Producer Man; W. Maximoff ² √

If It All Ended Tommorow

"And what of the people caught in the middle of our fights?" Destiny asked, standing beside Tony, who was laying on the second lounge chair. "They didn't ask to be statistics on our casualty reports. The responsibility of the lives of the world? That shouldn't be ours to bear." She shook her head.

"The responsibility of the lives of the world?" Wanda repeated, "That is why we are Avengers. It is our job to bear."

"Tony," Natasha spoke up, "You are being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal."

"It's because he's already made up his mind." Steve deadpanned.

"Boy, you know me so well." Tony snarkily replied. He sat up and rubbed the back of his head, turning away from the group as he did, "Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache." He stood up with a grunt and walked to the adjoining kitchen. "That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain." He reached into one of the cabinets and pulled out a basic mug, "It's discomfort. Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal?" He griped.

Destiny was innocent of that crime, but she did look curiously at the other team members.

"Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?" Tony asked sharply.

Tony looked at the group, exhaustion settling in on his shoulders as he sat his phone up on the counter and gave it a tap. A projection flashed above the phone of a smiling young man. Tony sighed when no one said anything. "Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way." He pointed at the young man, "He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree. Three-point-six GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first," Tony checked to see the cold press had coffee in it and placed his mug on the underside of the press, "He wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk." Tony pressed down on the cold press. "See the world. Maybe be of service." Destiny didn't like where this was going.

"Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do," Tony added in, "He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun." He was getting hyped up, and his voice was growing tight, "He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where? Sokovia." He didn't allow them the chance to answer as he angrily dumped out the now useless coffee grinds and refilled the cold press.

Destiny could almost feel Wanda and Pietro's shock behind her.

"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose." Tony went on, "I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass." Destiny's heart seized in her chest.

Tony took a loud sip of his coffee before slamming his mug down. "There's no decision-making process here." He walked to the end of the counter and crossed his arms, "We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys." Tony seethed.

"If someone dies on your watch you don't give up." Steve spoke, arms crossed. "Who says we're giving up?" Tony asked.

"We are." Steve said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "The weight of everyone's lives rests on our shoulders, and we need to take responsibility for our actions. We might not be able to undo the hurt we've done, but we can fight to be better, we can work to be better. This,"

"This only shifts the blame."

"Maybe we need that." Destiny spoke. Steve glanced at her curiously, "Right now, the world hates us for trying to do good, these accords? Illegal as hell, we can probably get them overturned after a few months, but right now if we want to gain the trust of the public, we have to sign this shit." She argued.