There's no time. No time to mourn, to grieve. No time to even… comprehend what has been lost. Who has been lost.

The others argue and throw blame. They cry and reel and even hurl items into the lake to display the depths of their agony. They sit in silence, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, and attempt to bear this new weight. Together. Alone. Try to bear it as though it's a burden that can actually be carried at all.

But for Tessa, it's different. For once, her mind doesn't spin and lurch. For once, everything inside of her is quiet. And still. And oddly… numb. She hasn't felt this way… ever. For all the loss encountered, all the guilt experienced, all the grief heaped onto her over the years, this feels different.

There's something bitter about Natasha's death, something sour and… duplicitous. Something infuriating. Something that causes a resentful sort of hostility to churn deep down in her gut. Because she had done this to herself.

Nat hadn't just died. She wasn't killed. She chose this. She sacrificed herself. And yeah, maybe it was for the greater good, for the benefit of the rest of the team… the world. Maybe it was so that they all could have what they so desperately needed. Maybe it was because she'd gone too long feeling Clint's pain and grief from afar, unable to help. And seeing Tessa's pain and grief up close, close enough to touch, yet never able to wipe away. Maybe what she did was right. Noble at the least. But still…

Natasha had left.

And… how fucking dare she.

"You okay?" Steve asks, his warm palm falling to Tessa's shoulder. She looks up and realizes that everyone else has already gone back up to the compound, she and Steve being the only ones remaining out on the dock. Her eyes shift over to meet his, bright blue gleaming with unshed tears, expression stoic despite the ache even she can feel sizzling beneath.

"No," she replies simply, blinking away her gaze and shrugging off his tender touch. "No," she repeats as she turns and follows the others back inside, eager to do whatever needs to be done to finish this bullshit once and for all.

000

Back in the lab, all is quiet, everyone standing painfully still as they watch Tony carefully lay out the gathered stones into the newly built gauntlet. The tension is palpable, even for someone not adept at sensing energies. For Tessa, the anxious silence she walks into is deafening.

She slams up her walls, blocking out any and all feelings and sentiments and fears from those around her. Cutting herself off, barring distracting presences, preserving her own energy as best she can. To be ready for what's to come, she tells herself to stave off the hint of guilt creeping up her spine. To be ready…

The moment Tony slides the final stone into place, turning and declaring with a relieved sigh, "Got it," Tessa shoves her way to the center of the room.

She steps forward and holds out her hand, gives a tight, stern nod and says simply, "Let's do this."

"Sorry… what now?" he questions, hands falling to his hips as his eyes widen and brows shoot up in an incredulous arch.

She rolls her eyes. "Tony, c'mon." Her voice is full of impatience – impertinence – and she curls her fingers up into a gimme gesture whilst staring him down.

But he doesn't yield, no matter how ready she looks – decked out in a new and improved tac suit, stance firm and unyielding – nor how serious her tone. Instead, he throws up a hand of his own, flat palm answering her gimme with a hold up, hang on… uh, no sort of wave. "We never decided who was going to – "

"I'll do it," Thor booms from across the room. He strides over, his actions purposeful but his drawn expression, the bend to his shoulders, showing pure apprehension. "I'm the strongest here. It should be me."

Again, Tessa rolls her eyes. "You're not the strongest here. And you can't – "

"I can," he interrupts blithely. Then, after a short, shaky breath, "I must."

"Thor," she begins, shaking her head slowly. "This isn't… this won't…" But the words don't come out. She pulls in a deep breath, gaze flickering away for a moment, away from him and all the others and down to the floor being scuffed beneath her shoes. Another breath, this one an almost weary sigh, and she looks back up, locks onto his miserable eyes. "This is for me. I am energy. This is – "

But it's Bruce who interrupts then. "No, Tess, you're wrong. This one's on me."

She spins vehemently around, chin jutting defiantly and eyes burning with a need to challenge. But her countenance begins to calm when she sees him, sees the utterly sincere look on his face. Thor wants this because he thinks it might somehow redeem him. And if she's to be totally honest, part of her wants to put on that glove for the very same reason.

