𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 — a blinding light

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 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄, life can seem far more painful than death; being the griever rather than the grieved felt so much harder. Having to push past every emotion just to try to function as a normal human being, only to fail.

 There was the unrelenting pain that shot through the heart like a poisoned arrow with every flash of the deceased features. Every chime of ghost-like laughter that one's head would force forth would shatter the heart like a diamond to glass.

 But then came the solace within numbness. Moments where the body ceased all feeling and offered a burst of minimal peace. It would start in the fingertips and toes, as though one had trekked through a blanket of snow, it would spread like coiling vines to the arms and legs. Then the black, cold tendrils would reach out like boney fingers until the heart was seized in its hold.

 Yet it felt... Relieving.

 Emilia wished that the numbness that flashed through her was enough to quell her bubbling rage and unending sadness, yet it wasn't. With every cool breath that was sucked into her lungs, it only hurt more. She was alive when so many were not.

 She, the woman who had killed a dozen in one fell swoop, she who had burned her parents alive, she who had the remnants of the dark dimension swirling throughout her blood and soul, she had survived.

 When the numbness infiltrated her flesh, she could only beg for emotion; she deserved to feel guilty for surviving. Yet when the emotion flooded her eyes and clouded her vision, she could only weep and beg to gods she didn't believe in for it to stop.

 It had only been hours since everything had fallen silent and Emilia, Tony and Nebula had watched on as the life around them faded to dull ashes. Emilia had sobbed until she could no longer speak without a rasp. Tony had forced oxygen into his lungs when he could, yet those bouts of panic that seized his throat so many times before had come back with a grip tighter than ever.

 Nebula mourned silently, her dark, ink-coloured eyes remaining closed as she listened to the sniffles and meek cries of her only two companions. Her heart ached for Gamora. For the motherly tone she'd so often use against her, or the sly grin she'd offer her sister when Quill said something particularly stupid.

 Her metal fingers had curled inwards with rage at her adoptive father; he had stolen yet another piece of her, only this time, he hadn't even the decency to replace it.

 She thought of the Guardians that had faded before her eyes; Quill, Mantis and Drax. She'd often deny feeling care for the rag-tag group she had settled into, but they were family. They had accepted her despite her wrong-doings, despite the foul creature that had raised her to kill, and now they too were gone. She could only hope that at least Groot and Rocket had made it... just someone.

 Emilia had straightened when Nebula had finally cut their silence. Her head hung low, a curtain of dull brown hair obscuring her surroundings as Nebula's low rasp dictated that they needed to leave.

 Nebula had landed with a deteriorating ship. A cluster of metal was missing from the side, probably torn away in the midst of her rushed landing. The inner workings of the ship were somewhat fried and refused to work; yet with the three of them, they were all certain they could find some way to get it working once more.

 Tony — with the help of what little was left of his suit — and Nebula swiftly got to repairing the ship; sparks flew and tools smacked against the metal. Tony would call out to Emilia who sat silently on the ground, watching them work with little interest and request for her to lift parts, bend them or even break them with her abilities, and she did so without a word.

 Rippling blue would encase the metal, unrelenting as it cried out in protest whilst she bent it into shape. Her hands would form tight balls as she curled pieces in upon themselves, forming wonky screws and placeholders. It worked, eventually.

 The ship had stuttered back to life, and a rare air of victory had jostled them by. It was short-lived when Nebula had checked their little resources. There was scarcely any food or water, oxygen levels were low and would likely last them three weeks at most... Above all, after just forty-eight hours of flight time, the ship gave up and left the three of them drifting in space with no idea how to return home, and no idea of who they'd even return to.

 Emilia had found herself perched on one of the pilot chairs overlooking the vast expanse of Space that taunted their every moment. She felt selfish for wishing it'd swallow them whole; the pain, the bouts of numbness, the tears... It was too much, and she was too tired.

 Everything was monotonous, every movement she made, every breath she took. Emilia wanted one thing, one person, and they were gone; now she was wasting air, stealing it from Tony who had the chance to return to Pepper, if she had made it. God, Emilia hoped she had made it.

 But Emilia had nobody. Perhaps Bruce and Wong, if they'd survived, would greet her with saddened smiles and looks of pity... As bad as it may have sounded... she didn't want them; she didn't need them.

