Unrelated to this story, go give your favorite published author some good vibes or a shout-out or, best yet, a review online sometime. As a person who is once again wading into the soul-killing muck that is attempting to query an original novel, I can tell you that it is an awful process. I don't know how writing can lift me up so high and fighting through the publishing gauntlet can push me down so low, but it does. So be nice to the authors you love, because they crawled through fire to get those books to you.

Anyway.

We're inching ever closer to our climax here, and yet there's so much more that can go wrong on the way!

The song for this chapter is "In Flames" by Digital Daggers. A lot of their music has made its way onto my writing playlist over the years.

Enjoy!

Chapter 17: A Heart Full of Bullets

Like in the days right after Afghanistan, when his clothes were still speckled with Yinsen's blood, Tony now lived in a narrow world. Like a corridor that only led to one place, and the walls were knives and fire and barbed wire. There was only forward; any deviation wasn't death so much as it tore at what little control he still had over his own soul.

Everything else was deep, stormy, killing rage.

If Tony had been Bruce, the Hulk would have been cemented in the driver's seat maybe forever. Tony's very synapses fired like missiles through him. Even if he held May's hand so she could sleep, or pulled Morgan to his chest to rock her, or worked on the small repairs needed on his own and Rhodey's gear, the rage never faded. Never abated. Never so much as took a breath.

Various people did try to talk to him. Pepper, Rhodey, May, Bruce, Steve, Nat, even Bucky and Wanda approached him over the couple of days he sat in Wakanda while his son was suffering, but not one word of their compassion or hope breached the walls of his fury. They tried, and they gave up, and they waved off others who meant well with attempts to lift his spirits but who mostly made him want to throw things through their heads.

Once, just once, while he held baby Morgan and stroked her soft hair, did the fortress of his rage break down, and then he cried on his daughter until his tears soaked her hair and she woke up in protest. But only then, where no one else could see.

Every pain in his life, and there had been many, was nothing to the pain that breathed like a living demon beside him now. His father's coldness, his mother's death, Obie's betrayal, Pepper's abduction, even Peter's torment at the hands of Beck — none of it held a candle to the inferno of his pain. Tony's grief and rage and suffering could have, should have torn Thanos from the fabric of the very universe.

On the other hand, Tony intended to do that himself with his bare hands.

There was no alternative. There was no negotiation.

Thanos was going to die and Tony was going to dance on his grave.

And if Thanos had so much as given Peter a hangnail, then Tony would make sure Thanos died screaming and he would nuke the tomb when he was done.

Tony only had one source of comfort while everyone around him flailed and dealt with their own feelings and made plans: he was not alone in his rage.

Tony had never seen such wells of anger in Rhodey's eyes before, not in a lifetime of battle. Bucky regularly took himself away from others, shaking. Steve had destroyed every punching bag the Wakandans could provide in seconds. Nat barely spoke. Bruce was meditating every couple of hours and his eyes hadn't been not-green even once. Sam turned down any opportunity to talk, even to try to help someone else, grinding refusals through his teeth.

Others, those who hadn't been there, they were tense and worried and angry. But it was nothing like the raw, livid ferocity in those who had been there to witness Peter's sacrifice.

And then there was Loki.

Tony was pretty sure Loki was holding himself together only because if he lost control he would flatten the palace. The Loki who had to be king now was more similar to the Loki Tony had met in Germany. He was cutting and cold, striking out with insults every chance he got, spitting venom with every word. And Tony didn't blame the guy — he could hardly even speak to Pepper and May without his own rage spilling out.

When Tony had a moment to look outside his tunnel of fire, he thought they had better get Peter back in one piece because he honestly didn't know what would happen to Loki if they failed.

Tony didn't know what would happen to himself, either, and he didn't bother putting energy into considering it.

Because they would hunt Thanos down, hurt him until he cried the tears he'd caused, and then kill him in every painful way Tony could devise. There was no alternative.

They had been in Wakanda for...maybe two days? Time had stopped mattering. But finally they were going to do something. Thor and Loki wanted to go to some other planet to pick up weapons strong enough to fight the Infinity Stones and Thanos with them. And that? Tony was all for that.