Bruce's lips curve into a soft, somber smile as he watches her battle against the desire to argue with him. "You might be powerful… might be more powerful than the rest of us combined when you use your powers. But you're still human. Me, I'm basically indestructible. I'm… well, I'm made for this."

She says nothing in return. Nor does anyone else. What is there to say, really? The fact is, they only get one shot at this, just one chance to make things… right. To bring back the ones they love. To try and reverse the pain of the last five years. To fill the empty spaces that had been carved into their hearts. To make losing Natasha worth… something.

No one objects to Bruce's assertion. No one utters a single word in protest. They all just… watch. Tony sets the protective Barn Door Protocol. Everyone who has some sort of armor or shield built into their suit, activates it and takes an at the ready stance. And they watch in nervous awe as he slips the gauntlet on. Watch as untold power swiftly creeps up his arm, infiltrating his flesh. Watch as he cries out in pain, holding the burning arm high.

Thor's the first to move, leaping forward with a simple plea to, "Take it off!"

Steve leans around Tessa – still holding his shield in place to block her body – and asks the same dumb question he'd posed to her no more than an hour ago. "Are you okay?"

Bruce turns and nods. And raises his hand even higher.

"Do it," Tessa whispers from behind the shield, teeth gritted as she stares ahead with wide, eager eyes. "Do it."

And he does.

Snap.

Bruce hits the floor with a dull thud and everyone freezes for the swift beat it takes for them to realize that the earth isn't crumbling around them. They relax their defensive postures, release the breaths they'd all been holding. Tessa shoves away the shield and sidesteps Steve, racing to Bruce's side. Tony does the same, kicking away the still smoldering glove as he approaches.

"Hey" he mutters, bending over the top of his felled friend. "Hey. You good, man?"

Bruce gives a weak nod, his gaze slowly shifting away from Tony's face and up over his shoulder to the massive skylights above. The protective protocol lifts, armor retreating back inside the walls of the compound to let the sun shine once again.

"He's fine," Tessa breathes out. She kneels down and shoulders Tony away, her fingers dancing lightly over the burned skin of Bruce's arm. Her face is set and stern as she assesses the man, his breathing, pulse, the sickly pull to his oddly thick, green flesh. "He's fine," she repeats – more for herself than anyone else in the room – as she looks up and takes in his pained grimace.

Yes, he's fine. He's breathing. He's conscious. He appears to be… with it. He's fine, plays over and over again inside her head, a silent mantra set to repeat until she's able to fully believe it herself. He's fine. Because damn it she couldn't take it if they'd lost him too.

She's about to ask about the obvious – Did it work? How can we know? Can someone… – when Bruce's eyes, still trained on the sky above, blow wide. And a sudden darkness descends over them like a swift-moving storm cloud.

Tony jumps to in a flash, reaching down to grab hold of Tessa, wrapping tight around her, his suit forming a protective shield, just as the world explodes into a new sort of chaos around them. A sudden blast blows apart the ground beneath their feet, the home that surrounds them, rocketing through and sending the team sprawling in every direction.

After what seems like an eternity – though it couldn't have been more than mere moments – the dust begins to settle. Tessa lets out a small moan as Tony slowly pushes himself upright, giving her room to breathe. She continues to lay prone on what remains of the floor of the lab for another long moment, working her jaw in an attempt to rid her ears of the incessant ringing.

He reaches down a hand, his gaze still wandering aimlessly amid the wreckage. "See, you're not the only one who can save a life." She takes hold of him and gives a pained grunt as he hauls her upright and pulls her to his chest for a quick moment to try and steady her on her feet. He looks at her assessingly, deep brown eyes filled with concern despite the light, jovial quality to his voice as he says, "Now we're even."

She lets out another groan as her ankle falters beneath her, objecting to her weight, and emits a swift wince as a sharp pain hits between her ribs. "Sure," she seethes, carefully shifting out of his hold and turning to take in the damage. Her eyes blow wide as they land on the cavernous hole to her left, a massive part of the compound collapsed down into the earth below. "Where's…" she starts, first thinking of Bruce, who was lying right where the enormous hole now sits. But before another soul enters her mind, a loud, shrill, piercing screech sounds through the com device in her ear, causing her to flinch and recoil as her right hand flies up to smack herself in the head.

