PART THREE - POWER

Chapter Ten

Lions, and Tigers, and Bears, Oh My

…

…

"We accept," says Mr. Stark.

"We do?" I squeak.

"Very well," the Nova Prime sets down her tea cup. "You leave tomorrow."

Those five little words instantly begin a rush of activity. The Nova Prime nods to the man at the door. He gives a signal that I don't catch, and the armed guards around the room swarm us. Two each take Mr. Stark and Bucky and lead them out the door, and the one that brought me in forcibly drags me back out. I don't fight him on it, not really to my full capacity, but I do struggle to keep my head craned in the direction that they're taking Bucky and Mr. Stark away.

"Hey, uh, guys?" I say queasily. "We're uh - they're at least sending us off planet together, right?"

"It's gonna be okay, kid!" Mr. Stark tersely calls over his shoulder. The guards keep their grips on his upper arms, pushing him down the hall and around the corner.

"Just keep your head down," Bucky says, lagging behind on purpose. "And do what they say! Everything's going to be all…"

The man puts me back in my cell and shuts the door, the heavy clatter of the bolt sliding into place and cutting off Bucky's assurances.

Nothing but silence in the wake. I turn uneasily and examine the room again. Nothing has changed, though the sun patch has moved ever so slightly.

I wonder which sun this is. Or if it even has a name, or if they just call it the sun like we do.

My spidey senses flinch - and so do I - when a WHIRRING sound comes out of the wall like a box fan turning on spontaneously.

A seam suddenly appears in the white wall. A small bunk unfolds out of the rectangle like an oven door opening by itself. There's a small white mattress on it, and a pillow. The whirring stops when it comes to the end of it's hinge and sits there silently, beckoning.

Sleep does… sound tempting. But considering how many times I've been unconscious in the last few… hours? Days? Maybe not worth the risk.

But I do walk over to the bunk and sit on it gingerly. It's just high enough for me to swing my legs back and forth.

I would have preferred a shower opening in the wall. I'm covered in sweat, blood, grime, yellow-plastic-balloon-acidic-numbing-poison, and as far as I know, my own death-dust.

I shudder involuntarily and hug my arms.

My cell door opens and a man in a white lab coat steps in. "Hello, prisoner number three," he says congenially. He's not even looking at me, he's looking down at a small fancy tablet in his hands. "I'm here to check you out and make sure you're doing okay. Your friends insisted."

"Okay," I say with a sort of nervous chuckle. Inside, my brain starts replaying every bad movie ever with aliens and mad scientists and human experimentation and…

The cell door shuts behind him from a dark gloved hand of a door-guard. The doctor walks over to me and consults his tablet further.

"What do… uh… I need to do?" I ask shyly.

He glances up at me, eyebrows confused. "Oh, uh, nothing," he says, "Just hold still."

I gulp.

He holds his tablet in front of me. "Hold really still," he says again. "On three - one, two, three."

I flinch and shut my eyes.

The doctor looks at me incredulously. "I told you not to move."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if I had known what you were counting down to," I snap.

"Ah. Well. No matter," the doctor looks at his tablet. "You nearly ruined it by a millisecond. It's fine." He begins using his finger to swipe on the screen, looking at what, I have no idea. "Mmhm… good, good, good," he says to himself. "Well. All vitals looking good, all things considered. You do have a mild concussion so, uh, you need to watch that."

I blink. The freaking tablet just did one of the those high-tech Star Trek body-scan things.

"That thing says I'm alive, right?" I ask, pointing at his tablet. "Like alive alive?"

The doctor tilts his head. "As opposed to what, exactly? Dead?"

I scoff. "Ha. Uh. No. Why would you… say… no, not like, dead, that'd be impossible. Just…" I try to rummage in my brain for a good excuse. "I just didn't know if my real body died and someone replaced me with a robot and uploaded all my memories to the robot so that the robot thought it was really me."

The doctor throws back his head and laughs. "No, no, nothing like that. And if you were a robot, I would certainly know." He taps his tablet. "We don't do those sorts of things here, robot replacements and all. I have it on good authority that they do shit like that on Earth all the time. If there was ever a planet to avoid, that's the one. Stick to - well, maybe seven or six of the realms. It's safer that way."

I nod and try to act like I'm not from Earth. "Uh huh…"

"Well, I'll be off. Nice meeting you… uh…"

"Peter?"

"Peter. They'll be sending up food next. My recommendation? Eat all of it. You're a little bit underweight." The doctor waves cheerfully and taps three times in quick succession on the door. It opens for him, then shuts behind him again.

I don't really know what I had expected, but I think part of me believed I'd have no vitals, no weight, and no concussion, because I'm dead. And now that I feel sort of… confirmed… in this universe, it suddenly makes it more real. Less make believe.

Even though I have a door I can escape from usually available to me, it makes the rest of the emotions more real. Fear, pain, excitement, curiosity. Am I more allowed to feel these things, then? Since my real flesh-and-bone body is here, and present, and not drifting by the old team like a dust bunny?