If there was even the slightest chance he could get his hands on something to stick in that bastard's eye and brain, he was going to take it.

Which was why this whole discussion happening vaguely around him was pointless.

Tony tuned back in to hear Rhodey objecting.

"I just don't know if it's a good idea to split up again. We know how well that worked last time."

"And I don't understand what makes any of you think you are entitled to enter the realm of the dwarves," Loki shot back. "It is a courtesy to allow Stark along. The rest of you mortals can simply wait for us and make your other plans."

"It's not about having the right to enter." Steve was clearly trying to be reasonable since nobody else was. "First of all, what if Thanos comes to Earth while you're there?"

"Then we'll come back," Thor said.

"Because that worked so well last time," Pietro grumbled. "Perhaps if we had been told the battle in Asgard was going so badly we could have helped."

"Stop it!" Bruce slammed his hands on the table, and everybody froze. Tony looked up to see Bruce's shoulders ripple. Nat appeared at his elbow and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Breathe," she said softly.

Bruce took two long breaths, and maintained control. He looked up, though, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but there was more Hulk in the shape of his face than usual.

"Ever since the Chitauri, ever since the scepter, Thanos has been trying to divide us. Everything that's ever come from that asshole has made us weaker or turned us against each other. If we don't get our heads out of our asses and stop doing exactly what he wants us to do, we might as well just kill Vision and hand over both Stones now, because that's how this is going to end otherwise."

Tony found words rising in his brain. Words from Peter, from years ago, from a quieter, simpler, happier time.

"Peter once told me…"

Everyone looked at him. Tony didn't meet anyone's eyes. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't lift his hands from his mindless tinkering with his nanites.

"Something he learned from Ben. Something Muhammed Ali said. If there is no enemy within, the enemy outside can do you no harm." Tony drew in a deep breath. "Thanos has been in my head for six years. Now he's our collective nightmare. Bruce is right. If we keep fighting, then what Peter…"

His voice gave out and the rest was a barely audible croak.

"...what Peter did for us is meaningless." He swallowed. But gained strength. "And if any of you make Peter's courage meaningless, you're going to answer to me."

Sam cleared his throat. "You're both right. We have to do this together. All of us."

Tony felt a shift and glanced up in time to see Clint waggling a finger at Strange; Tony hadn't even really noticed he was here. "And if you think now is the moment to tell us that you're not part of our team, I'm going to ask Wanda to turn your shoes into inside-out frogs."

"I assure you…" Strange began.

"We know you think you're above us," Bucky said. "Frankly, I don't care what you think. But if you want to help us, stop being an ass if you're going to join our meetings. Otherwise, hang out in your little brownstone until you feel like showing up for the fight."

Tony snorted. He didn't mean to do it, and he was pretty sure it was the first time he'd laughed since Asgard.

It was like a tiny part of him was coming back to life. Tony wasn't sure he deserved that much yet. Or ever.

Not after failing Peter so horribly.

"If I may offer an opinion." T'Challa's measured voice helped with the charged atmosphere. "I believe there is merit to attempting to gather weapons which can turn the tide of the battle to come. But if they cannot be used by any of us, then there is no purpose in us attempting to claim them."

"Peter could." Vision gave a tiny shrug. "He can use Mjolnir. One assumes he may be able to use whatever you retrieve. I suspect anyone who is both enhanced enough to withstand these items and who passes their test of worth could do so. For Peter was not Spider-Man when he hefted Mjolnir, but he had been chosen and possibly even already changed by the Mind Stone."

"Then," Thor rose. "I offer you the test again. Anyone who can lift my hammer may join us on Nidavellir. The rest remain here." And he set Mjolnir on the floor in the middle of the room.

"Except me," Tony put in. "I'm going anyway."

"Yes, Stark, we are aware." But there was almost the memory of something normal in Loki's eyes.

There was a discussion happening about whether being enhanced was inherently a requirement to lift Mjolnir, or if a perfectly normal person could do it under the right circumstances. To which Nat asked which if any of the non-enhanced people in the room were actually 'normal.' Clint and Sam took that personally and went to be first to try the hammer.

T'Challa moved off to the side. "I will remain with my people to prepare for the battle to come," he offered. "We can test my worth another time."

