Well, guys, I didn't exactly finish my goal by posting this final chapter before I saw Endgame, but here it is. I saw the movie last night and it was very good I enjoyed it very much, but I kept my original plan for this epilogue, so there should be no spoilers or anything. But this is it, guys. We made it! I can't even begin to thank every single one of you for coming along in this journey, this story alone took nearly a year to write. It was well worth it. Your guy's amazing support is what got me through this, and I could not be more grateful. So there may be one more chapter after this just to answer reviews and any questions you have, but I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have written it. I do have one request, however. Being the last chapter, we are at 80 some reviews, and I would be overjoyed if we could get 100. Even if it's just saying hi or that you liked or didn't like the story, just take a few seconds and review, it would mean the world to me.
**Also, a side note, I have edited this chapter slightly because I totally forgot to add in a very special character. He is the reason all of this has happened, and I needed to pay tribute. Thank you, sir. Excelsior!
REVIEWS:
Hyraeth: Yeah it must have been a pretty weird experience...
Guest: yep, that was a fun line to write!
Verinorina: Yeah, pretty much ;)
hermionegrangerfan2017: Well, I couldn't kill off everybody, now could I?
mfaerie32: Well I'm so glad you enjoyed it!
Alright guys, one last time. I hope you enjoy the final chapter!
This is the fight of our lives. The simple phrase had become so much for the reigning heroes. Life itself was at stake, and blood, sweat, and tears fighting for it. But it was over, they were finished.
Tony had one arm stretched out over the back of the couch, his feet propped up on an ottoman in front of him as he laid on the couch. He was in the main space of the Avengers Compound, the place he had created for the Avengers. Home. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of white that looked to be the hair of a person out the window to his left. He squinted to get a better look, but it had disappeared.
Two weeks after Thanos had come to Earth intending to wipe out half of humanity, things were finally starting to get back to a sense of normal. After watching three people who were supposedly dead up and walking around, the heroes had tried to make it back home. Vision had the last of his memories and personalities implanted back in him with the help of Shuri's machine that had worked on him earlier. Everyone had met back in the palace court, awaiting another attack. No one had really been sure that it was truly over. Tension buzzed around the room like an annoying fly that no one could find. Guards stood stock-still at entryways and windows, spears out ready for an attack. Eyes flicked around the room, wincing at even the slightest noise out of place, their nerves shot. When T'Challa had taken his seat on the throne, everyone seemed to calm down for a little bit. He took control, sending guards out to check on the citizens, making sure his people were alright.
The heroes made their farewells to the Wakandans, thanking them for the gracious use of the palace and co-operation during the fighting. Shuri had run up and given Peter Parker a big hug, holding her friend as tight as she could. They had only met a little bit before, but they felt like they knew each other for ages. With a tearful goodbye, Shuri made sure to give Parker a way to communicate with her and made him promise that he would call. After departing with the Wakandan king and royal family, the rest of the Avengers and the Guardians took up jets to fly back to rural New York.
Tony had made sure to get on the opposite plane from Steve, not ready to have another conversation. They had made progress, sure, but the bulk of it was under the stress of battle. Tony was scared the next time they saw each other he would say something he didn't mean and they would be back to square one. Steve didn't miss Tony's hesitation to go on the plane with him, and Steve wasn't sure he could blame him. When they accidentally made eye contact, Tony broke away first and rushed into the plane. Steve sighed, running a shaking hand through his hair. They had a lot of issues to work through, and it wasn't going to be easy.
Once in the air, the three planes flew in a V formation in the air, with FRIDAY in the lead and the two others angled behind them. Clint and Natasha piloted the other quinjet, while Peter Quill had found safety in his own ship. He would never admit it, but when he saw that Nebula had used his ship to not only bring them back safely but also without hurting his baby anymore he almost cried. Again. Quill had slipped into the familiar seat, screaming home, and automatically flipped the switched to start liftoff. He never even had to think about it.
