive. 'It doesn't matter if it's the US or not on their team. They want a war between us and everyone who'll stand behind us – and the rest of the world. It seems. In addition to their science-bashing declarations.'

'Cyber war,' Tony adds, sipping his cold whiskey slowly, staring at a screen where JARVIS is simultaneously running a search for the source of the data input for the website and analysis of the situation in LA, considering it's SI's second biggest center of production. 'Internet war, war of minds, of technology, of ideas, of codes and keys and numbers.'

'You're good at that,' Steve comments, locking his eyes on the same screen Tony is staring at, but even after two years in the 21st century it's all beyond him. To his credit, it would probably be beyond most people.

'I'm not a programmer per se,' Tony counters, moving the glass up to his lips. The ice cubes rattle quietly. 'I'm not a specialist in any of these things. JARVIS is a working miracle but those guys are doing something completely different. And it's obvious that it's a provocation. I just don't know what is the source, what is the reason, what is the point? They don't seem to want anything other than kicking America off the metaphorical pedestal and making sure the world know we suck, but the world is aware of that already. No need to point it out.'

'I need to go get to the Helicarrier,' Phil tells them suddenly, getting up and putting on his jacket. As far as Tony can tell he's exchanged a few words with Natasha and Clint, but they don't seem to be going anywhere. 'Thank god it's arc reactor-powered,' he adds and Tony smirks. He'd prefer it said under different circumstances and with much bigger audience but it's not a bad compromise.

'Fly safe,' Tony tells the man and goes back to staring at the screen. There is a familiar ting of the elevator when the doors open. 'What did Agent tell you?'

'To stay out of any potential trouble,' Clint replies, snatching a sandwich from a plate one of Tony's bots has just brought. 'Eat,' he adds when the bot rolls towards Tony and nags him with his free arm. 'Eat, you idiot, or I'll have Bruce install an IV to your arm.'

'Okay, okay,' Tony grumbles and takes the sandwich absentmindedly and begins to chew it without gusto. His stomach feels tight and eating isn't probably the best idea, but he knows he has to stop worrying so much – how absurd that sounds now! – and take a moment to rest.

'I'll be in the gym,' Natasha informs them both and disappears. Tony knows Steve is there, and Thor, too, so the sparring will be epic; he wishes he could spare a moment to go and just observe, cheering for whoever might be winning, but – not this time.

'You're not going, Legolas?' Tony asks Clint between bites, tapping at the screen with his free hand to hide some bars and enlarge a few others. The supervisor of the SI factories in Los Angeles is supposed to call in about ten minutes to tell Tony is person how the situation there looks like. The power in the city is slowly being restored, all available people working on it, including SI's personnel, but it's possible that a similar situation will happen – well, anywhere, anytime.

'I'll make sure you don't work yourself to death,' Clint replies, jumping onto the sofa. 'Besides, I have something to do for Phil,' he waves a bunch of papers at Tony. 'When I finish these, and it should take about half an hour, I'm dragging you up and putting you to bed. Pepper's orders, sorry pal, but I'm not going to risk her wrath in addition to a global catastrophe.'

'Okay, whatever,' Tony murmurs and frowns at the most recent set of data that JARVIS is displaying. 43% of machines at SI are functional and working already, the rest is being looked at by Tony's teams. No news about the website. All attempts to find some legitimate information are futile, the search bounces back or gets stopped before it can really begin.

How the hell is all of this happening, Tony wonders, rubbing his eyes. Maybe Pepper and Clint are right, he should probably get some rest because everything seems to start swimming and getting blurry in front of his eyes.

Derek Brume, the SI Los Angeles branch director calls on time and gives Tony a lengthy and detailed report. It seems that nothing was permanently damaged; all the electronic devices seem okay, they just… shut off for some time. For almost two hours. And then started working again. No one has any information as to how did they manage to do that. JARVIS is trying to find out the source – a signal-scrambling device? something via internet? something via electrical installation? none of that makes sense – and Feds are trying to do the same.

No fucking answers.

Tony ends the call telling the man and everyone to try to get some sleep and rest before tomorrow, because it's likely to bring news and some answers to questions, if they are lucky.

'Hey,' Tony hears a soft voice behind himself and almost jumps in his chair.

'Hello, my sweetest science buddy, what can I do for you? Coffee? Drink? Anything –'

Bruce rolls his eyes and leans over the table next to Tony, turning off the screen before Tony can react and then putting a hand on his shoulder.

'I've got you these,' he says, producing a tiny transparent container with two pills inside. 'Magic meds.'

'Gimmie,' Tony smiles, but Bruce keeps them out of Tony's reach.

'Has he eaten?' Bruce asks Clint who nods and holds up a hand with two fingers up; it's a common signal in the house and the currency is always sandwiches. Unless it's breakfast time, then it might be waffles. 'Okay. Here you are. Go to sleep.'