 Tony had guessed which thoughts had been swirling around in her mind, that much was obvious. He'd hold out a bag of food, silently begging for her to eat... she never did.

 She'd pick here and there, but it was never enough and he could see the bones of her wrist, the way her ribs poked out, how her cheekbones cut through her skin and made her kind, rounder face seem gaunt and bleak

 He'd noticed it easily, the longing to join those they had lost. He'd heard everything when Stephen Strange had left half of his heart behind as he vanished from their sights. He'd heard the guilt in the wizard's voice, the ache that cut through the air.

 He'd heard Emilia's pleas, one's that were not unlike Peters. He'd heard Pepper in her voice, in her guttural screams and his heart had lurched for his fiance.

 Now, as they suffered through what would be their final night with oxygen filling their lungs, he glanced over to Emilia. She sat as still as a statue with her bony legs pulled to her chest. Her pointed chin rested on her knees, dull eyes watching the stars that glinted around them.

 But there was something about her expression that was different this time. A smile. A small upturn of the lips that made her look serene, relieved. He swallowed and tore his eyes away from the woman who awaited their deaths with familiarity.

 Emilia didn't know she was smiling. She could barely feel the movements her body made anymore, yet when Tony cleared his throat, she turned her head. Her unharmed temple came to rest against the back of her seat as she watched her two companions play a mindless little game.

 Tony had been trying for days to create new ways to bide their time, but it seemed that his favourite was a game of paper football he was trying to teach Nebula. Emilia had heard Nebula's questions about their game, her deadpan and serious tone almost making her want to laugh.

 Tony held a silver triangle within two of his fingers, eyes narrowed as he lined his shot. He flicked the aluminium and grinned as it passed the 'goal' Nebula had created with her two fingers; the woman grunted, her bionic arm reaching out as she tried to seize it from the air.

 Tony, with a carefree smile, pointed towards the woman, "You don't need to do that..." He brought his pointer fingers together, mimicking the goal that Nebula had abandoned, "Because you're just holding this position."

 Emilia wanted to smile, she could feel her taut skin, dry from salted tears try to stretch and make way for a grin, yet a mere twitch was all she could muster. It was as though she had tried to heave a set of heavy weights only to tumble back down.

 Nebula stared for a moment, her eyes boring into Tony's. She was certainly someone who had perfected an intimidating stare. Despite this, it'd been Nebula who had extended a hand towards Emilia. There was no smile on the blue woman's lips, no emotion on her face at all, actually, but even still Nebula had taken a seat on the cold, grated ground beside her and sat in silence.

 Tony had been doing whatever a stranded Tony Stark did whilst Nebula sat mutely for minutes on end, watching as Emilia blinked at nothing, as she stared at nothing and drifted into the tortuous images her mind played out like a movie.

 "I'm sorry." She had mustered in a single, quick rasp. It had snapped Emilia out of her daze, yet still no emotion stirred at her pained features.

 Emilia had blinked as she digested those simple words. They hadn't offered any solace, hadn't mended the cracks permeating her shrivelling heart but Emilia, even amidst her grief, wasn't a heartless woman. Her hand had reached out, stretching fingers causing the scabs on her knuckles to split and ooze once more. Her palm was placed upon Nebula's knee and she could feel the woman stiffen.

 She waited until the muscles beneath her palm had relaxed once more and cleared her unused throat, "So am I."

 It wasn't a response to reiterate her grief and mourning, to shine a spotlight on her own hurt. She had offered a look along with her whispered words, one that Nebula understood. They were both in pain, and Emilia could recognise that. She was sorry that Nebula had lost her family, but she recognised the way Nebula grieved and thus kept her pity within herself.

 "I'd like to try again." Nebula spoke, bringing Emilia back to the game between the unlikely duo.

 Tony's lips tugged upwards as he watched the woman narrow her gaze. He swiftly procured a piece of the folded aluminium and tossed it her way before tapping his pointers together once more, setting his goal, "Alright..." He mumbled with all the seriousness he could muster as Nebula scored her goal, "You feel the tension? Huh? Yeah, you do. All tied up. Fun huh?"

