"Nick and Maria are staying the night."

Their given names landed harshly on Clint's ears. The surnames were still more natural to him despite Nat hardly using them. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked up at Laura. She was standing in the doorway, hesitant. After the last entry Clint had rushed upstairs to throw up. Heaving like she had at the side of the road, only his stomach wasn't as empty as hers. Every time he thought he was safe to leave, another wave of nausea hit him.

Making up her mind, Laura stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. The soft click did little to jar Clint from his stupor, but her gentle perfume floated across the space between them and he found some comfort there. Glad it didn't set him off again.

"I think they want to hear more of what she wrote."

He laughed, unkindly.

"Of course they do. She was running the Avengers and gathering intel while they were gone. They probably think this is the quickest way to get back on track."

"Clint."

A disapproving note clung to her tone. She thought there was more to it than that, fair enough that was probably true. But he had this anger worming its way through his body and he needed an outlet. He needed an enemy.

Because at the moment it felt like that was him.

Almost every entry into the journal she had mentioned him. And though she chose her words carefully and never threw any anger or frustration his way, it was so obvious it was there. And it hurt.

God, it hurt so much.

He knew he was selfish to complain, that it was his own fault. But knowing he couldn't do anything to fix it, didn't do anything, and seeing it right there in front of him. In black and white. In paper and ink. It cut at him, slow stinging paper cuts right to his heart.

The not knowing what to feel didn't help any; all the grief he was trying to stifle, ignore and avoid was bubbling up and each word was a reminder that she was gone. Yet, at the same time, each word kept her alive. They were things she'd never said to him, or anyone. The idea that she had more to say when she could no longer speak. It didn't make sense.

But their lives hadn't made sense for a long time.

"Maria's spoken to Wanda. She'll go to N- umm, Nat's apartment tomorrow and check for Liho. I've said she can bring her here. The kids will like that."

Clint just nodded, not able to say anything else. Nat's words were etched into his mind. The ash scattered around the water bowl.

"Honey, what happened?"

"I was sick."

"Not what I mean and you know it."

"Laura," he started, but didn't know how to finish. So he hung his head and gestured his hands pathetically.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but you'll need to. I can hear it in her words and in your voice. It's not something you can just sweep to one side."

"I know, trust me I know. But I can't talk about it. As in," he spoke over her when she opened her mouth to protest, "I don't know how to start."

"You just speak."

"But once I've said it I can't unsay it."

By this point she was directly in front of him. He looked up into her eyes and the concern he found there was limitless. She gave him so much but he couldn't bring himself to give her this part of him. It wouldn't be fair to ask her to stand by his side and share his burden. So, he made do with reaching out to her waist, holding her gently, and resting his forehead against her stomach. One hand rested lightly on his shoulder, the other brushed through his hair.

"Just like you can't undo something already done. Whether or not you tell us about it doesn't change that, Clint. But it is important who we hear it from."

They let the silence settle between them as the words rattled around Clint's head. Each holding their position as one sought comfort and the other gave. In the end he decided it was a question to be answered another day.

"Where are they sleeping?" Clint said, only now truly registering Laura's earlier words.

"Maria's taken the guest room, Nick's on the sofa," she stepped back and a ghost of a smile tugged at her lips as she bent down to kiss his forehead, "don't worry, they didn't like the idea of using Nat's room any more than you."

Nat only had that apartment in New York for the sake of having somewhere to escape to when the superhero egos became too much. She didn't personalise it and stocked it with enough for a short stay, though the security around it was spectacular and there were probably enough weapons stashed around the place to arm a small militia. Like she said, it wasn't her home.

Her home was here, with the family. And her room was her safe haven. The one place in the whole world where she could drop the Black Widow persona completely, and be just herself for once.

There were a few times after his breakout from the Raft that he'd seriously considered building another house on their property. They had the land to spare and he couldn't think of a better way to use it than give his best friend a home all her own. When he finally voiced the thought to Laura she just smiled and hugged him.

They decided to start on it as soon as the ankle monitor was off. There were even some blueprints somewhere.

And then the shit hit the fan.

Clint sighed. What was the point in thinking about all of that? 'What ifs' were a waste of time, he needed to deal with the 'what happeneds'.

