𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 — liar, liar

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 𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 imagined what Titan would have once looked like; she could have imagined lush blades of lime-green grass covering the expanse of the planet, she could picture the rush of crystalline water that gushed through the short ravines littered here and there. The sky would have been vibrant, beautiful and clear.

 But that picture-esc image inside of her mind was not the reality of the abandoned planet at the foot of the ragged spaceship.

 Titan was dilapidated. It was broken. The ground was bare of any life; dry and bleak russet soil was beneath their shoes and Emilia doubted any life could ever thrive atop it again. The sky was filled with smoke; it was obscured like a foggy October morning. In fact, there was a blanket of haze covering the entire planet; everything was blurry and the air seemed thick to breathe as though it could clog one's throat.

 However, the strangest part — to Emilia at least — was the gravity. The prickle of invisible gravitons always danced over her skin and made her hairs stand on end — at attention. She could feel it within her bones, just as always. But here, on the planet of amber and rolling clouds of dust, the gravity was... off.

 Emilia had felt it from the very moment she had peeked out of the ship. Her shoes had crunched against the petit stones lying vacant on the dry ground and her senses were alerted. It felt unlike anything she'd felt before, as though the air itself was whispering in her ear and trying to tell her what was wrong.

 Emilia, in a bout of curiosity, slightly bent her knees and hopped once in place. Her body felt as though it were as light as a feather, and as she jumped, her body drifted far higher than it should have. The descent back to the ground took longer, as though she were floating to the bottom of the ocean floor watching as bubbles crawled to the surface.

 Ahead of her, the leader of the group that had previously attacked them — Peter Quill — withdrew a device from his jacket pocket, "The hell happened to this planet?" the man muttered to himself, holding the device in the air as a frown formed on his lips, "It's eight degrees off its axis. Gravitational pull is all over the place."

 "So that's what I felt..." Emilia lowly spoke to herself, well aware of the eyes that were attracted to her upon the words leaving her.

 "Felt? What do you mean?"

 Emilia rose her head, shaking it for a moment to free her features of the stray hairs that tickled her skin. A single shoulder rose and fell in a slight shrug, "I manipulate gravity, I could feel that something was off."

 She had said such words with nothing but a nonchalant tone, eyes scanning the bare and bleak planet as she did. Peter Quill had gaped, his hand waving wildly as he gestured to her with the device still in his palm, "You can control gravity?"

 "Manipulate." The corner of her lip twitched, but it faded as fast as it blossomed, "At the moment."

 She could hear him splutter behind her as she turned her back on him in favour of joining Stephen's side. He had been the last to exit the ship, and he'd done so without a word; simply watching as Peter Parker animatedly spoke with Mantis, the woman he'd previously thought was chasing him down to implant with eggs. Tony had tailed behind them, eyes observing the planet whilst Drax — the one who had been at Tony's mercy — stayed by Peter Quill's side, though his daggers were now safely tucked away.

 Despite the situation they had now found themselves in; crashed on an unknown planet where it seemed as though no life could thrive, awaiting the inevitable face-off against the mad titan wielding the power of the infinity stones, Stephen Strange still felt a smile tug at his lips the moment Emilia approached him.

​​ It was muscle memory at this point. No thought went into his body's response towards her. Any beam of a grin that tore at her cheeks made him smile in return as his blood rushed faster. Her laughter forcefully pulled chuckles of his own from him, even if the situation wasn't remotely funny.

 Emilia watched him for a moment. His shoulders were tense, hands balled just as always when he grew frustrated with the tremors. But his face, his stoic face that had melted to a smile was finally lax.

 "Are you alright?" Her fingers swiped against his own, a breath of warmth leaving them as it caressed him gently.

 He hummed, his baritone voice concealed whilst he savoured the warmth grazing against his shaking fingers that perpetually ached. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, a rasp coating his tone, "The battle that's to come... I need to make sure that it's a fight we can win."

 Emilia understood from the moment he'd spoken. The glance he spared the Eye of Agamotto only confirmed her pondering; the Time Stone had many properties and capabilities, and one such ability allowed Stephen to view the future; to live through it and see what was soon to come.

 It was an advantage. He could suspend himself in time, lay out the path they were traversing, and see where it ended. If it ended in loss, then he'd observe another path until they came out victorious.