The wall on the opposite side of me makes the same rotating sound as the bunk. Instead of a bed popping out, a seam appears and a much smaller square unfolds from the wall. This one is a tray, and there's food on it.

I don't realize how hungry I am till I'm already bent over the tray, shoveling the food in my mouth like a creepy survivalist stumbling upon a pile of grubs. I don't even notice what I'm eating. Meat? Tofu? It has a weird texture and tastes like meat but I don't even care. The last thing I ate was… I think it may have been… a hot dog in Queens. I couldn't possibly say when that was. Time flows differently in hell. Or heaven. Depending on what happens.

The next thing I'm eating without taking a breath is some sort of fruit. It's juicy and red and sort of bittersweet, like an unripe strawberry.

I blink and realize I only have a few bites left before consuming this entire thing. Wow. I just lived up to the teenage stereotype. My stomach lets out a satisfied growl, and I sigh, taking my time finishing the fruit. There's a tall glass of water as long as my forearm, which I drink quickly at first, and then slow. I don't want to throw up everything.

I take the water back to the bunk with me and sit, pulling my legs up onto the mattress and criss-crossing them.

Then I watch the sunset through the window.

At first, the sky's golden hues just deepen, but then streaks of purple and pink begin a razor-sharp journey across the sky, slicing through silken clouds in long strips. The sun deepens, the dark lavender shadows gracefully take over the plaza below.

I start getting sleepy. Like, really sleepy.

"I don't want to miss anything," I say out loud, realizing I'm in such a state of exhaustion that I would be going full-silly-mode if anyone was here to egg me on. That kind of tired that is so thick and intoxicating that you find yourself giggling and sobbing over just about anything.

I giggle first, and then I sob a little.

I think of Aunt May, waiting for me at home.

Mr. Stark holding me when I died.

Thanos.

That god-awful alien who thought he knew so much better than everyone else that he could play judge, jury, and executioner. I heard that phrase in a lot of TV shows and it works for him.

Thanos, the weirdest mass murderer in the history of any mass murderer ever. Him, with that condescending expression, beady eyes, and like, a million buttcracks in his chin.

Man, I really hate that guy.

I go to sleep looking at a sky turning deep purple outside the window. I'm thinking of the stones in Thanos's gauntlet. I think of the colors of the stones, knowing that while we fought him, the gauntlet wasn't full. There was at least one missing. Now that I think about it, I don't remember how many.

The sky makes me remember the purple gem, like his flesh. Kinda gross.

The stars are beginning to come out.

My dreams are devoid of color altogether.

…

BANG BANG.

My body twitches out deep sleep. Someone is banging on the door.

"Rise and shine," I hear Rhomann Dey's distinctly bemused voice on the other side of the cell door. "You leave in five minutes. Ships prepared and docked. Remember, no funny business."

Sunlight is streaming through the window again, from another direction. I must have been sleepier than I thought. I can smell something delicious and realize there's a fresh glass of water and some sort of pastry steaming on the tray across the room. Must be breakfast. At least they're feeding us, right?

I sit up quickly, dizzy with the pollution of sleep fogging up my brain. "Uh… is there a bathroom in the wall too?" I ask the door. "Or do I pee on the floor?"

The wall sighs again and two small bowls unhinge. One is a sink at waist level, the lower one is a urinal.

So I can pee next to a giant window overlooking a public plaza.

Okay, then.

…

In a few moments the metal bolt gives off the SHANK sound and my guards beckon me out. To my surprise, they unlock the handcuffs with a thumbprint to a small black square beside the glowing red button.

It turns green, and then they unclick. Bingo.

"Uh, thanks," I say, rubbing my sore wrists and stretching my shoulders. I slept on my back with my handcuffed wrists resting on my belly, so it wasn't too difficult to sleep with, but that doesn't mean my arms don't feel totally janked from remaining in the position for several hours. "So… you don't think I'm about to run away or something? Hurt someone?"

Rhomann stands at the head of the hall, waiting for the guards to push and prod me towards him. "Our esteemed commander is handing you an escape key," he replies drolly. "You'd be idiots to try something now when you have your freedom offered to you for free."

"Where's my friends?" I ask.

"Right here," Bucky's voice is right around the corner. He and Mr. Stark are waiting with other guards, six of them altogether.

Mr. Stark, dressed down in dark clothes with his suit likely stashed away in a wristwatch, looks very relieved to see me alive. I notice he's uncuffed too.

Bucky is not.

"Oh, uh, hey guys," I say awkwardly. "First question. Did YOU figure out you could ask the wall for a urinal or did you just pee on the wall…?"

"Let's get a move on," Rhomann Dey interrupts quickly before either of them answer. "You can play catch up later."

They lead us out of the hall and into an elevator as wide as a conference room. The lift descends the side of the building, all glass on one side so that we can see the other side of where we've been stashed. The view is nice enough, more jungle-looking fronds growing neatly out of little pots and squares throughout walking paths, plazas, glass displays, stairs and bridges. It's everything a science fiction city should look like.

