Double-drabble-and-a-half.
The time given.
The funeral was over. The Avengers were scattered throughout the house and yard in small clusters, speaking in low voices of regrets for the past or hopes for the future. Morgan was safe in Happy's care, and Pepper was standing, alone, at the edge of the lake.
Slow footsteps approached behind her, and she turned to see Doctor Strange, sober and surprisingly down-to-earth in his black suit.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing. She nodded and moved over on the pier, turning back toward the water. A gentle breeze blew ripples on the surface, lapping it gently onto the shore.
"He was a good man," Strange said finally, turning halfway towards her, voice deep with grief. "I wish there had been another way. I'm sorry."
"I know," she replied, smiling a little, turning to face him. "He told me. Of course I wish it were different, but…Doctor," she laid a hand on his arm, willing him to see her sincerity, "You gave us another chance. Five years…we could live a life. Morgan could know her father. You gave us that. I don't blame you for the ending. I just…I'm glad we had our chance. Thank you." She dropped her hand and turned away, whispering to the water, "And I meant what I said. Tony can finally rest, and we'll…we'll be alright." She swallowed.
Doctor Strange said, lowly, "He loved you. In every universe, he loved you."
"Yes." Pepper looked up into the sky, blinking back sudden tears. "He did. Three thousand."