Notes: Just wanted to extend a big thank you to everyone that followed, favorited and/or reviewed part one. I didn't think I would have time to post this part today due to work, but a snowstorm blew in and they closed the office – so here we are! Please enjoy.
Search and Retrieve
Part Two
As it turns out, finding a fast ship isn't as impossible as it sounds. A few calls are made, and soon enough a ship capable of intergalactic travel is parked on the sweeping lawns of the Compound. Steve stares at it and can see Tony in its design. "He built a spaceship?" He murmurs to Rhodey in awe.
Rhodey looks at Tony's creation with dark, sober eyes. "He had some help. From what I understand, T'Challa was a part of the project. It's not so hard to believe, is it? After you see the advances made to his armor…" He trails off with a sigh.
Steve's phone chirps in his pocket, and he digs it out to look at the text. "They have a general location, as close as it's going to get." He reads it out loud, breaking Rhodey out of his thoughts.
Nodding grimly, the darker man turns towards the doors. "Then let's go get my best friend back."
"Can't Thor just transport you there?" Scott asks from a corner of the room, where he's fiddling with a piece of his own alter egos outfit.
Rocket snorts, continuing to pack a bag full of gear. "Yeah, sure – lets call him up. But, oh! Remember how the ship is adrift in space and we can't get a solid fix on it? Be real fun if we missed the damn thing and ended up floating in fucking space."
Throwing his hands up in submission, Scott replies defensively, "Well, transport the whole ship then!"
"It's too big, Scott." Bruce answers patiently, before Rocket can start in on him again. "Aside from that, Thor is off-planet looking for help and for Asgardians that might still be alive. Rocket can pilot the ship, right?"
"Of course I can! I'm one of the best pilots in the galaxy. I sure as hell can fly whatever a Terran has built." Rocket answers, "Now hurry the hell up, I have a team to find." The small creature hauls an enormous pack over his shoulders, muttering to himself as he makes his way outside.
Rhodey lingers beside Steve, who is hurriedly packing his own essentials – frustrated that he won't be able to join the rescue party, he decides not to hang around for their departure. "Just – call me when you get back." He says to Steve haltingly.
Steve turns to respond, sympathetic with the Colonel, but Rhodey has already fled the room. He looks over at Bruce, who shrugs helplessly, before handing over the bag of medical supplies he has put together.
"Better get going, I doubt Rocket will wait." The scientist says instead.
The small group gathers outside of the Compound, standing beside the ship. Rocket doesn't linger, he's already on board and starting the power up sequences for take off. Steve and Natasha are suited up and ready for the journey.
"Pepper, are you sure you don't want to go?" Steve asks for the third time inside the last half an hour. Rocket would only allow two of them to fly, stating stubbornly that the ship needed room to carry potentially over a half dozen survivors.
A hand drifts to her stomach in an unconscious gesture, and Pepper shakes her head regretfully. "We…I can't. Bring him back, Captain. After everything that's happened – you owe him that much. Please."
Straightening at the slight barb – it's the first Pepper has even alluded to Siberia since his return stateside, Steve nods grimly, "Yes ma'am." He doesn't understand the sudden flash of understanding that crosses Natasha's face as he walks past her towards the ship.
A few moments later, the assassin follows him, and the hatch closes immediately. Her face is deep in thought.
"Nat?" He questions.
The spy shakes her head. "Not my place." She answers simply, leaving him with more questions.
Steve doesn't push the subject, taking his seat beside her as the ship shudders, the engines roaring. His own thoughts turn toward what they might find once they reach their destination. Looking over at the small pile of emergency medical supplies, he frowns and hopes that it will be enough – that it will be needed at all.
"Bruce thinks the recording was almost two weeks old." He speaks out suddenly, once the noise from the engine dies down. He doesn't bother to get up and look out the windows – uncaring that this is his first (and hopefully last) ride in space.
"He told me." Natasha speaks quietly, so that Rocket can't hear them, "Stark isn't called a genius for nothing. If anybody can survive out there it's him. Have some faith."
Steve swallows, moving to scratch at the beard that's no longer there. He's unsure if he can take another loss, not after everything – after losing Sam, Vision and Wanda. Bucky calling out his name before crumbling into ash before his eyes. Not after coming to terms with the fact that Tony was likely dead, and that they wouldn't be able to make amends…that he wouldn't be able to apologize for the mistakes he has made.
He stands up, restless and tense.
Natasha moves to stand beside him. "This is going to work, Steve."
He nods absently, looking over at her with a mixture of desperate hope and resignation. "I know it is, 'cause I don't know what I'm going to do if it doesn't."
The tense mood is broken abruptly by Rocket, who hollers back to them. "Would you two idiots sit down? We're about to make the jump to light speed and I don't need a Terran with a broken damn neck before we get 15 minutes off this planet!"
"Make the jump to light speed?" Steve questions, frowning at the familiar phrasing, "Haven't I heard that before?"
From the front, they see Rockets shoulders shrug. "What? Quill always says it."
Beside Steve, Natasha laughs for the first time since The Snap.
Over the course of their journey, Steve mulls over dozens of different outcomes, each one more depressing than the last. It takes everything in him to remain positive as he gazes out into the undeniable beauty of space. He forces himself to plan a course of action instead, feeling better with several different plans in place.
They find the ship even faster than Rocket predicts.
It takes thirty-seven hours, and three tense attempts to get the two ships to dock correctly, before the two Avengers find themselves standing by the door that will lead them to Tony. Natasha shows no sign of impatience, standing still and silent as Rocket fiddles with a control panel set on the wall.