"Ten bucks says he could lift it if he tried," Pietro said to Wanda. She just nodded.

Only a few made the attempt — Clint and Sam, Bruce, Pepper (Tony was very surprised when it didn't move for her), and Strange (Tony was less surprised that it ignored him, too). Vision walked up to it and moved as if to grasp the handle. But he stopped.

"I feel," he said, "as if perhaps it would answer my call. I can hear it, like a far off strain of music. But I think...I think it is better if I do not." And he stepped away.

"If we live through this," Sam muttered, "we're getting you to lift it."

"Stevie." That was Bucky. "Give it a try."

"I'm not worthy," Steve said, shaking his head. "Sorry."

"You sure about that?" Bucky reached out and grabbed Steve's shoulder. "I know you were messed up for a while. I know you messed up for a while. Stubborn one-track mind and your dumb hyperfixation probably didn't help you. But you're not that guy anymore. Are you?"

"What guy?" Steve asked.

Nat spoke up. "The guy who would burn the world down for one person. Because it's noble, and it's loyal, but it's also selfish." She glanced at Thor for a moment. "I think you should try it, too."

"Even if I could lift it," Steve said, starting to move towards Mjolnir, "I think I need to stay here. Prepare for the fight."

He wrapped his hand around the handle.

And Mjolnir moved. It didn't rise, but it visibly moved.

Steve huffed a laugh. "I guess that means I'm a work in progress."

"Don't feel bad," Sam said. "We all are."

"Then it is settled." Thor scooped up his hammer once more. "Stark and Loki and I will go to Nidavellir. The rest of you prepare for the battle to come."

"Well, this was an hour of my life I'm not getting back," Tony said, angry again. "So can we go already?"

The whole room shifted, as if they wanted to argue, to find a reason to delay again.

It was Steve who shook his head. "No reason to wait. Go as soon as you can and get back here in time. And Tony?"

Tony looked up and saw steel and determination in Steve's eyes.

"Whatever you pick, make sure it really can kill that bastard."

-==OOO==-

It was dark on Nidavellir. Loki felt the shame of defeat for what he had allowed to happen here nearly swamp him as soon as he took his first breath of the stale air that still bore the scent of smelting.

If Thor noticed the darkness, he did not remark upon it. Instead he began searching the immediate area — for survivors or weapons, Loki did not know. Tony was searching too, speaking to the JARVIS being to gather what intelligence he could.

Loki let them be. He regarded the realm itself.

The light of the dying star that served as the great forge which should have been pouring through every window was absent. The rings did not sing as they moved in constant orbit around it — they did not move at all. A proud realm, a proud people, the finest craftsmen in the universe, and how low had they been brought by Thanos and his evil?

And if the great forge had been destroyed, then there would be no help and no weapons to find, and that was another hope snuffed out as easily as a mortal life.

But Loki rallied himself. If he allowed himself to wallow for even an instant, he would fail again. Already he had suffered a loss he did not know how to bear. The next could be worse.

Loki lifted his head to call out in a ringing voice. "If any dwarves live, Asgard has come."

Tony suddenly began prodding at something.

"If these guys are supposed to be friends of yours," Tony said, "then what the hell is that?"

Thor and Loki both turned in the direction Tony indicated to see a mold discarded beside the forge. A mold that could only be the shape of the Infinity Gauntlet.

"No," Thor said, low and sad.

And then crashing feet only barely warned of an inbound blow. Loki dashed to the side, and Thor met the attack with Mjolnir. Beside them, Tony charged up his suit.

"Stop!" Loki shouted. "King Eitri, stop!"

"Eitri?" Thor blinked, catching another powerful strike and turning it aside. "Stop! It's us!"

Eitri looked nothing like he had on Loki's last visit. Then, the dwarven king had stood tall with pride and strength in a shining realm that almost matched Asgard for beauty and magic. Now his hair hung blood-matted and limp and he moved strangely, as if off balance.

"Thor?" Eitri reeled back. "Loki?"

"What happened here?" Thor asked. Loki wished he hadn't — he already knew.

"You...you failed us," the dwarven king said. "Asgard was supposed to protect us!"

"Yes." Loki faced him squarely. "Yes. We failed. I failed you, King Eitri."