Tony shoots her a sidelong glare – "You okay?" – as he steps over some rubble to retrieve Steve's shield.

Steve. Yes. Where is Steve?

"Uh," she starts, about to nod a yes and join him in the search when suddenly a staticky mayday sounds in her ear. She grimaces, the ringing still dulling all other noise, as she taps vigorously at the com to try to get anything else to come out of it. But there's nothing more. A quick glance to her left, to the hole in the floor, and she notices a bit of an embankment jutting out, mitigating the steep drop just enough that she's pretty sure she can get down there without falling to her death. "Find Steve," she shouts over her shoulder, not realizing it comes out as a bellow what with the steady ringing and ever-growing hum in her ears.

"What…" Tony starts, stuttering to a stop as he watches her drop and shimmy down into the bowels of what once was his most treasured property. He lunges to the side as if to stop her, but she's already gone. Gone after the others whom, he assumes, tumbled down that way when whatever hit… hit. He shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and lets out a long, irritated sigh before turning to begin his hunt for any Avengers still remaining on this level.

Tessa continues to press and pound at the com in her ear as she awkwardly traverses the wreckage down below. But no more calls come through. "Bruce!" she calls out, only just starting to be able to hear again, just now able to recognize the decibel of her own voice. "Bruce!" she tries again at a more appropriate level. No answer. "Rhodey! Clint!" Nothing.

She continues on, finally popping the useless com out and shoving it into a pocket on her tac suit as she strains her ears. There's the sound of rushing water coming from somewhere. There are deep rumbles – rather unsettling, truth be told – that seem to emanate from the unsteady structure around her. There's the occasional whistle of wind as air blows through one gap or crack or another. But there are no voices, no shouts for help nor answers to her calls. There is nothing… until the tumble of loose rocks catches her attention and she spins to the right.

"Clint?" she barks out in surprise, ducking all the way into the small tunnel she was just about to pass by. "Jesus," she mutters as she unsteadily heads for her friend.

"Hey, Doc," he offers, sounding a bit out of breath, but grinning just the same as he sees her making her way through the tight tunnel, awkwardly hobbling over the rubble. "What are you doing down in these parts?"

"Oh, you know," she breathes out with a shrug. "Just thought I'd take a walk, get some not-so-fresh air."

"Yeah?" He reaches a hand out and steadies himself on the stony wall, waiting for her to pick her way across the perilous ground to him. "Don't suppose you know the way back out of the underworld?"

She stumbles again, her feet nearly flying out from under her as loose rocks shoot out from beneath her heels. "I look like Persephone to you?" she mutters, regaining her footing and trying to ignore the snort of a laugh that she's pretty sure she heard break through the dull ringing in her ears.

He shrugs. "Not a clue."

"Well…" she begins, words trailing off as something catches her eye. She stops short, barely a foot away from Clint, and cocks her head to the side, looking just beyond him at a peculiar golden glint with a small pop of color shooting through the dirt and grime.

He turns around to see what she's so intently staring at, both sets of eyes settling simultaneously on what they easily recognize as the newly crafted Infinity Gauntlet. He looks up and catches her gaze for a fraction of a second.

"Race ya for it," he teases with a wink, preparing to leap ahead and grab the golden glove. Tessa smiles wide and bright and lunges forward as well, her foot catching as she does so. Clint spins around, the prize just outside of his reach, when he hears the stones spill and sputter around her. "Ouch," he exclaims with a laugh as he watches her fall to her knees. "You are the biggest damn klutz," he goes on, stepping up to lend a helping hand.

But she doesn't accept it, instead remaining frozen in place, wide eyes trained straight ahead, piercing into the dark. "Take it," she states, barely a whisper, as something in the air shifts.

He senses it too, a swift and uneasy change. And he turns, narrows his gaze to see what she's homed in on. It's too dark to see, but he knows that something's there, can feel it in his bones. He carefully pulls out an arrow and trains it at the small opening he just came through, holds it for a fraction of a moment in the hopes that whatever is there might move forward just enough to be seen. It doesn't, so he lets the arrow loose down the tunnel.