'Thanks, Brucie,' Tony says sincerely, glancing up at his fellow scientist with his tired eyes. No matter how exhausted he might be, he would not fall asleep without some external aid, there is simply too much going on in his head to be shut off efficiently with a pure force of will.

'Just this once,' Bruce reminds him sternly and Tony replies with a lopsided smile and a salute before disappearing in the elevator that goes up to his personal apartment.

The pills do wonders and Tony succumbs to sleep within a few minutes; it really must be a new record.

So, all of that was just a prelude.

When the war really breaks out, with an official declaration, it's a few days later and after several other incidents that shake the international community. There are no more bombings, instead, there are shootings targeted at important officials from all over the world. 12 people die, 17 are seriously wounded. A few countries are left without key figures. Everyone is looking everywhere around, trying to physically find the people who did it: a set of names signed under the declarations on the internet is not enough.

S.H.I.E.L.D. is almost in disarray, as close to disarray as Tony will probably ever see, he thinks, and Coulson looks as if he was on the verge of just stopping in the middle of action and bursting in tears. Not surprising. Anyone else would have done that a long time ago.

Fury is nowhere to be seen.

'He left for a meeting with the President and a few other important people,' Hill tells Tony when he asks. She doesn't tell him when, where to, for how long. It's very likely that she doesn't know herself.

Without any Avengers' work, Tony spends the few days after that memorable night he slept through on securing Stark International factories and writing code upgrades for JARVIS to make him as safe as possible, although he has no idea what he is supposed to prepare for.

'I can't have you compromised, J,' Tony tells him between sips of coffee. 'I need you.'

'If you cut me off from the internet and all other web connections I will be not of much use, sir,' JARVIS reminds him softly. 'You didn't create me to control the lights in the tower and play movies from DVDs.'

'I know, J,' Tony sighs, rubbing his eyes. Gosh, a few more days of staring at the screens without a break and he's going to need glasses. 'But you are my friend, you know that, my best friend – and I want to do everything to protect you.'

'It might be not worth it,' the A.I. replies flatly. Tony shakes his head in resignation. He knows perfectly well that it might not.

Given all the hectic work Tony's been doing, when the actual information about the declarations of war is all over the news he isn't sure he cares. After seventy eight consecutive hours without sleep even Tony reaches his physical limits.

Bruce is sitting with him in the dining area, making sure Tony eats before Bruce can feed him sleeping pills – Tony knows he's starting to be ridiculous with his stubbornness about working and not resting – when JARVIS flickers the TV on.

'Sir, you must look at this,' he says and Tony and Bruce turns their heads around to look at the screen. WE ARE AT WAR, scream big red letters on the bottom of the screen; the President is reading his statement, trying to raise his voice over the loud murmur of disbelieving voices.

'What the fuck?...' Tony asks himself, blinking at the screen. 'J, give me an overview, I can't listen to this we have to stay calm shit, how the hell are we supposed to be calm – okay, Bruce, you stay calm –'

'Don't worry,' Bruce replies through gritted teeth. 'I'm okay.'

'Good – JARVIS? And where is everyone?'

'Agents Romanov and Barton are at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters with Agent Coulson, Mister Thor and Mister Rogers are down in the gym, I alerted them about the situation and they will be up here shortly. Miss Potts and Mister Hogan are in Stark International tower. Colonel Rhodes, as you may see, is with the President,' JARVIS enumerates everyone on the alert list and highlight Rhodey's uniformed person somewhere in the background of the scene in TV. 'The information that is not public yet but all Federal Agencies have access to tells us that the group of people we've been having problems with recently is in fact a group led by a man who calls himself The Emperor and as far as we know is a time traveler. There are several thousand soldiers residing in Greenland – it's not clear how they managed to get to the island without being noticed, but it has happened within the last twenty four hours – and a number we cannot estimate scattered all around the world. They appear to have weapons that are technologically ahead of our times, sir.'

'So they declared the war first –'

'Yes, but given that their operatives seem to everywhere, it's difficult to take any action. Many governments blame America for this events because of the previous declarations you are aware of, even though the aggressors are not American.'

'What a fucking mess,' Tony murmurs, feeling a headache raising between his temples. And he as hoping to finally get some rest. 'How the hell did all of that happen?'

'I would say it's likely because of the advantages that their leader's knowledge brings –'

'I know, J, it was rhetorical…' Tony sighs, taking the mug from the table to drink the remains of his tea, but Bruce stops him and places the pills in Tony's hand.

'You need this,' he says. 'I know it's like the worst moment but – don't make this face, you're going to drop unconscious with exhaustion if you continue like this and you'll be much less useful then because I will tie you down to a bed and keep you there until I deem you are okay enough to come back to the land of living.'

'Okay,' Tony agrees without a protest because he knows Bruce is right. 'J, make sure you'll have everything summarized for me when I wake up. Tell Pepper we'll talk about SI when I wake up. In fact, ask her to come home as soon as possible.'