"You entrusted us with the Reality Stone in exchange for a vow that you would take it from us should the need arise." Eitri's rage was fading rapidly into despair. "But Thanos came and you let him take everything from us."

"You've got every reason to be mad, I get that," Stark spoke into the middle of the grief and blame. "But I need to know why the hell it looks like you helped Thanos build his cute little Michael Jackson number to destroy the universe?"

"He means the glove," Thor explained.

Eitri didn't even seem to have bothered with confusion. In all the ages, Loki had never seen any dwarf look so very tired.

"Three hundred dwarves lived on this ring. When Thanos came, he gave me a choice. I thought if I did as he asked, they'd be safe."

"But they weren't," Loki realized, heartsick.

"He killed them all. All but me." The dwarven king laughed with no mirth. "Of course, my people did not want to stand by and allow him to take what I crafted, or the Stone we guarded. They fought…so bravely. But he turned upon them, and we were lost."

Loki was caught between rage and the deepest grief and regret. He had forsaken these allies, this realm under his protection, and still they had fought against an unbeatable foe.

And for it, they had all died — not gloriously, not in meaningful sacrifice, but as nothing but proof of Thanos's cruelty.

And of Loki's failure.

Eitri held out his hands and Loki felt sicker than ever to see how mangled they were. Thanos must have plunged Eitri's hands into the molten uru to cool into shapeless blocks.

"He said, 'Your life is yours, but your hands are mine alone.'"

Loki could hear what Eitri didn't say. That he wished Thanos had taken his life, too. That to die would have been a gift compared with living alone amongst the dead he had failed to protect.

Loki didn't have words for that kind of grief. He didn't even have words for his own.

But Thor, who was an idiot every minute of the day but one, did find the words Eitri needed in that moment.

"Eitri," and his voice was warm and kind as Thor had always been when he bothered, when he thought, "this isn't about your hands. Every weapon you've ever designed, every axe, hammer, sword, it's all inside your head. And that is what we need."

"I know I have failed you," Loki said. He drew kingship around himself like a mantle and willed it to hold against the riot of his feelings. "Asgard has failed you and your people. And you have no reason to trust or help us. But if you do...if you stand with us, we can kill Thanos together for all he has taken from us."

Eitri looked at the two of them. And perhaps that was life coming back into his eyes, and perhaps it was a deeper kind of despair and grief. But he nodded.

"If I can avenge my people, I am willing to try. But it is still hopeless. The forge is out. Thanos didn't only take my people. He took our very fire." Eitri looked away. "I had...I even designed..."

He turned and dug awkwardly through the debris, finally kicking two heavy molds out onto the floor.

"What are they?" Tony asked.

"The greatest weapons ever born in this forge," Eitri said. "Weapons of kings, even able to summon the Bifrost. I thought…I thought you may both need them someday. I wanted them to be ready."

"What are their names?" Thor asked, staring at the shape of an axe which was undoubtedly meant for him.

"Yours is Stormbreaker. Loki's is Wyrdbane."

Loki could not help but look longingly at the mold that held what should have been his sword. Odin had preferred a spear in battle, which Loki tended to use as well as it was easy to conjure. But this blade...this was a weapon fit to adorn tapestries and to stand engraved in stone beside a ruler. It was long and thin for the Asgardian style, but better suited to Loki's more agile way of fighting. Without the weapon being cast, Loki could not quite envision the delicate workings that would adorn the pommel and hilt. But he could feel them in his chest.

"Why Wyrdbane?" Tony asked. "Stormbreaker's obvious enough."

"Because," Eitri said, "Loki has spurned his wyrd at every turn, rewriting his destiny and that of everyone around him, for good or ill. If ever there was one who forged a path by nothing but willpower alone, it is the newest king of Asgard."

"How do we make them?" Thor wanted to know. "This may be exactly what we need to defeat Thanos."

"You'll have to relight the forge." Eitri still looked so tired, but there were embers that burned in his eyes now. "Thanos froze the rings. If you can free them, the star will do the rest."

Loki looked up and around. Even dark and still, the forge of Nidavellir was a wonder. The legends said that the first dwarves had all been true Craftsmen, that they had birthed the rings from their very souls, and that even the dying star that was their heart would never truly collapse for as long as even one dwarf stood sentinel over the forge.