Unable to be still in the same way that the Black Widow has perfected, Steve finds himself clenching and unclenching his right fist, leaning towards Rocket to see what he's doing. Natasha shoots him a clear look, and he quickly backs away from the racoon in response.
"Alright – we should be good. If we aren't… well, it'll be a quick death at least." Rocket speaks up only a few moments later, his teeth glint in a savage grin as he slams his small fist against a large red button.
With a hiss of air, the heavy door unbolts, and Steve pulls it open. Blue eyes take in the dark ship intently as he moves with Natasha at his side. It takes everything in the soldier to not shudder at the wave of cold that ghosts over his exposed skin. Steve sets his jaw, as impatient as he is to rescue Tony and any other survivors, he still moves forward warily.
Rocket shows no such caution, racing forward, he shouts out names that Steve doesn't recognize and disappears quickly into the dark bowels of the ship.
"Air is pretty thin." Natasha comments, her lips twisting into a frown.
Were they too late?
Both think it, but neither say the words out loud. Moving faster, the two hurry after Rocket, both calling out to Tony.
Coming around the corner, they find him slumped against a wall, looking pale as death. "Stark!" Steve calls out in alarm, hurrying forward to crouch beside the unconscious man. "Christ, he's cold as ice." He curses, shrugging a bag off his shoulder and pulling out a thermal blanket.
"Be careful." Natasha warns, nodding towards Tony's left side.
Steve immediately catches sight of the wound, noting the tear in the dark shirt Tony wears, and the even darker stain that surrounds it. Gently, he wraps the blanket around him before patting his face and calling his name again.
Natasha murmurs in Russian, her delicate fingers are on Tony's wrist – counting out his pulse. "He's still with us, but his pulse is thready." She says after a moment of silence, before she turns to inspect the wound in his side. "We need to get him out of here."
Beneath her gentle hands, Tony stirs slightly.
"Stark," Natasha speaks calmly, moving so that she is directly in his line of vision. Steve moves away, letting her take the lead as he rifles through the pack of supplies. Out of the two of them, the soldier knows that he will be the least welcome sight.
"Tony, it's Natasha. We received your distress signal."
He groans, coughing as he tries to open his eyes. One of his hands flails out as he struggles back to consciousness, and Steve finds himself grabbing it out of instinct, willing some of his warmth to penetrate the chilled fingers, Tony doesn't seem to notice.
Finally, the engineer manages to squint at Natasha, his dark eyes show confusion and a certain level of devastation that the two other Avengers are all too familiar with. "…Nat?" He coughs out, shuddering when the motion undoubtedly causes pain to his side.
"Hey, you with us?" Natasha replies in greeting, allowing a small smile to touch her lips.
"How…what?"
Patiently, the spy explains again, "We got your distress call – we're here to take you back to Pepper. Steve is with me, too."
Tony blinks, trying to process the words, but it's clear that he isn't taking much in. "I lost…" His face twists in utter anguish, enough that Natasha puts a comforting hand on his cheek, her chest aching in response. He goes limp beneath her hand, his frame shudders as he whispers out, "I lost Peter." Before losing consciousness again.
"Peter?" Steve questions, moving forward at once.
Natasha looks sad as she clarifies, "Parker – also know as Spiderman. He's – he was just a kid, maybe 16 years old."
Steve thinks back to the shaky news footage, he remembers Spiderman being in the fight and going up with ship – the bright dot that was Iron Man flying up after him…
Feeling a little sick, he is about to respond when a clang echoes through the ship. The soldier shoots to his feet, standing in front of his teammates as Rocket and an unfamiliar person – alien? comes into view. "Rocket?" He asks warily, as he eyes this newcomer with trepidation. Her whole being, from her posture to the weapons holstered at her waist, screams lethal.
Rocket is morose, his ears droop and his voice is heavy, "Nebula, the Avengers, or, I mean, what's left of them."
Nebula nods, her face doesn't display a hint of emotion. From what Steve can see, one of her arms is as robotic as Bucky's, even as he looks at her, he sees wires trailing from the appendage. "Steve Rogers, this is Natasha Romanoff – what do you know about his condition?" He wastes no time in asking.
The blue alien slash robot answers promptly, her raspy voice is harsh, but Steve hears the compassion buried beneath the tone. "He was stabbed in the battle; however, he used some sort of technology that I am unfamiliar with to bind the wound. Our biggest issue has been breathable air, using some of my parts," she indicates to her arm, "we managed to make a rudimentary filter."
"When was the last time he had any food or water?" Natasha asks from the floor, where she is still inspecting the limp engineer.
"Two weeks for food, perhaps four days for water." Nebula informs her.
From her side, Rocket says hollowly, "They found Gamora's stash of hydration packs, after we got the signal. Would've been dead a week ago otherwise."
Steve feels for the smaller creature, it's clear that none of his remaining team members are aboard, which can only mean one thing. Tamping down the desire to comfort the Guardian, Steve forces the soldier in him to take charge. "Right – we need to get going. Rocket, can you and Nebula gather whatever supplies you think are necessary? Tash and I will get Tony back to the ship."
"Do it quick," Natasha speaks up, her eyes grim as she looks away from Tony.
"Does he need to go to Wakanda?" Steve asks, turning back to her as he thinks about all of the advanced medical gear the hidden city has.
The expression on her face gives him all the answer he needs.
To Be Continued.
Thanks for reading – one more part to go!
Ashley