But it's the people that are the most noticeable, standing out amongst the aliens and other beings are a line of men dressed in solid black, wearing helmets to conceal their faces. They are armed with huge, other-worldly artillery, and they're guarding a small box on a set of wheels. They have spotters waiting at either end of the plaza, and I catch a brief glimpse of a ship's wing parked in the morning shadow of the building.

I feel a cold shiver. That must be the germ in that box.

What sort of germ would be a target for enemies of Xandar? I honestly thought biohazard warfare was just an Earth-thing, but the galaxy is huge and there's no reason why, wherever there are people and diseases, why those dangers would not exist here too.

As the elevator shifts from side to side as it glides smoothly down, I realize the building isn't entirely… straight. The whole thing is built sort of like a pyramid that never reaches a point, angles going inward and windows subtly slanted. We hit the ground floor and the glass window slides open, spitting us out directly onto the back plaza.

The ship is parked here on the cement. It's small, maybe a smaller quinjet size.

No - it IS a small quinjet. At least the Xandarian equivalent. I almost expect a SHIELD logo on the wing, but no such luck.

"No place like home," Mr. Stark says with a extra-loud exhale. He's as surprised as I am, but pleased. "Who was your designer?"

"Classified," Rhomann barks. We can tell it's no such thing. He just doesn't want to have a conversation about it. I glance over my shoulder back at the building where we were being held. The elevator door, once a clear window, winks in and out - and turns white.

I turn my back on it.

Nope.

Rhomann leads us right to the middle of all the armed men, goes up to the black box on wheels, which they stopped at the lowered ramp at the back of the quinjet. He opens the top with a whir and a click.

"Here's your bounty," he intones seriously, his words clipped with professional unease. He lifts a small, brassy-gold cube out of the top, holding it out for Mr. Stark's inspection. It's no bigger than a rubik's cube. "You'll be giving it to Taneleer Tivan, otherwise known as the Collector. The coordinates are already programmed. But… not so programmed that you can't use evasive maneuvers if necessary."

Mr. Stark takes it without hesitation, holding it up to the sun, then his eye, then hands it to Bucky. As best as he can with the cuffs, Bucky examines it as well.

The light glints off of it, and my spider-sense goes off in a weird way. My senses are recognizing that whatever is in the cube is dangerous, but not immediate danger. Almost as if my spidey-senses are only giving me a friendly reminder.

The reminder feels sort of… slimey, and sickly. I guess the way a warning would feel for a biohazard germ. It makes my stomach give a little lurch.

Bucky offers me a look, which I shake my head quickly to decline.

"So this little thing contains a germ so dangerous that the entire Nova Empire wants it off planet so badly they're willing to hand it over to self-branded criminals to do so?" Bucky asks dryly. He slaps it back into Rhomann's awaiting palm so quickly that I almost expect it to burst open and a green gas of death to come pouring out.

"You know when you put it like that," Stark gapes, "It almost sounds as if you don't like the plan."

"Like the plan? Like it?" Bucky repeats. "I am one hundred percent certain if we had discussed or bartered for another five minutes, we might have come up with a better compromise than this."

"Or, we could literally be hoofing it through fields of Tribbles right now on day one of our 2 year labor sentence," Mr. Stark sighs. "We don't have that kind of time. Not for Earth, and not for Banner."

"So that cubey-thing has the germ inside?" I ask.

Rhomann Dey looks at me, his gaze sliding just past eye-contact and over my shoulder. "Uh, yeah," he says distractedly.

My spider-sense glimmers for the first time today. I feel a hot roll of sweat emanate from Rhomann, a stink of fear and…

Liar.

He's lying. I don't know what he's lying about, or even if his answer is a lie. It might not be. But something dishonest is happening. I wonder…

"We've got a disturbance in the west park," says a voice on Rhomann's wrist communicator.

Rhomann steps away from us and lifts his wrist to his chin. "I'm literally standing right next to the west park," he says annoyingly. "I got nothing."

"Oh, some pair of young lovers are beating the ever-lasting snot out of each other."

"So arrest them."

"You called dibs on this one."

"Dibs?"

"You said - if that junk-terd comes back, you let me have a go at him first."

"I call a lot of people junk-terd. Who is it?"

"System says Quill."

I feel my heart leap into my throat. I know that name.

I hear someone shouting in the square. Two steps down and I could see what's going on. I look up at Mr. Stark. He and Bucky are arguing in low voices. The guards are loading the holding box on wheels into the ship. The rest are standing at attention, and Rhomann has his back towards me…

I walk purposefully down the steps for a better look. Nothing sneaky, no movements that would indicate suspicious activity or running away. I won't jeopardize our leaving this planet, but the slamming of my heart in my chest tells me I need to get down there, I NEED to look, I need to see exactly if this Quill might also be the…

I hear Rhomann sigh. "Secure the area, see if you can try and get the crowds to exit quietly. He's pretty harmless but I'd rather catch him by surprise. Better safe than sorry."