King Eitri was a Craftsman, the last of his people.

But, Loki realized, not the last Craftsman.

"Tony," he said. "Thor and I can lend you strength, but we shall need your help if we are to succeed."

"Why?" Tony asked in perfect time with Thor.

"Because Tony is also a Craftsman."

Eitri stared at him. "This mortal? Truly?"

"He forged adamantite into a living being to host the Mind Stone," Loki said. "Odin and I lent our magics, of course, but the Craft was his, even with his potential entirely untrained and untapped."

"Not sure if I should be offended or not." Tony folded his arms across the glow upon his chest. "And I haven't heard a word about me getting in on the weapons of Thanos-killing yet." He looked up at Eitri as fearlessly as he did everything else. "If there's a big stick with my name on it, I want to hear about it."

"Uru is not like adamantite," Eitri said slowly. "It contains great power and potential, but uru is imbued with the primordial power of magic. It creates a symbiotic bond with its wielder, made stronger by the powers shared between them."

"Still not seeing the problem here," Tony said. "Look, I get it. I can't pick up Thor's little buddy mallet because I'm not worthy. But my kid, my son, was worthy enough to pick it up. He was worthy enough to try and protect the Mind Stone. And Thanos took him."

Loki admired Tony's ability to stand there, straining against rage and grief, and never flinching.

"So I don't care if I need to make nice with some kind of magic metal spirit. If there is any chance of me having a better way to beat Thanos into the ground, I'm here to find it."

Eitri nodded. "I believe your success or failure will be determined by how the uru responds to you. First, relight the forge and then we shall see."

-==OOO==-

Peter hadn't seen Thanos for three meals. He'd seen the Meanies in between all of them with no breaks, though. The change in the pattern was worrying. It meant something was happening.

"Don't suppose you'd tell me where Father went?" he asked, perched on the throne while Larry and Curly worked on cutting themselves out of his webs. Moe was dangling from the ceiling without a sword, so he was chewing through the webs. Which, gross.

"If he wished you to know, you would," Curly told him.

"Ugh. Fine."

Peter did a light cartwheel off the throne, sending a web to the high ceiling so he could swing and kick Larry soundly in the jaw on the way by.

The webs from the Reality Stone weren't quite like the ones he'd made so long ago. They were a little stiffer, a little thicker and stronger. And, of course, didn't have the same options as the web combinations in the shooters in the suits. No web grenades or splitter webs.

But there was one particularly strange thing about them. When Peter sent one out, he could almost feel it like an extension of himself. He couldn't necessarily control it any better, and his aim had taken two rounds of training to get back to where he liked it because they were placed ever so slightly differently on his wrists. But he could feel them as long as he was connected to them. He could feel them pull against the ceiling, or could feel them hit one of the Three Meanies in the face.

Peter thought about how spiders sat in webs and could respond to prey when they felt the vibrations of bugs touching the strands. He was pretty sure this wasn't that, but it was an easier way to think about it than worrying he had some kind of...web telepathy.

On the positive side, having webs again was wonderful. Now he could take Moe and either of the other two three fights out of five, and all three of them about one in four. Peter only now fully realized how much his style depended on the hypermobility he got from being able to swing, to say nothing of being able to disorient or subdue his opponents.

The next time Thanos sent him against the Outriders, he might not even take a scratch.

Unless Thanos changed him with the Reality Stone again first. And depending on what he changed.

Peter shivered. Even having webs again, he didn't want to let it happen another time. He couldn't imagine what Thanos would 'improve' next, but Peter didn't want it.

I lost everything else. I don't want to lose any more of my humanity.

Peter threw more webs around Moe before circling back to Curly and Larry. Curly still had a foot trapped, so Peter was able to bind him up pretty thoroughly. Larry was being a butt about getting kicked in the face, so Peter actually had to drop down and stick to him to throw him across the room before he could web the guy to the throne.

"I'm impressed."

Peter spun, surprised. His Spider-Sense hadn't registered that Thanos was here this time.

That can't be good, he thought. Remember who the bad guy is here, weird spider powers.