"You sure Wanda's happy to bring Liho?" He stood to get ready for bed, Laura was already heading to the en suite.

"I didn't speak to her, but Maria said it sounded like she was glad to have something to do. Poor girl."

She stopped talking for a couple of minutes as she brushed her teeth, giving Clint enough time to settle into his pillows and pull himself together.

"A trip out here might be what she needs," Laura continued as she came out of the bathroom, donned her pyjamas and slipped under the covers. "Did you know she's staying round Steve's?"

He did not.

Steve was a good man. Clint knew that. He'd witnessed it firsthand whenever he'd worked with the guy. A little uptight but that was all part of the fun when it came to teasing him. His speeches, though softly spoken, were full of passion, the slow burn kind. The simmering embers that kept you comfortable but still branded you when you get too close.

The man's mere presence infused the air with the image of victory. Making their win seem the only logical conclusion. Yet he stayed humble, tried to avoid the fight where he could and never asked people to do something he wasn't willing to do himself. He led, but he was a reluctant leader and that is probably what made him uniquely qualified for the job.

And if Clint never experienced any of that, if he'd sat out of all their missions, he'd know all of this anyway simply from the way Nat wrote about him. The care she took to preserve his words, the rage she felt for him at the turn his life took. Running to him when she had no idea what she needed.

Clint didn't have much time to understand what he was feeling at that last thought before he was interrupted.

"Honey."

He turned to look at Laura, who had a serious glint in her eye.

"I'll let you off now, but we really do need to talk about it."

He nodded.

For the first time since he came back from the battle, Clint cried himself to sleep in her arms and didn't dream of Vormir.

"Do we have to?"

Clint heard Lila's voice as he came down the stairs. Was she moaning about something? Yes she was. Would he ever get tired of hearing her voice? No he wouldn't.

"Yes. Just because we have those journals doesn't mean you get to pause everything," Laura said, her voice measured.

"We'll help," Hill said.

"Help with what?" Clint announced himself by ruffling his eldest's hair and giving Lila a light squeeze on the shoulder.

"Chores," they both pouted.

"Oh no you don't have to do that," Laura said, looking to her husband for support, "you're guests."

"Uh no," he shook his head, "they do have to do that. Years of taking orders from them. Years. And the tables have finally turned."

"Careful Barton, don't let the power go to your head. We know a lot of dangerous people."

"Yeah, like me," he winked at the former deputy-commander.

Breakfast passed by quickly, it wasn't as uncomfortable as dinner the day before and no one mentioned the journals again. Afterwards, Laura and the kids stayed in the house, splitting the chores list between them, while Clint ended up cleaning out the chickens with his guests.

Well, it was supposed to be just him while the agents fixed up some of the fencing around the vegetable garden. But when he went to pick up the eggs the little buggers pecked at him until he cursed and called them names. And while he didn't want to believe in super sentient chickens of evil, he had to seriously consider the possibility when his former bosses walked past to find him huddled in the corner fending off the sharp beaks.

"Told you not to let the power go to your head."

"Yeah, but you said you knew dangerous people. Not crazy-ass chickens - ow!" He popped a finger in his mouth as the latest attack drew blood. He looked around before whispering dramatically, "it's like they understand me."

"You know, it's at times like this," Fury said, looking down on the archer, "that I seriously question what I was thinking when I offered you a place at SHIELD."

Hill snorted.

"The comic relief, I think, sir."

Both agents smiled as they helped Clint up and shooed the chickens away, taking advantage of the flurry and flutter to grab the eggs. Then it was a bit of improv to get the food out and clean up the bird mess. A childish delight shot through him when he saw Hill suffer the same stinging pecks he did.

"Not that I don't appreciate having more grownups to talk to, but how come you guys are still here? Don't you have some super shadowy plans to hatch? Or are freshly laid chicken eggs part of that?"

Living in the world of deflection meant there was usually a quick answer on the tips of their tongues for such a direct question. So Clint was surprised when he didn't get a reply straight away. He looked up in time to see a silent conversation ending between the two.

"Well, between the three of us," Fury said, looking at the chickens suspiciously, "no clue what you mean by 'shadowy plans'. But we will be leaving for an extended period in the near future. Any affairs we need to sort can be done from here."

"Wow, I think that's the most you've ever shared with me, Nick. I'm touched. Truly."