I see him. It's definitely Quill. Our Quill. Er, at least, an alternate Quill. He's running at a high speed along one of the walking ramps edging the plaza, arms pumping, a curled lip of concentration as he suddenly leaps over the railing and plummets down to the plaza below, landing on a green-skinned woman running the same direction.

With a shout, they collide and fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

I wonder who she is. She fights like someone in the Widow program, or from what I've heard, black leathers and high heeled boots barely hinting at her power and deadly skills.

She has him pinned in an easy second, eyes blazing with purpose and a knee right in his jugular. "Fool," she hisses at him, "Should've learned."

"I don't learn," he replies hoarsely, "One of my issues!"

I frown in agreement. DEFINITELY one of his issues.

Quill snags a small, hollow orb with silver floral patterns out of the hand of the woman, slaps some sort of gadget onto her back, and suddenly a small rocket lights up and she goes flying the opposite direction like a rag doll stuck to Thor's hammer. She lands in a pool of water and skids till she slams against the wall.

I barely register her. I'm focused on Quill. Peter Quill. Oddly fascinated with pop culture references, like me. He's standing like an idiot while the giant tree that I saw yesterday from my cell walks up right behind him. He's holding a giant bag, like a cartoon bank robber in an old movie with a sack for stealing goods.

He's about to shove that bag right over his head.

I take another step forward.

WHAM.

My heart suddenly feels like it's going into overdrive with a solid THUMP against my sternum, and then stopping altogether. I physically lift my hand and put it to my chest to make sure my chest didn't burst open like the Alien movies.

I feel a flutter of my real heartbeat beneath my fingertips. It's fine.

My hearing almost completely disappears like a bomb went off, and then comes rushing back.

"Get these cuffs off," I hear Bucky say.

"What, and I suppose you PROMISE not to attack me like you did your other guard?" someone replies.

"Yes, I do promise," he responds with frustration in a monotone. "You can't expect me to run this errand for you handcuffed, do you? When I'm not supposed to come back?"

"Fine. But one false move from you - you're dead."

Something's dead. Or something deadlier than the Winter Soldier is close by.

Something isn't right. My brain clamors like a high pitched siren, knocking from one ear to another painfully, my skin suddenly ice-cold and dripping with sweat, a stink of death pluming invisibly into the air right in front of me.

Every kind of spider-sense is going off at once. Sound, touch, smell…

It all crescendos into one, solitary warning - DANGER.

Danger from what, though?

Danger from…

THANOS.

I glance over my shoulder. I'm barely twelve feet away from the adults. Rhomann has rushed for the building to approach his "dibs" from the other side. A few of the guards are jumping into small, star-shaped ships parked along the bay's edge. They're certainly not standing around and watching like I am.

I almost expect to see Thanos walking out of a portal opening somewhere behind me. That's how wrong this feels. Something very, very destructive is nearby, but it's not Thanos - it can't be Thanos…

It sort of feels like…

I don't feel so good…

No, not like that. But almost.

What else could possibly… what else felt exactly this dangerous but only when Thanos was around?

Down goes the bag over Quill's head.

Treebeard loops up the end of the bag and cinches it tight in his massive, tree-branch hands, the shape of Quill's body struggling and yelping inside.

I notice a small raccoon for the first time standing there wearing… clothes. Not clothes… small pieces of armor. And a giant square gun slung over his back.

It's like… Narnia and Die Hard had an evil baby.

"We're supposed to be professionals," I hear the raccoon speak just like a person, when the green-alien-lady suddenly marches back, dripping wet from the pool she landed in. She attacks the tree with a drawn sword, hacking, shouting, driving at him like an axe in a lumber yard. He tries to defend himself by holding his branch-arms in front of his face.

It takes her less than ten seconds to chop off both of his arms,

The bag plummets to the ground.

"Peter," I hear Mr. Stark call behind me. "I know it's fun to watch the local color beat the shit out of each other, but the Corps can handle it. Spider-Man does NOT need to get involved."

The woman opens the bag. Quill shoots her with a gun in a small blaze of lightning and crackling blue electricity, fizzling around each of her limbs and knocking her flat out with a cry.

"I hear you," I say hoarsely, not even bothering to turn around.

Quill disentangles himself from the bag, tripping over it one, two, three times before taking off at a dead run.

Heading right for us.

The star-shaped ships surround the plaza, humming silently.

The crowd parts ways as Quill barrels onward, that orb held tightly in one hand.

"Come on, kid," Bucky says, his voice going up a pitch with alertness. "Let's get in the ship before that escalates."

There's only one other thing I can think of that would make my spider-sense freak out like it did with Thanos.

Maybe one of the things that gave him powers in the first place.

An infinity stone.

I stop thinking altogether, and I break into a run to meet Quill half-way.

"QUILL!" I shout.

"What the hell!" I hear Mr. Stark shout behind me.

Quill makes eye contact with me only briefly, and he doesn't even have a chance to register surprise before a wad of electricity erupts around him in crackling energy, throwing him down on the ground with tendrils of blue sparks. Someone - I don't know who - shot him, too.