But Peter held his chin up. "Thank you, Father."

Thanos strode across the throne room and dropped a hand on his shoulder. "I can see the training is paying off well. You hesitate much less than you once did, and you do not hold back your strength. Soon you will be formidable enough to battle legions and emerge unharmed."

Peter shrugged.

"I have something to show you," Thanos continued. "I believe it is time for you to understand why it is necessary for you to continue to please me."

"Am I in trouble?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Thanos chuckled. "Not yet, little warrior."

Peter fell into step beside him, his heart starting to beat a little faster. But his Spider-Sense was quiet enough, so at least he didn't fear imminent danger.

And if he left the Three Meanies stuck in the webs, well, they definitely deserved it.

Down another of the endless hallways, Thanos stopped beside a door.

"Come and meet your sister."

Peter only had time to nearly pass out in panic that Thanos had somehow gotten to Morgan before the door opened to reveal someone who was definitely not Morgan.

Peter's knees almost went out from under him in relief.

A person was suspended in the air. Peter assumed this was the daughter Thanos had said was mostly cybernetic, because he could see the evidence of it — both externally on her body and in the bits that were sticking out.

This person was hanging in pieces. Like a Lego figure that had been taken partially apart. Like she had been stretched until she broke and everything was frozen in the moment in time before disaster.

"This is Nebula," Thanos said. "Nebula, this is your new brother, Peter."

Nebula's eyes moved towards Peter, and Peter could not imagine how much it had to hurt to be hanging like that.

"Nebula came here to try to kill me again." Thanos sounded so disappointed. "She has yet to learn that her continued defiance and disobedience will only ever be answered by pain."

Nebula choked to take a breath, then managed to curl her lips into a sneer. "Worth it."

Peter swallowed bile. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen so much raw hatred in anybody as he did in Nebula. And if this was what Thanos had done to her, if he had taken her and 'improved' her the way he wanted to do with Peter...would this be how he'd look one day, too?

I think either I will end up hating Thanos like that, or I'll break and...feel the opposite instead.

I've never wanted to hate anybody before.

But I never killed anybody with my bare hands, either.

Hating Thanos is a lot easier than risking…not hating him.

"My other daughter, Gamora, has escaped me for now. I had hoped to trap her on Knowhere when I took the Reality Stone from The Collector, but Loki tricked him and I was forced to make other plans."

"Is…" Peter gulped. "Is this like a trap? And she's the bait?"

Nebula surged against her invisible bonds. "Kill me, you bastard. I'd rather die anyway."

"It is nice to see you two finally getting along," Thanos commented. "No, I think Gamora is too smart to risk her own safety for someone as inconsequential as Nebula. She always was clever. Cleverer than you." He reached into whatever was holding Nebula up and tugged on an exposed part.

Nebula screamed.

Peter clapped his hands over his ears.

His Spider-Sense flared.

Peter braced himself, so he wasn't surprised when Thanos struck him. It wasn't meant to break bone, and it didn't throw him into a wall for once. But he reeled with it anyway.

"I will make her scream until she destroys her vocal processors if that's how you're going to take it, Peter," Thanos said lightly. "I expect better from you."

Peter looked away but said nothing.

"I want you to stay here with her until I return," Thanos said. "This is for your own good, little warrior. Understand that this is what awaits you if you disappoint me." His smile went cruel. "Gamora is of course my favorite. You should strive to stay well ahead of Nebula, Peter. She will hate you for it, but it would please me."

Peter mumbled, "Yes, Father."

"Do not touch her. If you touch her, I will know and you will take a turn in her place." Thanos swept out the door and it shut. This time, Peter heard the locking mechanism slide into place.

Peter looked at Nebula, and she looked back.

Peter longed to talk to Nebula, because the silence was awful. But he didn't know how. What could he say to someone being actively tortured right in front of him? Somebody who had been tortured for who knew how long?

"You must be doing something right," Nebula said suddenly. "He hasn't taken you apart yet."

"No." But Peter held up his hands. "He...he used the Reality Stone on me, though. To...to improve me."

"Ah." Nebula's face bent slightly. Peter thought on anybody else that might almost be sympathy. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah, it did."

"I'm sorry."