Fury narrowed his eye at the archer. "Don't call me Nick."

"You let Nat."

"She doesn't get herself cornered by a bunch of flightless birds."

The group stood with plastered smiles falling from their faces. His uncharacteristic slip of the tongue hanging in the air between them as each registered the mistake.

Didn't.

One brave chicken took the opportunity to peck at Maria again

"Ahh, motherf-"

"Language."

All three of them looked round to find Wanda stood the other side of the enclosure, cat carrier in hand. And behind her was the looming figure of Steve Rogers.

The smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes. But the attempt was appreciated.

"All these years and you still have a problem with swearing," Fury said.

"Oh no, he doesn't have a problem. He's been swearing across time and space," Clint abandoned the chicken wrangling and strode over to the two new guests, struggling over the fencing. He enveloped Wanda. "How you doing, kid?"

"As you'd expect. You?"

"I've never been good at living up to expectation, so probably below average," he shrugged before looking at the captain and pulling him into a hug.

"I believe your better half is calling us in, Barton," Fury said as he patted Steve on the shoulder, "we'll see you in there."

As Fury and Hill walked away, Liho shifted in her carrier. Nose peeking through the gaps. Clint reached to comfort her but was greeted by a hiss and an attempted swipe.

"You know, I am so sick of all these savage animals. Someone bring me a dog."

"What are those two doing here?" Steve asked as they headed towards the house.

"Brought us some things from the compound. Where are Sam and Bucky?"

"Buck wanted to do what he could to help T'challa and Shuri in Wakanda, after everything they did for him. Sam didn't think it was a good idea for him to be left alone."

"Any word on the others?"

"Rhodey's looking after Pepper and Morgan, Thor's in New Asgard but I think he's going to head off with Nebula, Rocket and those Guardian guys soon. And Bruce, well, Bruce is trying to rebuild To- rebuild the machine."

Clint nodded. Everyone was sort of just, hanging. Five years of looking utter desolation in the face and it was difficult to know what to do when it was replaced with joy. Their biggest wish was fulfilled and all that anger and sadness had no place anymore because the greatest loss any of them had ever faced was reversed and what do you do with yourself after that?

Well, it looked like the Avengers did exactly what they did after the first Snap. They distracted themselves.

Apparently Clint spent so long with the chickens everyone else had not only finished their chores but Laura had finished making lunch. Wanda put Liho's carrier in the living room and unlatched the opening, before heading back into the kitchen to fill up the water bowl and set some cat food down. Liho ignored everything to begin with, probably just to remind everyone she was a cat.

Nate made Wanda sit next to him, he really loved that he was named for her brother. Cooper tried to talk to Steve, but their hearts just weren't in it. Lila ignored everyone, her person wasn't there.

"Daddy," Nate whined after he'd successfully landed more of his food over his face and clothes than in his actual mouth.

"Buddy, you've really got to learn how to eat," Cooper muttered under his breath.

"Yes Nate?"

"Are you going to read more of those stories today?"

Everyone tensed, not really sure if the journals should be mentioned. Wanda flinched when she felt the atmosphere change, almost tangible. Still, she tried to break the tension.

"Err, what stories are you reading? Because I know Harry Potter isn't going to get that kind of reaction."

No one seemed willing to say. In the cold harsh light of day it seemed like such an invasion of privacy there was shame in admitting to it. Fury took one for the team.

"Lang found some of Romanoff's belongings," Steve flinched at the name, "they included journals she kept."

"Hang on," Steve held up a hand before scraping his chair back and standing, "are you reading through her private-"

"Oh stand down, Captain Righteous. As crass as it sounds, privacy is only for the living."

"Yeah," Lila piped up for the first time that afternoon, "and it makes me feel like she's still here."

The soldier was still clearly struggling with the idea of nosing through Nat's belongings, though there was a flash of understanding in his eyes as Lila spoke. He might be a boy scout but he wasn't above temptation.

"You know Nat would do the same if it was any of us," Hill pointed out and Steve almost smiled.

"I guess you're right."

So, when Clint opened the book once again, the cheery persona he'd tried to put on all morning trembling at what was to come, he had two new people in his audience.

"I should probably warn you. It's not exactly happy."

