A battle of wills was on, and Brooklyn couldn't believe what she was seeing, and that was really saying something for a kid who was standing at the center of hell with her family dead at her feet.  The two men, Wade and Tony, were actually getting along quite well for the first time in either of their lives, but true to form, they couldn't be too agreeable when anything having to do with you was at stake.  Each man was far too entrenched in his own convictions, and each wore their attitudes like a body of armor that made the Iron Man suit look like a Halloween costume.

"Okay," Tony paused, now standing toe-to-toe with his challenger, "we can at least agree that we have the same goal here, right?"

"Reanimate the corpses, yes."

Tony had at least removed the Gauntlet from his own hand by now and the power from it had waned, but he still held it just out of reach for Wade to get to.  "Can we agree that this thing is something that we don't understand, and we could inadvertently destroy the universe, just to get our own way?"

"Boom," Wade nodded in agreement, "it's a shit show anyway."

"And that when we're done, and we get everyone back, we let Thor take it back to Asgard for safe keeping?"

"He can't get that damn thing far enough away from me."

"Alright, good," Tony nodded, "then it's settled.  I'm the one with the suit equipped for space travel."  With that, he began to slip the Gauntlet on once again, but both Wade and Brooke jumped forward to stop him, with Wade surprising even himself by winning out and slamming his hand inside the glove to secure it.

"Hoooooly shiiiiit," he gasped, taking a few stumbling steps back, "this is...this...I can see everything.  I can see why you wanted it back on so bad.  Stark..."

Tony didn't respond, simply holding his ground to watch what was happening; he had just cleared his mind of what Wade was now seeing, a universe filled with so many wonders and terrors that his little human mind could barely comprehend it.  He could see the past, as far back as he wanted, wherever he wanted.  He could see realms that he had heard about from Thor, despite having no clue what they were called; some of those names were just too hard and he would never admit that aloud.  The future was more of a hazy uncertainty, however, but all of that became insignificant when he saw something that drove his need to do this to a panicked frenzy; maybe he was hallucinating, in his exhausted state of grief, but he wouldn't truly believe it.  It was too real.

"I don't..." Wade began again, in panting words, "I can't do this...did you see-"

"I did.  That's why we have to, Wilson.  This isn't right."

"But, Stark...what if they don't want us to?"

"Grandpa, what does he mean, if they don't want us to?" Brooklyn asked, her voice filled with concern.  She wanted everyone back just as much as they did, and the price she was willing to pay was high, but not at your expense if doing this would only make things worse; she wasn't sure how that would be possible, though, given the death surrounding her.

"They're in eternity, sweetheart.  Your mom and dad, Anthony, Grant-"

"And Maggie, kid," Wade snapped, interrupting harshly and yanking the glove off, "she's there too.  They look like maybe bringing them back to this fucked up hell on earth isn't such a groovy idea.  They look like maybe we should do them a favor and just let them be gone.  Why would we just bring them back to this flamed-out suffer party when they're finally okay?"

~~~

You had never felt such relaxation; the sun warm, the air smelling of a fresh spring, and a peaceful quiet around you in an empty Central Park.  It was a rarity to be off work, much less to find such a silence in this always crazy city.  Steve was sleeping, his head heavy in your lap, his feet hanging over the edge of the bench that held you both.  Anthony had his head buried deep in book on the bench across the park street from you, while Grant was pushing Maggie on the swings only a few feet away.  Her giggles and unbridled laughter filled the sweet air around you with each dig of her brother's fingers as he tickled her at every push. 

It was the perfect day.

But you paused your thoughts, something in your mind not coming together and nagging at you to figure it out.  Steve was here, a strange bliss in his gentle snores, and your three children were only a few feet away.  It all seemed right.  It all seemed...too perfect.

"Steve," you nudged gently, "Steve, wake up."

"Hmm?" he yawned softly, heavy lids opening to show his sparkling blue eyes.  "What's up?"

"I don't know," you began, again looking in every direction as if you had lost something.  Your mind was now screaming at you to understand, to realize what wasn't there.  "I can't shake this feeling...that this isn't right.  What are we not seeing?"

Steve pushed himself up, swinging his feet around to stand, the tone in your voice bringing his protective side to life.  In this beautiful setting, he couldn't imagine there being a need for it, but he trusted your instincts as much as he trusted his own, and now his mind was joining yours in its fear.  "Tell me what you're thinking."

"It's probably nothing, but I just can't figure it out," you shook your head, standing to join him.  "I'm overreacting, right?"

"Maybe...or maybe not," he said pensively, brow furrowed in deep thought, until he stopped with wide eyes and turning to grab your arm with a pinching force and a tremulous hand.  "(Y/N), it's Brooke.  Where's Brooke?  And why is Maggie here?  Doll, where is she?" he asked in a voice carrying a new urgency.

With a struggled gasp, you dropped back heavily onto the bench, slapping a hand over your mouth to stifle the yelp of pure terror in your voice so that your children wouldn't hear.  You caught a glimpse of Anthony sensing your shift, and now he was standing to join you.  Before he could get there, to save him from the absolute horror you were about to speak, you took Steve's hand and pulled him down to sit at your side to lower your voice just enough.  It did nothing to hide your panic once you understood that you had actually felt this kind of peace and relaxation before.

"Oh god...Steve...we're dead.  We lost."  And before the final syllable could roll from your tongue and pass through your lips, you saw a bright light begin to grow in the distance.