 From there, Stephen would be the one to steer them and pull the strings, to influence their decisions and be the sole navigator of their chosen path. He'd have to observe and meticulously choose when and where he — and the others — should be at any given time.

 The biggest problem, in Emilia's eyes, was the fact that Stephen would have to experience... and feel the losses he came across whilst searching for their secured win. Even after all of that, their win could simply be the path with the least casualties.

 That's if there was a path in which they won.

 Emilia nodded her head. The fingers that danced along Stephen's hand slipped between his own digits; she felt the shaking. They were worse than usual, just as they always were when treading towards the unknown.

 She cast a look over her shoulders and her lips begrudgingly rose at the sight of an exasperated Tony Stark trying to keep what little sanity he still had left whilst conversing with their newest team members, "Let's leave them to it."

 "Stark looks as though he's ready to follow through with his threats back on the ship." Stephen said, humour soaking his voice as the prospect of Stark getting riled once more.

 He allowed himself to be tugged away by Emilia, his eyes settling on the back of her head. The slick bun she'd stuffed her hair into had fallen loose; there were bumps on the top of her scalp where hair had come loose, flyaways around her face and at the base of her neck. Some were stuck to her skin, no doubt from the sweat that had formed in the midst of her exertion.

 She was pulling him closer to an area with a cluster of russet-coloured rocks. It was far more secluded from the others who were still arguing... and by others, particularly Stark and Quill. They hadn't heard a peep from Peter, Mantis or even Drax.

 Emilia finally pried her fingers from Stephens as she moved to the side, boots planted on the dust-slick ground. Her eyes closed with preconceived sympathy; there was no doubt in her mind that he'd see something terrible. From the deaths of those around her to the extinction of half of all living things. He'd have to see it all, time and time again until they found the route of their win.

 Stephen had settled himself on the rock with a huff, a cloud of orange erupting as he did so. His trembling hands were lifted and — as he'd done so many times before — he summoned the power of the Time Stone.

 Emerald green erupted from the Eye of Agamotto, dousing their bodies in the light of the Stone.

 "See you in a minute," Stephen muttered softly, allowing his hand to squeeze Emilia's for a final time before he sighed and clamped his eyes shut. His hands trembled furiously.

 Emilia brought her thumb to rest on her lip, tempted to chew it as the anxiety settled in. Those cocooned butterflies within her stomach seemed to have broken free, fluttering around and making her skin crawl.

 Stephen was floating just above the rock he'd settled on. His body was shrouded in mist as his head jerked from side to side. His features were contorted, no longer relaxed as he'd previously been when their fingers had been entangled. His eyes were clamped tightly shut, his mouth set in a thin line, though his lips parted here and there with silent gasps.

 The motion of his body moving was blurred, the only part of him moving at a regular pace was the Cloak of Levitation that jostled behind him; ever loyal.

 Emilia caught Tony's eyes as the group she and Stephen had parted from, began to make their way over. Stark's brows were furrowed, deep lines of what seemed to be concern etched into his forehead.

 "He okay?" The billionaire questioned as Emilia slowly lowered herself.

 Her knees bent, lowering her closer to the ground and into a squat. Her hand hovered mid-air, ready to rest upon Stephen's knee or clasp his hand the mere moment he snapped out of his mission; he wouldn't take long but watching as his head moved faster and his chest heaved harder... She always wanted to snap him out of it, pry him away from whatever horrors he likely faced.

 Yet she couldn't. For his sake, for the sake of the group gathered around them, and for the rest of those living within their universe. So, instead, she had to hold her breath and watch as he suffered.

 "He will be." Was Emilia's short and whispered response.

 It had been so light that the squall of wind that passed them by had almost taken it and carried it away from Tony's ears. Tony said nothing more. He stood silently beside Peter Parker as they all watched Stephen writhe in the air, head snapping to and fro, breathing intensified until finally, Stephen gasped.

 "Strange, we alright?" Tony called out.

 Stephen toppled forward, arms reaching out as a cry slipped from parted lips. His head was spinning, eyes still unclear as he fumbled in the dark.

 "Stephen." Emilia almost cooed, and immediately Stephen snapped his head up. His eyes found her own, boring into them with an intensity unlike any other. He released a quivering breath, and as Emilia surveyed him, she could see an unintelligible look in his faraway eyes.

 "Hey," She breathed and her fingers trailed over his skin in light circles, "Hey, you're here. I'm here. We're okay."

