The Second Stark [COMPLETED STORY]

-forty three-

"I got an email."

"You get hundreds of emails a day."

"This one is special," he smirked.

"And why is that Anthony?"

"You wouldn't happen to remember our little investigation would you?"

"I remember it well."

"I got a list of everything Raina stole from you, she's willing to give it back."

"This is what I meant by thick-headed."

"She wasnts $3,000,000 for it, I'll pay up. This is my fault."

"She has copies you dumbass."

"I will trace them for copies you dumbass. Come on, I'm a genius."

"I'm starting to wonder what you think genius means."

"Let's talk."
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Tony and I went over every possibility, the good and the bad of going through with this deal. I was still against it, not fully persuaded. Even though there may not be copies made, she could've taken a picture on a separate camera. Am I wrong?
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Tony really seemed confident in this. He said the Avengers were ready to help if needed, but I didn't want to drag them into this. This is my fault, and I'm not letting my friends fight my battles.
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The only way to make sure she wouldn't release them is to kill her. I hate to say to say it but it's the truth. The truth is what needs to be said at a time like this. Lies won't be tolerated, I need to be able to trust everyone around me.
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I say that, but I feel that I can trust no one. Ever since Africa, I've been wary. I may not have showed it, but I don't give too many personal details. I let the other party do most of the talking.
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I have a bad feeling about all of this. All of it. I don't want Raina to die but if it comes down to it, so be it. I'll kill Raina with my own two hands if it stops those files from getting released.
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I've never killed anyone before. That first mission, I knocked them out and someone else did the rest. Back then, I couldn't bring myself to doing that. Taking someone's life is one of the worst things a person can do in my eyes.
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I'm not who I was a few months ago. In just that short amount of time, so many things happened I just kind of... hardened. Not totally, I still feel guilt and sadness, but only when it's really needed.
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I don't dwell on mistakes, they've happened, move on. Of course, killing someone would not be any help to bringing me back to the girl I once knew and loved, but it could help others, which is exactly what she would have done.
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I don't want you to think I am a sociopath. I'm not, I swear. I just think this world is too cruel to be too sensitive. If you don't have a shell, you'll be crushed. That's just how things work now.
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I remember those simplier times. Making machines and going to school. Planning my trip to Africa instead of planning a death mission with my twin brother. Everything was easier. Easier to understand, easier to be sensitive.
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"Anthony? I think I have a plan."
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