Note: I posted this on AO3 right after I saw Endgame, and then totally forgot to upload it here in all the fury and furor in the fandom. Hoo boy. But here I am now, finally! Been working on Cross too, so yay! At least I've been productive lol.

la la la, I hope you enjoy this! Don't worry huns... there will absolutely be a happy ending, even if I write a lot of angst before that. :D

Let me know what you think! MUAH! xoxoxo

NEEDLESS TO SAY, THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME

(I still said it anyway, because y'never know.)

(Also: Rating will change to M later on due to adult content and violence.)


Everyone was gone.

It was dark out, and everyone had left her land. Her land. Just hers now.

Everyone had left except her and Morgan and Happy, who had fallen asleep together on the couch in the play room, watching a movie.

It was silent, just her and the rustle of the wilderness surrounding her, so si—

"Pepper."

Perhaps she was not as alone as she thought. She could've sworn she'd seen him leave with his best friends, with the other Avengers.

They had no place here.

"Captain," Pepper replied, her voice containing more emptiness than maliciousness.

She thought she'd be angrier with him than she felt in this moment.

She turned around, only to be greeted with the sight of two of them, on her deck, on her property, near her child, near her, after everything, after…

After she lost her other half.

After they

No. No, she was just as much to blame. They may have planted the seed, but she allowed it to blossom, encouraged it to grow and rise from the earth and to be what it—who he was always meant to be.

A hero.

The best of all of them.

"Sergeant," Pepper added after she swallowed and gathered her composure around her like the armor which she could activate with a flick of her wrist.

Something he had made her, from the ground up, just for her. His hands. His heart. His love for her in every nanite and strand of code which flowed through Rescue.

She'd been able to fight for him, for her daughter, for everyone, with what her husband had made for her with his own two hands. With his mind, his brilliant mind, he had crafter her something that she could use to protect everyone she loved. Everyone except…. No. No, she couldn't go down that rabbit hole. Not yet. Not right now. She'd held it together for so long. She'd been strong for the ones who'd needed her to be strong for them.

For Peter, who had been lost for years in something, some place, some time she still did not understand, not fully. Peter, who missed Tony so much it hurt to see.

For Harley, who'd been lost just the same, but who'd had a longer connection with her husband than even Peter.

For Happy, who had also been lost, and who hadn't been able to be there for Tony's final moments, both before the Decimation and after.

For Shuri, who'd been lost and had lost many of her own to the True Death, before and after, and who had one of the wickedest minds Pepper had ever seen challenge Tony in a way he absolutely delighted in—much as he may have complained, it was never very serious.

And for Morgan, her sweet Morgan, who didn't know what had happened but had understood too quickly, too well, for Pepper's ease of mind. She had understood in that solemn way of hers that reminded her so much of Morgan's father, her brain piecing together every last bit that she knew and had been able to suss out on her own, no matter how much Pepper had tried to shelter her. In the end, Pepper knew that Morgan would find out, would figure it all out—she always did—but she had hoped to save her from… from something not even Pepper could figure out. Because didn't her daughter deserve to know everything that befell her father? Everything that he'd done to save Pepper, to save those lost before and after, to save the world, to save his daughter?

Pepper had been too strong, for too many people, for too long. This last week had seemed to last forever, and here she was at the end of her husband's funeral, when she'd thought everyone had left, when she'd thought she'd be able to crack… and she couldn't.

"Pepper?"

She was dragged kicking and screaming out of her mind, her heart, and forced to pay attention to the world outside once again. She'd been remiss in her duties as host, but she honestly didn't care right now. She really didn't. She felt the exact opposite of caring right now, and it was likely that which allowed the next words to leave her mouth.

"You know he loved you, right?"

The shock on his face made her feel… made her feel happy. No, vindictive was the right word for it. She'd held this in for so long, had talked about it with no one except her therapist, had kept all her anger towards Steve and the others at bay for so long, mostly by removing herself from their proximity as often as she could… so it felt good. It felt good to shock him, to get some reaction from him besides his stoicism and stubbornness. Besides his sincere wish to help her in her 'time of need' to the point that she wanted to punch him. Fuck, but did she ever sometimes.

Perhaps she was biased—probably.

