imaginatus | endgame open post

endgame open post

stark

aequitatis

pottspepper

starklegacy for au time hopping shenanigans ~~because of course she would. and of course i would.~~

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[ Steve refuses to believe that Tony and Peter are gone — that his family is gone — not until he sees proof. God. He can't. Not until he's had a chance to apologize.

Which is why, when Carol says she'll look for them, Steve just nods. Of course she would, because of course there's someone to look for.

But it isn't until he first lays eyes on Tony, however, that all the guilt and regret in Steve's chest is momentarily washed away. Relief is followed by gratitude, followed by love, until— ]

I lost the boy.

[ Hearing it from Tony's lips makes Steve feel like someone's grabbed hold of his windpipe and started squeezing. His eyebrows scrunch and they quiver once as Steve's see's the thin coat of tears in Tony's eyes. ]

I couldn't stop him.

[ It's not your fault, Tony. ] I couldn't either.

[ Only a second passes before Steve pulls him in for a hug, his hands swiftly supporting Tony's back to secure them together just like he used to. But instead of feeling the familiar shape of Tony's body, he's shocked by how small Tony feels in his arms. It makes Steve pull him in tighter.

For a moment, Steve just wants to cry. There's too much bottled up inside him and it's all threatening to come pouring out. But for just a while longer, he tells himself, he needs to keep it together. ]

C'mon. [ He whispers, against Tony's temple. ] Let's get you inside.

[ For 22 days, Tony has been agonizing about what happened on Titan. When the infection threatened to do him in, it was almost a welcome distraction because it kept the memories at bay. At first, anyway; when the fever began, he started hallucinating Peter. Steve. He kept losing them, over and over. He’d see Steve, blaming him for their son’s death. How could you take him with you? He was your responsibility. How could you? Nebula never mentioned his cries, or the way he’d wake up screaming; she just hold him down until the worst of it passed and Tony calmed enough to sleep again.

Now the worst of the infection has passed, but the pain hasn’t. The physical one is nothing compared to the anguish he feels - the failure, the guilt - and while being rescued should fill him with relief, he finds himself almost resisting to it. No, he doesn’t deserve to live. He deserves to stay there, in space, and die where his son died. Not on earth. Earth holds nothing for him anymore.

He finds himself being wrong yet again, though, when the doors open and he sees Steve running to him. Nebula glances over at him, as if silently asking him if he’s okay, especially at the way she has to tighten her hold on him since his knees feel like they buckle at the sight of the man he has missed for years now, but Tony just nods faintly back. It’s not okay - he is not okay, but he’d be lying if he’s not relieved to see him. He’s alive, he thinks as he prays to a god he doesn’t even believe in that this isn’t another hallucination. That Steve is really okay, and here.

The guilt that follows is crushing, though, and Tony almost stumbles again as he admits his defeat. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he wants to say, but when he opens his mouth again he can’t speak, but thankfully Steve takes him into his arms instead. He doesn’t deserve this, he thinks as he tries to hug him back, his now frail frame getting lost in Steve’s embrace, and for a moment he feels his eyes fill with tears as the guilt is mixed with relief. He’s here. He hadn’t been dusted, too.

With Steve’s help, they make it back to the compound, the rest of what he assumes remains of the team following close by. Bruce ushers them to the medical bay the moment they cross the doors, talking about fluids and IV lines, and while Tony tries to resist at first - he doesn’t want to lay down, he doesn’t want to be even more useless than he already feels - but one glance at Steve and those damn blue eyes of his, and Tony reluctantly agrees. They help him take off the jacket he’s wearing, and without even glancing at them he can feel the way Bruce glances at Steve when they see how awful he truly looks. After all, almost dying of a stab wound, an infection from said stab wound, and not having food or water for days has taken its toll on him. ]

...if it helps, I actually looked worse a few days ago. [ Felt it, at least.

He shivers slightly as the IV line is injected and the fluids start running through his veins. ]

How bad has it been here?

[ When Steve glances from Tony's shrunken muscles to Bruce, there's only one thing he wants to know: is Tony going to okay?. Bruce nods, even without Steve saying anything, but he adds a caveat, half-whispering, half-mouthing it to Steve just so he knows: It's going to take time.

But the burns of battle are still fresh. Their wounds are still wide open. He knows already that Tony isn't going to want to spend time in recovery and Steve isn't sure he'd blame him.