In the lead plane, Tony found himself nodding off in the pilot's seat, barely able to keep his eyes open. It was deathly silent in the jet, the heavy stress of the battle lifting off from shrugged shoulders and exhaustion starting to set in. The struggle for consciousness was a losing battle for most of the heroes, while others were wide awake with panicked breaths; waiting for another attack, another snap that would take half of them away. There was no in-between.
When all the planes touched down on the landing pad, the breath that nobody knew they were holding released. The heroes rushed inside, everyone heading for the same place. Home. There was a single collective thought, one that Wanda didn't even need to put in their heads: sleep. The exhausted heroes gathered in the common area, scrounging up whatever pillows, blankets, furniture they could find, even going with nothing at all, and sleeping.
Some people move on. But not us. Finally, back in a safe place, the heroes and families slept for almost an entire day. While it was sleep, by no means was it a restful one. At least once every single hero woke up with tears in their eyes, sweat-soaked clothes and haunted minds.
Bucky had been the first to wake up. Too many memories, too many nightmares implanted in his head. Most of them weren't even his own. Years of being the Winter Soldier had led to years of horrible dreams. Being in Wakanda and staying out in the open, he has gotten his sense of being human back. He had gotten nightmares less and less until it was basically a bad memory. When he woke up in the Avengers Compound, all he could see was orange. There were no windows, it was open space. There was no tiled floor, it was all sand. The orange sand. Bright lights from the ceiling were white, but trapped in his own mind Bucky could see nothing else but that endless orange sun.
"Bucky." His name drew him back, and the nightmare slowly drifted back to real life. The orange sun was a single LED light swinging lightly from the ceiling. The floor was tile, and glass windows and walls made the room. In front of his vision, Steve slowly stepped over a body with his hands in front of him. Bucky's Winter Soldier mind took over, watching every movement with precise stares, assessing the threat.
"Buck, your okay." Steve stepped over a body. A dead body? Bucky saw flashes from the soul world and he shook his head to clear them. He watched the rise and fall of a thin chest. A sleeping body.
"Bucky, drop the knife." Bucky didn't even realize he was holding his weapon until he looked down to his metal arm, gripped tightly around the metal knife. He ignored the command and drew his lips back in a snarl when Steve stepped closer.
"Bucky, it's me. Steve." Somehow, Steve's name broke through the barriers, and the Soldier fell from his face. He was back to Bucky.
"Steve?" Bucky asked, voice breaking as he let the knife slip to the floor. It hit with an echoing clang, but none of the other sleeping figures were disturbed. Bucky stepped forward and Steve grabbed his arms, pulling him into a tight hug. Eventually, their legs started to give out and they sunk to the floor, not letting go of one another. For as long as they could, they could never let go of each other.
The rest of the heroes followed suit, waking up one by one by a with fear embracing their features, unable to fall back asleep without consolation from a loved one. The very last was Peter Parker, bolting up with a terrified scream. Tony had woken up instantly, running over to the kid who was rocking back and forth, knees pulled to his chest. His face was buried in his knees, shoulders shaking in quiet sobs.
"Kid," Tony said gently and reached out a gentle hand. As soon as Tony's hand touched Peter's shoulder, Peter moved liked lightning and wrapped his arms around Tony, sobbing into the older man's chest. Tony was surprised at first but slowly brought his arms down so he was holding the kid. Tony ran his hand through Peter's hair, whispering quiet things to him and slowly but surely Peter calmed down.
Tony didn't know how long he sat there holding Peter. The kid had experienced more than a kid his age ever should. He should be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, not the deadly space battles Spider-Man. Tony could help but think of the fact that the kid was only there because of him. Peter could've died, and Tony was the one who brought him along. But then Tony started thinking about it, and Peter chose to come along. Tony told him to stay on the ground, to be safe, but Peter had clung to the outside of the ship, sealing his fate. Tony couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. His stupid, reckless, brave kid.