Peter looked up at her in surprise. "Why?"

"If I had killed him, he would not have hurt you." Nebula's black eyes stared at him. "I tried. Many times. But…"

"It's not...this isn't your fault," Peter tried to assure her. "I...I surrendered to him. To save my family. He left them alone because I went with him. I...I didn't really know what I was getting into, but it was worth it to make sure they're okay."

"They won't be," Nebula said. "When he attains all the Stones, they will still die. And you will still be trapped here. You should have taken the chance to stay with them and die together."

Peter shook his head. "No. My family...they're going to fight him. They know about the Stones. They'll...they'll find a way to beat him. I know it. I just have to hang on long enough for them to do it."

"Thanos himself taught me to fight, and I cannot defeat him. What chance does your family have?" But Peter thought her voice sounded like maybe she wanted to believe him.

He thought about his answer for a while.

"Lots of my family are really strong. Like, really strong. And we have strong friends, too, including a couple of wizards. And Loki and Thor from Asgard and their friends. And we have a Hulk."

They came to him as he thought about them. As he remembered them one by one. Who they were, what the meant to him. He thought about them, and he didn't care that tears began sliding down his cheeks. He held his head up and held his family up in his heart.

"And we have a whole planet to protect. A whole planet of families counting on us."

"Many others have had armies," Nebula said. "What can a handful of people do?"

"Anything." Peter rubbed at his nose. "When they're fighting for what they believe and for people they love? People can do anything."

"You." Nebula's face shifted a tiny bit to something Peter guessed was quizzical. "You are either an idiot or delusional."

"I'm an optimist," Peter said. He laughed even though it hurt. "I kind of have to be."

"Why?"

"Because." He swallowed. "Because if I stop having hope, then I'm going to lose myself here. And...I promised...I promised them I'd come home. And if I lose myself, then I'll break that promise."

"Did you promise that before or after you walked into Thanos's arms like a moron?" Nebula asked.

"Uh, before, I guess. Every time I went out and got into trouble. But that's not what matters." Peter straightened his shoulders and wiped at his cheeks. "I have a home to go back to. I'm not going to let Thanos keep me from getting there."

"You are a strange person and I still think you're an idiot," Nebula said. But her expression softened slightly. "But you also remind me of Gamora. It's brave to hold onto hope, even if it's stupid."

Peter shrugged. "I can't come up with an alternative that doesn't suck way more, so…"

"Tell me about your family." Nebula met his eyes and there was something new in hers. Something lonely and longing. "Tell me about the people worth hoping for."

Peter leaned against the wall, then thought better of it and made himself a quick web hammock.

"Your powers are intriguing," Nebula said when he was done. "Tell me about that, too."

So Peter did.

-==OOO==-

"You know we're probably going to die, right?" Loki asked as he moved into position beside Thor.

Thor snorted at his brother. "If we die here, we stood no chance against Thanos. Though Asgard will be without a king again."

"I expect Sif and Brunnhilde will share the duty with great success."

Thor could tell Loki was serious even as he joked. It was something he had always appreciated about his brother. All warriors could laugh in the face of danger or death. Loki had always laughed in the face of despair as well.

Working together with Tony, they had successfully released the rings of Nidavellir from Thanos's icy binding, but that was not the extent of Thanos's destruction. He had also damaged the iris that focused the power of the star, causing the shutters that controlled the inbound flow of the star's energy to slam closed.

Eitri and Tony had tried to come up with a way to wedge them in place or repair them, but there was simply no time to restore the mechanism. Out of ideas, Thor had offered to hold open the iris himself, taking the full power of the star upon his flesh.

He had been gratified down to his deepest bones when Loki scoffed at him and said, "We will share the burden, as we always should have done."

Tony had given them his armor, allowing it to spread across their bodies and their limbs like a paltry shield. It was parchment in the face of a flame, but perhaps even this small gift would help for a moment.

"If either of you die up there, I'll kill you myself," Tony said. He settled himself beside Eitri at the forge. Etri could command the uru into the molds, but he could not finish the act of forging Stormbreaker and Wyrdbane at the same time with his ruined hands.

