Tony Stark looks at a boggart and it morphs into dead things. Dead parents. Dead avengers. Dead friends. And then dead innocents. People who others don't expect to see. A woman with blonde hair and blood splattered clothes, a boy with dark skin and a bullet in his chest. And next to each is broken things, broken armor that wasn't enough. Broken gadgets that failed and allowed death. Broken missiles emblazoned with a prideful STARK INDUSTRIES. Because these people are dead, and it's because of him.

Natasha Romanoff steps in front of tony and looks at a boggart and suddenly she's staring at herself. Younger, colder, with anger in her eyes and an emptiness in her chest. She stands, alone, blood red lips and the shadows of dozens of souls lies upon her head. Guns in her hands and knives in her belt, and murder in her mind. She takes orders. She lunges forward, eyes cold and dead but intelligent and calculating. She goes for the throat, strategic and precise, a million instincts assessing every move. This is a killer, this is a machine, this is everything they made her. And she never broke free, and she never will.

Steve Rogers turns Natasha away and looks at a boggart and Peggy is standing before him. It confuses him at first (how can Peggy be his worst fear?) but then she starts to speak. What are you doing. She says. You're on the wrong side of the fight. All you've done is kill. We made a mistake. We should never have created you. She speaks until he questions everything he's ever done, everything that he believes he is. She says, you fight for 'freedom' on behalf of those who foster control. Stop. And Steve is reeling, because if this isn't right then what is he supposed to do? Her accusing eyes pierce him and seize upon his every insecurity and doubt. Without the fight, what is he really?

Thor Odinson leaps in front of a boggart and there's fire. Fire and lightning and destruction and Asgard is burning. The golden towers collapse, and the heat singes his skin. He looks in horror at the image of the golden city, his city, his home, alight with flame. Thunder cracks and lightning strikes a tower, sending it crumbling to the ground. Underneath, people, his people, perish under falling stone. Screams echo from the phantom image. More lightning rains down. This is his destruction. And a green figure is laughing. Loki, irredeemable, malicious, and crazed. Beyond hope, he kills those that come close and laugh in the blood of his people. Thor turns away, unable to watch. Loki stands nearby, staring stricken at the image of himself in his brother's worst fears and doesn't know how to feel.

Clint Barton looks at a boggart and Natasha stares back. Her eyes are cold and dead. Suddenly she pulls a knife from her belt and plunges it into her chest. With a cry Clint lunges forward, but he's too late. Natasha falls and suddenly she's Laura. Laura dead, a knife buried in her chest. Cooper dead, blood leaking from his mouth and eyes wide open. Electrocuted, Thor realizes, looking on. Lila dead, a burnt hole in her chest and a broken spine. Tony tenses beside Clint. Nathaniel dead, the body looks far too small and Clint's breath catches in his throat. An arrow stuck in his son's belly. His family dead and gone, he too late, too slow to save them from those far more powerful than him.

Bruce Banner looks at a boggart and to no one's surprise the Hulk stares back. But he's not angry. He looks scared. He looks real. Bruce stares in shock, recognizing himself. Truly himself within the Hulk's skin. Trapped. Forever. The Hulk roars, not in anger but in anguish, his eyes more Bruce Banner than the team has ever seen before. Then it runs. And in its place is Steve. Then tony. Then Clint and Nat and Thor and Fury and all of Bruce's friends and allies and trusted confidants. And all at once they raise a weapon, pointed at him. Tony pulls Bruce away before they can pull the trigger.

Loki looks at the doctor and steps quietly in front of a boggart, looking ready to face whatever appears and theres a woman with golden hair and a warm smile. A crown on her head and polite confusion her eyes, Loki's breath catches in his throat. Thor looks on in confusion and a mounting dread. She tells him she's disappointed. She tells him he's not her son, never was and never will be. She tells him she shall never love him. Never did, and never will. She tells him she would rather have a different son and that he can go do whatever he wishes; she couldn't care less. And her words are soft and airy and indifferent, and the god of mischief is crying silent tears and Thor lunges for his brother, pulling him into a tight embrace.