Peter. The family they'd built, here, in this very compound. 50% of all creatures on Earth. All gone. Neither of them are going to accept that there's nothing left to do.

Tony speaks though and Steve can't help but immediately look back down. ]

I have a hard time imagining that. [ He says, before slipping one of Tony's hands into his own, before Bruce pushes the IV in. Steve gives it a squeeze, part distraction, part re-assurance. When he hears that question, Steve glances at the others before he answers, but he knows he isn't going to try and hide anything. ]

50 percent of all living creatures. Gone. [ He lets the confirmation of that sink in before he continues. ] There were accidents everywhere, but they stopped after two or three days. Governments across the world are trying to rebuild.

[ In his peripheral version, Steve catches Bruce signaling. When he looks up, Bruce says this loud enough for everyone to hear: Hey, Steve, I know we just got him back, but we gotta let him rest. He nods. It's probably Bruce's way of saying something in that IV will knock Tony out soon. ]

I'll be right here, you hear me? [ He pulls a chair up next to the bed, never letting go of Tony's hand. ] As soon as you wake up.

[ He goes down hard, another punch by the Titan that sends him into the dirt and knocks him out. He wakes with his head ringing despite the fact that the deafening battle around him is nothing by a dull roar around him. He pulls himself to his feet, searching for the others on the battlefield and catching Tony's eye. He's looking away from him, across the field at Strange, who raises a single finger.

Strange kept me alive for a reason. Tony had said a few days after he'd returned nearly starved and half the man he'd used to be. Things had been tense after Tony had spit in his face. After he'd thrown their failures at Steve's feet and thrust his heart into his hands. But that didn't mean that Steve hadn't tried to make amends. But by that time it had been too late. Thanos was dead and there hadn't been a way to bring anyone back. He'd said it was the only way. He'd looked into Tony's haunted eyes and then he'd looked away. As far as he could tell there hadn't been a reason for any of this.

He sees Tony pull himself up and he knows what he's going to do before he even begins to start moving towards Thanos. Steve's heart leaps into his throat as he forces his feet to move. Tony! his mind screams, but he can't get out his name before Tony's grabbed onto the glove. Thanos sends him flying and raises his hand. Steve moves past him, towards the armor, towards Tony. ]

Don't!

[ But it's too late, Tony has the stones in his gauntlet and he holds it up, his voice breathless and sure. Steve slams into him as he snaps his fingers and the world explodes in a white light of pain. His fingers feel as if they fuse to the glove, curling around Tony's as he's thrown back into the ground again and held there as white hot pain sears through them. He can smell the scent of burning skin, hear the shuddering echo of sudden stillness as Thanos' army dissipates around them, even as he can't move or breathe or speak.

After what feels like an eternity he force lessens and he struggles against it as he turns towards Tony beside him, reaching with his free hand for his face.]

Tony?

[ It's rasped out, barely a breath as he fights against the pain burning his lungs and lighting his nerves on fire.]

Edited 2019-04-28 22:00 (UTC)

[ He always looks happy to see her, whether it's been a few days or a few months. His eyes light up and that smile crosses his face that he only had for her.

Who are you? He asks jokingly more often than not because after a certain point she grows so quickly and so fast. Morgan? My Morgan?

Sometimes they're in the lake house. Sometimes they're sitting by the lake. Sometimes they're in his garage and he talks to her as he works.

He's always there for her if she needs to talk. On stand by if she needs him. ]

Edited 2019-04-29 02:14 (UTC)

[ Tony shivers again, and he realizes that maybe it’s not just the fluids that’s causing it. The adrenaline is running out, and he’s literally running on fumes. He doesn’t quite suspect Bruce just yet, but mainly because he’s suddenly too self aware of the wound, the way they’ll see how the sword sliced right through him.

When Steve speaks and confirms what Thanos has done, he’s suddenly thankful he’s sitting down. He almost looks like he’s imploding but he’s doing his damnedest to not let go just yet even if he feels like he can’t stop shaking.

At Bruce’s suggestion that he should rest, Tony shakes his head slightly. ]

No. No, I’m—

[ What, okay? He knows he can’t possibly sound convincing. And then Steve speaks, assuring him that he’ll be there, and he hardly notices that Bruce is gently guiding him to lay down before securing the IV to his arm. As he looks at Steve, he looks at him as if to try to convince him he doesn’t need to do this. But, at the same time, what’s there to do? They lost. He lost Peter. Thanos won. What is there to do now? As the sedative slowly works its way through his system, his breathing turns shaky as his eyes fill with tears again. ]

I didn’t—... I tried to bring him back, Steve. I tried... [ He shakes his head slightly, as if fighting how his body feels like it’s shutting down. ]

I just want to bring him back.