When Tony looked down again, Peter was fast asleep, still clinging to the man. Tony shifted to get in a more comfortable position, and Peter's grip tightened around him. "I'm here kid," he whispered gently.
"I'll always be here."
We've all lost. They brought everyone back, so there were no funerals to attend. No digging out everyone's best suit or black dress from the depths of closets. There had been a great loss, but everyone was back. All except one.
Wanda was one of the first people to wake up after the group nap, and she couldn't get past the overwhelming sense of regret. She had found the quietest places she could be, up on top of the roof of the compound. Her arms were wrapped tightly, internal bruising causing limited pain, but it was manageable. However, she broke Dr. Banner's only rule to get to the roof: do not use her powers.
She had found the little safe haven when she was training with Natasha. She let emotions take control and she completely lost control, nearly breaking down a wall when she threw Natasha against it. Wanda had freaked out and tried to get as far away as possible, finding the quietest spot she could. Natasha had found her up there not too much later, and they talked through. After that, whenever she needed a space to be alone and just be able to think, she went there.
So while the sun shone brightly overhead, Wanda had flown up to the roof and sat with her legs dangling off the edge. The wind blew through her hair and the heat felt good on her face, warming her up. She just needed it to be quiet, where she could think.
Wanda didn't even know someone was behind her until Clint gently placed his hand on her back. She flinched and turned around, hands lighting up red looking for the threat. When her eyes met soft grey ones she let you an exasperated sigh.
"I could've hurt you, know you." Clint shrugged as she confessed, swinging his legs over the sides and letting them swing in the breeze. The stairway door had never opened, the master assassin had taken a special route, and walked across the graveled top without a sound, a trick he learned from Natasha.
"You can't hurt me," He said reassuringly to the young girl and Wanda laid her head on his shoulder. He brought his arm up and hooked it around her shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on her arm. Wanda opened her mouth to ask just for a quiet moment, but when Clint didn't push the conversation any further, she sunk back in a smile and just sat. Clint knew Wanda would talk when she was ready, and he wasn't going to push for it.
"I saw him," Wanda whispered quietly, a tear sneaking out of her eyes and trailing down her cheek. Clint gave her arm a comforting squeeze, letting her know that she was still there.
"When we were getting everyone out, I saw him," she spoke with a stronger voice, but in a different language. She knew Clint understood Russian, he had worked with a Russian spy for over half his life, so she spoke in the most familiar language. Natasha had been teaching her how to hide her accent to be a spy, but it was easier to revert to her native tongue.
"He had shown up a few times before, like when I was first in the stone. He was there, I could touch him, but it didn't feel real. He wouldn't talk to me, and all the… blood was still on him." She took a deep breath, staring out at the landscape before her, focusing on the way the birds flew over the treetops.
"He left, but when I was bringing people out of the stone Pietro came back again. He stood in the back, and he was the last one. I… asked him if he could come back. He said he couldn't." Wanda paused to keep from hyperventilating and continued. "Pietro was right there, all I had to do was grab and pull him out, but I did nothing." Clint nodded his head and continued to not speak. She would work it out, and if she needed him, she would ask. Just as he thought, Wanda continued on although this time was different. She had a sense of relief in her voice as she worked through the words.
"But… I don't think he was really there. I could touch him, but he couldn't speak, and the bloodstains were still there. After years, they would've like closed or something. I think… he was just there to help."
"Then you did the right thing," Clint's voice broke through and she looked up at him with a smile.
"Thanks, Clint."
"Anytime." They sat there in silence for a while longer, watching the birds as they tweeted and sang their songs, flying around in the air. A sudden realization dawned on her, and she stared at the older man in confusion.
"Wait, how did you get up here?" She had to use her power to get up to the roof of the straight walls of the compound, and there were no ladders to the top from the outside. "Did you…?" Clint let the question hang in the air, letting her think about the answers. He was a master assassin after all.