Didn't mean she didn't feel exactly how she did. Didn't mean she wasn't allowed to.

"What?" Steve breathed out, just barely audible, as his best friend moved to stand at his shoulder.

James Barnes was showing support for his friend, but he was also looking at Pepper with a curious and pointed gaze, as if he was trying to figure out exactly where she was going with this, what she was saying without saying.

"You heard me," she said mulishly, not giving a shit about decorum or courtesy.

Silence filled the distance between them as Steve grappled with the knowledge she'd imparted to him. For long minutes there was nothing but the crickets and the lapping of the lake and the rustling of the leaves in the trees—sounds which used to soothe her but now only reminded her of something which she'd lost.

She would have to move. When Morgan was ready. Only then. Everything was about her daughter now. Everything.

Nothing else mattered. Not even her husband's protégés. She would try, but… Morgan was first. Morgan would always be first.

"Steve," Sergeant Barnes said quietly, placing his hand lightly on Steve's shoulder. "Remember what I told you?"

And that made Steve stop. He just stopped. Went absolutely still as ice, still as… nothing. As if he wasn't even there, except that her eyes could still pick out his form in the darkness.

"Yeah Buck, I do," he whispered, just barely loud enough for Pepper to hear him, his eyes finally losing that distant inwardness they'd had just moments ago in his stillness.

And then—curiously, in a distant sort of way—he nodded once at Pepper, expression closing off into one of contemplation rather than that of disbelief, and then turned around to link his arms with James Barnes, walking off to leave her alone.

Finally alone.

Pepper collapsed to the ground, her knees thudding against the dirt and making the men hesitate, but—thankfully—they keep moving on, allowing her what dignity remained to her. She held it together just long enough, crying silently into the grass, for them to get into their car and depart, and then she fell apart.

She allowed herself to finally fall apart, to finally mourn the man she loved to the fullest extent she could.

It would never end, it never would—but in that moment she could believe that this might, just possibly, bring her some relief.


People moved on. The world moved on.

Most people didn't really remember the week after the battle. The Avengers and those associated with them especially didn't. Some recovering from grievous injuries, others recovering their mental faculties, but all who were able-bodied had plunged straight into the grind that was the aftermath of the war. The only war that anyone could remember occurring. The only war that mattered in that moment, in those hours, in those long, long days.

Outside of the battlefield, throughout the world, throughout the universe, lifeforms of all sorts were reappearing in the places they were last in during the Decimation. It had caused mass chaos, despite the fact that everyone was glad for it happening. There were deaths—there were—but there was so much life existing again on top of all the life which had continued throughout the last five years… no one could complain. Everyone had someone returned to them, be they family, friend, or acquaintance.

Just as the world had fallen into chaos in the wake of the Decimation, they fell into chaos upon the Reversal.

But it was a welcomed chaos.

And the Avengers? Those who were part of their circle? They grieved, but they also thrived. They had loved ones returned to them, and their greatest foe yet had been defeated. They'd suffered losses—they certainly had—but the greater good had been served. Those who had given their lives had given them for a purpose. They had not died in vain.

Life moved on. It always would.

They didn't have time for each funeral to occur at once, but they did what they could to honor the fallen. Within the week, first Natasha, then Tony, were sent off with a heavy heart, loved and cherished for everything they had done—despite whatever lingering animosity and feelings might remain.

The rest would occur over the coming weeks, spaced out strategically, with not a one left unattended.

Even the regular citizens turned out in droves where and when they could. They wanted to do their part, to show their love for those who had given their lives for them. To show their respect for those who had paid the ultimate price.

For those who survived… they gathered together where they could and took comfort in not only those who had been lost for so long, but also in those who remained to them. Whether or not they had moved on from those they had loved, whether they still mourned them, all found time for those who had been gone. All found comfort in each other.

For the living Avengers and their friends and families, they would see each other again, but the last time they were all together again, under one roof, was the day they said goodbye to Tony Stark. It was a private affair, kept from the masses—they weren't sure what to say about the battle, and by now there were so many rumors flying that the general populace no longer knew what to believe—but they needed this time for themselves, even if the world knew exactly what Tony had given to them and for them. This was for them.

