"Mina, I need a location on Tony right now..."

This I said as I worked my way through the crowds under the Tent of Tomorrow at the opening of the Stark Expo. Hello, it's Andy Stark again. In case you're wondering, yes, I really am the little sister of Tony Stark and "twin" of the one and only Iron Man. As of this moment, it's six months after the accidental debacle I unleashed when I announced that Tony and I were the two armored butt-kickers of the "robotic prototype", which was really Obadiah Stane and was now very dead.

In the meantime, here's the general breakdown of stuff that's happened these past few months.

Me: As Trinity, I've worked maybe thirty-or-so covert operations for the military, backed up by Mental Imaging Network Artificial – Mina, my personal AI. Most of my runs were with a small team from whatever branch of military called me in; so far, I've worked with army, marines, and air force. Not to mention those Ten Rings mongrels? Oh yeah. I've taken a few more personal missions out on them myself. Great fun. As myself, I've kept up with hacking and upgrading my suit. My main targets, since the Department of Defense canned Stark Industries' military contract, has been the office of the Secretary of Defense and Hammer Industries, who'd taken over our former claim. There's another problem, but I'll get to that later, since it likely applies to Tony, as well.

Tony: As Iron Man, he's done maybe fifteen public warfare missions against whoever the military wants him to go for. He's also done a lot of posing and interview-giving for the media, which I don't find very useful at all. As himself, Tony's become an overall jerk, again: partying, drinking, and acting as if everything we'd gone through in the cave had never happened. Thankfully, there weren't any women – yet. Not to mention he's gotten obsessed with the idea of legacy, so, almost automatically and despite Dad's letter – yeah. I was back to hating Howard Stark. I can't be blamed though; you try to get on with your life and have your older brother, at least once a day, ask, mostly to himself, "I wonder what Dad would say."

Not to mention it was Tony's idea to run the Expo this year, for the entire year, as another dimension of his new ego-tripping and legacy-desperate state. Of course, I do have a partial idea exactly why Tony might be doing all this, but I did still have that childish hope of invincibility when it came to him. But whatever it was, it applied to me, maybe him, and if we didn't do anything it'd likely mean our lives.

Some weeks ago – maybe more like a couple months – I starting noticing that I was getting exhausted more and more easily, and that my reactor was starting to flicker on occasion. Now, this isn't the old reactor; this was a new one that used strips of palladium that could be inserted into the reactor, a special design by Tony to simplify the general idea of the reactor. But it turned out that palladium was too unstable for that very design – I figured – and the strips were starting to die out. My first strip of palladium, since swapping the reactors, died about two weeks ago; I had a feeling that this next one was soon to go, itself.

Mina had figured that the palladium was starting to poison my body, making matters worse. That was a fact that I wasn't sharing with Tony, and I sometimes thought he wasn't sharing it with me, either. I don't remember a time when Tony had kept a secret from me, and that fact felt like a new gulf had suddenly ripped between us. I hated it, but I would wait for Tony to make the move this time.

Keira Knightley's voice sighed from the earpiece of my iPhone, and I had to plug one ear as AC/DC's Shoot to Thrill came on. I swear my jaw fell slack when I saw a line of maybe fourteen dancing girls, scantily costumed in glowing knockoffs of Tony's mark three, high-kick onto the stage. I would've turned to be sick if I hadn't been pushed to the front row, near where the music was loudest and the girlish screams were sharpest. I was just glad I could still hear Mina through the entire racket.

"You're not going to like it," she noted, voice singsongy and upbeat even though I knew that, like me, she was twirked off. Mina was about as annoyed as I was over Tony's sudden transformation, and had, on many occasions, actually gotten past Jarvis, Tony's AI, to shut down Tony's mark four. Yes, I say mark four. Tony has no capability of settling on a final product.

"Let me guess," I sighed as I looked towards the roof. Open window. And I'd already noticed the waiting gurney underneath, as well as lights of a plane overhead as I was walking in. You notice things when you start reading Sherlock Holmes. "He's a few thousand feet above my head and is about to dramatically decrease that distance."

"Yep."

"Great."

