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Iris didn't plan to spend the next three or so weeks in a foreign ship, floating in the middle of space, playing paper football. 

And yet, here she was. 

Tony was trying to explain the game to Nebula for the umpteenth time. Instead of holding up the goal with her finger, Nebula had lunged for the flying paper football, and nearly took out Tony's eye in the process. "You don't need to do that because you're just holding the position."  

Nebula grunted, concentrating very hard at the mock football in her hands. She set it down, flicked it, and the thing just missed Tony's left thumb. "That was close." 

Tony tossed the thing back to Nebula, who set up again. With a pause of concentration, the paper ball went flying between Stark's two thumbs. "That's a goal, we're now one apiece." 

Nebula nodded, catching on. "I would like to try again." 

Iris fought a smile from her corner as the two restarted, Nebula shooting first. It flew between his fingers, another goal. "We're tied up, feel the tension? It's fun." 

Nebula still looked a bit skeptical as Tony set up his shot. It would've gone in too if Iris hadn't waved two fingers that sent the paper football spiraling to the right. 

Tony sat up straight, giving her a look. "No playing dirty, cheater!" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Iris smirked and tried to hide the way she slouched against the wall after her miniscule show of power, but Tony didn't miss a beat. 

Concern quickly replaced mock anger, and he made a move to stand. Iris waved her hand. "I'm fine, you're down a point by the way." 

He didn't take the bait. "Save your energy, Supergirl." 

"Finish your game, Stark." 

Tony, after a moment of giving Iris a look full of worry, went back to playing with Nebula. 

The brunette turned away, limping just barely to the only other room in the ship: the cockpit. She walked over to one of the chairs and collapsed into it, staring at the deep expanse of space out through the near wall of windows. 

The battle on Titan (Iris had figured out the name of the planet via Tony, they had little else to talk about on the ship) left no one unscathed. 

Tony had managed to find the Guardians ship, very much damaged, but still salvageable, near the wreck of the giant ship Iris had held in midair. 

He'd managed to piece together what he could, and the first few days aboard the ship in space were filled with nothing but repairs, a few stolen hours of sleep, lots of shouting, and more repairs. 

Iris knew absolutely nothing about mechanics, much less alien mechanics, and all she did was obey Tony's shouts from the floor, where he stayed most of those days. 

The only reason they stopped was that a) they'd done all that they could with what parts were on the ship, or around them, and b) both Tony and Iris had passed out on the floor, from both injuries and stress. 

Had Nebula not been on the ship with them, the two wouldn't have survived, all three of them knew it too. 

Tony's injuries were obvious: the stab wound in his torso, and a few minor cuts and bruises littered just about everywhere else.  

Iris, on the other hand, didn't realize she had half of her wounds after Nebula had pointed them out, and treated them to the best of her ability. 

On her left hand, extending from her fingertips to mid-bicep, were what looked like burns. She hadn't noticed them until they removed her armor, and then the pain kicked in full force, and she'd nearly passed out again. 

Iris could guess where'd they'd come from, and so could Tony and Nebula, but there wasn't a word spoken about the supposed source. 

There were a few other gashes spattered here and there on her skin, just like Tony. The only other thing Iris came away with that Tony hadn't (to her knowledge) was the aching of every single bone in her body. Every. Single. One. She could hardly stand after the first few hours had ticked by. 

Iris supposed it was because of her powers, and the fact she hadn't used them to that degree ever. It had been a while since she'd used them on a small scale too.  

The soreness still hadn't gone, and now it was more of an annoying side effect than a hindrance. Iris had gotten used to it, almost forgotten what it was like to walk without stumbling to the closest wall. 

Or perhaps that was just the malnourishment. 

They'd run out of food at least a day ago, probably more, she'd lost track at this point. There was a very small amount of water left, and she was pretty sure Tony had drunk it earlier that day. Come to think of it, it was nearly impossible to tell when a new day had started. 

Space didn't have a sun and moon to track the hours of day and night, and the glow of cool colors outside remained nearly the same. Thank God Tony had been wearing a watch when he'd left Earth because he was the only way Iris would know what time it was, at least, in Eastern Standard Time. 

There was yet another deeply pressing matter, one that would most likely be the death of everyone aboard: Oxygen ran out in the morning. 

Iris's heart had stuttered when Tony relayed the news to them three days ago. Nebula had given no visible reaction, Iris didn't even know if the cyborg needed oxygen to live. But her and Tony certainly did.  

Iris took a deep breath and shifted in her position in the chair, swinging her legs over one arm, and leaning her head against the other. She brushed her hair over one shoulder, draping it across her chest like some sort of blanket. Turning her head to gaze out the window to her left, Iris watching the stars wink at her from millions of miles away. 

The scene before her looked like a painting, and a damn good one at that, even if it was a bit gloomy. There were blues and greens and purples and a splash of yellow and white thrown in there too. The light from suns from light years away gave her enough light in the cabin to make out most of the details. 

Iris had learned from Nebula that this ship was called 'Milano', a strange name, sure, but it could've been worse. 

That's when Tony walked into the room, using the wall for support, holding his battered Iron Man helmet. Half of it was severely burned, metal casting long gone, and most of the wires inside were exposed. Iris was sure it still worked though, and if it didn't, she knew Tony would have it running less then a minute.  

She made a move to sit up. "Do you need the room?" 

Tony shook his head, sitting down between the seats. He placed the helmet next to her chair, and he sat against the other. Tony reached forward, switching someone on inside the mechanics, and the eyes glowed a weak blue. 

"You can stay, I just... may need a minute." 

A/N: It's here... 

Only one sister makes it out alive... 

Please don't read this unless you've watched Endgame, I'm serious. I'm flattered you want to read my stories, truly, but this is the biggest movie of the decade, and I don't want you to have it spoiled for you because you wanted to read fanfiction 

On that note, having watched Endgame, I'm still crying and it's almost been a week since I've seen it 

Thank you again for reading (if you are) It really means everything to me <3 

Stay not dead, 

~Kelly~