T'Challa and his fellow Wakandans departed for their homeland, determined to clean up and see their people through the coming weeks, months, years. Their people had suffered the worst, and yet they would not be acknowledged for such until long after the fact in all likelihood—it was the way of the world, and something they were bound and determined to change. They carried that momentum forward and worked with the rest of the world as the weeks passed, offering suggestions and technology alike in the hopes that it would help the world rebuild, recover… heal. Finally heal.

Stephen Strange and Wong made the rounds but disappeared into circles of light soon after. No matter how much they may wish to stay—and they did—there were those in the world that needed them more. The community of sorcerers was small, and they had lost many for good. Not only that, however, but the world at large needed their skills. No longer were they to hide, they decided—they likely wouldn't be able to, in any case, not after what had happened—but instead they dispersed into all nations of the Earth, offering their assistance where it was needed. The world would not have gotten such a start to rebuilding in those next weeks if it hadn't been for them.

Fury muttered something about finding Maria Hill and then disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. But not before leaving a long, handwritten letter to Pepper and a copy of Tony's original contract with S.H.I.E.L.D., crossed out and marked over, words penned in and showing Tony's acceptance as an Avenger long after the fact. His record as a consultant stricken forever—always to be remembered as an Avenger, from the very beginning. It was too little, too late, but it was… appreciated.

Carol remained until the last possible moment, watching over everyone with concern and making sure all was tended to, even though she had no reason to—she didn't know Tony, not really, and yet there was such a deep well of love in her heart for every single person she encountered. She promised Pepper she'd be back in a few weeks, and then took off after she kissed Pepper, Morgan, and Peter on their cheeks.

Wanda followed Clint and his family like a shadow until he gestured to her wordlessly, opening his arm to her and accepting her arm around his waist, her face pressed between both Laura and Clint's as she sobbed, the children clinging to their legs. Their tears joined with hers as they mourned for Natasha, for Tony, but also for Vision, for Pietro, for the time lost, for the innocence lost and the rebuilding that would come. The healing which they all needed and seemed currently outside everyone's reach. When they left, she went with them, not exactly knowing where to go but knowing she had a home with them. She always would. And Clint would always have family in her.

Scott and Hope drifted off, quieter than they'd ever been before around any of them, not really knowing what to say. Hope was much better at it than Scott—he kept quiet because he felt he'd just trip over his tongue and ruin everything for everyone in their grief—so she carried what little amount of conversation she could. Even when approached by Bruce, Scott kept unnaturally silent, Hope nodding along or murmuring assent or dissent as Bruce asked them to work together with Hank and Janet to craft more Pym particles. They all agreed, only after Hank extracted a promise that the machine would be returned to them for safekeeping as soon as the plan was completed—with further discussion to occur later about what exactly was to be done with the machine after all was said and done. Bruce nodded, solemn, and then was one of the first to leave, off to work on making the world completely secure for good—at least from this threat.

Thor was off as soon as he could, flying away with a crack of thunder, a slight darkening of the skies, not able to handle it anymore—shrugging off the arms reaching for him, hoping to offer him comfort which he did not deserve. He had failed once—more than once—and he couldn't help but to think that if he hadn't given into his self-indulgent hatred that maybe, just maybe, he could have prevented every last thing that had happened these last few days. That perhaps he could have saved those who were dear to him, his Avengers shield-brother and shield-sister. It was his fault, he thought, smiling falsely as he passed on everything to Valkyrie—abandoning his people once again, he thought to himself viciously—and then leaving Midgard as quickly as he could, off to explore the universe outside of the Nine Realms for as long as he could. Forever, if that were possible, or at least until either his or Midgard's memory faded from consciousness.

Steve stayed later than anyone else and learned one of the largest truths of his life—one of the most debilitating—and then disappeared for weeks with Bucky and Sam. He tried to put the truth he learned from his mind, with only some success. When he wasn't thinking about it, at least he could revel in the fact that two of the greatest men he'd ever known in his life who had been taken from him… had been returned to him. And one of them was his Bucky—his in a way that no one else had ever been, not even Peggy or Sharon or… or Tony. Bucky was the "what if" that had become reality. The love that had been kept at bay all the years of their youth had been realized in the short amount of time they'd had between finding each other again and Bucky going back into the ice. They were still learning each other, much to Sam's chagrin and mock-disgust—but really, the man was happy for the two men he counted as his best friends… including the really annoying brunet who had grown on him like mold.