[ The vision in front of him is heartbreaking.

The shake in Tony's voice. The tears filling his eyes. The tremble in his grip. The pain in his words. ]

I know Tony. I—...know.[ His own voice breaks for the first time since the dusting. And Steve has to forcibly pull air into his lungs to keep himself from choking. He can't let Tony fall unconscious to the sight of him falling apart.

And yet, this was the only proof he would've accepted. Peter's gone. Gone. ]

We'll bring him back, Tony. [ He hears himself saying the words, and he can't help but feel surprised at how strong he sounds, even if he feels anything but. He feels small, and useless, and desperate. ] We'll bring him back together.

[ It's only when Tony's eyes close that the sobbing begins. Within seconds, his head is hung. Another few seconds, and Steve finds himself burying his face into Tony's bedsheets and his tears start to seep into the fabric. He doesn't know how long he does this for, but it's long enough that most of the team leaves to give them their space — and find their place to grieve for Peter.

Bruce stays. If for no other reason than to make sure that Steve doesn't need a sedative too, though he isn't sure how much he'd need to use. He watches, too, as Steve's hand clutches Tony's the entire time, even if Bruce has to force him to relax once or twice, because Cap, you can't hold him that hard. ]

I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just- ... I can't lose them both.

You won't. Steve. Please. You gotta trust me.

[ The beauty of the sedative is that it helps him rest without the usual pesky nightmares that generally don't let him sleep for longer than a few hours at a time. His body and mind seem to finally be able to disconnect now, and Tony sleeps for almost eleven hours straight.

When it's time to wake up, he does so slowly, groggily. His head feels like it's filled with cotton, everything is muffled and distorted, and at first his eyes don't even focus on anything specific. It almost looks like he's even ready to fall back asleep, but slowly his vision focuses enough to realize where he's at. He knows this place. Its glass walls, the window to the small courtyard.

More importantly, he recognizes the man that is next to his bed. This man that is holding his hand, he realizes, based on the warmth he feels radiating from his hand as he holds his. Is this real? For a long time, Steve has been a part of his dreams. Mostly his nightmares in the last few years, though, and that is why he half expects him to look at him angrily how he usually does in those dreams. But...it doesn't happen. If anything, it's the exact opposite; those eyes don't reflect resentment, or anger toward him.

And that's when he remembers. He's home. He's actually home now, and unconsciously the hand that's in Steve's closes weakly as if he's finally holding his hand back. ]

...you're really here.

[ It's hard to tell if it's a question or a statement, but he manages to hold his gaze much easier than he had been able to do before passing out. Although the reactor is not surgically attached to him, it still clings to him in a way that it wouldn't have been easy to remove without it stinging, but he's glad for it now because he uses the weight of it and its coldness against him to remind himself that he's really awake. He's actually home.

Steve is actually home, too, and he isn't sure which one of those two is the most surprising fact. ]

That couldn't be the end of it. It just couldn't. Mr. Stark is the closest thing to a dad that Peter had had since Uncle Ben died and he was not going through it again. He wouldn't, not now. Not when they'd just won.

"Move, white boy," he heard, but he didn't really process it or the source of it because he was too busy processing the fact that Dr. Strange just did the thing with the hands and the gold and the magic and then someone grabbed his arm — maybe Happy? — and he was being pulled through it with a "whoa!" slipping through his lips.

He'd looked around and caught sight of Mr. Stark, who had looked really bad, but he was laid out on a slab and there was so much tech around here that everywhere he looked, it looked like a damn sci-fi movie.

That had been fourteen hours ago.

They've been taking turns, an hour at a time, rotating to sit with him. When his eyes open, it startles Peter, partially because they snap open, looking wild, and partially because he's still so pale that it's actually a little scary. "Mr. Stark?" he breathes, his own eyes wide with shock.

Tony had known that using the stones would be, in a way, a ‘one way trip.’ Bruce had said it himself - no one could survive the effects of the stones other than the Hulk. Still, it hadn’t stopped him from trying because it had been their shot. One in fourteen million, as Strange had said. Five years ago Tony had known that he had saved him for a reason, and while at first he hadn’t understood it, it had all clicked when he saw the gauntlet and Thanos trying to reach for it.