~~~

"No, we're doing this," Tony quickly fought back, his hand up with its repulsor charging, "and you'll give me that Gauntlet right now.  I'm getting my girl back, and no one is going to stop me.  I don't give a shit if you're indestructible or not, I'll find a way."

"Grandpa, calm down-"

"Bring it on, tin can."

"Uncle Wade-"

"We don't have time to argue about this," Tony insisted, "so just give me the damn thing and walk away if that's what you want.  Or don't, and I'll knock your ass into next Tuesday and take it myself."

Wade opened his mouth for a glorious comeback, one of his best, if he were to judge his own creativity, but he didn't get any farther than that; not even the utterance of a sound from his throat.  His hands were frozen in place and his body felt heavy, as if he were sinking into the floor.  The look on Tony's face let on that maybe he was in the same position.

"Stop fighting," Brooke cried, trying to breathe slowly enough to hold her resolve, and to hold the two men still.  "Isn't there enough angst around you?  Don't you dare stand next to Mom and Dad, after what they've done to try to save us, and fight about them and what you think they would have wanted.  Don't you dare speak for them."  She stopped for an attempt at a calming breath, but it was pointless.  "Now," she said as she stepped closer, "give me that."

"No," Tony tried to say, the word coming out more like a sickened whimper than anything intelligible.

Brooke took the massive glove into her hands and studied it, turning it slowly over a few times until she was satisfied with its design.  The stones glowed and shimmered, vibrant and alive, and she could barely pull herself away from their magnificence.  When she finally looked up at Tony and Wade, she exuded a new calm that surprised even herself as she released her hold just enough to allow them to speak.  "Grandpa, when this is done, what will you do with the Gauntlet?  Be honest with me."

"Brooke, don't do this-"

"Answer me."

"I'll destroy it so that no one can ever do this to us or anyone else again."

"Hmm," she mumbled with a gentle nod, turning her attentions, "so you won't actually give it Uncle Thor like you said you would.  That's interesting.  And you, Uncle Wade?"

"Well, if I time it right, I was thinking about coming in hot a few minutes before Purple Nut Sack drops onto the planet, meet him with a big old smile...and then blast his fucking head off before he can do this to you guys.  Altruistic, I know," he said as he tried to smile, "but hey, that's me.  I'm a giver."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I don't know, kid.  I'm just barely hangin' on here, okay?  Giving it to Goldilocks seemed like a good idea before Iron Dick over here admitted he was lying about it."

"I wasn't lying, I just...I changed my mind," Tony argued back, hoping that you would buy it long enough to take his side.  "Look, I know my daughter, okay?  If there was a way to bring her back here, she would want us to do it.  She would never, ever be okay with me being the only one that Brooke has.  Not me.  Especially not now, when I'm one beat from a homicidal rampage."

"Grandpa, you raised Mom.  Of course she would trust you with raising me."

Tony's chin began to quiver, giving him away, but in true Stark form, he pushed those feelings down, letting the pain and destruction take the lead again.  This was his safe place, the darkness welcome when faced with this kind of challenge, this evisceration of his soul when there was barely anything even left.  There would be only one way for him to be pulled back from this, and he knew it; he also knew that he wouldn't be kept from it for one minute more.  "Why are we wasting time with this discussion?!  We have the way to turn this all back, and we're going to use it!  You're either with me, or you're not!"

Wade groaned aloud, reaching his hands out to Brooke with a lopsided grin before pulling his mask back down and taking on his alter ego's persona.  It lightened the mood somehow, just enough to take the sting out of what might be the end of everything if he screwed this up.  Going into the prospect of an eternal void was a little more tolerable if he could go out with a laugh, genuine or not.  At least the mask would hide his fear, as it had done so well for so long now.  "Okay, so how the hell does this thing work?  Is there, like, and on-switch or something?  It's a little blinged-out for my style, but I can rock pretty much anything." 

"It works by intention," Brooklyn answered quietly, "and the emotions behind it."

"So, I have to be a sensitive little bitch to make this Etsy reject work?"

"I suppose that's one way to describe it."

Wade took a single step back, as if it would be any help if this should backfire, and raised his Gauntlet-clad hand up over his head and towards the open sky above.  He didn't know if that were a part of the process or mystique of it, but it sure felt cool, like comic book action cool.  He closed his eyes and filled his mind with the last sight of every friend he had stepped over, the sounds and smells of the destruction on every side, and finally, the searing pain in his chest at the sight of your lifeless body next to Steve's; he allowed that feeling in without limits, and the stones within the Gauntlet began to glow.  He could feel his body heating up, the sensation running down his arm and into his chest, filling him with both pain and energy, every cell in his body on the verge of explosion.  In his last thought, if it happened to truly be his last, he let one final glimpse of his heart into his mind before everything around him dissolved into blinding light.

Till death do us part.

"Maximum...effort!"