Thor was certain Tony didn't understand what he was going to do, nor the effect it would have. Even Thor himself didn't understand — none who did not bear the gift of a Craftsman could truly conceive of it. But he could trust Tony, friend and ally and shield-brother, and he could willingly place the fate of his weapon and himself in the mortal's hands.

So Eitri would fill the molds, and Tony would call the weapons within them to life.

Assuming Thor and Loki lived long enough to claim them.

"Are you prepared?" King Eitri asked.

Thor glanced to Loki over his shoulder. They were braced together back-to-back, each prepared to use their strength to push the two shutters open. It felt fitting.

"If we die," Thor said softly, "I shall die proud to have you at my back, Loki."

"Do not die," Loki said. "And I have never willingly stood anywhere else."

Thor grinned. "Open the iris!" he called.

And the force of the star hit them.

Burning.

Fire.

Incineration.

Then silence and stillness.

Thor blinked. The pain of seared flesh was gone and instead he stood on a featureless green plain.

"Even I did not foresee this end," Odin said, appearing as if from the air itself. "But at last the moment has come. You must awaken your true power, Thor, or you will be consumed."

"My hammer is not enough. It cannot help us now," Thor said. And felt a dull ache in his chest from far away.

"Are you Thor, the god of hammers?" Odin replied, shaking his head. "The hammer was Hela's before it was yours. It was made to focus power, to channel it, to teach control. But the lightning's true source, that lies within you and you alone. And you must find it, my son."

"I...I can't." Thor dropped to a knee, suddenly wearier than he had ever been before. And he wondered if this was what it felt like to die. "I'm not strong enough. I'm not as strong as you."

"No. You are stronger. You and Loki both." Odin reached over and set a familiar hand on Thor's head. "Loki no longer lives in my shadow. Now you must seek the same freedom."

Thor felt a pulse of dizziness.

"Be Thor. Be all that you are, and let go of everything else. Break the chains of your own mind and find your true godhood waiting."

And perhaps it was the words, and perhaps it was the touch on his head, and perhaps it was the simple validation that Odin still believed in Thor after all his missteps and doubts.

A crackle began in his chest. It crawled through his veins. It burned bright in the best possible way.

And Thor opened his eyes to find himself at the center of a lightning storm.

He turned, concerned — lightning had always been his element, not at all Loki's — to see that Loki was at the center of a storm of his own. But instead of the flash and crackle of lightning, it was an inferno of raw magical fire, as blue as the Cask of Ancient Winters.

The star's force still burned past them, but it did not touch them. And now Thor's lightning and Loki's magic, both finally free and fully unleashed, flowed along with the starfire to the forge.

"Now, mortal!" Eitri yelled.

Thor could not quite see clearly through all the blinding light and power, but he could perceive Tony in motion and suddenly after an endless moment he could feel...something. A tug of a heartstring, an awareness that a part of himself was calling.

There was a snap in Thor's soul and he knew.

He stretched a hand and a golden-hued handle flew to his palm. His power erupted from him, filling up the emptiness he sensed in Stormbreaker and flowing back to him tenfold until the connection between them sang.

Thor released his hold on the iris shutter, letting it fall and cutting off the star's power, so he could turn to face Loki.

Loki was smiling with wonder, his own hand wrapped around a golden hilt still alight with blue magefire. Wyrdbane suited him as nothing else Thor could have imagined would.

"Not bad, sparkle twins."

Thor tore his gaze from Loki to look at Tony. Tony wore no armor — that which he had lent them had been disintegrated by Nidavellir's star — but in his hand was something resembling one of his arc reactors, glowing faintly with a new light.

Resembling an arc reactor, but even to Thor's unpracticed sight, it was as unlike Tony's usual creations as Stormbreaker was unlike a wooden and stone axe carved for play by a child.

"I suppose you are not empty-handed after all," Loki said.

"Apparently not." Tony closed his fingers around it and held it up. It pulsed with a power Thor could feel. "Can't wait to integrate this into a suit."

"Thank you, Eitri," Thor said. He let Stormbreaker carry him from the iris down to the main level. Loki rolled his eyes and simply jumped. "With these...we will avenge your people."

"With these," Loki said. "We will avenge the universe."

"And." Tony's expression was hard and savage and Thor could only smile at it. "We'll save Peter."