It had been on him. He had to do it.

What comes after is all a blur; a painful blur that leaves him unable to even speak. His whole body feels like it’s burning, weighed down as if the suit weighs a few tons, but it all fades away as he finally loses consciousness.

The last thing he expects after that is to actually wake up. There are sounds, and voices that filter through, but it all feels like it’s too distant to be real. It’s muffled. He tries to make sense of it, but before he can figure it out he usually finds himself losing the battle with lucidity all over again.

Suddenly it all changes, though. It feels like another burst of white light floods him as he opens his eyes, and for a moment it’s hard to figure out if he’s still out on the field. If he still has the gauntlet in his hand. His right side still feels like it’s burning, and—

Where is he? What is this? Did he die? Is this—

“Mr. Stark?”

Peter’s voice is like an anchor, grounding him before his thoughts can get further away from him, and he turns slightly in his direction. It’s not much, everything hurts, but it’s something. He’s moving. He’s breathing, even if he can hardly believe it.

“Pete?” His voice sounds dry, rough from sleep and everything that has been happening since the snap. “Wh—... Where am I?”

Peter all but jumps to his feet when he hears Mr. Stark's voice, dry and cracked, but still very much Mr. Stark.

"Miss Potts!" Peter squeaks out, wide-eyed as he looks over his shoulder. "Miss Potts! Happy! He's awake! He's aw—" Peter stops abruptly and looks over at Mr. Stark again. "Holy crap, Mr. Stark, are you okay? Are you okay?"

He sits back down and drags his chair closer. "Try not to move too much, okay? Just...I don't know, we're...I don't know. Dr. Strange did the thing and then somebody pulled me through and then I was here and I thought this was your lab but you don't seem to recognize it, so I'm guessing it's not, but there's so much stuff here and it's like being in a sci-fi movie or something."

Peter stops again because he has to take a deep breath. "Sorry. Sorry, sorry. Oh man, I thought you were... We all kind of thought..." He can't make himself say it. Saying it will make it real.

[ Tony doesn’t notice Steve until it’s too late. Until he’s pretty much crashing against him as he snaps his fingers, and their bodies seem fuse together for a moment as the blast overtakes them both. Whatever protest he could have had is quickly forgotten, not because he never wanted anyone else to get harmed with this, but because the pain makes it hard to even breathe, let alone think.

It’s done. It’s over. It’s—

It’s...Steve, speaking to him. Tony’s ears feel like they’re ringing at first, but he hears his voice. Feels his hand on his face, and Tony shakily reaches up to wrap his hand around Steve’s wrist. As if somehow, by doing so, he can make sure Steve is still alive. That he hadn’t killed him with the blast, too. ]

You didn’t...

[ You didn’t need to do that, he wants to tell him. You shouldn’t have done it. Why?? He wants to yell at him for it, but his grip tightens unconsciously as a wave of pain takes over him in a sort of tremor that makes his entire body feel like it’s shaking. ]

You can’t die on me, alright?

[ It comes out almost in a groan, but he holds onto him a little tighter still. As if by doing so he’ll make him stay here. With him. ]

The last thing he feels is okay, but force of habit makes him nod faintly in response anyway. Especially with Peter.

Without moving, he lets his eyes trail along the room for a moment. It’s a lab, alright, but it’s not his own. He wonders if this had also been part of Strange’s plan, and for a moment the wizard doesn’t seem too bad if it’s giving him another chance even if he feels like shit.

When Peter speaks again, he turns back to him and shakes his head slightly. “It’s okay. I’m breathing, that’s...more than I thought I’d be doing.”

He’s a little afraid to know how bad the damage is from the gauntlet, but for now he has to remind himself that this has to be enough. He’s talking to Peter. Peter is alive. That’s enough.

God, Peter is alive. The thought alone makes him almost breathless all over again.

“...I still can’t believe you’re here.”

Peter huffs out a soft laugh, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly. "Yeah, well, I guess that makes two of us," he replies with a lopsided grin.

That's putting it lightly. Peter was sure. He was sure he'd lost Mr. Stark. He's sure that he wasn't the only one who thought that very same thing.