 Emilia shook her head as a small, amused breath slipped from her parted, cracked lips. If a stranger had been watching the scene playing out, they would have thought that Nebula would have wished to be elsewhere... Emilia, and even Tony, had noticed her changes.

 She was a tense person, muscles constricting whenever either of her companions would pass her by or draw close; now, Emilia could place a hand upon her shoulder and pass her by without Nebula so much as ticking under her touch. She trusted them; in such a short time... And this game Tony had made... Emilia couldn't believe Nebula had never participated in anything like it before.

 Tony lined his shot as Nebula constructed a goal for him and with a nod to himself, he flicked the piece of aluminium and groaned as it passed by the goal.

 "That was terrible." Emilia croaked from her uncomfortable position. Her neck was beginning to ache, whining at being turned at such an angle, but it was easy enough to ignore. The aches and bruises from the fight still set her body on fire, and the nasty burn decorating her face flared every few minutes. She cleared her throat, that ever-present, tight knot loosening just a little, "You better win Nebula, his ego deserves it."

 "Leave me, and my ego alone, please."

 "If we do that, your head really won't fit into your helmet."

 Tony gaped, his eyes flicking between the women before he shook his head, his hand smacking his heart with mock hurt. He waited a beat, allowing them to dwell within his astounding acting before bringing his wrist close to his face, "Day... Twenty-something and the meanies have decided to gang up on me. It's every man for himself in this milky way..."

 "Oh my god," Emilia groaned, yet even she couldn't deny the faint tug at her lips, "Nebula please take the shot."

 Surprisingly, when Nebula finally flicked the aluminium, it landed perfectly in the goal Tony had created. Nebula was stunned, inky eyes blinking once, twice, three times before she stared at Tony.

 "You won." The billionaire announced, his hands clapping together as his eyes crinkled at the edges, crow's feet etching deeper into his skin than usual. He held his hands out, fingers wiggling when Nebula didn't take it, and then she did. Her blue fingers enclosed around Tony and he offered a firm shake, "Congratulations, good sport, have fun?"

 "It was fun." Nebula responded, in a voice that remained as stoic as ever.

 Tony craned his neck to face Emilia, a smug grin tearing at his lips, "She thinks I'm fun."

 Emilia was certain her eyes had tried to roll into the base of her skull, "She said the game was fun. Not you, old man."

 "Old man..." Tony winced, fingers scratching at his mess of unwashed chestnut hair. His pointer got caught in a tangle, and rather than wrestle it, he tugged his finger free, "At least when the oxygen runs out, I won't have to worry about you putting me into a retirement home where they terrorise the elderly."

 "Oh, I wouldn't do that, Tones."

 "No?"

 "Nah... I'd find you a nice bush in Central Park... Maybe give you a blanket..." She trailed off, a hint of amused wickedness within her eyes, "Maybe not."

 "Meanie."

 The ship had settled into silence, and it had remained that way for what Emilia had assumed to be hours.

 Nebula fiddled with pieces of the ship, looks of longing cast to the pieces of metal that would come apart in her palms; Emilia was reminded every so often that the ship did nothing but remind Nebula of her lost family... Even the upbeat music that had faded into nothingness had once belonged to Quill.

 Tony had been occupying himself with whatever he could find; he could never quite sit still, even when their lungs were slowly being deprived of oxygen and their stomachs empty of food and water.

 Emilia had stayed planted in her seat, eyes glued to the twinkling stars that had once enraptured her... now all they did was remind her that she was nothing but a speck in the universe. A speck that had failed.

 Her body was failing her. Her throat seemed to whistle with every breath. Her stomach had ceased its growling, far past the point of longing for food; it too had given up.

 She stared down at her wrist, observing the bone that poked out, the way her fingers would cause her decaying muscles to ripple. Her skin had faded, a dusting of warmth had faded to a sickly ashen colour.

 There were no mirrors upon the ship, nowhere to really observe the state they were in, but looking at Tony was enough. His spine poked through the thin cotton tank he wore, his face resembled more of the skeleton beneath his skin with every passing hour. His eyes had become sullen, sunken into his head and his cheekbones rivalled... Well... they rivalled Stephens.