Back inside the compound, slowly heroes started to wake up. Some sat up, disoriented and confused, momentarily wondering where they were. Awareness came quickly after and relaxation set in. They were safe.
Peter Quill opened up his eyes with flash, and when he felt a weight pressed down on his chest, he clenched his fist to keep from jerking away. Calming his panicked breaths, the weight on his chest turned into a familiar head, long brown hair had twisted down into the red. Gamora was sleeping on his chest, her hand clutched tightly to his shirt. She mumbled slightly, and Quill ran a hand through her hair, before planting a soft kiss on the top of her head.
"Quill? Quill!" Gamora called out for him first, like she was looking for him, then it was urgent and frantic.
"Gamora, I'm here," Quill shushed her and she blinked until her eyes opened fully. She shut them again and exhaled. She was safe they were okay. Quill was about to say something else when he felt something else on his body. He lifted his head lightly and found the rest of the Guardians laying atop their leader. Nebula was holding onto Gamora's hand and her other was against Quill's shoulder. Rocket was curled up on Quill's other side, his furry head on Quill's outstretched arm, and Groot next to Rocket. The weirdest was Drax, whose arms were wrapped around Quill's legs at the ankles and drooling on his boots.
"Get… off!" Quill said harshly, shaking his legs and knocking Drax off. They all sat up and around, looking at Quill for answers.
"What are we going to do now?" Mantis asked, her unnaturally large eyes looking up at Quill. He sat there and thought. His ship was outside, they could get back inside and go to space, where they were from, or they could stay. Hang out with the Avengers a little while longer, stay in the compound for some good., natural sleep. With one look at the exhausted faces around him, Quill made his decision.
"We're going to stay here for a little while longer. Rest up, eat some good food, and then go back." By the content look on his team's faces, he made the right decision.
Whatever it takes.
Hawkeye gathered up his wife in a rib-crushing hug, before planting a big kiss on her lips. Behind him, Cooper and Lila giggled, making disgusting noises behind their back. Clint used this as motivation and did it even more, before chasing after his kids with hands ready to tickle. They ran around the kitchen, where Clint and Laura were making breakfast with what was in the pantries. Soon the smell of pancakes and waffles drifted through the air, bringing hungry Avengers and heroes around with gurgling stomachs.
Clint sat down with his own plate of pancakes stacked high, drowned in syrup, but didn't touch his food. His forked danced around the plate, making patterns in the syrup.
"Clint?" Laura's gentle voice brought his attention up to her. She gave him a soft smile, an apron she found tied around her waist covered in flour and sugar. Her hair was pulled back to get out of her face. God, she was beautiful.
"Are you alright?" The simple question was anything but simple. Was he alright? Was he ever going to be alright? His entire family had died right in front of him. He had been a complete and awful wreck, with killing Thanos and bringing his family back were the only things on his mind. But they were back, and Thanos was dead. But Clint didn't know if he would ever truly be 'alright'. With a joyful shriek, Clint turned and saw Cooper throw a chunk of flour at Lila, who threw her hands in front of her face to try and stop it, but it was too late. The flour-coated her face and Cooper turned around mocking innocence. When he turned away, Lila grabbed a handful of flour and dumped it over Cooper's head. Nathaniel clapped his little hands and jumped in his seat. Laura went over to stop the mini food war before it escalated fully when she was attacked from behind. In the confusion, Natasha had grabbed her own flour from the counter and dropped it on Clint's wife. Laura froze in her spot and slowly started to turn around. Natasha never saw the grip of flour she had in her own hand before it was flung in the assassin's face.
Watching his family laugh and play in front of him was all he needed. Laughter from the rest of the group brought him back to reality, and he looked down at the plate of pancakes in front of him. Four little blueberries sat on top of his pancakes, and he picked them up with a smile. With the wicked aim, he threw each of the berries and hit the foreheads of his two kids, his wife, and his partner. Laughing, everyone else ganged up on him and tossed fist full of flour at him, coating him in white.