'Of course, sir.'

'Steve and Thor?…'

'I'll explain them everything. Now shoo, we might need you so the sooner you're something more than a zombie the better.'

Tony nods and jumps off the bar stool, heading towards his room.

He hopes there will be some answers when he wakes up because right now it's just an incredible mess he can't believe this is really happening. Time travelling madman? And they thought Chitauri were too much.

The first thing Tony asks about when he wakes up is where is everyone.

'They are safe, all Avengers but Mister Thor are in the penthouse. Mister Thor is in New Mexico with Doctor Foster. Miss Potts and Mister Hogan are on their respective floors in the tower. Colonel Rhodes still with the President. Nothing violent has happened within the time you were asleep, sir. There were several more declarations of war and more politics but not attacks so far.'

'Thank heavens,' Tony breathes and rolls out of the bed. A quick shower later he puts on whichever clothes he finds first and quickly goes down to meet with the rest of the crowd.

'S.H.I.E.L.D. is disbanded,' Phil tells Tony as soon as he enters the room and the words make him freeze in place.

'What?'

'Or maybe I should say suspended for the time of war,' Phil continues, not moving an inch on the sofa. Tony can see that the man is almost dead on his feet and it hurts to see that; Clint looks worried out of his mind. 'But yeah, we were sent home for now. I have no idea why, this has never happened – but then S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded after Second World War, so it's the first… Anyway. We got an order. All agents are to report to a newly-found War Division within 48 hours.'

'And Fury?'

'Haven't seen him. He called me, though, and ordered to do as we're said. So we did.'

'God, Phil,' Clint sighs, burying his face in the man's neck. 'You need to rest. Now. 48 hours, I'm not letting you do anything but sleep.'

'Pretty extreme,' Phil murmurs, but doesn't protest. It's strange to see him like this, the opposite of his usual composed self in crisp suits and with a straight back, but it's not that surprising given that it was his and Hill's responsibility to take care of all S.H.I.E.L.D. business when Fury was not there.

One last time, apparently.

'You look better, Tony,' Steve comments with a small smile because he is Steve and he's himself 24/7 and will always tell you something nice. 'I'm glad you had some rest finally.'

'Yeah, me too,' Tony agrees and starts to make his way toward the kitchen. 'Anyone else wants food?'

They shake their heads for no – it's 8 a.m., so they've just eaten breakfast – and Tony gets there himself and immediately asks JARVIS to pull up the news summary for him.

The USA, a few dozen South American and African countries, as well as Australia and New Zealand, declared official war on the Autonomous Country of Greenland. European countries obviously can't do it as easily, Greenland is still part of the Kingdom of Denmark and therefore part of EU and it makes things helluva complicated, but Danish government underlined several times that they have nothing to do with The Emperor. Some Asian countries are apparently considering going at war with the US since they are the reason of the whole situation, at least in collective minds, and the wound left after the plane bombing is still fresh.

American President declared no intention of an armed intervention in Greenland because it seems pointless – their people are everywhere already – and it could mean a very difficult conflict with the EU, since Greenlanders are European citizens.

'Has the Emperor actually shared what does he want to achieve?' Tony asks, munching on his sandwich mechanically.

'No, sir, bur he declared he will share when the time comes.'

'Motherfucker,' Tony murmurs, blinking a few times to make sure he has seen the number right. 'JARVIS, did I really get seven hundred ninety three messages within eight hours?'

'Yes, sir. They are mostly inquires about the possibility of Stark International going back to producing weapons in the light of recent events.'

Tony puts away the sandwich, sighs deeply and rests his head on his hand. All of sudden breakfast doesn't seem like a good idea – it doesn't seem possible. He locks his fingers around the mug so tightly his knuckles turn white and it feels like any more pressure put into the grip and the mug might break into pieces.

No.

No, right?

'Colonel Rhodes asked me to tell you that the President wants to meet you, sir. Within two days, whenever is convenient for you.'

'Rhodey called? When?'

'A few hours after you fell asleep. I believe he was in a different time zone, but the President and all of his people are supposed to be back in the White House in a few hours, as soon as the terrain is inspected and it's certain that there is no threat present to the lives of the residents.'

'Sure,' Tony breathes, tapping at the screen to see the newest information about SI Los Angeles; the map of the world disappears and an email from Brume pops up. 'Make me coffee, J. Something I'll drink. Big one.'

'Right away,' the A.I. replies, for once not scolding Tony for skipping breakfast, and the coffee machine starts to hum softly.

No lasting damage in LA, it seems, but that's no consolation if the Emperor's men can turn off all the electronic devices anytime they want again. JARVIS' analysis, conducted all night long, did not bring any answers. Source unknown, untraceable. Modus operandi unknown. Unknown.Unknown. JARVIS says sorry but it's not his fault. He is only as much as Tony can make him so if it's anyone's fault, it's Tony's.