He writhes on the ground from the electrocution, shouting, and the orb has fallen out of his hand and rolls, rolls,

Rolls,

And stops,

Right where my feet skid to a halt.

The guards that had been standing at the ship are all running past me, pointing their guns at Quill. The others are circumnavigating the square's edge, ready to corner the green lady, the tree, and the raccoon.

The star-ships shoot out weird streams of golden-yellow light, only these ones catch the fighter's in their beams and hold them hostage in place, floating a few feet off the ground.

I bend down and pick up the orb, unnoticed by the guards all focused on Quill's spasming figure.

I feel my entire torso clench painfully, my spider-senses giving me the same warning from before…

Amongst the smells of death, the sirens in my ears and the ice-sweat, and I know - I know - I KNOW - I have an infinity stone in my hand.

And I'm taking it with me.

I turn and I run back out of the plaza and up the steps.

"Let's go, let's go!" I shout at Stark, who's halfway down the steps to retrieve me. "Let's get OUT of here!"

"Do you know that guy?" Stark asks, catching me by the arm as I pummel past him.

"TALK LATER, EXIT NOW," I bark, extracting my arm and rushing up the ramp. Mr. Stark, to my relief, follows me up the ramp right on my heels.

"What the hell was all that about?" he asks loudly. "Did you just STEAL something?"

"This?" I hold up the orb. "This is - this IS... " I am shaking so badly and I don't even realize it at first.

Holy shit, what have I done?

"This is my… my…"

Bucky turns around from a pilot's seat. "Limbs inside? Great," he says sarcastically. He hits a button above his head, and the ramp lifts up with hydraulic squeals, till it closes and encases us in a rush of cool, recycled air.

"Sit down before you fall down, and buckle in," Mr. Stark commands. "When we're out of this atmosphere, tell me what the hell just happened."

He stomps over to the chair at the pilot's controls and straps himself in. I mimic their movements, strapping myself in. It's a small seat in a row of several, each row along side of the small open area. There's no multiple levels on this thing, it's as wide as a flat-bed truck and as short as a smaller moving van. The cockpit is open to where the two rows of seats face each other, with a chair for pilot and copilot. There's room for some storage above our heads, but not much. There's a few thin doors like airplane bathrooms, bookending the ramp. Lockers or bathrooms, I should think. Maybe both.

They're both dark gray.

The box containing the "germ" is simply tied down in the center of the space, unassumingly tame looking.

I glance over at Mr. Stark and Bucky.

They move fluidly as a team, working controls they are both familiar with, and it looks so normal I nearly forget that in my universe, it would be someone like Colonel Rhodes seated beside him, maybe Widow, as she does a lot of flying. Bucky, though, is certainly not out of place here.

I mean, I guess if you don't get along in one universe, maybe you're best friends in another universe.

Maybe Hulk and Thanos are sitting side by side on a beach, sipping champagne and toasting their favorite destructive memories.

I let out a hysterical giggle, and then clench my teeth shut, hoping Stark and Bucky don't decide I'm too unstable to bring along.

My worries are unfounded, though. They're too busy turning on everything in the ship and starting the engines.

We lift off in seconds, the nose of the ship dipping in a little too quickly, then the back end lurching forward, a sort of uncertain jet stream of engine noise growing louder and louder.

The quinjet streaks out of the plaza like a machine-gun banshee. The color outside the cockpit window… I guess it doesn't count as a windshield if there's no air in space… is a bright, morning blue.

A blue all too quickly darkening, like a light on a dimmer. It's turning blacker and blacker.

The metal jostles behind me and I grip the orb tightly in one hand, the other reaching up and grasping my shoulder strap, turning my face away from the window above their head's before I see the first twinkle of stars.

Flying in space will forever make me nervous. My last trip… no, make that my last TWO trips weren't exactly great experiences…

Small potatoes.

"So I have a theory about tough love," Stark's voice drifts lazily from the open cockpit.

"Here we go," Bucky sighs.

"What?"

"Just go talk to him, don't test-drive your parenting on me first."

"How does one breach the subject of I just caught you stealing?"

I look down at the orb in my hand.

Holy holy holy shit…

I have an infinity stone. Like an actual infinity stone. Or at least part of one inside this sphere thing. I'm not about to open it to find out, my spider sense is enough for now.

I got the briefest crash-course about infinity stones as we barreled towards Titan on that donut-ship… and now I REALLY wish they had spent a little extra time telling me more about them. To quote Mr. Stark, I got jackshit.

"Could have been worse," Bucky shrugs.

"Oh, yeah, he could have mugged him first. That might make it worse. Maybe the only reason he didn't was because Elphaba was doing it for him."

"Elphaba? Her name was Elphaba? How the hell do you know all these space women?"

"It's not - no. That was a… god, you and Rogers both. You're killing me." Stark breathes out too long and too slowly. "The Wicked Witch of the West? Ring any bells?"