"Mr. Stark, I...how long was it? Did my aunt...was she...? I mean, did she know I was gone?" he asks before he can stop himself. He hopes the answer is that no, she hadn't known Peter was gone. That it hadn't been that long. He thinks someone might've said something already but he's not sure and everything was happening so fast that if they did, he hardly processed it.

[ Morgan had found out about BARF by pure accident; she had caught her mother using it one night when she thought Morgan was fast asleep. After that, Morgan had been insistent on using it to see her daddy. Pepper sometimes argued against it, and Morgan would pretend to drop the discussion, but she’d slip out in the middle of the night and find the tech from whatever new hiding spot Pepper would try until she deemed her daughter ‘old enough’ to use it regularly.

To Morgan, though, it was her only chance to see him so of course she’d go to whatever length she’d have to go to do it. Her father had died saving the entire universe, she knows that and understands it, but at the same time at her core she’s still the four year old that just wants her daddy to come home so they could sneak juicepops from the freezer while mommy was asleep.

As she gets older, the discussions change from tea parties, to soccer practice, to inventions of her own, to college acceptance letters. He’s always there, talking with her, smiling at her, and everything is right with the world even if she can’t reach over to take his hand and take him with her back out in the world.

Tonight, when she uses BARF, it’s while she’s using her father’s garage while she works. On the table there are designs, models of a new armor. The helmet is unquestionably familiar, and she doesn’t know if he’ll catch it, but working on it had made her nostalgic, so...she’d like to see him, even if it’s for a brief moment.

As he appears in the room, she grins like she always does. And, as she also tends to do, she has to remind herself that she can’t run up to him even if he looks so damn real. ]

Hi, Daddy.

Peter has a point, and Tony concedes with a small quirk at the lips. “Guess I can’t argue with you there.”

The question makes him pause for a moment. He doesn’t know how Peter is going to take the news, and it’s not like he can just get up to comfort him right now.

But, he deserves to know. And considering Tony’s level of guilt with all this, it needs to be him that tells him.

“Five years.” His throat feels even drier still, but he doesn’t stop talking. “I... Yeah. Your aunt knew. I went to see her a few days after I made it back from space. I would have gone sooner, but I couldn’t. It...the trip back was longer and harder than anticipated.”

With his good hand, he reaches for Peter’s as if to offer some comfort. It’s not much, but it’s all he can do right now.

“What do you remember?”

[ The struggle getting back to the Milano had been more than a little rough. Quill put the brunt of his focus on Stark, only stopping when he had to from taking on most of his weight, and sitting him down when they absolutely needed to. It was quiet getting back, interspersed with Peter offering small encouragements. Finally, a relieved: there she is.

Funny how it went, right? This guy showed up with all this flash and pomp and he didn't want jack to do with him. There was the fight, and then---he can't think about the fact that they lost. If he thinks about that, he'll think about Mantis, and Drax. Gamora. He'll wonder about Rocket and Groot. He can't do that. So, he does what he is able to do.

He gets Stark onto the ship, and to their little medbay that isn't even equipped for the shit they've been through, but it's something. Quill is banged up, but he didn't get stabbed by a big, purple, a-hole raisin. Lucky for them, he knows a little bit thanks to being raised by Yondu and the Ravagers. Maybe it's enough to get them some real help.

He sets him down on the rickety bunk they have down there as gently as he's able. ]

Okay, I'm gonna get you something for the pain first, and we'll get a better look, yeah?

[ Quill sets his jaw, lips pressed together thinly, and heads over to their---the gear. God, does this mean they're gone forever? What are they supposed to---Get it together, Quill. Gettin' all soft over here and for what? Can't do anything for them. Can do something for this guy, though.

He's got to. The idea of trying to do this on his own makes his stomach do flips, never mind the tight feeling in his chest. He grabs the injector and goes back to him. ]

Here we go. This is gonna sting a little.

[ The walk to the ship, despite all the stopping and going, feels like a blur for Tony. Maybe it’s shock. Maybe it’s the effects of the blade piercing through him. Maybe the adrenaline has already worn off. Whatever it is, it makes him lack focus. Sometimes it doesn’t dawn on him that Quill has said something until some time has passed by, but he can’t help it. It’s as if just taking one step after another is hard enough to do; if he lets himself think or do much beyond that, his brain is just not ready to process it. Not yet. Not when he just wants to go back, try to get Thanos back. Take me instead, he wants to tell him. Don’t take the kid. Don’t—

Of course, he knows it doesn’t work that way. He doesn’t even know where he disappeared to, although he has an idea, but now there’s the annoying question of what now. What do they do now? They had lost. Thanos had wiped the floor with them, and now...