'Tony?' a soft voice calls him from behind and he flinches violently, swearing silently not to get completely lost in his thoughts so often.

The room smells like coffee. Before Tony can get up to take his mug, it's placed in front of him and Natasha drops to the seat on his right.

'Yes?'

'Did you know it was going to happen?' she asks, almost in a whisper, and Tony realizes how exhausted she must be. They're all crazy workaholics, but when Clint and Coulson are occupied with each other or not present at all, Natasha is always left out a bit and she doesn't have enough self-preservation to take proper care of herself. And recently everyone has been pushing themselves too far.

'I had no fucking idea,' Tony admits. She knows he's not lying. Of course he isn't.

'I wasn't expecting them to disband S.H.I.E.L.D.,' she continues, and Tony suddenly understands what is the problem. 'It was my life since Clint brought me here, and now I don't know – I can't be sure everyone else will want me. Given my past.'

'Avengers will want you,' Tony assures her without missing a beat. 'J, make Natasha tea,' he orders the A.I. and the electric kettle is on immediately. Tony knows he has every right to say that because as much as Steve is the commander in field, Tony is the leader.

'Avengers were S.H.I.E.L.D.'s –'

'So now we are not anymore,' Tony interrupts firmly. 'But we still are a team and I can't imagine anyone stopping us from being a team. And there'll always be place for you here.'

'Thank you,' Natasha says. She seems a bit relieved.

Tony gets up and takes her favorite glass out of the cupboard – a gift from Pepper's trip to Russia, a delicate tumbler put into a decorated metal cup holder. He makes tea in a teapot, the way Natasha taught him long time ago, and they wait for five minutes in complete silence, with news feed turned on but muted. When the time is up, Tony pours the tea into the glass and places a cube of sugar inside.

'Come on, Nat,' he chooses to use the nickname that he wouldn't dare to use in most situations, but he desperately wants to give her some comfort. Who knew he would be friends with an assassin? 'Let's get you to bed and before you protest consider that I'm playing Bruce's role here and think how strange this is for me. But you need rest. You see. We just need to mother each other into sleeping,' he finishes lightly and stares at her suggestively.

The last comment makes the corners of her mouth twitch a tiny bit and that makes it a victory.

Natasha, as everyone else on the team, has no internal clock, so falling asleep shouldn't be more difficult during the day that it is during the night. Tony deposits her in her room and goes back to the kitchen to find Steve and Bruce discussing something, but as soon as they realize Tony is approaching they fall silent.

'I don't mind if you talk about me,' he declares, passing them to get to the coffee maker. One cup is definitely not enough to deal with the insanity the day is surely going to bring. 'Or my weapons,' he adds because hey, it's pretty obvious. 'I was going to ask you anyway.'

'Ask us?' Steve repeats, leaning back in the chair and making the face that Tony can never figure out; it might mean innocence or curiosity or confusion all the same. It's a guess.

'I got about few hundred emails from important people asking me to go back to making weapons during the war for the benefit of my country and all that. I don't want to so I wanna ask what you think about that.'

'If you don't want to –'

'Tony knows he's not being objective,' Bruce interrupts Steve, pushing his glasses up and pinching his nose bridge the way he does when he's stressed. 'You should talk to Pepper,' he adds, turning to Tony.

'I will, but… you know,' Tony pauses for a moment to take a sip of the almost burning coffee, 'I don't want to ask the board about this because I know their answer already. Or anyone from the government because it's obvious, too. And it seems like – fuck. I'm a terrible person,' he suddenly realizes something, puts the coffee away and hides his face in his hands.

'Tony?' Steve calls his name with that soft worried note Tony adores hearing.

'You know, maybe don't answer,' Tony says, taking a deep breath. 'I don't really – I don't want you opinions. I just want it to be the responsibility of more people than me and Pepper because I have no idea what is the right answer. And it's a fucking lot of responsibility. So. Just ignore me –'

'I want to have say in this,' Steve declares. Of course he does. 'You can put the responsibility on Captain America's shoulder or something, but I don't think you should go back to weapons. We don't even know what kind of war this is going to be. Nothing like we've seen before, it seems,' he stops for a moment, glancing at Bruce as if he was making an assessment, and then looks back at Tony and speaks up before Tony can articulate something, 'War is mad, Tony. People are not themselves anymore, so often, and they do things they would've never done otherwise and we don't know what to expect… And we all know why you stopped making weapons. I… I don't want to see you hurt by what would the weapons inevitably be used for. We know it wouldn't be just for the good cause, we know it would be misused so… So, please, don't do this. Don't do this to yourself.'

Tony puts the mug to his lips and lets the hot liquid almost burn his skin, wondering how to reply. It's… uplifting, to know that someone care for him.

'Steve is right,' Bruce adds.

Tony can feel a strange warmth in his gut at his friends' words because they really believe that his peace of mind is the most important factor here.