And you guessed it. About when fireworks started going off overhead, I saw a bristling white contrail starting to sail downwards, through the colorful barrage of shells, and it grew into the full-size, red and gold mark four missile that contained my brother, Anthony Edward Stark, as he landed in a crouch, then stood to an adoring crowd, pyrotechnic sparks and the chorus line behind him. I was standing in the middle of it all, watching him be unsuited, and I glared. Each time he turned to me, I glared him dead in the eye, and despite the smiles he threw the crowd, I saw the flicker of shame in his eyes. He knew I was pissed at him.

I left before he started on his speech – likely to be all about legacy, again – and retreated to a fountain-dotted reflecting pool that stretched from the Tent of Tomorrow to the Unisphere, a metal globe that gently rotated on a tilt that mirrored that of the Earth. Since most of everyone who was at the Expo was crammed in or around the Tent, it was wonderfully, amazingly quiet, and I strolled casually down one of the sidewalks, glad to be away from the noise and the crowds. I paused once on my way towards the Unisphere, and that was to pull out my iPhone again. I'd programmed an app that allowed me to check my palladium toxicity, and I gently pressed the camera part of the phone against my palm while the app ran.

"Toxicity result, twelve percent," Mina sighed from the phone. "Well, it's not bad."

"Not yet, it isn't," I answered before stowing my phone. That was a bad idea, because a tinny version of Back in Black scratched from the inadequate speaker; Tony's personal ringtone. I looked down at the phone in my pocket as the opening riff started up again, and I decided to go ahead and answer. A muted version of the insanity behind me started echoing in my ear as I bitterly snapped, "What."

"Hey," Tony replied. If he said anything else, I couldn't hear it, and I rolled my eyes after a few beats of silence.

"You know, if you're calling just for the hell of it, your timing couldn't be worse," I insisted, but I paused as I heard a hurried shuffling of hands. Either Tony was in the middle of signing autographs...or he was up to something else. I was distracted from asking him what he was up to as Tony started up again.

"Yeah, well, I just figure that they probably would've liked an appearance from Trinity," he began, "you being all cloak-and-dagger on us more often than not. See, this's why I get help planning this stuff..."

"I am not walking up there," I insisted sharply. "I refuse to sink to your level."

"Yeah...figured as much," Tony sighed, and I was about to go off on my usual tirade – what kind of monster are you turning into, all that – when I heard him hiss in pain faintly. It's not like Tony to be injured in a civilian capacity, so my concern took over from my annoyance as I stopped walking, water hissing off to my left.

"Tony?" I asked, brows furrowed. Maybe...maybe he was testing his own toxicity. I hoped not. "You all right? Anything wrong? Tourist or fangirl get too close?"

"Fine," Tony replied, and I heard the noise mute as he started walking. "None of the above. Nearly ended up walking into a door, if you can believe it."

"Liar," I snorted. I could easily picture Tony's brows shooting up on his forehead; he always did that when he tried to lie. I'd been seeing it fairly often. "Anyway, I'm headed home, if you plan on catching up. I know I've got better things to do, and I'm pretty sure you do, too."

"Andy..." he started saying, and my careful grip on my phone tightened. I silently begged him to tell me, even as I started walking again, slowly, because crowds were starting to leave the pavilion behind me. But Tony didn't say anything more. Instead, I heard a faint sigh, then a click. My heart wrenched and my jaw slackened slightly.

He'd hung up on me.

I lowered my phone, staring at it in disbelief before my anger spiked up again. I chucked it into the nearest fountain, swearing under my breath before digging out my Bluetooth "implant", slipping it over my ear. He was getting more and more useless by the day, and I was starting to get tired of playing the adult in this family. I started marching out of the Expo, headed for the nearest parking lot and my motorcycle.

"I think he thinks he's protecting you from something," Mina noted dryly as I got close to my black bike with gold details. It was custom-built, compact like the speedster bikes that pretty much forced you to ride with your knees in your chest, but had enough power and weight that, mercifully, I could be seated upright. I sighed as I leaned against the seat, adjusting the bud in my ear.

"Y'know, if he'd just come out and say he's gettin' sick, too, I wouldn't be in this stupid situation," I grumbled in reply before reaching into one of the concealed storage compartments to retrieve my helmet, which was fairly average compared to everything else that I owned. I could imagine Mina shrugging helplessly as I pulled on the plain black plastic, lowering the visor and about to climb onto my seat when I spotted a square of white paper taped to the leather.

"Mina."

"Yeah?"

