THREE DAYS AFTER TONY'S RETURN, and the Avengers Compound had been quieter than it had ever been. Not the kind of quiet that brought peace. But the kind that echoed. That hurt. That crept under your skin and made you remember the voices that were no longer there.

In the main living area, a cold gray light filtered through the towering windows, painting everything in shades of mourning. The hum of medical equipment filled the silence.

Tony sat slumped in a wheelchair, hooked up to an IV, a thin blanket tossed over his lap like an afterthought. His skin looked too pale, too thin — like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. Because he hadn't. Not really.

Before him hovered a holographic display, flickering softly with the names and faces of those who had vanished in the Decimation.

Bucky.
Sam.
Wanda.
Scott.
Shuri.
T'Challa.
Fury.

"It's been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth," Rhodey said grimly, eyes locked on the flickering images.

The others — Natasha, Steve, Rocket, Carol, Nebula — stood scattered around the room like shadows. Everyone too still. Too quiet. But somehow managing.

"World governments are in pieces," Natasha explained, her voice hoarse from lack of sleep. "The parts that are still working are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did, he did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures."

As she spoke, Peter Parker's face flickered onto the screen. The brave little Spider-Kid from the airport in Germany. Tony looked up just long enough to see it.
His throat closed.

The kid.
His kid.

Peter had died terrified, in his arms, crying "I don't want to go," like a prayer. Like a plea. Tony could still feel his trembling hands. Still feel the warmth leaving his small frame.

No parent should ever have to watch their child die.

But Peter wasn't the only one.

Ariel's face filled the screen next to Peter's — eyes bright, full of wonder, frozen in a time before chaos.

Tony's fingers curled into a fist.

Why did it have to come to this?

He'd fought so hard to protect them. To keep them safe. He'd even argued with her about the Sokovia Accords, thinking he was doing the right thing.

And she'd left. Hurt. Angry.

Still, she'd fought beside him when it mattered.

She always did.

Ariel had been like a daughter to him — the daughter he never had but always felt was waiting for him just around the corner. The others used to tease the two about it. Tony would make further jokes and Ariel used to roll her eyes and laugh like a wave crashing on the shore.

But now?

Now the shore was empty.

And the sea had gone still.

She used to help me in the lab, Tony thought to himself quietly. Always curious. Always asking a million questions. Drove me nuts... He swallowed hard. And I miss it.

Silence.

She was gone.

His little helper. His favorite sea urchin — one of the many nicknames used to annoy her. The girl who once danced barefoot through his lab, who always smelled faintly of ocean breeze and something sweet — like summer. The girl who laughed at his dumb jokes, who reminded him why he fought so hard in the first place. She wasn't just some recruit. She wasn't just an Avenger.

She was family.

Then:

"Where is he now?" he asked, meaning Thanos.

Steve, who stood at the edge of the room with arms crossed tight over his chest, shook his head. "We don't know. He just opened a portal and walked through."

Tony exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.

Across the room, Thor sat alone — brooding, furious, hollow.

"What's wrong with him?" Tony asked, nodding toward the Asgardian, seemingly deep in thought.

"He's pissed," Rocket replied, folding his arms. "He thinks he failed. Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?"

"Honestly, until this exact second, I literaly thought you were a Build-A-Bear," Tony said, glancing at Rocket.

"Maybe I am," Rocket deadpanned.

No one laughed.

No one could.

The compound creaked in the wind like it was grieving with them.

Ariel's hologram still glowed faintly in the corner of the screen — flickering like a candle that refused to go out. Her smile felt like a wound. Her absence, a roar.

"We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now," Steve said, standing with his arms crossed tight as if holding himself together. "Deep Space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him.

"Who told you that? I didn't fight him," Tony snapped, his voice hoarse, bitter. " No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the store. That's what happened. There was no fight."

"Okay."

"He's unbeatable."

Steve stepped forward, gently. "Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?"

Tony gave a hollow scoff, shaking his head.

"Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back," he muttered, rubbing the ghost of a scar on his chest. " I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming."

"Tony, I'm gonna need you to focus—" Steve began, but Tony's voice cut sharper now.

"And I needed you. As in past tense," His voice was low, dangerous. "That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?" Tony stood up, pushing things off the table with a clatter. Everyone winced at the noise. "I need to shave and a burger, not a bowl of soup."

He yanked the IV from his arm. Rhodey rushed forward, alarmed, but Tony waved him off and stood shakily, the anger keeping him upright.

"Tony, Tony, Tony!"

"And I believe I remember telling all of you, alive and otherwise," he growled, dragging his feet across the room toward Steve. "that we needed a suit of armor around the world, whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not—"

"But that didn't work out," Steve said softly, "did it?"

Tony scoffed, bitter and broken. "I said we'd lose, you said we'd "do that together, too." Guess what, Cap, we lost, and you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the "Avengers", not the "Pre-vengers-"

He stopped inches from Steve, trembling from rage and fatigue.

Rhodey stepped in again, trying to steady him. "Okay you made your point. Now sit down. Tony, just sit down, okay?"

But Tony wasn't done.

"No, no, here's me point. You know what?" He pointed to Carol across the room. "She's great by the way."

"Tony, you're sick. Sit down."

"We need you. You're new blood. Bunch of tired old mules..." Then he turned to Steve again, colder now. "I got nothing for you, Cap. I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar."

"Tony," Steve said, barely above a pleading whisper, affected and yes, even hurt, "You can't give up now. Not when they—" when she...

"Watch me, Cap."

Steve reached into his pocket and pulled something small, something blue and glinting.

Tony didn't need to look twice. His breath caught, sharp and sudden.

The pearl necklace. The one he had made her. Shimmering like a piece of the ocean itself — a soft reminder of a voice like a lullaby, a laugh like wind chimes, a girl who had once sat beside him in his lab, with starfish in her hair, thousand questions in her eyes. And endless dreams in her heart...

Ariel.

His clever girl.

Gone.

He reached for the necklace as if it might burn him — or save him. His fingers shook as he took it, then curled tightly around it, pulling it to his chest like it might stop the ache from splitting him in two.

She wore it every damn day.
Even when she was furious with him.
Even when she slammed the door and said he didn't understand her.
Even when he didn't.

Tony's eyes went glassy. His mouth moved, but nothing came out.

The room was still.

Then, with a sudden surge of anger, Tony ripped the arc reactor from his chest. Tore it free with a gasp, like it cost him the last of his breath. The sudden motion made Steve flinch.

"Is this what you wanted?" Tony spat, his voice sharp and shaking. "Some kind of confession? Some kind of breakdown so you can feel better?" He shoved the glowing core into Steve's hands like it was poison. "Here. Take it. You want guilt? You got it. You win."

His chest rose and fell in uneven bursts. His fists were clenched so tight they shook.

Then... his knees buckled.

Not from rage.

But from sorrow.

The kind that crushes. That swallows a man whole and leaves only a shell behind.

"Tony—" Rhodey rushed forward before Tony could fall.

"I'm fine," Tony whispered hoarsely — a lie he'd told a thousand times before. Even as his body sank to the ground like a puppet whose strings had finally snapped. His back hit the wall. The necklace stayed in his hand — clutched tight, like if he just held it long enough, maybe she'd come back.

His breathing slowed.

"I..."

The word never finished.

His eyes fluttered. And in that flicker between waking and darkness — he saw them.

Peter.

Ariel.

Their faces were frozen in the holograms across the room. Static. Untouchable. Gone. But in his memory... in that cruel, fragile space between heartbeats... they were smiling.

But their smile faded.

The memory burned.

And then—

Darkness.

Like the ocean swallowing him whole.