(It goes without saying, massive spoilers ahead!)
It all started when the aliens began to fade away like dust. Falling to the ground helplessly, as the ashes spread into the air. Maybe it's cruel to say aloud, but I smiled at the sight. Those bastards were annoying as hell to fight.
We won. Finally... after five long years.
I guess the weird wizard-doctor-man was right all along. We saved everyone who was lost in the snap. And those who died, their sacrifices weren't in vain. If it weren't for them, we wouldn't be here right now.
And I know Natasha would be proud of us, too; We stopped Thanos by giving him a taste of his own medicine. Just how she would've wanted it.
Karma works in wondrous ways, I suppose.
It didn't take long to search for everyone else. They were all crowded in a circle. Celebrating. I was sure of it. I ran towards them, smile plastered on my face.
Knowing Tony, he probably already has champagne glasses out, ready to make a dramatic speech we will all toast to. Everything will finally be okay, I thought to myself. We can all be together.
But as I approached them, it became very obvious that something was very wrong.
I open my mouth to ask, but I firmly shut it when I see the object— or more accurately, the person— they were surrounding.
His skin was ashen, and his eyes were wide. His mouth was moving, but no coherent words came out. The infinity stones attached to his burnt hand told me enough about what had happened. No, no, this couldn't be real.
I try to speak, just say something, anything, but nothing comes out.
The kid. The one who Tony took under his wing, Peter I think, he was trying to remain calm. He was trying to soothe Tony in his last moments, but he was just a kid. Too young for war, too young to witness death this firsthand.
"We won, Mr. Stark... we won..." His voice trembled. He was on the verge of tears, if not already crying. "We did it..." his voice cracked, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. I'm so, so sorry, Tony please."
I swallow the lump in my throat. Tony... The reality of the situation begin to settle into my conscious. He was dying. The man who couldn't seem to die, was flickering away right in front of us, and there was nothing we could do about it. We were absolutely helpless.
I step forward... maybe to pull the kid away, maybe to try and talk to my friend one last time, I'm not too sure, but either way, Pepper beats me to it.
Even from the distance I was standing, I could see the light in Tony's eyes begin to regain focus at the sight of her. Familiarity. His hand twitched. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face.
"Oh, Tony... look at me," She spoke soothingly. By the grace of God, or some other outer-worldly being, she was able to keep her composure.
"We're going to be okay." She nodded at him slightly as she spoke, almost like she really believed it herself. Almost.
Her smile faltered, as if she didn't want to say it aloud, that maybe, if she said it, everything would suddenly become real. It was easy to recognize a feeling I knew all too well.
"You... You can rest now," She forced out.
His eyes bore down at her, as she was the only thing grounding him to this life. She stroked his face, one last time. He reached up and held onto her arm for dear life.
"It's okay, Tony." Her lip trembled. I could hear Thor struggling to keep it together at my side. I didn't even attempt keeping it together. Tears welled in my eyes.
T'challa walked the kid away from the scene. Peter followed reluctantly.
You could hear a pin drop. His frame fell lax. His hand fell away to his side. And like a flame that flickered out far too soon, the light began to fade from his arc reactor. Before it was gone, she gripped his hand, tightly, as if she could somehow keep him here with her. The light slowly dissipated, and just like that, he was gone.
Trembling, she kissed him on the cheek, holding his arm gently. Like a dam broke open, she finally began to sob, collapsing onto him.
I couldn't even speak a word to him... but maybe that was a good thing I didn't speak to him. I don't think I deserved to be the last voice Tony heard.
Though we spent many years as friends, we spent many years as enemies. We resolved it, but... him considering us friends? It seemed unlikely. Coworkers at best.
I guess at the end of the day it doesn't matter what our relationship was. He was surrounded by the people he loved, even if I wasn't included.
But thinking that makes my chest hurt, because he... he was important to me, damnit. And as selfish as it is, I don't know if I can live with the thought of him hating me.
We lived in the same building for years, and were almost like a family. He was truly the backbone of the Avengers, and now, he was gone.
Without speaking, Pepper closed his blankly staring eyes with her hand, as a last and final regard. Letting him have his well-deserved rest. She stood up and walked away. She sat down several yards away, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. Rhodey followed her, sitting next to her, and putting a comforting hand on her back.
Carol stepped up towards Tony's body. She took the infinity stones from the suit, and handed them to Bruce. He mumbled out a quiet "Thanks,", as he stared conflictingly at the stones. The stones had been used to both kill billions, and bring them back, each time costing us dozens— if not hundreds— of lives.
She nodded at him militarily. Without another word, she unnervingly carried Tony's body over her shoulder. Though I know, looking back, she didn't mean any harm by it, it caused everyone to be on edge.
"Where do you want this?" This. Like Tony was just a This. Like he wasn't a goddamn hero who saved the entire universe, including planet wherever-the-fuck-ville where she lived. I know I shouldn't be angry, but her comment was as if she was referring to moving a damn coffee machine not a human being.
"'Him'," Wanda, unexpectedly, corrected with a slight hiss to her voice. I look over at her. She was not crying, but she was close. She has lost so much in her young life, it seems like she was at her tipping point. Carol paused, studying Wanda.
"...Him." Carol eventually corrected herself.
"Maybe—" Bruce began, but I could only hear Tony's echoing voice in my head.
We needed you. As in past tense. That trumps whatever you need. It's too late, buddy.