He mumbles a quiet thanks to Quill once he helps him sit, and Tony unzips his jacket for easier access to where the makeshift ~~webbing~~ bandage is holding his skin together as much as it can, but even through it he can see the red seeping through. There should be a more emotional reaction to watching the wound that should have killed him bleed rather than take him out, but all he feels is guilt. He shouldn’t have been saved. It shouldn’t be him. Peter should be the one here, alive. Not him. Never him.

By the time Quill comes back, Tony looks pale but still awake enough to show that at least he’s not at the verge of passing out. ]

Yeah, it’s fine. You have, uh. bandages or something? I don’t know how much longer this thing will hold, and I don’t think I have enough nanonites to try to make more.

[ It takes almost a month and a half before Shuri and Dr. Cho feel comfortable enough with Tony’s progress to let him go home. The scarring along the right side of his body has been reduced to faint lines from where the force of the blast had carved his skin, the hearing in his right ear has been mostly saved, and ... well, his right arm hasn’t fallen off, so that’s something. There’s still some nerve damage that will require more treatments down the line, it’s questionable when or if he’ll ever be able to use his arm again, and he has given everyone enough scares during the early parts of his recovery that everyone thought he’d ultimately succumb to his injuries no matter how efficient Shuri’s and Helen’s tech could be, but here he is now. Alive. Breathing. Walking and moving on his own. It’s something and, for someone who had been sure he’d die amongst the rubble, it’s everything at the same time as well.

The first few days back home are quiet, but he spends as much time with his wife and daughter before he has to get some rest. It’ll take some time to be completely back to normal, Helen had reminded him before Strange opened the portal back to the lake house. They had essentially brought him back from the dead, from an injury that no one could have ever prepared for considering the force of the infinity stones; he needed to give himself time to heal as much as he could.

Unlike other times and other injuries, though, Tony is actually doing his best to be as compliant as possible. He hates being coddled or cooped up, that part hasn’t changed, but he’s trying. He knows he had scared the hell out of everyone. He knows that, with what he did, technically he shouldn’t even be alive. He had gotten a second chance, and the last thing he wants is to ruin that in any way.

After spending the morning with Morgan, Tony ends up taking a nap on the couch. Happy and Rhodey come some time around lunch, and end up taking the little girl out for cheeseburgers and ice cream. You should get some rest, too, Rhodey suggests to Pepper as he gives her a hug goodbye, we’ll watch after the munchkin for the rest of the day. Tony sleeps through the short visit, but some while after he wakes up. The house is quiet, but the sound of rain falling outside and the soft crackling of the fireplace soothes him before he can question where he is since sometimes he still wakes up disoriented.

He’s home. He’s finally home.

Just as he’s about to sit up, he hears Pepper’s footsteps and smiles softly when he sees her walk into the room. ]

Hey, Miss Potts.

Edited 2019-04-30 19:14 (UTC)

[ Pepper can't help but pause in the doorway, needing to take a moment to simply... bask in the sight of Tony lying there on the couch, safe and sound and beautifully alive. Looking at her with that same look she's seen many variations of during the near two decades they've known one another; though this particular version is by far Pepper's favorite.

How many second chances had they been given by now? They had gotten so lucky to have both survived the snap, for Tony to return on Earth-- then again for conceiving Morgan in this first place. To say nothing of all the near-misses and close calls from before any of that. And now, this. It's nothing short of miraculous. The welling of soul-deep love that brims up within her breast mingles with fierce protectiveness; nothing and no one would take this from them again. This was it, their own endgame, just them and their daughter.

Technically it was Mrs. Stark now, but the old bit is still very much alive between the two of them. Her smile softens a little more still, love and affection lighting up her blue eyes as she finally snaps out of her sentimental ruminations. ]

Hey yourself, Mister Stark.

[ In whisper-soft steps, she pads over to the couch and kneels on the floor beside him, one palm coming up to gently lay on his chest, covering his heart. The other delves into his hair, stroking slender fingers slowly through the salt-and-pepper strands she rather adores. ]

It seems we have the house to ourselves for the rest of the day. Happy and Jimmy are taking care of Morgan for a while.