'You're biased, too, obviously,' he comments in the end, chuckling darkly, but they don't seem amused. 'But thanks for the opinions. I – I need to talk to Pepper. Seriously –'

'You have an incoming call from Colonel Rhodes, sir,' JARVIS cuts in and Steve and Bruce disappear from the room within three seconds, giving Tony privacy, leaving him alone with his steaming coffee.

'Hey, platypus,' Tony greets the man even though there's none of the usual playfulness in his voice.

'Hey, Tony,' Rhodey replies as if he was in hurry; it's actually very likely. 'I just wanted to tell you I'll be sending you an email in a few moments, about the meeting with the President, and please reply straight away, okay? We need a schedule, there is lots going on, so none of your games this time –'

'I wouldn't,' Tony assures him and he means it.

'Good. And – good to hear your voice, man.'

'Same here,' Tony smiles. He hasn't seen Rhodey in weeks and it's happened before but this time the weeks seem to stretch endlessly.

'I need to run, Tony. It's crazy here, you can imagine – anyway. Write back.'

'I will,' Tony manages to say before Rhodey hangs up. Two sips of coffee later there is an email alert on the screen and Tony opens the message immediately.

The President wants to talk about the War Division – might be somehow enlightening, weapons – obvious, the Avengers – obvious, Tony's willingness to borrow some of his tech – well, duh; he wants to offer Tony some classified information in exchange for tech support – not surprising either. Safety protocol: no Iron Man suit. Uh-oh. Danger is case it's hacked, someone apparently decided. It's ridiculous, Tony's jet could as well crash into Pentagon, not like it hasn't happened before.

I'll be there at 0800 tomorrow, Tony just writes. All the precautions acknowledged.

No way he is going anywhere without a suit, but the suitcase one will do, the design upgraded several times after the confrontation with Vanko.

Now: SI stuff. A meeting with Pepper. A board meeting. A team meeting, later, when Phil and Natasha and Clint are back to the land of the living. Maybe some other meeting. Ugh. It's all one big instant headache.

And, of course, there is an always-present anticipation and uncertainty regarding what's going to happen that makes Tony's skin tingle constantly. All the countries seem to be waiting for the Emperor's move, awaiting a message or an act of some kind; the clock ticks and there is no information and Tony is sure the madman must have a lot of fun keeping everyone on their toes.

Tuesday meetings go quickly and the only real decision that is made is that Stark International will not be going back to making weapons. no matter what might happen. Tony talks about it with Pepper and she agrees with him. The board is very unhappy about the decision because as much as they might be scared by the prospect of war – an uncontrollable war, it seems, and an unpredicted one – they see the opportunity of making a lot of money. Really. An endless stream of money because SI makes the best everything, so everyone would buy their guns and missiles and everything that blows up and kills people.

'We will come up with some projects from the area of defense,' Tony tells the board to placate them. 'I have several things I will show to R&D later this week.'

They grumble unhappily, but everyone has learned by now that Tony's word is holy and he does what he wants. Always. Especially when it comes to weapons.

The team meeting ends up being just a simply dinner in front of the TV. They don't even try watching a movie because all thoughts are on something fundamentally different and very real; the news feed is on with JARVIS' additions, muted, and they eat in silence. The three agents – former agents? – are looking much better now, but Tony knows Bruce and Steve will make sure they sleep through the night, too, instead of wearing themselves out by training or staying up talking. There's a common agreement about postponing any big decisions concerning the team to after Tony comes back from the meeting with the President.

JARVIS wakes Tony up at 5 sharp and he goes on autopilot for half an hour, shower – tooth brushing – shaving – making his hair – underwear, exactly in that order, and then he puts on an elegant dark suit with a crisp white shirt, diamond cufflinks, all the President-worthy jazz, but he lets himself wear a deep red tie because hello, he is Iron Man. Pepper shouldn't complain too much.

She is waiting for him in the kitchen in a smart dress and sky-high heels, dressed for work, with the coffee ready and scent of waffles filling the room.

'You'll lure Steve out with this pretty smell,' he comments, brushing her forehead with his lips as he's passing her to take out cinnamon sugar from the cupboard.

'He's in the gym with Thor,' Pepper replies around her glass of juice. The god and the super-soldier are lucky; they can function just fine on half on regular mortal's required amount of sleep.

'Figures,' Tony mumbles, taking a sip of his coffee and thanking gods for the incredible and indispensable brew like he does every morning. 'I'll eat, I know,' he adds before Pepper can say something; Tony sees the intent clearly in her body language. She smiles a bit.

'You never liked the White House food.'

'True,' Tony agrees and puts an additional waffle on his plate before sprinkling them all with sugar. Normally he'd add some whipped crème, but at half past five he's not sure his stomach would be too happy with that. 'JARVIS? Anything I need to know before I go?'

'I can give you a summary of the night's events on the jet, sir,' the A.I. offers in his usual emotionless voice; it's so soothing to Tony's ears. 'But nothing of significance has happened, at least not in comparison with the kind of events we're dealing with these days.'

