Hello Readers! This story has been on the back-burner for quite some time, and I've already posted some chapters on AOC. But yah know what? I think it's about time I brought it to this sight too. :) Constructive criticism is welcomed!

Tony had tried. He really had.

But just like everything else in his life, he had fucked it up.

They'd lost.

The Guardians were gone. The wizard was gone. The kid…was gone.

"Poof"

Just like that. Leaving nothing behind but the dust covering his fingers.

The stab wound in his side had re-opened up a while ago. It throbbed with a burning heat every time he shifted even the slightest bit and Tony would bet a million bucks that he was bleeding internally. Of course, this didn't stop him from moving around anyway. In an ironic and cruel way, the pain kept him from breaking down completely. Sitting for hours looking at nothing, feeling nothing but the grainy texture that layered his hands was something his ever-moving mind could only do for so long before simply shutting off. He needed to move—do something—anything. To get his mind off of the reality that was beginning to bring the familiar tendrils of darkness at the corners of his vision, compress his chest in a way that the arc reactor never had. He needed to fucking breathe.

And so, he automatically went into mechanic mode. Ignoring the ache in his abdomen, the well-oiled gears began turning in his head and Tony started to do what he did best. He began to build. Salvaging as much tech from the crash as he could, blueprints poured like continuously moving rivers through Tony's mind, creating design after design for a way home.

If there was even a home to return to that is, a self-punishing voice whispered like acid in his ear.

Ruthlessly shoving the thought back, the man paused and leaned against a large part of machinery, taking a moment to ground himself in the growing pain in his side. Somehow, at some point during his excursion he had overstrained himself and aggravated the wound even more, triggering a slow but constant flow of blood to stain through his shirt and trickle down his back and stomach. The nanotech could only go so far and first aid had definitely not been its intended use.

Taking a shaky breath in, Tony shut his eyes tight as the world began to swirl around him and took a moment to simply feel. The wound hurt like a bitch. He wouldn't last another day like this, especially with the blood loss. The acid voice rose once again and sarcastically declared that it would be for the best if he lasted for less. Tony flinched but couldn't bring up the energy to argue. In fact, he agreed. This was all his fault anyway. He should have done something differently, been faster, thought smarter, been better. He didn't deserve to go on when the others hadn't survived. Why, of all people, was he allowed to still be alive when everyone else was gone? Why couldn't Tony have been taken as well? Why was he always the one left behind?

The energy seemed to quickly seep out of him at that final thought, plans and blueprints rapidly unraveling as the man weakly slid down to the ground, back against his unfinished project. The spark of the mechanic slipped away only to reveal the broken man underneath. Tony's eyes began to glaze over as the fight disappeared as quickly as it appeared, gaze wandering numbly over the just-as-shattered landscape before him. Most of it was completely destroyed during the battle, large pieces of rock and tech scattered miscellaneously around the man like an eerie piece of abstract art, made even more unnerving as Tony's vision was yet again taken over by the dark shadows at the corners of his eyes. They were growing bigger by the second. The familiar ringing began as well and the man took in a painful, unsteady breath.

Normally, he would do everything in his power to shake himself out of these episodes. However, this time, he welcomed the creeping darkness. It was like an old friend, a nightmare he embraced like a well-worn blanket, comfortable and used, helped along even faster by the growing loss of blood. It was way better than the new nightmare that surrounded him now.

What was the point of fighting it now?

There was nothing left with probably nothing to go back to. Everyone with him had kicked the bucket except for the blue chick, and she had already wandered off to god knows where, not even blessing him with so much as a glance of acknowledgement. People back home were probably in shock and mourning the loss of half of the population already. Tony didn't want to even think about whether or not Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, or any of the others had made it. He didn't know what he would do if he learned that they hadn't.

So, he sat and waited. For what, he didn't know, but he waited. Till his back became stiff against the hard metal of the machinery and his legs went numb, and the pain in his side dissipated to a worryingly soft thrum. Maybe it was for death to take what should have been taken in Afghanistan. Or maybe it was for the tears to finally come. Seeing the closest person he had ever viewed as a son disappear in his arms—after apologizing to him of all things—one would expect a person to feel the need to cry. But he couldn't. The tears just wouldn't come. All he felt was an emptiness in the pit of his stomach as the slight ringing in his ears continued on like a lullaby and the darkness crept in faster than ever.

Time passed. The light soon faded quickly into the planet's version of night. However, Tony didn't bother to move. He continued to sit where he was, out in the open, the stars looking down at him in their multitudes, forming patterns so distinctly different than those that could be seen from Earth that Tony could almost feel like he was swimming within the vast sea of the universe. It was a truly beautiful sight to behold. However, Tony couldn't truly appreciate it. All he could think of was that he'd rather be looking at soft red hair and warm green eyes.

Ah, Pepper. She had always loved the stars. He wished that she was there to see this with him. He wished he could have had more time with her. Oh, how he wished…

But there was no more time. Tony could tell. He was running out of it fast. The darkness that surrounded him now wasn't the one of cold panic from his nightmares, but one of warm peace. He didn't know when it had shifted to something different, but it was no less familiar. This wasn't the first time Tony had met death of course. He knew it like he knew fear. As much as he tried to escape from the two, they were both permanently intertwined with him. He had been the merchant of the first and the victim of the other. But it was in that moment, as Tony sat looking up at the stars, that the man was for once the victim of neither.

For in that one moment, he saw the face of the woman he loved. And for one moment, Tony felt tears form and his breath stutter, his dust covered fingers reaching out towards her phantom smile. Hallucination, delusion, gift from death itself, it didn't matter. What mattered was that it was as if a sun had been lit in a pit of darkness, brighter to him than any of the stars above. And as Tony's hand almost brushed the curve of her cheek, her image moved away playfully just beyond his reach, eyes filled with mirth.

The mans' lips curled.

That was just like his Pepper.

She was always such a tease.

And so Tony Stark let his hand fall, closing his eyes for a final time as he laid among the wreckage, alone and millions of light years away from home.

-.-.-.-

I don't want to go!

I don't want to go…

I'm sorry…

Peter gasped as he jerked awake, his eyes wide with fear.