Something resonates from the entrance, a piercing shriek that sounds utterly inhuman. And before its echo begins to fade, another sound churns toward them… deep, low, menacing growls unlike anything he's heard before. He falters back, his own feet catching on the hazardous terrain, and he tumbles down to his butt in the rubble beside her, expression of shock rocking his face, swift hit of fear slamming into Tessa's once again open senses.

"Take it," she repeats, this time louder. "Run!"

And he does, leaning forward to grab the gauntlet just as the mysterious and terrifying horde of monsters spills out of the tunnel in front of them. He scurries to his feet, reaching down to take hold of her as he does so, giving her arm a sharp yank before dropping it and hopping back, stunned by the burning shock that comes off of his friend. He looks down and sees bright red swirls of light dancing around her fingers, her hands, pulsing up her arms and licking at her neck.

"Uh, Doc," he mutters, but says nothing else, words and breath and all sense leaving him as he sees the red energy shoot forward, light sputtering ahead and winding around the alien creatures storming towards them.

The things blow apart in front of them, filling the tunnel with a barrage of blood and sinew that the next wave of dog-like beasts slips and slides on as they unwittingly rush toward the very same fate. It's a minute, if even, before the entrance to the tunnel is clogged with chunks and remnants of all the bodies, effectively closing off the way for any more to enter.

Tessa lets out a sharp breath and scurries to her feet, turns to look at Clint with fiery red rings burning in her eyes, tiny fissures bursting through her skin. "I thought I told you to run," she says, her voice small and confused and not at all matching the powerful entity he sees before him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a wide, crooked smile creeps over his face, arms cradled tightly around the gauntlet as he stares at her with an astonished – and damn proud – expression. "That was… awesome!"

She rolls her eyes, the red steadily fading from them, and gives him a harsh shove. "Move," she demands, forcing him to turn and head back the way she came, back to what remains of the compound above this dark, dirty hole in the ground.

000

It always ends in a fight. How many times had he heard Bucky say those words? When the Howling Commandoes found themselves surrounded in the middle of the night, all hope of a decent night's rest lost, replaced by a rush of battle-fueled adrenaline. When a mere recce turned bad and they had to claw their way out, explaining in the debrief later how a fact-finding mission could end with shrapnel damage to Tony's precious jet. When he said something stupid to Tessa, pushed her buttons in the way only he ever could, and ended up angrily muttering to himself on the way to sleep on Steve's couch.

He had been right though, it seemed. It always ends in a fight.

But this time – damn it – this time, the fight's going to end in their favor. If it's the last thing Steve does, he's damn sure going to make certain of that. The end to this fight will leave Thanos dead… again. It'll leave the world whole. It'll leave Tessa whole, with Bucky by her side. When this fight is over, Ava will have her father back. Clint will have Laura and the kids. Tony can go back to his quiet home in the woods with his beautiful little family. Thor can finally forgive himself. When this fight ends, the world be better. It'll be fixed. And justice will be done.

Justice, he thinks, the word rattling around inside his head. He throws the shield again, watches as it merely bounces off of Thanos' armor. Justice. For those who died… for his best friend, who never got to see his daughter be born. For Sam and Wanda, who put everything on hold to go on the run with him, and never got the chance to reclaim their lives. For Natasha. Justice. For all those left here to suffer these last five years… for Tessa, who was never able to let go enough of her husband to build something more with him. For Clint, who lost his babies. For every single person who ever took a seat in the circle of his support groups… those who returned week after week, and those who gave up far too soon. Again, for Natasha, who spent so long watching her loved ones suffer, unable to do anything to help, that she felt the need to make up for her failure by giving up her own life.

Justice.

Ahead of him, he sees Thor drop to the ground beneath Thanos' feet. A blink and he sees the shiny axe being held in that monster's hands as he presses it into his friend's chest. He turns around to gather his shield, prepares for another – likely ineffective – toss, but he stops before chucking it, finding something on the ground before him that might just work better.

He reaches down for the giant hunk of metal, muttering to himself as his fingers wrap around the handle, "If there is any justice in any world…"

There's no need for him to strain, no need to try. The grip of the hammer fits in his hand as though it were made for him, the weight minimal and perfectly balanced. He glares at it suspiciously for a fraction of a second before raising it above his head, swinging his arm in a wide arc, and flinging the weapon easily through the air… and into Thanos' big, purple head.