I said, 'we'd lose,', you said, 'we'll do that together, too,'...Guess what, Cap? We lost. You weren't there.
The words repeated over and over again in my mind, taunting me.
I stare at Tony's lifeless body tossed around like a potato sack, until decidedly I can't look anymore. I didn't want to believe Stark was dead.
Next thing I know we're suddenly on a spaceship. We sat in collective silence as Tony was put into a temporary casket until we got home. The Wakandans spoke a prayer over him.
I could tell Clint was ready to see his family again, though. He looked anxious and slightly guilty. I give him a reassuring smile. He returns it, relieved. I don't blame him for being happy in midst of this tragedy. He hasn't seen his family in five years. If anyone deserves this, it's Clint.
Peter, the boy from Queens, stared at his feet dejectedly. He has completely shut down since Tony's death. The kid, who was the most talkative person I have ever met, hadn't said a word for hours. Hadn't called his mom and dad to tell them he's alive or nothing. I wonder if the kid will ever get over it. I hope he does. He's still young and has a bright future ahead of him.
If I hadn't known better, I would've thought the kid just lost his dad or something. I guess him and Tony were closer than I thought.
Pepper came in and informed us all of the funeral service that will take place at home, she thinks. She wasn't decided yet.
Then, everyone went home. Like nothing ever happened. Like this was just a regular Tuesday afternoon.
Maybe it's bad to say, but I don't feel happy.
I feel like I should feel happy. Billions of people who died, were now alive now. It should be a cause of celebration. We should be partying.
I don't feel like opening a bottle of champagne, though.
...
At the funeral. I can only think of all the words I didn't say; out of fear of rejection... because it wasn't 'us' to talk about stuff like that... or simply put, out of pride.
I don't ever recall thanking Tony for everything he has done for all of us. For me. Though it was pennies to him, he provided us with food, a place to stay, weapons, armor... but most importantly, a family.
I stare at the broken shield in my hand, which occurs to me now, will never be fixed. Why did I accept it back? Why didn't I try to preserve the one last thing his father built? The one last memory I had of the Stark's, I tarnished it.
I wanted to say sorry. For everything. For arguing like children, and then us apologizing half-assed for it. We both were responsible for the shitty things that happened, but I should've taken the higher road. I was Captain America for God's sake. I should've apologized when I had the chance.
I didn't... I didn't apologize, why didn't I?
I stare up at the beautiful lake in front of me with a sigh.
I guess to some degree, we were the same in that regard. It was a shitty thing that happened, and we both did an extremely shitty job of handling it. I think, wherever Tony is now, he would agree with me on that one.
There were so many things I wished I could have said to him before he was gone. It may be foolish thinking, but I think he might've felt the same. We never really got to talk things out.
"Hey, Steve." I look up at the sound of my name. Bucky sat next to me on the bench. I try to smile, but it falls short.
"Hey." I respond as neutral as I can, hiding my thoughts. It would've worked on anyone else, but he quirked an eyebrow. He knows me too well.
He didn't say anything. Simply staring out at the lake, sitting with me. It's what I needed. He finally spoke up after a few minutes.
"I didn't really know him. Other than, you know..." Bucky started. I nod understandingly.
"He was a good man," I respond. A great man, in fact. The most human out of all of us Avengers, yet was more of a superhero than we ever could be.
"Seemed like it..."
We sat in another comfortable silence for a moment.
"I don't know if he knew that or not," I admit. He shot me a quizzical look.
"What do you mean?" He asked. I look away, partially out of shame.
"We didn't... resolve things. Not really anyway. We shared a few words here and there, but we didn't really talk about it.." To my surprise, he laughed.
"Is that what you're worried about? He very clearly cared about you, Cap."
"'Cared', past tense." Bad choice of words on my part. A flashback of our previous argument ensued.
"No. He wouldn't have done everything he did if he hated you," He said.
"Doesn't mean he liked me, either, Buck."
"Well... maybe I'm wrong, but what you guys all had, seemed like a family to me. A f—... messed up one, but a family nonetheless."
I don't respond, but I pondered his words. He continued.
"A lot of times, especially with family, I think, you never say quite what you want to. But actions speak louder than words. Even if it was never said aloud, you clearly cared for each other."
For the first time in the last forty-eight hours, I felt light. The burden of guilt I didn't even know I was holding onto was lifted ever so slightly. Not all the way, but I know that will come with time.
I used to think to myself about what Tony and I's relationship could've been. Maybe somewhere out there, in some universe, in some alternate timeline, perhaps, we could have existed in a world without powers, without aliens, without monsters, without infinity stones, without a worldwide crisis every six months, and maybe in that universe... we could've been closer. Talked to each other about our problems, complained about traffic and our overbearing bosses, the whole normie shebang.
But... looking back, I think I'm okay with how our relationship in this timeline went. Even if we had a lot of rough patches, and, were socially and physically were very distant for most of it. We also always had each other's backs, with, usually, selfless intents.
Even when Tony wanted nothing to do with us, or the Avengers, he came back around to help us build the time machine. During the fight, I can't tell you the countless times we looked over at each other, constantly checking if the other needed help. Little things, little signs of trust we shared.
So, I guess— even with everything we went through— the unspoken bond we shared never really broke.
"Thanks, Bucky. You have no idea how much I really needed to hear that," I sigh. He pulled me into a side hug, patting me a couple times on the shoulder.
"Anytime, Cap."