15 May 2018

Yo, Tom,

I seriously don't know why I keep writing in you. Not that I have anything better to do. Just watch the numbers and hope they start ticking down.

I suppose you're a good way to avoid sleep. Whenever I do manage to get a few winks, there's always a nightmare. Always full of ash and dust. Sometimes I'm the only person left.

That's the worst.

But I don't have to deal with it often. Since the Snap I've probably had a grand total of eight hours sleep. Steve and Banner look like they're working on less. I imagine Rhodey's struggling as well. He's taking Sam's loss really hard. Can't really tell though, he's only been back the once since Danvers left.

I wish you were a good way to avoid thinking as well. But then I guess what would be the point of you if that were true. Every time I write something down there's a lot of thinking that happens afterwards.

Which is why I'm here, I guess. I might not want to, but I need to think. For Pepper.

Oh, by the way, she's pregnant.

She ambushed me at the compound. Like Steve, she found me in the gym. Like Steve, I didn't hear her come in. Though this time it was because I had music blaring loud enough to blow my eardrums to bits.

It helps with the thinking you cause.

As in, makes it stop.

She sort of just collapsed in my arms and I had to drag her over to the bench where Steve patched up my hands. Tears streamed down her face and she tried to speak but none of the noises made any sense.

I just gave her my shoulder and she cried on it for close to an hour. She tried again once she was calmed down enough.

"I just really need to tell someone. Someone else, Rhodey knows but he's not here and I needed someone who's a friend, who knows us both. Please."

I'm not going to lie, that took me by surprise. We didn't exactly get on when I was undercover at Stark Industries and I always got a sense that she never more than tolerated me whenever we found ourselves in each other's company. I'd always admired her. It takes a certain kind of person to survive in the testosterone filled world Pepper inhabited, but she didn't just survive, she thrived. In a landscape of backroom deals and corporate sabotage she shone as the strong-willed yet level-headed CEO of the most influential company of the twenty-first century. And she did it all without playing dirty. Now, add the hyperactive man-child that was Tony Stark to the mix and it turns that 'certain kind of person' into an actual living saint.

For her to call someone like me a friend, well that took my emotional stew off the backburner and threatened to bring it to boil.

A lot of things do that lately.

It's annoying.

"You helped him to save himself when we first met and I have no doubt you'll find a way to save him again. And I don't want to add this pressure, but I need to tell him and I can't-"

The tears started haemorrhaging again.

"Hey, let me go find someone for you. Steve, maybe-"

"No!" She was stern, panicked, "I came looking for you. Nat, I need you to find Tony. Please find him. I need to tell him I'm pregnant."

Well shit.

What the fuck do you say to that?

"Please find him," she kept repeating it like some sort of mantra and before I could stop myself, the truth came exploding out. I don't know, people keep sneaking up on me and now I'm spilling the truth without much coaxing. What a sorry excuse for a spy.

"There's something. But I don't want to get your hopes up, that's why we haven't told you."

The look in her eyes almost killed me. That would be typical. Natasha Romanoff, survived Thanos' snap, died by Pepper's glare.

"We found a signal, really far out into the galaxy, that matches his AI. We think it's him, but we don't know for sure. And if it is, we don't know what the situation is."

She just nodded, bringing herself back together. I could almost see the tears rewinding back into her eyes.

"There's a chance?"

I nodded.

"Thank you Nat," she gathered me into a hug and I patted her awkwardly on the back, "thank you for telling me."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"I understand."

She's asleep on the sofa now. Said she's staying here until we hear something about Tony.

A mixed blessing if I'm honest. At least I can keep an eye on her. But she's somehow managed to get it into her head that practising her mothering skills on me is a good idea. Right now I'm supposed to be asleep and I'm genuinely wondering if she'll try to ground me if she finds I'm awake.

Earlier she was trying to make me eat.

Honestly beginning to understand where Nate's coming from. I've just had one day of someone trying to get me to eat something I don't want and I already want to throw my food everywhere.

Still, a distraction is a distraction. The change of pace was nice and the day went quicker.

But now, as I'm writing, everything's coming back. I see the chaos of the city, smell the decay on the air. Hear the crying of children sleeping on the streets, both parents floating in the air. And I just keep thinking. If it was Clint and Laura snapped away and they were left behind, what would have happened to Cooper and Lila and Nate?