'No message from the motherfu–'

'Tony!' Pepper exclaims, making a face. Tony can't make himself feel guilty.

'You know he deserves any name I can come up with,' Tony whines and takes a bite of the waffle, gesturing at JARVIS to reply.

'There are no declarations on the website, sir, although there are some pieces of information that might seem interesting. You should be onboard the jet in half an hour, sir, and I will let you know everything then.'

'Yes, mother,' Tony agrees, rolling his eyes, because JARVIS' unspoken now please eat, sir, in filling in the kitchen air. So he does eat, then he packs his tablet and a few other gadgets he might need, including the suitcase suit. After saying goodbye to Pepper he takes the elevator down to the ground level. Happy is waiting with the Bentley in front of the Tower's main entrance.

The ride to the private airport on the Stark International grounds is short and swift; even in New York the traffic at 6 a.m. is quite calm.

The most important thing that JARVIS tells Tony on the plane are: one, that there have been several incidents similar to the Los Angeles one, seemingly without a key, all over the world – and two, that there seem to be groups forming on the internet for people who do agree with the Emperor and the numbers are higher than Tony would have ever expected. The social networking sites can't keep up with deleting the pro-war comments and the discussions filled with so much hatred and idiocies that Tony wants to scream.

Oh, and conspiracy theories.

'So that's what you get when you mix a fucking real global conflict with the internet,' Tony comments to himself, swallowing two Tylenol; the headache is a bitch. Even though he's slept almost six hours.

The jet lands in D.C. at 0700 sharp, giving Tony time to get to the White House and go through the security. Normally it wouldn't take long, but in this situation – even with Rhodey playing for the President's team – there must be precautions. And he's got to persuade the security team that no, his suit cannot be hacked because it's been offline all the time and it has a special system, separate from the internet; it's almost true.

There is a limousine waiting at the airport that Tony gets into without hesitation, spotting Rhodey's face inside and as soon as one of the soldiers closes the doors behind him, he notices the second person sitting in the back.

It's Fury.

Tony glares.

'Don't tell me you didn't expect me here,' the ex-Director says, his voice low and deep as always, sounding somehow creepy in the dark interior of the car.

'I kind if did,' Tony admits, placing the suitcase armor between on the floor between his legs. 'Not in the car though.'

'Surprise,' Fury deadpans and Tony snickers, turning his head to Rhodey.

'What's up, honeybear? Why are you staring at me like this?'

'Thanks for being in time for once.'

'Even I know the limits,' Tony declares, gaining disbelieving stares from both men. 'Okay, apparently sometimes I do. Like now.'

'There is always the first time,' Rhodey murmurs and leans back in the seat as the car accelerates.

'I was –' Tony starts and then stops. There must have been one time – oh. 'I was on time for our MIT graduation, right? I know I was.'

'You know because I told you; you were too drunk to say more than five simple sentences as your gradation speech,' Rhodey reminds him flatly, but there's a tiny hint of affection underneath his composed demeanor. True. Tony nods in agreement and relaxes in his seat, too, and the rest of the ride passes in silence.

They arrive at the White House half past seven and when the security team is done x-raying them and checking all the secret pockets and trying to snatch Tony's suit out of his grasp – he wins the fight – they are finally lead through the vast halls to the Situation Room filled with a buzz of everyone inside talking all at once; it might be Tony's persistent headache making him exaggerate though.

When they enter the room it seems to go silent and within seconds almost everyone disappears, leaving only eight people inside, including Tony, Rhodey and Fury.

'Mister Stark,' the President says, coming up to shake Tony's hand. 'Pleasure to meet you again, although I wish the circumstances were drastically different.'

'Same here, Mister President,' Tony replies with his usual cocky charm and the man offers him a tight grin.

'I hope you don't mind if we go straight to the heart of the matter, Mister Stark, as the time presses,' Tony nods in agreement and sits in the chair one of the men indicates. 'So, Director Fury can tell you more about S.H.I.E.L.D. if you have questions, but as for the Avengers, I'd like you as a part of the War Division. Richard, show Mister Stark the files,' he says to the man who showed Tony his seat. Tony has never seen the man before, what is kind of curious. Have JARVIS look at him, he makes a mental note.

'I see you managed to sneak your suit here in the end,' the President says when Tony is skimming the file. Tony just returns the fake smile and looks back at the papers.

It seems that World Security Council finally lost its patience with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s insubordination and Avenger's waywardness and decided to turn it all into something not unlike an army's special intelligence division. When Tony looks up, Fury shakes his head slightly for a no, which obviously means he had no say in that. Nor surprising, he's been disobeying his superiors long enough to finally be ignored.

'If you take part in the project without making problems, I am sure it would be a great example for everyone else,' the President says at some point.

'I'll discuss it with the team before I can make a decision – pardon me, mister President,' Tony adds quickly seeing that the man wants to cut in, 'but even the state of war does not give me the right to decide for other people, especially such unique individuals that you surely are aware that we are.'