 That was the hardest part, with every glance at Tony and that beard that humour. Every word that left his mouth with sarcasm or smugness... She'd only think of Stephen Strange. They were so alike in so many ways, yet so very different.

 A shuddering breath tumbled from her sore lips and her fingers rubbed at them as her eyes slipped shut. She couldn't stop thinking about him, about what he'd left behind. It was weighing down her pocket.

 She hadn't placed the ring on her finger. She hadn't cried of happiness and joy like one should have when receiving a ring from the person they wanted to spend the rest of their life with... There was no life to spend with him, and to wear it would be a sick reminder that he had never even been able to ask her, to know her answer before he faded away into tainted winds.

 There was a sound behind her that made Emilia suddenly aware of the wetness that tangled within her lashes; she swiped it away like a fly.

 The familiar sound of metal against metal sounded out, and then the thud of somebody settling themselves onto the ground; it was like clockwork. Tony would swipe up his beaten and battered helmet and leave messages for his fiance.

 He'd apologize for leaving. He'd joke about his own impending death... Sometimes he cried, begging under his breath to see her one last time before he wasted away. He'd recite her looks like poetry, tell her of the names he'd thought of for their future children, where they could live. He wanted a cabin by a lake where she could garden instead of filling his office with succulents that somehow dried up under his care.

 He wanted a daughter and a son. He wanted to be better than his father. He wanted to be a father.

 The list went on and on, and Emilia often felt guilty for staying where she was and hearing it all. The one time she'd lifted herself with trembling arms and made to offer him some privacy, he'd simply muttered 'You can stay.'

 Tonight was the same as ever.

 Tony's boney hand reached out and lightly tapped at his helmet, fingers finding a button that lit the eyes of the helmet. A simmering blue washed over him and he had to squint against it.

 "Hey Ms Potts... Pep," He began with adoration in his voice, yet as ever, with each passing hour, a particular type of tiredness had crept into his tone, "If you find this recording... And all the others, don't post it on social media. It's going to be a real tearjerker." He sighed, back connecting with one of the pilot chairs, "I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're still...God, I hope so. Today's day twenty-one, no...twenty-two. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into the literal void of space, I'd say I'm feeling a little better today. Infection's run its course, thanks to the Blue Meanie back there. You'd like her. She's very practical. And only a tiny bit sadistic. And Emilia, she's kept me as sane as she could; you'd love her too, very you, little bit of Nat in her too...

 Anyway, The fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge. Bought ourselves about 48 hours of flight time. Problem is that was about...49 hours ago. Which means, we're dead in the water. A thousand light years from the nearest 7-11.

 Most of the quote-unquote 'food' and potable water ran out two weeks ago." Tony blew out a tired breath, "Pep, I know I said no more surprises. But, I gotta say, I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like...well, you know what it looks like."

 Emilia pulled her knee to her chest, thin arms curling around herself as her chin rested on her knee. Her lips had thinned into a line, a tense one that acted as a locked door for the sob that wished to be let loose like a wild dog.

 Her pain flared when she heard Tony profess his love; she wished she could do the same. She wished that Stephen was back at the Sanctum, worrying about her whilst she recorded silly little messages for him. And she wished that they would have eventually found their way back to one another.

 But that wasn't real.

 Tony and Pepper were real, and though Emilia ached, she banished those wishes away and replaced them with just one. Please let Pepper Potts be okay, for him.

 Tony rolled his shoulders as he cupped the helmet he'd donned so many times before. He pictured her then; pin-straight auburn hair trailing down her back, narrowed ocean-blue eyes that somehow scolded him, and adored him all at once... Her voice, the voice that had screamed in frustration, but had whispered reassurances of love into his ears.

 "Don't feel bad about this. I mean, actually, if you grovel for a couple weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt..." His fingers trembled, "I should probably lie down for a minute, rest my eyes. Please know, when I drift off, it will be like every day lately. I'm fine, totally fine. I'm going to dream about you." Tony paused as his lips wobbled and his heart pounded, "It's always you."

 Emilia swallowed the knot in her throat, the urge to reach out for Tony and offer him whatever comfort she could; there wasn't any. There was no comfort for a man who wished to hold his lover, yet only gripped at thin air. Emilia knew that well now.

