NEBULA BEGAN TO WALK RIGHT INTO THE TEMPLE. With a hand, Rhodey stopped her, speaking, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. This is the part where spikes come out with the skeletons on the end and everything..."

Nebula turned to the man, confused, "What are you talking about?"

"When you break into a place called the temple of the Power Stone, there's gonna be a bunch of boobytraps—"

Nebula shook her head and strolled inside.
Bronwen grinned, "Do you want me to hold your hand?"

Her only reply was a mumbled, "Shut up, Stark."

Bronwen followed the woman inside, her eyes swinging left and right as she subconsciously looked out for boobytraps, as Rhodey called them.
She didn't react when Rhodey called her Stark, as her last name did change when Tony and Pepper had decided to adopt her five years ago. Some nights, Bronwen wondered why they had done it, was it out of pity for the girl? To lose everyone, Peter, Gwen, even her friends from school had disappeared.
It was a fifty-fifty chance, and she lost them all.
The temple was a dark, cavernous space. Floor made of engraved stone, and the centerpiece was a glowing light that stood on a pedestal, a round ball made of similar stone floating inside the light.
Bronwen rubbed her hand over her scar, the light pulsing in her hand as she stepped closer to the stone. She was curious to how she would react, would it be like the 'glowy thing' Peter had found six years ago?
Hopefully not.
Nebula lifted her arm and pressed through the barrier, the outside 'skin' on her arm burning away to reveal the metal underneath. She grabbed the orb, tossing it carelessly to Rhodey, shaking her hand as the final pieces of metal fell off, charred, useless.
"I wasn't always like this." Nebula said.

"Me neither. But we work with what we got, right?" Rhodey glanced over toward Bronwen, who was quiet, "Sync up." The trio activated their suits, holding their hands over the button, "Three...two...one..."

Bronwen pressed down, and she disappeared, along with Rhodey.
Neither saw how Nebula began to malfunction, her suit disappearing, she was unable to move.

∆ ∆ ∆

Bronwen stumbled as she reappeared at the Avengers Compound in their present time. She was breathing heavily, pushing the strands of her hair back to her braid.
Her eyes scanned across the room and—
"Did we get them all?" Bruce asked.

"You telling me this'll actually work?" Rhodey said.

Bronwen had to scan her eyes across the room a second time.
No...
No.
No.
Nat, Nat wasn't there. She couldn't see her.
Bronwen's hands shook, and she clenched them into fists.
No, no, no, this wasn't fair. This wasn't right. Bronwen lost everything, and still, Nat...
Clint was on his knees, looking to the floor.
The rest of the group was silent.
Bronwen stumbled back, shaking her head. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair.
Tony came rushing across the platform, but Bronwen couldn't hear him as he tried to talk to her, to console her. Tears made her vision blurry as she sunk to the ground, leaning against one of the light poles.
"No, no, no, no, no." She was muttering in a language she hadn't used in years, a language she had forbid herself to use.

Nat can't be gone.
She just can't.
Bronwen didn't see the group vacate the platform, her father wrapping his arms around her, still talking.
Nat can't be gone. She can't be... the past five years brought the two women, who had gone through so much in their childhoods, closer together. They bonded. While trying to help others they helped each other, too.
And now she was dead.

∆ ∆ ∆

Bronwen watched on by Tony's side as he carefully placed the stones into a gauntlet he had made. She hadn't left her father's side since she was coaxed off the platform, a jumper carelessly thrown over her suit. Her face was red from tears, her hair pulled out of its tight braid, strands flying everywhere in its messy state.
Rocket and Bruce were watching the stones be placed, and as soon as Tony had put them on the gauntlet—

"BOOM!" Rocket cackled as Bronwen, Tony and Bruce all jumped slightly.

Tony clasped his hand around Bronwen's, "It's okay. It's done... it's done..."

∆ ∆ ∆

The team congregated in another room, crowding around the gauntlet with the stones on it.
"All right. The glove's ready. Question is, who's gonna snap their freaking fingers?" Rocket asked.

Bronwen involuntarily stepped back.

"I'll do it." Thor stepped toward the gauntlet.

The whole room was left in a state of confusion, Scott being the only one to force worlds out, "Excuse me?"

"It's okay."

The group began to stop Thor from advancing toward the gauntlet, muttering things such as hold up, or whoa whoa whoa.
"Wait, wait, wait." Steve held a hand up, "Thor, just wait. We haven't decided who's gonna put that on yet."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Thor snapped, "What, were you just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?"

"We should at least discuss it." Scott shrugged.

"Look, us sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I'm the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It's my duty."

Tony sighed, "It's not that..."

Thor hushed everyone, "It's... stop it! Just let me... just met me do it. Just let me do something good. Something great."

"Look..." Tony started, "It's not just the fact that the glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I'm telling you, you're in no condition."

Thor frowned, "What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?"

Rhodey raised his brows, "Cheez Whiz?"

"Lightning."

Tony nodded, "Yeah."

"Lightning won't help you, pal." Bruce cut through the silence, "It's gotta be me." The group stared, "You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive."

"How do we know you will?" Steve asked.

"We won't. But the radiation is mostly gamma..." Bruce took a good look at the gauntlet, studying it, "It's like... uh... I was made for this."

Tony sighed, and the group silently made the decision, "Good to go, yeah?"

"Let's do it."

"You remember everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, and just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything for the last five years."

Bruce nodded, "Got it."

Everyone suits up, their quantum suits appearing. The group took a collective step back.
Bronwen wrapped a hand around Tony's.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., do me a favour and activate Protocol 8." Tony said.

"Yes boss."

Bronwen flinched as shutters went over the windows, hallways and rooms were closed off from each other. The whole facility was going into lockdown.

"Everybody comes home." Bruce muttered. The gauntlet shaped around his hand as he pulled it on, and once the metal finished shifting, a surge of colour ran up his arm. Bruce grunted, falling to his knees.

Thor almost rushed forward, "Take it off. Take it off!"

Steve held a hand out to stop him, "No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?"

"Talk to me, Banner." Tony said.

Their group watched on as Bruce became silent. Bronwen clenched her free hand into a fist, calling on her power.
"I'm okay. I'm okay." Bruce looked up at the group, and nodded.

Tony squeezed Bronwen's hand.
Bruce lifted his arm, screaming, as he painfully brought his fingers together and—
He snapped.
Bruce fell to the ground, unconscious, the gauntlet falling off his arm. Bronwen acts, using her power to lift the gauntlet above the groups head, moving it away as they rush toward their friend.
"Don't move him." Tony ordered.

Bruce slowly came back to consciousness, "Did it work?"

Bronwen didn't hear their conversation as she watched Scott walk toward the window, lockdown having been turned off. A phone began to ring, and she could hear footsteps as they rushed toward it.
Clint, in the background, couldn't contain his happiness as she spoke on the phone.
And Bronwen...
A smile spread across her face. She could...
Bronwen looked over to her father, and her grin turned wider.
Peter.
She could feel that feather, as strong as ever, even miles away from each other. The purple strand that she had connected themselves together was there.
Peter was alive.

IT BROUGHT ME SO MUCH  JOY TO WRITE THE END OF THIS CHAPTER.
I was grinning, and I had that funny feeling in my chest when I'm overly happy/excited. If the author is feeling things toward their work, does that mean its working?
Unfortunately the good can only come with the bad. My dear Natasha deserved more than a chair carelessly thrown into the lake. (I didn't show that in this chapter, don't you worry. You didn't miss anything)
But... PETER!!!!
So from what I know there's... two chapters left?
:(
Until the next chapter!
- J