Peter was offered a spot at the house, as was Harley, but they both took a long look at it and then nearly burst into tears—they'd barely held on throughout the afternoon and evening as it was—and then Rhodey and May took them by the shoulders and led them towards their cars. But before they could make it, the young men decided they wanted to stop, at least once more, at the garage. Aunt May waited in the house, quietly helping with things Pepper might need in the weeks to come. The men were in the garage for hours, but it was exactly what they needed—what all three of them needed—and when they finally took their leave they were quiet. Too quiet, but that was to be expected. Neither of them visited again for weeks, but the two young men kept in constant contact, and Rhodey made sure to stop in and check on them as often as he could.

Pepper… Well, Pepper cried. Pepper mourned. Pepper tried her hardest for her daughter, with her best friend Happy's help and guidance and constant presence. It was hard, and she didn't always succeed… but she tried so hard. She could barely remember those weeks, lost in a dream, a nightmare, not even worrying if she would ever wake—simply lost to it all except for the briefest moments. Her friends filled in for her where they could, helping as they were able, and Morgan was the best of them all. She understood, in her own way, that her mommy needed time, needed hugs and love just as much as she did. That she had to be there for her mommy as much as Happy and Rhodey and Peter and Harley were there for her—a joy to her in this dark time. She knew that her mommy would be there for her soon, but first she had to help her mommy get there. Morgan understood—Happy said she was the smartest person he'd ever known when she told him that, and it made her burst into tears which she quickly choked down, not wanting to wake her mommy from the small amount of sleep she was able to get.

And Tony? Well, he was gone. Gone for good. Dead to this world, if not to its people's hearts and memories.

So what did it matter what he did?


There was a great darkness.

An absence of anything. Of light, of motion, of feeling, of presence.

Nothing.

Nothing except for one thing… one thing which surrounded everything. Which was everything.

"I am not finished with you."

A voice, coming from the Everything. The Nothing.

"Did you think that your title was a mistake?"

My… what?

"Your title. The name they call you by. Those who love you and hate you both, all know you by this name."

I… I do not… I? What am I? What is I?

"Oh my beloved... just a little longer. I will fix what was not supposed to happen. Something that was not supposed to pass. I was promised. I was promised you to do with what I will when you came to me. But it is not yet your time. It is not."

Th-thank you.

"Do not thank me yet. I am still not done, my Merchant. You will die only when I say you may die, and that is not always something to be desired."

And then the Nothing—the Everything—became something even less, something even more.

Something to be felt—pain, oh god the pain.

Something to be seen—color, everywhere there was color and light and it hurt so much, shone so brightly, detail lost to confusion.

Something to sense—thoughts, feelings, emotions, consciousness, awareness.

Something to be… asked—

Why? What? Who?

And then…

And then Tony awoke.

"Good luck, my Merchant. I will see you again," the voice spoke, tolling like a bell and then disappearing into a whisper, into nothing, as Tony's eyes opened.

Tony Stark's eyes opened, and he took in the world.


Note: Thank you all. Let me know what you think!

Thank you to the amazing Annaelle (she's here on FFN, so check her out!) for her beta work. We'll be back with my Stuckony fic 'Hanging From a Cross of Iron' and Annaelle's Stucky series 'Unbecoming Everything You Are Not' when we've worked out our IW/Endgame feels...whenever that may be. Because FUCK!

A note on this fic's final ship... I am a main Stuckony shipper, but I love and respect Pepper (and love Pepperony too, as a multishipper) and all the iterations of that. I don't know exactly where I'm going to end up with the ships, it may change, but the nebulous idea is to go for a true quad. If I can't accomplish that, then there will be some happy medium between all of that, where every single person is treated respectfully and there is ZERO cheating or awful break-ups or anything like that. You have my word on that. But I aiming for that quad, because why the fuck not? xD (I can totally pull it off! WATCH ME! ;D)

Also, the fact that Thanos gets resurrected by Lady Death in the comics is pretty much what inspired this fic. So, uh... thanks, Thanos?