There's still no sign of Clint. He might as well have been snapped.

16 May 2018

Hi Tom,

My life is nothing but screens. Blue tinged screens glowing in the dark or shining in the day. On them were faces, some I knew, most I didn't. And when they weren't there they were names.

They used to be people, now they were nothing but code.

It wasn't right. They were so full of life. It felt impossible that they could be wiped away so completely. As much as I might wish otherwise, the screens don't lie. These people were gone. Along with half the animals.

When I could stare at them no longer I switched to the CCTV of the city, well of many cities really, watched over the streets and witnessed the lows people were forced to. No one was looking out for them. Their homes, their city, their country was in a state of disrepair and no one was doing a damn thing about it because they wanted to make sure it was profitable first.

Whenever someone looked straight at the camera I saw the hopelessness there, taking deep root in their soul. The same demon knocking at the doors of the compound, the one whose tendrils were wrapping tightly around Thor, consuming him.

The past and the present was where I spent my days, flicking between the two as if there was anything I could do to change them. There was no time for the future. A future where this was the norm, where this setback became history because we ignored it.

It just couldn't get to that.

We couldn't live in a world where we didn't stare our past in the face and flip it the finger. Where we ignored it and let the devastation rule our lives. It needed to be cleared. People needed to be looked after and they needed a way to live their lives as it was now. Despite how adamant I was it would only be temporary.

Only, where do you start?

Scott's picture pops up often, as does his ex-wife's and her new husband's. I'm sure they had a daughter. I hadn't seen her photo as part of the list. Who was looking after her now? Parker's aunt was gone. Bruce said he was with Tony, if the kid survived his ordeal in space where would he go?

I just can't stop thinking about it. About any of it.

I don't know.

17 May 2018

So, I started spouting off about this in front of Steve and Pepper earlier. I don't know why, I just couldn't hold it back anymore. The silence is just always there like another person, always quiet but breathing heavily down our necks. I've never really minded it that much, but it's just so sinister now.

And d'you know what, Tom? I think I may have started something. I don't know if anything will come of it but it seems to have breathed some life into my housemates, and that has to be worth something, right? Oh, I don't know why I'm asking you. If you start answering back I'm throwing you into the nearest furnace.

But yes, it is worth something. I think. It's a distraction, sure, but it's a hopeful one. And even the smallest spark of hope is worth entertaining in this new, hopeless world we've spent the last few weeks gliding through.

I haven't seen Steve this alive since before Wakanda, hell since even before the split. It's nice. And Pepper, she looks so much more positive talking about a project, no matter how pie in the sky it is. For these moments she isn't someone worrying about the person she loves, she's the Pepper of old, determined to pass this test. So I kept it going, I kept fuelling the fire until Bruce joined us, wondering what the chatter was all about. Thor came in too and though he didn't offer much I could tell he appreciated the distraction. For the first time since falling into his pit of overwhelming grief he was willingly clinging onto a lifeline. Even Rocket checked in and though he brought only his usual brand of pessimism it was just for effect. And Rhodey figured he was better off joining us rather than forcing us into the meeting he was sent here to hold.

We all bounced ideas off of each other and for a while, for one small but exceptional moment it was like the best days of the Avengers. Holed up in the tower with Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor and Clint and just talking random shit. Going round and round in circles until our questions and ideas grew so obscure even Thor couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Except this time there was nothing obscure about it. This time we focused on the people around us and their very real problems. The cities in ruins and the governments in disgrace. We listed everything we could think of and proposed any solutions that came to mind. And it was amazing how small minded we all really were as individuals but when we came together as a group how farsighted we could be. After all, the homelessness that applied to the kids I spotted in the city also applied to what was left of the Asgardians-

Hang on...

18 May 2018

Well.

Tony's back.

He looks awful. Next to death. So thin. Bruce said he's malnourished, dehydrated, fighting the remnants of an infection. Tony was muttering something about being stabbed and Thanos throwing a moon at him.

This is Tony, who knows if he's serious. But then, it's also the same psychotic alien who called the ground up to bury me alive with nothing but a flick of the wrist. Watching him act like he's okay, like he's not sitting on the threshold of death's door, it just brings it all home. Somehow throws the events of three weeks ago into even sharper relief. He was strong, sharp-witted and unbreakable. The wit was still there, he pretended to be strong. But nothing could cover up how broken he was. And not just physically.