"Ding dong," Bucky replies evenly. "The witch is dead."

I hold the orb in my trembling hands, spying another brief flash of purple deep inside of the sphere. I wish there was a guide I could read about what colors meant what destructive power. For all I know, this is what turned Thanos into the purple Titan I met. Maybe he was small and gray before he possessed any stones.

The possibilities - and the things I don't know - are making my head hurt.

Why did I TAKE this thing? It doesn't change anything that happened in my universe! Just because I have this one does not immediately remove it from the gauntlet of the big bad himself!

But now I have one of the six most powerful things in the universe.

Shit shit shit. I'm in so much trouble.

Or I'm not.

The infinity stones are the most powerful items in the universe, aren't they? Not just my old universe… any universe. It doesn't matter which dimension I'm in… having just one infinity stone means sort of ruling that dimension, doesn't it? I mean not, ruling ruling, like King Kong on a skyscraper or Thanos on his giant royal space-toilet, but… but maybe an ability to change things… an opportunity…

If I can use this one to learn something about Thanos, maybe when Dr. Strange's future comes to pass, I go back to my real world, rise out of the ground like "What's UP, guys? Did you miss me?" and then I use all my new-found knowledge to help save the world and…

But if I'm going to learn how to defeat Thanos, a guy wearing a golden-glove with all six, how could I hope to learn anything if I only have one?

This is exactly how every villain origin story starts… desperation and good intentions. I'm not short on either.

The thing is, villains are always gunning for power and world domination, aren't they? I'm not - I wouldn't. I just need an upper hand.

Oh, and the ability to cross worlds and reanimate my ashes, but, one problem at a time.

I don't realize I'm staring at the floor until a pair of black boots steps into my view.

I glance up. "Uh… whatchya doing?"

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. "Stark forgot to ask the wizard for courage, so, you get the tin man."

"Ha," I say uncomfortably.

"BraVO, James!" Stark applauds from the front. "I mean it's a shame that you both seem to be entirely limited to references from one movie, but, it's better than nothing."

"Stealing," Bucky says slowly. "Is… wrong."

I nod. "Yes."

Bucky looks at Stark for help. "And you did it anyway."

I nod again, looking at the floor. "Yes."

Bucky stares at me. "I mean… do you normally do this sort of thing?"

I shake my head. "No, not at all."

Stark pipes up. "First time offense, I should think."

"You handle this, Stark, I'LL fly," Bucky starts to turn away in frustration, then rethinks this, and looks down at me again. "Look, kid," he says. "I'm sure you had your reasons."

Mr. Stark coughs.

Bucky sits beside me. "What is that thing?"

"This is uh… uh…" I fight for the right words. "This is an artifact that needs to be protected and when I saw the brawl and it fell out of his pocket and CLEARLY no one realized…"

"There you are, autopilot and cloaking! Thank you, Shield tech." Mr. Stark pushes away from the controls and turns his seat around with a satisfied grunt. "That should hold it for awhile. You may unbuckle your seat belts and move about the cabin."

I absently unbuckle my straps and stretch my legs out, holding the orb loosely in my hand. This suit feels awful. I really need a shower.

"Now… Peter Benjamin Parker," Mr. Stark says. "Whatever will I tell your Aunt when we get back?"

"Nothing," I say sullenly. "I have no excuses. This is something I needed and… I took it. I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Mr. Stark stands up, tucks his hands in his pockets, and walks over to us. "Try us," he says. "I promise it can't be much crazier than a group of Xandarians offering us freedom in exchange for carrying dangerous goods off-planet."

"It IS crazier," I say quickly.

"Well, Jesus, kid, don't play dumb, because we aren't dumb either," Bucky exclaims.

"Okay, okay!" I gulp. "It's just - it's just not something I can say - I mean - I haven't even thought this through yet! Here's the thing, it's just… I'm… well it's a thing that could save the world and it's safer in my hands than in anyone else's. So I made a, uh, a choice, and I took it, and I'm keeping it."

"Let me put this politely," Mr. Stark replies, "What the hell is it?"

"Remember when I mentioned Thanos?" I ask carefully. "When I asked who was threatening Earth?"

"Vaguely... Who is that?"

"Okay - so - like - I sort of lied before. About the aliens kidnapping me and stuff. It wasn't really what I let you believe."

"This 'Thanos-guy' stashed you aboard the same ship that the Grandmaster put us on?" Bucky asks slowly, pointing out how ludicrous is sounds by his tone of disbelief.

"No - Thanos - he - sort of, took over the whole world, and like, reversed time or something, I'm a little hazy on the details, he killed millions, and defeated the Avengers, and…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Mr. Stark holds up a hand. "Excuse me. We're still alive and well, thank you. Just a little scattered. You want to run that by me again, Doomsday?"

"I told you you wouldn't believe me!" I exclaim frustratingly.

"Okay, before you appeared magically on board the Grandmaster's vessel," Bucky tries patiently, "What happened where YOU'RE from?" He seems to be getting it.