"I knew it," rings out in a buoyant pronouncement, Thor's declaration, oddly, sending even more of a thrill up Steve's spine than just wielding Mjolnir had. But there's no time to be pleased about his sudden worthiness, no time to revel in the fact that he's – apparently – on par with a god when it comes to being able to toss a hammer.

There's no time for anything but bringing Thanos down.

The fight continues, a bit more interesting now that Steve and Thor can play catch with otherworldly weapons. And Tony can use all of the fancy new artillery installed in his upgraded suit to put on a rather menacing laser-light show. But even with these improvements, they're still getting their asses handed to them.

Steve struggles to move, to roll over and rise, regain his balance and his ability to fight. His body aches, lungs burn. His face sets in a snarl as Thanos looms over him, his smug words filtering down in shorn clips. "In all my years… it's never been personal… but this… I'm going to enjoy it… very, very much…"

And all at once, a spectacle comes to life behind him, the same massive army, the same alien following that they had come so close to defeating in Wakanda five years ago, stepping out of time to fight once again.

"You have no idea what personal means," he hears, an all-too-familiar voice riding over the clamor marching at the horizon. He shifts and sits upright, rolling towards her, leaning into her leg as she stands strong and tall beside him. He looks up and sees that bright blue light that has only ever been Tessa pop to life, sputtering from her fingertips. She glances down, eyes darting to the broken shield on his arm. And the hammer by his side. "Saw you found a new toy," she says with a smirk, the casualness to the comment taking him back for a moment. "You boys and your toys."

He feels a small shock at his side as her power swells, and he shuffles back, watching as the energy swirls to life all around her, tiny bolts of electricity pinging off in every direction.

"And what are you?" Thanos asks, the curious lilt to his voice causing Steve's chest to tighten with rage.

He pulls himself to his feet, tightens the strap holding his shield round his arm, and looks to the woman at his right. "She's Supernova," he says, teeth grinding together. He gives her a short nod and watches as she strides forward, raising her hands and thrusting a blue blaze of energy forward.

Thanos retreats, falling back – faltering back – as she continues to advance. But the swell of enemy behind him continues on, moving faster, making their way to them. They are sorrowfully outnumbered. Even with Tessa's power on their side, Thor's, his and Tony's, Bruce's – wherever he is – there's no way they'll be able to fight off this swarm.

His eyes remain trained on Tessa as she continues to wear Thanos down, a deep trill of excitement, of delight coursing through him despite their predicament. If they're going to go down, at least they're going to take him out with them. There's not a doubt in his mind that Tessa's desire for redemption – for justice – trumps even his. She won't let him go. As long as they can keep the horde at bay long enough for her to finish him…

Steve's about to issue that order through the coms, about to tell any Avenger able to hear to fight, when a sudden static fills his ear, a broken voice. A familiar voice. He knows that voice. Sparks flit to life around them, giant holes opening in the sky, rimmed with fire.

On your left.

And… yes, it did work. And… yes, they did return. They're here.

T'Challa is the first to step out, quickly followed by throngs of Wakandan and Jabari warriors tumbling out of the flaming portals, hurtling forward, advancing towards a fight eerily similar to the one they'd fought five years before. The one that, for too many of them, seemed like mere moments ago. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve catches a swift swoop of a shadow, and when he looks over he sees the most welcome sight ever beheld.

"Sam." It falls from his lips in a barely audible gasp, pulls from his chest in a sputtering, disbelieving breath. He laughs despite himself, smile splitting his dirty, beaten face as he watches the Falcon rise and dive, taking out several enemy at once before spinning in the sky to throw a grin his way.

There's still no time. Fuck. No time to relish the fact that it actually worked. No time to seek out those he's so desperate to see, to hear, to hold. No time to do anything but carry on the fight.

He advances along with the others, tumbling forward and into the melee. Gunfire sounds from his left as he races on and he turns his head just in time to catch a glimpse of a dark metallic arm, gold inlays shining with the reflection of flames.

Bucky.

His rifle trained, expression set.

Bucky.

Looking just the same as he had in Wakanda those five years ago.