Mentally.

He's tapped out, given up. I can't blame him. After what he's been through, anyone would. And Thor was just watching him, taking it all in, finding another thing to blame himself for. But this one's on me. It's all on me. The Accords, all those years ago. If I could have kept them together, made them see sense. Made them see each other for what they really were and not for the masks they put on. Then maybe things would be different.

Maybe Tony would be whole.

He got into it with Steve, the resentment from a couple of years ago still there. Even though I knew the note from Tony was just for me, I had hoped some of the ill will between them dissipated.

No such luck.

The look on Steve's face broke my heart. He didn't blame Tony for the things he said. No, he accepted them as truth and stored them away in that little box of insecurities he hid deep. Those words would haunt Steve, I could feel it. The damage might look shallow now, but in years to come every time Steve doubted himself, those same words would come out and cut just a little a bit deeper until they were crippling. Just as Steve's lie by omission had wounded Tony.

When Tony collapsed Steve was out of his mind with worry as Bruce ushered him towards the infirmary.

Danvers tried to rush off and go after Thanos without us. We reigned her in and spent the night making plans. This woman, Nebula, came with Tony on the ship. Turns out she's one of Thanos' daughters and wants to see him dead. He killed her sister, Gamora.

I can get on board with hunting the fucker down.

So, I'm heading into space soon.

I've sent Clint a text with the cliff notes - he used to call them 'Clint notes' because that's the type of moron he is - of what's going on. I doubt he'll reply. I hope we find what we're looking for. This growing gulf between us is killing me.

We've always had this ritual before we head out on a mission together. It started out as a way for us to get to know each other, back when I first started with SHIELD. I sure as hell didn't trust him, certain there was something sinister behind all the kindness he was showing me. He probably didn't trust me all that much either.

We shared a cup of hot chocolate and a truth about ourselves we hadn't told each other before. He told me he was my friend. I said I wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice him for the sake of the mission.

He's not here, so I'll share with you instead. I might not be able to stomach the hot chocolate right now, but I can manage the truth. You're the only one I can admit this to.

I'm scared.

19 May 2018

Hi Tom,

Our space trip is delayed a little. Rocket's ship needs fixing. He keeps moaning about how Tony and Nebula stripped it bare. Not like they really had a choice.

I think he found a few suitable supplies to patch it back up. I don't mind, it gives Clint more time to turn up out of the blue.

There's no way he'd want to miss a chance to head into the stars, but I can't really put off our chance to save everyone for the sake of one man's childhood daydreams.

Maybe he'll get another chance one day. You know, if he doesn't show.

20 May 2018

Hi Tom,

I headed down to the dock for a final moment of peace. Who knows when there'll be another chance. It was already occupied. Rocket was there with Nebula, their heads were hung as words passed between them. I didn't try to stay silent.

Rocket turned when he heard a footstep and beckoned me over when he saw who it was. Nebula stiffened. Guess she wasn't a fan of people.

"I don't want to interrupt," I said.

"We needed?" Rocket grunted.

"No. Maybe. I haven't seen anyone. I just-" I waved towards the view as words failed.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it Goldilocks."

He scooted over a bit but rather than take a seat with them I decided to lay at the edge of the dock, look up at the darkening sky, and skim my hand over the water. I'm not sure why, but it was rejuvenating. It made things feel possible.

Rocket finished his work on the ship early this morning, Danvers was doing a few last minute checks to make sure everything was hunky-dory before we headed out.

I felt Nebula's eyes as she watched my actions. There was a stiffness to her movements and an intensity to her scrutiny. It didn't bother me that she was a daughter of Thanos. You can't help the people who raise you.

It was her mistrust. She was willing to throw her lot in with us because we provided some firepower against her father, but once that mission was complete would she turn on us? According to Rocket her loyalties were questionable. But who am I to judge. People in glass houses and all that.

"I'm sorry about your sister."

She jerked her head to one side, staring at me with those black eyes. It felt like she could see everything.

"I do not want sympathy."

"Okay then, I'm not sorry." I shrugged my shoulders against the ground and looked away. Rocket snickered before I heard him murmur:

"Told you."