 She turned her head after a few minutes of silence, her foot slipping from the chair as she caught sight of Tony sprawled out on the floor. Dread filled her heart. Would she have to watch him die too? Would she place two fingers upon his neck and find nothing but stillness?

 Emilia had meant to move, to stand, but it didn't work. Her legs had shaken and with a pained gasp, Emilia fell limply, uselessly, back into her chair. She threw her head back, slamming it into the chair as tears rolled down her gaunt face.

 Her weak fingers curled inwards, a small fist forming; yet no pain of her nails cutting into her palms occurred. She was too weak to even hurt herself.

 She was going to die. Emilia knew that, but however selfish it was, she wanted to be the first to go. To drift off in blissful darkness with no more weight on her drooping shoulders.

 Nebula stepped forth, a heavy heart pounding as she knelt beside Tony. Two blue fingers gently turned his face to the side and settled upon his pulse. One beat, two, three. He was alive, for now.

 Nebula met Emilia's wide, red-tinted eyes and nodded just once. That was enough for Emilia to sink back into her fair and stare blankly up at the metal above her. She didn't blink as Nebula carefully pulled the man into her arms, pulling him towards the free chair beside her.

 "Nebula?" Emilia meekly called out.

 "Yes?"

 "Thank you."

 Silence followed, just as Emilia had anticipated. She didn't think Nebula was one to hear those two words very often. She continued anyway, "Thank you for fighting with us, for... fixing this ship with us, keeping Tony occupied, helping with his infection, checking my burns..." Emilia finally met the blue woman's gaze and let a genuine, sad smile pull her lips wide, "Thanks for being with us."

 Nebula's hand reached out and hovered mid-air for a hesitant second before it gently came down on Emilia's shoulder. The touch was cold, her bionic arm sending shivers through Emilia's fragile form but she didn't pull away.

 "Thank you." Nebula spoke after a moment, "For being with me."

 "Of course." Emilia placed her own hand over Nebula's and patted it just once before the pair pulled back.

 Nebula observed her companion. The darkness nestled beneath her eyes. The sagging eyelids and the dazed, blank stare. She nodded, "Sleep."

 Emilia wanted to argue. She didn't want to settle into slumber because she knew what fate awaited her when she did. Cheekbones, a silly beard and cerulean eyes taunted her whenever she blinked, let alone when she slept. This time, however, Emilia didn't argue. She didn't thrash, she didn't yell or swat Nebula away as she'd done to her companions before... She accepted it because tonight she knew that it'd be the last of the nightmares and the final page of her sad little story.

 But unfortunately, that was not the case.

 Emilia knew that only a little time could have passed when a shimmering, almost blinding light seared into her closed eyes. There hadn't been enough time for the shapes within the dark to transform into her nightmares, and into her wants and needs.

 The light burned like the wound upon her face. Her eyes struggled to open, they flickered, opening and closing again and again until the light simmered enough for Emilia to see clearly. A figure was slowly coming to fruition within the light, closer and closer and then there she was.

 A woman was before them, and with a quick glance to the side, Emilia caught Tony gazing in wonder.

 The golden glow illuminated everything, and after days, weeks of being alone in the dark... The light was a welcomed guest, but Emilia also found her eyes watering as she squinted against its glow.

 The figure had come into clear view; a woman was smiling back at them, a lopsided and relieved grin on her face. Blonde tendrils of hair spewed around her like a halo. The suit that clung to her skin was something one might have found one of the Avengers donning; It was a deep navy blue with splashes of maroon, and at the very centre of her chest; a golden star.

 The woman outside the window stayed there for a moment, eyes roaming over the humans who stared at her with various looks of astonishment, relief... and even disappointment. She nodded once, disappeared from sight, and then the ship moved.

 She was carrying them home.

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01/12/2022

:･ﾟ★ we're BACK! who's ready for endgame? for PAIN? speaking of pain; how are we feeling about the sign-off gif? Stephen drained of colour? does it hurt?

don't forget to let me know what you think; and remember that i now require a particular number of comments and feedback before i consider releasing the next part. do NOT leave comments telling me to update; they'll be ignored and you'll be muted, much love <3