'Why don't you –'

'I need to talk with them in person,' Tony says, smiling apologetically. One good thing about practically owning the US and being a superhero at the same time – is being able to tell your mind to everyone, politely but with a shit-eating grin because they have to listen to you.

The President is not happy at all about Stark International refusing to make weapons and Tony barely manages to resist the urge to roll his eyes after the tenth time he has to repeat the same words and assure the men in the room that no, no amount of state money and no exclusive contracts can persuade him.

Tony can't stop wondering what has happened to the world that made him the only man that won't be persuaded to do anything against his will. Rhodey has never been that man but he's a soldier so Tony has never blamed him. Fury is more of a surprise but Tony suspects he's made a few moves on his own in this game that the others might not be aware of. Yet.

'I can sell you defensive tech,' Tony tells the President the same thing he told the board. Defense is okay. Defense is necessary and it's something Tony is willing to put all his brains and resources into.

The President and his men make sour faces, but Tony keep smiling. In the end they do give in.

'You are very tough, Mister Stark,' the President tells Tony when they reach an impasse and any more talking seems superfluous.

'I've learned morals from Captain America himself,' Tony returns and notices both Rhodey and Fury smirking slightly.

'Director Fury will travel back with you,' Richard or whatever his name is tells Tony as soon as they say goodbye to the President and his crowd of people goes back to the room. 'He needs to be in New York to meet his ex-agents in War Division headquarters for the city – and we want someone to straighten whichever words about the transfer you might alter slightly while talking to your team.'

'Whatever you say, your majesty,' Tony replies, only slightly mockingly, and follows the man through the long corridors. Fury is two steps behind Tony, keeping up with the pace and probably staring at Tony's back since he definitely feels someone's eyes – or an eye – on him.

'President didn't tell you everything,' Fury states as soon as they are in Tony's jet, alone in the cabin, with JARVIS taking care of making their talk very private. He ignores Tony's of course he didn't stare. 'There have been threat letters arriving to the White House, as if to make sure the government won't act against the Emperor's wishes.'

'What does he want then? The statement is not out there yet –'

'It will be,' Fury assures Tony. 'Soon. He's warned us. So, what does he want from the President? Closing of several research facilities that are crucial for the country's safety. Retraining of several thousand scientists. Abandoning the special educational programs in the US and all over the world because according to him, the development of sciences and technology turned out to be the downfall of the world.'

What?

'So he wants the world to be like what, Neanderthals? Planet of the Apes?' Tony asks,

Fury just glares, but it is a valid question, if you bother translate it using a Stark to Everyone Else dictionary.

'Okay, I know what you're hinting at. I am a target, blah blah –'

'Stark, don't be –'

'I'm not dismissive,' Tony interrupts the man's predictable speech. 'I'm not I – I can admit that it's scaring me, this madman-from-the-future thing. I've seen how their weapons work, the ones the apparently invisible people killed all those officials. The footage from Vienna, I'm sure you've seen it – it shows how that gun thing works. It's like a science fiction movie effect in real life. I don't know how to make something like that, maybe if I had one in my hands – but well, I don't. And I am a guy producing tech. I'm fighting with tech. I trust my tech with my life, literally,' Tony says, tapping slightly at the arc reactor in his chest. 'It's easier to think about everything when I say it as if it were a joke. Even if I know it's not. A psychological method that works on me, you see.'

'I see,' Fury agrees, his voice sounding even lower than normally, and then he says nothing more. Tony waits a few moments and then there is no other comment, he turns his attention to the newest update on SI Los Angeles factories – everything is fine, back to work, actually all of SI facilities are operating as if nothing has happened.

The team is waiting for Tony is the penthouse, everyone but Bruce sprawled on the sofas of the fluffy carpets. That means food is being cooked – yes, definitely, the smells only assures Tony. Rice and curry it seems.

'Hey, Director,' Clint greets the other man first and everyone seems to become aware of Fury's presence all of sudden, didn't JARVIS announce them? 'Nice to see you.'

'I'm yet to see the day you'd be enthusiastic to see me,' Fury shoots back and takes a second before heading for the nearest empty chair, unknowingly making a decision for the team that the dinner will be eaten in the living room area, in their laps.

'Nicky is here to make sure I don't lie to you or something – and he just used me to hitch a free ride,' Tony clarifies, sitting down next to Natasha who first gives him a long assessing look and then a curt nod of approval. 'No, seriously, the President really wants us in his newest tin soldiers division – I mean the War Division. You know. Which is an obvious madness but well. It goes like this…' Tony starts and tell the team everything they've talked about in the basement of the White house.

There is a variety of reactions to each of the things Tony recounts but very few of them are the happy ones. Phil appears to be the calmest – he usually is, but Fury's presence seems to provide him some feeling of stability or some other psychological support Tony's never been good at – and Steve seems to be the most approving, despite the cute frown lines on his forehead.