I didn't bother to question him, I didn't really care to know.

"I would prefer revenge. Sympathy is useless. It's what got her killed in the first place."

"Wanna elaborate on that?" Rocket said.

"I do not know how my father found her. But he brought her to his ship where he was holding me captive. I hadn't seen her since Ego."

"You mean when you guys pretty much tore a ship apart and threw it at each other? Now that was a waste of parts."

"Strong sisterly love, then?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"We...worked through some things. He brought her to see me. Ebony Maw had... disassembled me and was searching my memories. They used me to get Gamora to reveal the location of the Soul Stone. She begged him to keep me alive, and he did. But she is dead. I would like to avenge her. Is that not what you do?"

"It's not something we've done well for a long time."

She was blunt, matter-of-fact and truthful. I liked that, it was an injection of something we needed. Plus, she was icy while Rocket was fiery, it was nice to have someone to balance him out.

"What about the others?" I asked, "the Guardians."

"All gone," Rocket said, "met your man on Titan. Turned to dust all around him. Might not have got to that point if our idiot of a captain hadn't punched the purple-headed douche-bag when everyone else was pretty much millimetres away from getting the gauntlet."

"Why'd he do that?"

"He loved her. He keeps losing people he loves. Irresponsible, really," the racoon sighed as he spoke the words, "I never really cared about them being together but if I had any idea it'd cost us half the universe I woulda done more to keep them apart. She coulda done better than a loser Terran anyway."

"Hey!"

"Relax, Blondie. You're alright. Much better than most Terrans."

We spent the next half hour talking about our missing team members. It wasn't easy, but it felt like it was necessary. Their Mantis sounded so much like our Wanda it started to hurt whenever I heard her name. Manipulated, put down all the time, stronger than she thinks.

It only came to a stop when footsteps reached out to us in the dusk. Nebula and Rocket turned to see who was coming and I pulled myself into a sitting position to see Steve make his way towards us, clutching a duffel bag. He gave a polite smile when he realised six pairs of eyes had landed on him.

"Sorry to break up the party," he said as he came round the bench to stand over me.

"I don't see how this is a party."

He smiled something more genuine at the reminder of what felt like a different lifetime. Then he dumped the bag next to me. I unzipped it to find my uniform and batons.

"Danvers has finished inspecting Rocket's handiwork. Time to head out. Better get ready."

I didn't answer him as I traced the suit, lost in thought. Lost in memories that I wished were as fragile as the ash they were full of.

"Nat."

"Hmm?"

"What's up?"

"Oh, just, you know. The last time I wore this - we lost."

"Don't tell me the infamous Black Widow is getting superstitious."

I threw the suit back in the bag before standing up.

"I'm not saying I am, but if something goes wrong today I'm throwing it away."

"Or you could give it to me, if you're not using it. I'm just saying, don't want it to be a waste."

"Not sure it's your style, fur face."

"I was thinking more about the electro-sticks you got there. I could get something good with those."

Steve wasn't listening, he was looking up at the emerging stars. Deep in thought. It was weird to see him without the beard. I'd forgotten how easy he was to read when he wasn't covered by the facial hair.

"What's up?" I threw his earlier question back at him.

"I'm just a kid from Brooklyn," he sighed, "a sick kid from Brooklyn. I never imagined travelling to the moon was possible. But we're just about to go way beyond that. Even after everything, it takes a while to get my head around some things."

I gently rested my shoulder against his arm. I might not be able to relate specifically to his words but I could still understand the sentiment. There was never any inkling that life would end up this way for either of us. And it was insane.

"Careful, Steve, you're gonna make us sound like such tourists."

22 May 2018

The stones...

He destroyed them.

We've failed.

Again.

A/N: A bit of a long one but I hope you enjoyed! I honestly didn't expect the reaction I've had to this story and just want to say thank you to everyone who is reading it. Like I said back when I first started, I have an idea of how I want it to end, but the journey between here and there is vague, so it's one we'll go through together. Though this chapter was pretty firmly in my head from the start, a few relationships have cropped up that I didn't even consider at the start but I think will end up being a joy to write - as much as it can be a joy in the context of what's happening.

And thank you once again for your kind words, I hope you continue to enjoy the story :)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Marvel or anything else you might recognise.