No.
No!
NO!
This couldn't be the end. There had to be more. It had to be an illusion.
Just a deception.
One of the Stones did that, right?
RIGHT?!
One outcome. One possible outcome where they would win. That's what the crazy wizard with the hand movements promised, wasn't it? That's why they fought so hard.
There wasn't any way this could be it.
Though…
That dick of a Starlord screwed things up pretty badly. They could have had the gauntlet—almost had it, nearly had it. They could have taken the Stones from Thanos. Had Quill just followed the plan—the one he claimed credit for—he could have had revenge for the death of his green girlfriend. There could have been a better outcome.
A promised outcome.
But…
Just like that…
Gone.
And not just Starlord.
They're all gone. The wizard. Mr. Clean. Bug girl.
Gone.
Dust.
Blown away by the softest of breezes. Here one minute, gone the next. Like soft sand slipping gently through fingers without the warmth and fun in the beach sun.
Mr. Stark. I don't feel so good.
He can't breathe, can't do anything. Hand pressed against his mouth. A typhoon of emotions rage within strangling every last bit of oxygen from his lungs.
I don't know—I don't know what's happening.
Tony didn't either. Not that he could tell the kid. Not that he could admit there was a chance of failure. With over fourteen million disastrous scenarios, they had chosen the only one capable of winning. Or so he'd been told.
I don't wanna go. Please.
He blinks. Had the wizard lied? Was there no possible way to win?
I'm sorry.
His lip quivers as trembles rattle through his bones.
A kid far too young. A kid with so much life ahead of him. The kid he encouraged to be a superhero.
Another life he was responsible for taking.
As punishment, he's left with the crazy blue chick who has clearly seen better days.
Her dark eyes are on him, watching closely, judging his actions. She's a predator on this damned moon where everything's been lost. A predator who's eying him as if he's some sort of fresh meat. A predator intent on killing.
Would it matter if he died?
Would it change anything?
Was there anyone left to care?
If he accepts death, however, then Strange had surrendered the Time Stone for no reason.
Idiot, Tony thinks as he sits in the deep red dirt. His gaze slowly takes in the rubble he's settled on. While he realized earlier where he was, he tried like hell to ignore it. However, it's been in his nightmares for years, ranking top one—out of five.
Five things he's worked to prepare for.
One he failed bitterly at.
Parker can't be…
He stops as a nagging burn courses through his chest. How can he say anything? How can he do anything? No, he can't talk about it. If he talks about it, it becomes real.
It becomes fact.
It becomes one truth he can't bear to accept.
They simply aren't gone. They're not dead. All he has to do is wait until this vision ends. He's been susceptible to mind control before. This is simply another one of those illusions. When it fades, they'll all be back. They'll have won.
The blue woman's movements catch his attention. She saunters to him, like a leopard towards its prey. Her head turns slightly to the right. "We can't stay here."
"I have to. When they come back—"
"They're not coming back," she rebukes, her breathy voice laced with annoyance. "Thanos has the gauntlet and he's gotten rid of them. Forever."
He hangs his head low as the setting sun. How could things have gone so awry? He'd barely just dreamed of having a child only to wake to his worst nightmare.
What he wouldn't give to have died all those years ago in the portal.
Then the kid would still be alive.
Taking a few steps, the crazy blue lady looks back at him. Aggravation is written thick on her face in the form of a scowl. "Have it your way. Perhaps thousands of years from now they'll find your irritating corpse still clinging to these steps."
With a sharp breath, Tony turns his face to the darkening sky. She's wrong. They have to meet him here. They have to come back. They have to come home.
It isn't over.
However, the nagging in his chest is growing and spiraling out of control. It's telling him what he knows but can't bring himself to admit. The dark truth weighs heavy on his soul.
Looking at the blue chick, he bites his cheek.
*TiC* TiC* TiC*
Bucky.
Bucky?
One minute there, the next gone. Just as he had been for years. It's a twisted game Steve's more used to than he'd like to admit. One they've played more times than they should. After all, his friend has had enough sorrows for a million lifetimes.
But by the same token, so has he.
As Wakanda—the world—disintegrates into chaos, he finds himself at a loss for words. He doesn't know what he says to help nor what his body is doing. His muscles shift into autopilot as his brain also recognizes Sam's gone. As is Wanda.
But Bucky…
He'd lost him once, twice, and now a third.
His best friend. The one who's always been there with him. For him.
But not…
Not til the end of the line…
He turns to look for Vision, hoping the android can make sense of things. Provide some sort of wisdom. It's only then Steve remembers he's another among the lost.
At least that's a body they can bury.
Maneuvering through the field, assisting where he can, he comes upon the little raccoon from earlier. It's gaze shifts from person to person. Its movements are quick, gun ready to fire at a moment's notice. Steve recognizes that as angry as the little creature appears, he's actually quite frightened.
Drawing near to the raccoon, Steve kneels down and extends a hand. "Steve Rogers."
The creature turns to him, his furry face taken aback with a quirked brow. His rough voice is laced with unconcern, and possibly irritation—though his eyes tell a far different story. "So?"
"Not quite sure we got to meet earlier. Thought I'd formally introduce myself."
"You humans and your customs," the raccoon snorts. However, he does keep a close watch on him. "Rocket."
"Nice to meet you."
"Likewise." The raccoon looks over the field again, but his ears drop back, and he winces before looking at the ground. Clearing his throat, he looks at Steve. "You friends with the metal arm dude?"
Steve nods.
"Too bad he couldn't have left that."
—Incoming Transmission—
Hey yo!
Hope you're recovering from the movie!
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—End Transmission—