Bucky.

Firing – pop, pop, pop! – swift controlled shots as he takes achingly slow steps forward, closer to the woman lost in her own battle with Thanos.

Steve can see that Tessa doesn't see. If she's aware of the all-out fight taking place around her, it doesn't show, all her focus – all her energy – trained on the monster before her. Fiery tendrils of blue and red sputter around her, wrapping round her limbs like an electrified webbing, highlighting her and hiding her all at once. For a moment he thinks he ought to retreat, back to her side. In part to help, not that she looks to need any at the moment. And in part to pull Bucky back, to keep him from creeping close enough for her to notice. Close enough to distract her. To keep him from breaking her focus… and breaking all that they're currently working towards.

But then he sees his friend stop, maybe six feet back from Tessa, keeping her trained in his periphery as he swivels to shoot, effectively setting up his own perimeter around her. He understands what needs to be done. And so Steve leaves them to it, forging on, hot on Thor's heels, with Sam at his back.

Tessa continues to tear at Thanos, to hold him in her powerful grasp, the red energy of the Phoenix mingling in with her own bright blue, burning away at his strength. She feels him shudder before her as he drops to one knee. She feels his energy – tickling at her fingertips – fade further and further as she pulls on each and every thread. He drops again, two knees down, and he's now at her height, kneeling before her, his grimacing face tugging in equal parts agony and anger.

And then… he's free.

Someone – or something – barrels into her, tackling her to the ground, breaking the sizzling connection between them with a horrific yelp. She drops into an exhausted heap, notices her assailant laying dead at her side, partially burst from the contact it made with her. Bucky moves forward, dropping his guard to race to her side, but before he can make it to her, she leaps up, weary eyes lighting onto Thanos and the two creatures at his side helping to lead him away.

She takes off in a flurry of awkward limbs, nearly tripping over her own feet. She thinks she feels a steadying hand at her side, a familiar touch ghosting over her, but it falls away as soon as she's up and moving, chasing the monsters once again.

Just then, something breaks through the clouds, all eyes shooting high into the sky to take in what follows. The alien ship hovering above, the same one that had been blocking out the light of day for what now felt like hours, suddenly shudders and breaks apart into fiery heaps that plummet to the earth. From above, the instigator of the explosion continues to sweep through the sky. "Carol," Tessa mutters to herself, rolling her eyes for the briefest of moments before retraining her focus on dodging the beasts in front of her as she charges after Thanos.

Her vision blurs, the ground feeling oddly wavy and soft beneath her feet. Blue sparks still sputter from her fingertips, but her hands feel numb, spent. All of her feels spent. From draining Thanos as much as she could. From blasting apart the enemy still swarming around her. From just surviving these last five years. She is utterly spent.

But still, she continues to run.

By the time she reaches him, he's in the midst of tearing Thor a new one, tossing him to the side in a lightening-encased heap. Tessa stumbles forward, Thanos seeing her and uttering an annoyed, "You," as he advances. But before the two can meet, Carol drops in, seemingly out of nowhere, and begins wailing on him in a fire-fisted fury.

She has him. As much as Tessa… dislikes the cocky powerhouse pilot, she has to admit – as she falls back onto her butt, exhaustion causing the world to close in around her – she's got skills alongside that power. She's holding him at bay, pulling at what Tessa only now realizes is the gauntlet fit upon his fist. It's a terrifying realization – How the hell did he get that? And if he has it, what happened to Clint? And… – but her brain is too tired to sputter out any other thoughts. And it seems like that might just be okay because Carol's got him.

But then… she loses him. Just like Tessa had mere minutes ago – and years before that – Carol loses her footing and hold for just a fraction of a second. And it's enough for him to break free.

The power of the infinity stones gleams around his hand, flickers and trails up his arm. Tessa pitches forward and races for him on all fours, too weak to fully rise but too determined – too petrified – to sit there and do nothing. She tackles one of his monstrous legs, holds tight as he tries to kick her off. She attempts to climb up him, reaching for the glove as she goes. But he's too strong. And she's too weak. And there's no more that she can do.