"Yeah," Clint said softly, wiping the flour from his face. "I'm alright."
Whatever it takes.
Natasha had taken a shower right after the breakfast, wiping off the dirt, blood and grim from battle, and whatever flour was left. In the shower, she let the burning water run over her, trying to rub away the memories. She scrubbed at her skin, harder and harder when the grime wouldn't seem to come off. Natasha couldn't get it off, she couldn't get it off. Her skin was rubbed raw when she finally broke down in tears. She sat on the floor of the shower, head buried in her knees as the water ran over her face. She bit back a muffled scream, biting her fist.
Natasha couldn't get over the fact. They could've lost so much. Something in her mind told her that it was fine, she needed to get over it, they won. Natasha was an emotionless killer, and especially during missions, there was no room for tears. But she had changed, being an Avenger, and she had a family know. To think that any of her family could've died…
When Natasha finally stepped out of the shower, she pulled on a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants and stepped out. It was quiet, and she passed a few people in the hallways. One of those people was Bruce, his glasses sitting on top of his head and traditional lab coat sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He had been working non-stop since everyone came home, checking injuries and making sure everyone was alright. The two adults stopped in the hallway, staring at each other before Natasha broke the silence first.
"Bruce…" Bruce shook his head looking at the ground. He knew. She knew. What had happened between them was a one-time thing.
"I'm glad you're okay, Natasha." With that, they parted, Natasha back to her room and Bruce back to the lab.
Whatever it takes.
Bruce took his supplies back to the lab, where the last of his patients were getting checked up. He buried himself into his work, trying to take the Hulk out of his mind. They had a complicated relationship. There was a delicate balance that more often than not tipped to one side. The scale had screwed up completely when the Hulk had been fighting for two years straight, so when they had fought Thanos for the first time, Hulk refused to come out at all. It had taken lots of coaxing and finally the thought of revenge for Hulk to come out and fight Thanos.
Now he was back at Bruce, and he was barely able to keep the Hulk in the back of his mind. He took the blood pressure of Loki as Thor stood anxiously at the side. He wasn't even sure the blood pressure cuffs would work, but he needed to keep moving. Graciously, Loki didn't take any jabs at Bruce and let him just work.
As Bruce moved onto his next person, he went over the possible outcomes. Either he would never figure out the perfect mix of Hulk and Banner, and he would be stuck with random outbursts or periods of time that one wouldn't come out at all. Or, maybe once, he would find that balance. He could be the man and also be the monster, without any fear.
That day wasn't coming anytime soon, but Bruce knew that when it did, he would have his family around him to help.
Whatever it takes.
Thor helped Loki off the Midgardian medical table, and they walked the hallways of the compound. Neither of them really spoke, but the presence of them spoke volumes. Thor could feel Loki's discomfort in the compound, getting sideways glances from most of the heroes. Thor really couldn't blame them. But he kept his head high and moved Loki along, telling him to forget about it. Loki had gone farther than Thor had ever expected him too. He had become so much more than the little brother he knew long ago.
Nearing the front of the compound, the brothers stopped and stared out of the tall glass windows. Thor wrapped his arm around Loki's shoulders, and for once, the younger brother didn't pull away. Suddenly, the sun peeked out over the trees and through the windows, lighting up the two brothers.
Loki opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he looked over to see tears rolling down Thor's cheeks. He didn't even need to say it, Thor knew exactly what it meant. Without knowing, Loki started to cry as well.
Whatever it takes.
Steve saw as Thor was standing with his brother at the window and couldn't help but smile. He had just talked with Tony, and everything was alright. Steve could feel the hesitation as he sat down with Tony, but it easily was broke down with apologies from both sides. All was forgiven and forgotten. Now, he was just bringing back a plate of pancakes to Bucky, who was getting extra sleep in an actual bed. Steve put the plates down on the counter next to the bed, getting one more glance of his best friend as he walked out of the room and shut the door behind them.