 "We're okay." He repeated breathlessly as his hand tightened on her forearm.

 She made no face, no indication on whether his tightened grip had hurt. She only sighed as she placed the tips of her pointer and middle finger beneath his chin, bringing his stare to her own once more, "What did you see?"

 The familiar clunking of Tony's metal suit caught Emilia's senses as the man approached. His arms stayed by his side as he eyed the pair, "See?"

 "I went forward in time to view alternate futures." Stephen panted, his chest still rising and falling as he did his best to bring his heart to a steady pace. His attention wasn't Tony, nor truly on the words that escaped him, but rather on the way Emilia lightly stroked his jaw with her thumb. "To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict."

 Emilia's lips, though she tried to curl them into a smile, formed a grimace at the thought. Back when Dormammu was their threat and the only fight the two needed to persevere through, Stephen had used his new Mystical abilities that came with donning the Time stone to defeat the creature. But such a win had only come from Stephen re-living the same fight against Dormammu for months on end.

 He had been killed in a variety of ways, each more painful and slow as time went on. Even to the day — a year and a half later — Stephen still awoke in a cold sweat in the very midst of the night. He would gasp and shudder as sweat trailed down the taut muscles of his back. His hands would curl into the limp strands of his oil-black hair and he would tug at them in utter frustration.

 Nightmares. He still had terrifying, realistic nightmares of that time. He would wake with the feeling of pain rushing through his blood, as though he'd been struck by Dormammu once more. Yet nothing would ever be there, pricking at his skin. He'd wake to a wide-eyed Emilia who would jump to her feet and crouch before him, whispering through the night in an attempt to calm him, just as he would have done for her, mere hours prior.

 And now, even though Stephen still suffered from the memories of the past, he'd been subjected once more to live through death and pain, all for the sake of others. Emilia slid her arm from his tightening grasp, fingers dancing down the inside of his forearm before they settled upon covering his balled-up fist.

 Quill was the first to speak. His hand scratched at the scruffy beard lining his jaw, "How many did you see?"

 "Fourteen million, six hundred and five."

 Tony had almost wanted to keep his mouth shut, keep whatever answer Stephen would have provided as a mystery. He knew, even despite the small grudge they seemingly held against one another, that Stephen could be trusted. Hell, Tony could easily say he trusted Stephen and Emilia more than some of his former teammates... So he knew that whether they won one hundred or ten million of those outcomes, Stephen would find a way to push them closer to a secured win. No matter the cost.

 They needed to know. Tony needed to, even if he didn't want to know, "How many did we win?"

 Stephen ducked his head once more, his throat closing in on itself. The things he'd seen were nothing short of horrible. The outcomes of watching as each of the Avengers, new and old, gave their lives for a lost cause. He had watched as Emilia was killed in battle by Thanos and his army so many times.

 He couldn't bring himself to face any of the people in front of him, not whilst those memories were still fresh in his mind. He had seen Stark laying in a pool of blood whilst pieces of his torn apart suit surrounded him. The young Peter Parker sprawled on the ground with limbs broken and bent as a final breath tore through a swollen throat. Quill with a knife at his throat, soon tearing through skin; even Mantis and Drax falling to the hands of Thanos and his children.

 He knew how everything was to end. He knew of the time that would pass before they would win. He knew how the fight on the very planet he stood upon would end; with dust and blood.

 But the worst of it was something he'd keep to himself until the day he died. The choice he had to make between the two outcomes in which they would win against the mad titan Thanos. Neither choice was without loss or consequence... but one favoured him more, and so that was the path he'd make them all walk.

 He had to lie. To pretend that there was only the one choice, the one way in which they would win.

 "One." He breathed as he kept his eyes trained on the swirling amber dust at his feet.

 It was out in the air now. Tony and Peter thought there was just one way to win. Quill and his team believed there was just one way, and now, so did Emilia.

 He'd lied to her face for the second time, and just like the last; he had no plans to reveal the truth. It would die with him.

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06-04-2022

i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! please remember to vote and comment, let me know what you think as i do require a certain amount of comments before i post another chapter!!

as you can all see, i changed some things up; i delved deeper into the burden on stephens shoulders as he traverses time to find his outcome, the trauma that comes with his fights. and, of course, there at the end i snuck in that there are two ways in which they would win against thanos... we all know the 'canon' ending, so what do you think is the second?