"We lost the war." I look away. "If I tell you who died… maybe it ruins our chances of changing it."

Maybe it's not a spoiler if it's me. I'm the one who bit the dust, after all.

"Are you really giving us a 'I'm from the future' bit?" Mr. Stark throws up his hands. "I thought you were going for believable excuses for stealing…" He runs his hands through his hair and turns around agitatedly. "This is… this is…"

I was actually going the alternate reality route, but… good enough.

"I know you don't believe me…" I sigh.

"Did Strange put you up to this?" Mr. Stark grouses. "This has that son of bitch's scent all over it."

"Oh, that's right, you know Dr. Strange," I brighten up. At least I can try and make SOME of the pieces fit together here…

"Oh, yes, we've met," Mr. Stark rubs his temples exhaustedly. "Oh, Jesus. This is a disaster. Shit shit shit." He starts pacing back and forth, then stops and points at me. "And Dr. Strange thought sending YOU back to US in the middle of SPACE was a good idea?"

"No, it was my idea," I say quickly. "He didn't support it at all."

"So how the hell did this HAPPEN?"

"I really can't… you know… go into that," I sigh.

"Your Back to the Future jokes make a lot more sense now, you little punk," Mr. Stark continues, emotions escalating rapidly. "You should have told me. You SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME. The second you could. This isn't shit that you play around with. This is everyone's futures we're talking about, here? Do you understand that?"

I stand up, angry at the insinuation. "Of course I UNDERSTAND that! Why do you think I risked EVERYTHING to - to - to follow your tails into space ANYWAY to try and defeat Thanos when it means absolute certain death? Why do you think I'd do something like that? I'm trying to HELP!"

Mr. Stark looks fairly nonplussed, though a little confused, by my outburst. "Clearly there is a lot you haven't told me about this impending FUTURE you're trying to prevent."

"Yeah, well, I can't!" I bark, starting my own pacing routine back and forth. "If I could, I would - there's a lot you wouldn't understand, so I can't… you can't… it doesn't matter! None of it does! Certain things can't be undone, no matter what Dr. Strange says. I don't think he's right. I say it and I act like I believe it but I don't think there is a way to reverse what's happened. But I'll be damned if I don't try and I'll be damned if I do, so what's the difference?" I hold the orb out so he can look at it. He makes no move to do so. "This thing might not even matter in the long run. Maybe I try to cross - uh - over - timelines - you know. Like. Travel somewhere else. Or…"

"Time travel," Bucky says helpfully. He sounds exhausted. "I think the phrase you're looking for is time travel."

"Yeah, okay, TIME TRAVEL," I groan. "Maybe I try it and this thing turns to dust in my hands. But what if it doesn't? What if I can use it?"

"You have one more chance to tell me WHAT THE HELL IT IS," Mr. Stark nearly shouts, getting in my face. He pulls out every stop he has for being an intimidating mentor, Iron-Man, billionaire and Avenger all in one… with something imposing and meant to be obeyed, like Uncle Ben preparing to ground me. I've seen the expression before. It's like having a Dad, or so I've heard. "Give me a reason for not handing it over to this Collector guy on Knowhere right alongside this damn GERM and SCREW the future."

"Because you don't KNOW this Collector guy!" I shout back. "You don't know what he's going to do with this, much less this stupid germ thing. But you know me, don't you? Mr. Stark!" My voice breaks and I swallow thickly. "Mr. Stark, I'm trying to save us. Okay? Save you, me, Strange, Mr. Bucky - er, Bucky - everyone. Don't you trust me enough to at least try?"

Silence falls over us like a blanket. I feel sweat prickling at the back of my neck and scalp. I haven't argued like this with Mr. Stark since he took my suit. But I've grown up since then.

Mr. Stark softens, but does not relent. He crosses his arms over his chest, and I feel his anger rolling off of him in waves. "I get that YOU think you're doing the right thing," he says deeply, "But I'm not going to just blindly agree to something that could change a future that may very well be set in stone anyway. You have one more shot at telling me what this sphere is, or," he puts his hands on my shoulders. "I make the hard call. I hand this thing over to the Collector. We get track down Banner and get back to Earth. We try and fight Hela as we planned to. If this future happens, then, it happens, but we handle it. Like a team." He gives my shoulders a little shake. "Give me a reason to let you keep it."

"It's one of the infinity stones," I answer quickly. "There, happy? It's an infinity stone."

He pulls back. "And what the hell is an infinity stone?"

"You know, like," I tap my forehead with one finger. "Like Vision?"

"Visions of what?"

"Oh, you don't have Vision?" I blink. That's one major weirdness about different universes… I have no idea what's changed until I trip over it. "The android guy? From the airport?"

Bucky and Mr. Stark both stare at me like I grew an extra pair of ears. "Okay, okay, listen," I hold out the orb again. Mr. Stark takes it this time, carefully, and examines the twisty, floral patterns in the metal. "This thing, it's just, a container," I continue. "The real thing INSIDE is like, this purple stone that is made out of some sort of big-bang magic that created the universe AND can help destroy it. Thanos took it to do just that. But now I have it instead. So…" I slow down and take a deep breath. "I'm just going to… hang on to it. Until I can figure out what to do next."