They had been through so much together. With a sudden overwhelming emotion, Steve choked back and sob and slid down to the floor. He pressed the back of his head to the door, thinking the harder he pressed the farther away everything would go. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.
Steve wanted to fight in the war, he didn't ask for everything else that came with it. He never asked for his best friend to 'die', have his memories ripped from him and forget he existed. He never asked to be put under the ice for decades. He never asked for the love of his life to have an entire life without him. He didn't ask for Thanos to come and rip everything he had just gotten back from him. He just wanted to fight a war. War was simple. Wasn't it?
On the other side of the door, Bucky was awake. He had heard Steve come in, and for reasons unknown to him, he pretended he was asleep. He had stayed that way until Steve shut the door behind him. When Bucky heard Steve's cries from the other side of the door, he got up and reached for the handle. He stopped and pulled back for the same unknown reason. What was it? Bucky couldn't think clearly, so he sat down with his back pressed up against the door.
The men who had been through thick and thin sat on opposite sides of the door, tears falling. Without words and without moving, both of them felt a little better, knowing that they were just on the other side of the door.
Whatever it takes.
Tony wasn't really paying attention to the TV that flicked through random shows in front of him. It was mostly static anyway. He was more focused on the people around him. They walked past the common room, in quiet conversations or groups. Tony liked to people watch, and his family around him was the most interesting. Rhodey walked past at one point, flashing Tony a smile before walking to the labs. Tony could never get rid of the lingering guilt that he was the reason that Rhodey would never walk on his own again.
Tony had the guilt for a lot of things. More than he could count, really. He couldn't help but feel that this whole thing was his fault. And more often than not, he had someone around him to help him through that feeling, letting him know what actually happened. It was a system, and it always came around just when he needed it. A hand on his shoulder made him lean his head backward until he was looking at Pepper almost upside down.
"Hey," Tony said softly, and Pepper leaned down to give him a kiss. His favorite people in the world were there with him, and he could ask for nothing more.
"Hey yourself," Pepper replied automatically. She looked down at smiled. "How is he?" Tony followed her gaze to the small body leaning up against Tony. Peter hadn't let go of Tony since they got back, and Tony couldn't blame him. So when Tony laid on the couch to catch a quick break, Peter had crawled up beside him and fell asleep. Tony had finished his break long ago, but he didn't dare disrupt Peter's sleep.
"May came by not too long ago, and I'm going to bring him back there a little later. But he's doing alright."
"Good." Pepper gave him another kiss, giving one on the top of Peter's head as well, before walking off.
Tony sighed contently, staring at the ceiling above him. The same flash of white caught his eye once again, and he stared out the window. A man was standing outside, staring at him through the window. In a single motion, the man with white hair and glasses framing his face lifted his hand in a wave to Tony. Tony didn't know him, but something about him was so familiar. Tony couldn't help but feel like he had met him before. Names popped in his head, trying to find the right one. Stan! Tony remembered running into him a few times, but why he was standing outside the compound was a more pressing question. Suddenly, he had the overwhelming urge to say two simple words. Thank you. The man outside the window smiled and nodded, almost like he heard Tony, and turned to walk away. Tony watched the man's retreating back, and when he blinked the man was gone. He didn't understand what had just happened, but he felt a certain sense of peace. As soon looked back to the compound, the rooms around him flickered with life and movement. It was a slow transition back into normalcy, but they would get through it. As a team, just like always.
It would take a bit to find the balance of normal life again, but they would find it. Whatever it takes. Tony shot the sky an ironic smile. They would be balanced again.
Perfectly balanced.
That's it! I hope you enjoyed the story! And remember...
Stay hilarious, be awesome, trust God, and love Avengers!
-avengersashley