She falls to the ground, seeing a flash of movement from the corner of her eye, a familiar flash of metallic red, though soiled and charred. Tony. From behind the veil of exhaustion, she can make out Tony's form clamoring at the giant, holding tight to the glove, tugging at it with all his might.

But just like the rest of them, he too gets tossed aside.

She watches in horror as Thanos stands tall above her. Victorious. He raises his hand high, offers a smug, triumphant glare, and thrusts his fingers together. "I am inevitable."

Snap.

But… nothing.

Nothing changes. Nothing happens.

Thanos stares down at his hand, confusion flooding his face. And that's when Tessa sees it… the gauntlet remains, but no colorful stones shimmer within it. She looks to Tony, pulling herself up onto her elbows. His eyes flash to hers for just a fraction of a second. But in that too-fast look he tells her all she needs to know.

Panic swells inside her, stealing her breath and causing her pulse to rocket into a deafening woosh inside her ears. She shoves up into a seated position, dizziness nearly blinding her as she watches Tony hold his hand out, the bright red metal glove that's been part of his suit – in one iteration or another – for years held up high, gleaming in the sliver of sun peaking through the otherwise black and gray sky. "And I… am Ironman."

Snap.

For the second time in one day, an eerie shift whips through the air. Tessa feels it, just like she felt it all those years ago. She feels the energy of others begin to… fade away. She looks around in horror only to find that, this time, those turning to dust around her are the enemy. Alien warriors, interlopers… Thanos himself. They all crumble and fall, ashes to be blown away on a silent breeze not at all unlike the one that carried away her husband – her everything – five years ago.

She turns a pair of wide, gleaming eyes on Tony, locks onto his gaze, feels the sense of triumph, of joy, seep out along that connective thread. Then she watches as he blinks. And falls.

She's at his side in an instant, bent over him, peeling away the charred remnants of the glove, feeling his energy – his life force – waning as her fingers press into his flesh. "Tony," she breathes out, unsure of what to say after. "Tony," she repeats, her hands rising to cup his face, to share with him what mere words cannot impart.

He shakes his head weakly, tired brown eyes glassy as they shift to meet hers. "No," he chokes out, barely discernable amid his ragged breathing. "No."

Her lips press tightly together, teeth clench and grind as she flattens her palms on his cheeks.

"No," he repeats, voice soft but commanding. He feels something build beneath her fingertips, a sudden burning warmth pressing into his face. "No," this time, a plea.

She says nothing in return, merely closes her eyes and pulls.

From her legs, feet and shins pressed into the scorched earth, she tugs at all the energy she can find, digging deep down to the core, deep into the planet that she'd never before felt so clearly. From the air, pulling a long, deep, gasping breath into her lungs, she fills her body up with all the light and love and hope and fear from all those surrounding them. She sucks in the familiar traces emitted by Steve and Bruce and Clint, the so sorrowfully missed semblances of Peter and Sam and Wanda… and James. She gathers strength from strangers who loom on the periphery, strangers who may as well now be family after the fight they all shared. And she feels – with a sudden prick at her core – the pure power being cast off by Carol as she too steps into the circle surrounding them.

It's questionable at best, whether or not she'll have the ability to do what needs to be done, the energy to keep herself going after siphoning all that remains into him. So much had been drained over the course of the fight. So much had been used to just hold Thanos in place, let alone to try and defeat him… to do that thing that she had just – for the second time – failed to do.

But she won't fail at this. If Tony can be their hero, she can be his. It's the least he deserves. For doing what the rest of them couldn't… what she couldn't. For solving the problem of time travel and allowing them all this second chance to begin with. For bringing all of them together in the first place, years and years ago, and building this… place for them to become a family. For being her family.

So she pulls and pulls and pulls, filling herself up with every bit of energy the earth radiates into her, every bit of life breathed out by those around her. And she opens her eyes once more, Tony's pale, drawn face looking helplessly up at her, shaded in the bright blue hue and burning red now rimming her irises. Her fingers press deeper into his flesh, tiny shoots of flickering light bouncing off of her and burrowing into him. She drops her forehead down to his, their noses bumping slightly, his barely there breath too subtle on her chin. And she lets go of everything inside, thrusting it all forward… out, out, out and into him. Until her fingers turn to ice and he pulls away.