I fall silent. Mr. Stark hands it back to me.

Bucky stands up and rolls his shoulders, cracking joints a little too loudly. "So you stole a bomb."

"Don't over simplify this," Stark answers swiftly. He looks back at me. "You - should - have - told - me."

"I was a little distracted by DYING," I reply cruelly. "There didn't seem to be a good time to have a meeting about this."

Mr. Stark closes his eyes briefly like I punched him.

"I didn't mean that," I backpeddle quickly. "I didn't. I'm sorry. But I DO mean there didn't seem to be a good time between the ship crashing and the… it was… everything was distracting. I was just trying to get in and get my bearings. You're right, I should have told you."

"Damn right you should have," Mr. Stark says.

"You said one of the infinity stones," Bucky says, holding out his hand. I place it in his palm and he brings it up to his eyes, rolling it back and forth and looking for the seam to open it. Finding none, he hands it back. "How many are there?"

"Oh," I think back, furrowing my brows. "I think there's five. Like, one per finger. Or six. No, I think there's six altogether, but, Thanos didn't have all of them when I fought him. I don't remember how many he had. Four? Five? I was a little distracted with the whole… you know… battle…"

"This big battle that takes place," Mr. Stark says. "In our future. Can you at least tell us…"

"I don't think so," I interrupt quickly. "I'm probably breaking every time travel rule in the book, aren't I? By trying to change what will happen?"

Bucky nods. "I would say yes, if this were a film. But it's not. I call it gathering intel before a mission."

"I appreciate that you are trying to save the world and everything," Mr. Stark says, the anger finally dissipating. "Look, I get it. I do. You have a chance to change something horrible. Even though I don't know what that is… I get it. I know what you'd want to try."

"Then let me try," I whisper desperately. "Please let me try."

Mr. Stark doesn't have a chance to agree or disagree.

"YOU ARE APPROACHING KNOWHERE," says the feminine voice from the controls. "PLEASE RESUME MANUAL CONTROL."

…

...

...

Coming Next: Unexpectedly possessing an infinity stone, Peter has unwittingly begun the domino effect of evil plot twists.

Worlds BIGGEST shout out to the best fiffer, Crystal, who this story is for (happy super early birthday!) Her enthusiasm and her incredible writing and art inspires me EVERY day. Her fangirling over this chapter was pure comedy gold and made me feel ALL the feels.

Please be sure to check out her "Paint It Black" universe here in fanfiction. There's currently three books, the third in progress. First: Paint it Black, Second: Silent Night, Third: Riders in the Sky. They are SO AMAZING and her writing is just delicious and incredibly sensory. Find her stories in my favorites or her penname QueenofCrystallopia in my favorite authors!

PERSONAL REVIEWER REPLIES THIS TIME :)

TheStarsAreBroken: Thank you love :)

NursingStudent: God bless you for the review. Not sure if your penname represents what you actually currently do, but if you are a nursing student, I'm sending long hours of sleep, wide-awake study time, and many hugs and cookies your way... if not a nursing student... just... yeah, I'm still sending those things anyway lol (hug)

Guest: Thank you dearie (hug)

locky3670: Love YOU

AppleSpongeCake: I love this prompt SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO much I CANNOT even and I already have a scene in my head and the feels and... GAH. Dude. I have a spot in this story where it (might) work. I have everything pre-summarized and outlined so there is a spot where I may squeeze it in, or at least a hint or a tribute to it. we'll see. I'd frickin LOVE to.

ShadowedNara: Oh man, I can see how it would be confusing with a lot of characters if you haven't seen all the movies... apologies in advance for all the spoilers! I am so glad you're enjoying though.

TeamCaptain2016: Peter certainly tries - one of my favorite flaws about him is that even in all his goodness, he's quite dishonest, lol. Even when he tries to tell them the truth, he STILL works in lies. It's one of the fascinating things about his character in every comic and movie!

EleanorGardner: Me TOO, oh my gosh. Freaking infinity war broke me. I couldn't even go see it in the theater a second time. I was just too dead. This story is keeping my brain intact lol

AndurilofTolkien: I like YOU

cargumentluv: AW its so nice to see... hear? Read from you? I know I haven't posted in Kahena in a LOOOONG time. I am so happy you're here and enjoying this one. Much love! Thank you for the review!

64Felicity & curry-llama: It ended up being a double-pun because they do get there really fast but still don't actually land on Knowhere until the next chapter lol... I felt like both pain and pride in this XD Thanks for the reviews!

Agent Melinda May: The only thing that would make this story better is if YOU were in it, May! ;) ;) Seriously though thank you so much for the review. I really hope this story helps bridge the gap. Hopefully the ending will... ya know, line up somehow, but since I can't possibly guess how they'll begin Avengers 4, it'll be really hard lol