I got inspired to write this after seeing a post about Infinity War, so the idea is for this one-shot is NOT original! Credits for the idea goes to whoever posted it (I don't know the original poster). This one-shot however, is my work.

Strange Endings

Tony Stark fell to his knees, pulling his mask off his face. Thanos had been killed in a fiery ball of light, when they'd managed to all hit him at once, using everything they had. It had looked bleak for a while, this coming from a guy who'd been kidnapped by terrorists. Though, come to think of it, much larger scale things had happened since then.

Looking around him, his thankfully living teammates and friends were in varying states of shock. Steve Rogers sat on the ground next to him, slightly out of breath. His helmet had been blown off halfway through the fight, and one side of his face was covered in ashes. His uniform was torn, and the new shield made for him by Shuri dented and scraped. "We did it again, Cap." He gave one of his trademark smirks, but it lacked the usual smugness that came with it. He was worn out, more so than he'd ever been in his life. I need to retire. "Although, you look like shit."

Steve gave a half-hearted smile, wincing as he touched the burnt flesh on his forearm. "You aren't looking too hot yourself."

It's a good thing Pepper wasn't here right now. Not just because she likely would have died in the intense battle, but she would be fussing over him like nobody's business. He could feel the blood that had dried on his temple, and more matting his hair. He was covered in sweat, and didn't want to know how many bruises he would see once he took off the suit.

"Mr. Stark!" The billionaire turned his head as the childish voice of his new recruit called him. "I was looking for you."

He hadn't wanted Peter to join in this battle, not one bit. He'd just gotten himself involved after seeing the portal appear. "Hey, kid." He looked him up and down, nodding approvingly at the suit. At least it had kept him relatively unharmed throughout the fight. "You ready to go back to being the friendly, neighborhood Spider-man yet?"

Peter looked back to where the dust was still settling, giving out a low whistle. "At least for a little while."

He surveyed the remains of the city; everything in sight had been demolished for several blocks. A few hundred feet away, he could see Clint freeing Natasha from some rubble that had fallen on her, and gave a sigh of relief when she got up alright.

Wanda was crying, mourning Vision. He was the one they hadn't managed to save. Thanos' goons had ruthlessly yanked the stone from his forehead early on in the fight, and the witch seemed to do an okay job of holding it together until now. He felt bad for her, first her brother and now her lover.

The Winter Soldier was walking to where him, Steve, and Peter were. In everything, he'd subconsciously forgiven the supersoldier for everything that had happened two months ago. Was it really that short? It felt like ages ago. He offered his hand when Bucky approached. "Good work." He shook the metal hand, which was still warm from everything that had happened.

Bucky nodded, "You're welcome."

The aliens, the human, the raccoon, and the tree thing were clearly a little ways away, taking an inventory of each other and tending to any injuries.

He sighed, and something, or someone, he hadn't seen so far caught his eye. The blue and red-clad Dr. Stephen Strange was kneeling in the rubble by himself. He was covered head to toe in debris and ash, and seemed to be breathing harder than everyone else. Tony left the others to walk over to him.

"Hey, Doc." He greeted cautiously. He hadn't seen Strange get injured too badly in the fight, but maybe he hadn't noticed anything. "You okay?"

Stephen looked up at him. His face was bruised, dirtied, and he had blood all over his hands. His eyes were simultaneously empty and full of more emotions than Tony had ever seen in one person's face. His mouth remained in a tight line, as he breathed raggedly. The Eye of Agamotto wore scrapes interrupting the intricate carvings, and it was clutched in his hand as presumably the chain had snapped.

At the lack of a verbal response, Tony prompted, "Strange, are you hurt?"

The eyes made contact with his own, as a "Go away, Stark," was barely audible.

He nearly took a step back, confused. He couldn't remember having done anything to piss off the doctor - in fact they hadn't gotten along too bad when they'd met a few days ago. He opened his mouth to say something else, ask once again if the man required medical assistance because he wasn't acting himself.

Sure, no one would be after something like this, but he'd already had a similar experience in defeating Dormammu, hadn't he?

He was cut off before he could start talking. "Leave." The word was bitter, and stronger than the last demand given.

He stepped back hesitantly and looking him up and down, before nodding and walking away.

Dr. Strange POV

Left alone once more, he ran a thumb over the relic in his hand. It was badly damaged, but could be fixed. Thoughts of the present only ran on the surface of his mind, however. Beneath thoughts of the billionaire that just couldn't leave him be and the Eye of Agamotto, were darker ones, memories from only an hour or so before.

Thanos defeated them, time and time again. His teammates were dying before his eyes. Looking at Tony, he could only picture the first time he'd died, wiped out in one explosion along with several of the others, completely obliterated as only bits of his suit remained and flew in all directions. The second, when Thanos brought one ugly purple fist down on his head and left his crumpled body lying amongst the rubble. The third, when he'd thrown himself in from of the spider kid to save him. They had both died anyways.

The kid. He was only fifteen, and thoughts of his death plagued Strange more than many of the others. His deaths were more frequent, getting wiped out more than anyone else. He was too young for something like this. Peter Parker threw himself into the fight, giving it his all. It had killed him seventeen times.

He reversed time, over, and over, and over. He'd lost count, only keeping track of the deaths as each one haunted him. He'd never used so much magic in one day. Really, it was multiple days he'd been doing this. A week. He wanted to save everyone. He couldn't though, and when they got through the fight only losing Vision, he had to take it. It was the lowest death toll so far.

His eyes were unfocused, as he was deep into his thoughts. From a few feet away, his ears could pick up Wanda's broken sobs over the one he'd failed to save.

So he sat there, everyone's deaths playing in his exhausted mind like a recorded tape. Stark, eight. Black Widow, ten. Barton, twelve. Barnes, nine. Cap, eight. He didn't know how many times he'd reset the playing field, and didn't want to.

Okay, so this was a short little thing, and kind of depressing to write. But hey, of all the things that could happen to our beloved characters in Infinity War, this is the least tear-inducing, right?

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