[ She keeps her voice low, as if hesitant to disturb the calming mood created by the tapping of rain against the windowpanes and the soft hum emanating from the fireplace. ]

[ God, he thinks as she smiles at him, she’s beautiful. Tony has known this fact for years - far longer than the time they’ve been together - and sometimes it still takes his breath away to realize that she’s his wife. His partner in everything. He doesn’t know how he lucked out in being able to be here, with her, but he finds himself thanking whatever lucky stars he still has left for it all. For his daughter, for Pepper. For this. For everything.

The moment her palm rests against his chest, he moves his hand to rest it on top of hers. One of Tony’s ‘weaknesses’ has always been his hair, and when he feels her fingers moving through it, his smile grows as he closes his eyes briefly as he savors the sensation. ]

Oh yeah? Whatever shall we do with the whole house to ourselves?

[ His voice is coy, playful and gives her hand a gentle squeeze. ]

[ Pepper's eyes track his features fondly, as if re-learning every curve. Time has left their tracks on both of them, the pair of them no longer those fresh(er)-faced youths they once were. Middle-aged... when did that happen again, Pepper wonders idly. Tony has new lines etched across his face, fresh scars from his latest (and last, Pepper hopes with fervor) near-death experience, silver now streaking through his hair and beard.

And god, he's still the most handsome man she's ever seen. Knowing well his weaknesses, she tugs gently on his hair, occasionally letting blunt nails scritch his scalp just enough to feel good. Under the warm press of his hand, her thumb rubs into his chest through his shirt in small, back-and-forth motions.

Her lips, bare of any lipstick today, curve into a small smirk at his coyness. ]

I wouldn't remember, actually. It's been a while since that's happened, hasn't it.

[ Life with a small child didn't often afford them such luxuries, not that she'd trade away a single day spent with Morgan. ]

[ Tony reaches up, fingers circling Steve's wrist and he let's out a rush of air, one that his lungs have difficulty replenishing. Still the relief is enough to dull the white hot pain shooting through him for a moment. Tony speaks and Steve is so focused on his voice that he almost doesn't actually understand what he's saying.

He doesn't answer immediately because he feels like he may be dying, but if it's this bad for him, he can only imagine how bad it is for Tony. He can feel his fingers shaking as he holds onto him and Steve forces himself to try to breathe. ]

You either.

[ He takes a second to prepare himself and then he moves, shifting over onto his side with an undignified moan of pain. He shifts closer to Tony, startlingly pale against the charred armor of his suit. He can smell burnt flesh, though he doesn't know if it's his or Tony's. It doesn't really matter.

Tony's eyes are wide, pupils blown. It's clear enough that shock is settling in.]

Tony, stay with me. You did it. You ended it.

Hi, baby.

[ He's watched her grow from the little girl stored in his memory banks to the young woman in front of him. Part of him is modeled after JARVIS, though augmented enough to change depending on the user's preferences. It's far too easy to read Morgan's preferences, from the way he carries himself to the way he speaks. He's a combination of her memories, Pepper's and hours of footage of himself as he'd worked to get his own memories and neural pathways right in order to bring his memories to life.

He may not be Tony Stark in the flesh, but he's a damn good copy.

He runs his fingers over the plans on the table. ]

Ambitious. Does your mom know you're doing this?

[ Quill has seen a lot of injuries in his time. This one isn't the worst, but it's not good. What they have on the Milano will get them by, but he needs off this hellscape of a planet and to a real medical facility.

First, he has to get him off death's proverbial door first, and then work on his ship. He knows she's too damaged to get far. He can get them into space, but then what? One thing at a time, Quill.

He gives him the injection for the pain, and carefully pushes the edges of his jacket away to get a look. He keeps his face blank, but it's--- He doesn't even have it in him to try and find some kind of shitty joke to say. They lost and he can still taste dust on his tongue, and feel Mantis disappear against his side. ]

I got a little better than bandages, but it ain't a picnic. At least it'll get this bleeding stopped.

[ Infection, though? He ain't got anything for that. He's seen stuff like that take down the biggest, meanest Ravager on the ship when they were too far out from help. This guy is tough, but he definitely ain't that. He keeps that bit to himself for now. ]

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endgame open post

I haven't written in a while. Be gentle. 🤭

omg it’s perfect! Let me know if you want me to change anything ❤️

tony 😭

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Because I can't stop BARFing.

sob this thread

it hurts so much

omg steve ;-;

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❤️

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@efficacy

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