'So Midgard is fighting against a force it doesn't know,' Thor concludes and Tony suddenly wonders where his girl, Doctor Foster, might be. New Mexico doesn't sound too safe. 'And according to the words of your leader, our involvement will raise the spirits and persuade youngsters to join the fight against evil.'

'According to them – you could put it that way, yes,' Tony confirms, rubbing his temples and internally screaming for some more Tylenol. 'It also means we would not be superheroes saving the world anymore, not really –'

'Is that all that matters to you?' Fury asks, raising his voice a bit.

'No,' Tony replies, closing his eyes. A lie. Yes. Iron Man is the part of Tony's identity that seems stable and makes sense and is good, so he'd pretty much prefer to continue being a superhero. 'No,' he repeats, trying to collect his thoughts. 'But I don't think I'd fancy answering to a commander of a division or whatever i's supposed to be called – I can listen to Cap, but he is Cap,' Tony adds, shooting Steve a wry smile. 'I don't want jurisdiction –''

'But we are at war, Tony,' Steve interrupts him softly and suddenly all eyes are fixed on him, making Steve blush slightly. 'It's not a game. We cannot do whatever we want – don't give me that look. I know exactly what I did back in Second War, breaking all the orders and getting things my own way. Only that, back then, I was – I was the only exceptional person besides Red Skull, so I had a great advantage, and now there are many more of extraordinary individuals around. So our odds are completely different, and… I disobeyed orders but there were orders. We can't just continue all on our own now, not when the country's security is at stake. It requires strategy – and cooperation.'

'Hate that,' Tony shrugs theatrically and it makes a flicker of amusement fly through Steve's face.

'There is some truth to Steven's words,' Thor speaks up, glancing at everyone around. 'I do not take pleasure is listening to you, mortals, but if it were to bring more good than harm, I shall consider.'

'I'm with Tony,' Bruce says, entering the room with a tray full of bowls and forks and a steaming bowl of rice; of course he was listening to the whole conversation via JARVIS. 'I don't want any control. I'd prefer if we were separate from everyone and everything, for obvious reasons – it's not like the other guy will take orders from just anyone, anyway – but I'll do what the majority wants,' he finishes and disappears again to bring the rest of the food.

'Clint?' Steve asks, handing out the bowls without looking at them.

'To be honest, I just want S.H.I.E.L.D. back,' Clint sighs and glances at Phil. 'But we are former agents anyway, so I assume we must at least go to the meeting with the War Division. I know we could pull the special status card and everything, but you know. I don't wanna be on their bad side.'

'I think we should give it a try,' Coulson says just that, looking back at Clint, and just then Bruce comes in with the expected steaming pot and places it on the carpet between Natasha and himself.

'I'd rather not,' Natasha says and Tony breathes in relief even though they are still outnumbered, but then she adds, 'but I take Director would be out liaison – not a commander, but he'd supervise –'

'That's no real power,' Tony argues: Fury did admit that just like the President said, he's being cut off from a position of an actual big responsibility and transferred to a position of much smaller responsibility.

'Nevertheless, I trust Director,' Natasha states, meeting Tony's eyes for a second and they're full of determination. 'He trusted me.'

'So, we are pretty outnumbered, Brucie,' Tony states with only slight disappointment in his voice. 'I guess we suck it up and eat the curry then.'

Bruce gives him a long and remotely approving look, as if he was trying to say thank you for not being a whiny brat about this and accepting for once that things don't always go your way – Tony could swear those are the exact words Bruce is thinking. Very likely.

So they eat; it's tense at the beginning, as if an argument was about to break out, but after a few moments of silence filled only with the eating noises someone says something in almost a whisper and a moment later a soft murmur of conversation fills the room. Tony eats his curry, mentally cataloging all the SI projects he needs to have a look at tonight instead of letting himself dwell on the team's decision. There are at least a few ideas for the government that he wants to at least write down with JARVIS, in addition to the projects to reviews. A busy night date with coffee, it seems.

Fury stays for dinner but leaves before they get to the obligatory dessert – nothing fancy, no one is really in the mood for fixing something time-consuming – and then they slowly disappear from the penthouse, everyone going back to their own engagements.

'We will still be a team – no separating us, Tony. Don't worry. We will just… cooperate with other people to get the best results we can,' Steve rephrases his earlier words when he walks Tony to the workshop. He sounds tired; everyone sounds perpetually tired these days.

'I know,' Tony sighs; knowing doesn't mean he likes it. He really doesn't. For the last two years Tony's been insisting that they are not soldiers and well, now they are about to become exactly that.

He nods though and waves at Steve before disappearing behind the opaque glass wall; JARVIS has all the current events summarized on the main screen already. Time to go back to the real work.

A/N: This story is different from what I usually write so all feedback is very welcome. I'd love to know what you think. I hope I got you intrigued ;)