"I thought I had an anti-tampering system installed on this thing."

"I didn't get any signals anyone was even in proximity."

I frowned, picking up the envelope and glancing it over. My name was on it, certainly, but I didn't get any clues as to its origin until I decided to open it. The contents boasted a Department of Defense letterhead, and the second sheet was a summons from Congress. The DoD letter was, interestingly enough, a letter from the Stark Industries military liaison, Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, but better known to both me and Tony as Rhodey. Of course, with Tony's recent slump, I hadn't seen much of Rhodey, and I knew it was either because Tony was pushing him away, or Rhodey's superiors were trying to use him to make one of us give up a suit. Knowing Tony and knowing Rhodey's superiors, I figured both. I separated the two papers, folding the subpoena and stuffing it into a pocket before reading Rhodey's letter.

Andy, it began, perfectly typed:

Wish I could've kept this from happening, but it is. Just be yourself, and the committee won't dream of punishing you like they're planning on punishing Tony. I'll be in town; looks like I might get my own hearing, which isn't making my day look any better. I'll meet up with you guys afterward, or you, if Tony's still in his mood.

All the best, and see you soon,

Rhodey

The last bit was handwritten, and I couldn't help but grin. Well, at least I'd get backup for my hearing. I carefully folded the letter to go back into its envelope and tucked it into the storage slot my helmet had been in before straddling my bike and cranking the keys in the ignition. When the engine roared, I eased the bike out of its parking spot, and started for the ramp to the southbound highway.

"Mina, how far's DC?"

"Couple hundred miles, give or take," Mina sighed. I smiled; programming an AI to have sarcasm was no mean feat, but Mina was an expert at it. "Get on the highway and crank maybe seventy or so, should get there before daylight."

"You read my mind," I chuckled before I revved the bike up the on-ramp and started tearing south. Maybe Flushing, New York wasn't the best start point for such a journey, but at least it would get me out of town.

There wasn't even any traffic on the way out of New York and into Pennsylvania, and I was nodding along to the Rolling Stones in perfect contentment and solitude. Or would've-been perfect, if it wasn't for a set of headlights zooming up behind me right as Paint It, Black started strumming in my ears. I didn't look closely at my follower, but I sped up, breaking eighty miles an hour and engine roaring. Another glance out my mirror, and I saw the other driver was still right behind me. Chasing me.

Now who did that sound like?

I slowed enough – seventy-five or so – that I was comfortable with turning a bit more fully, and I spotted the glinting Audi logo on the car behind me, along with a familiar silhouette. I rolled my eyes and grumbled incoherently as I changed lanes, allowing Tony to pull even with me before Mina automatically dialed his cell phone. I watched him pull it out and flip it open out of the corner of my eye, even though he glanced at me.

"Tony, I don't appreciate being tailed by semi-psychotic jerks right now," I spat by way of greeting, and I saw him look at me, a faint grin on his face. He thought I was being funny.

"Semi-psychotic? That's new; it's good," he commented in reply. I was still tempted to strangle him.

"Well, you're sure acting it," I retorted blandly. "Now, get off my tail, will ya? I need to go piss off my very favorite senator when the sun rises."

"Oh, you, too?"

I had to swallow back a groan. My day was just getting better and better.

"I refuse to sit next to you."

"Hey, I'm sitting where they make me sit."

"And if you so much as try to be a jerk, I'll personally kick your ass when we get home."

This wasn't an empty threat; it was a semi-true fact. I'd conscripted Mina into helping me get better with hand-to-hand, and, with Tony getting a boxing ring for his practices with Happy Hogan, his combination driver and bodyguard, it was easy enough to spar in there, with Mina controlling my suit and very thickly padded to avoid giving me broken bones or worse. I was an excellent mixed martial artist, and Mina informed me that, combined, her and my hand-eye coordination in the suit were superhuman. I just had to keep that from being ruined with a bad day.

Tony was dead silent at my threat, because I knew he knew I meant it. I hung up on the call with a brief rap against my helmet, and I revved my bike back up to speed, tearing away from Tony. This time, he didn't try to follow me. I wouldn't have minded it so much if he wasn't currently acting like he wasn't my brother. The problem with that was that we were what was left of our family.

And not having Tony acting like my big brother made me feel like I was all alone in the world. It was the worst feeling ever.