𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 — twenty twenty-three

━━━━━━━

 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 pass in the blink of an eye; it could pass by so quickly that one would struggle to understand just how they'd gotten so far. For some others, five years could drag on as though it were centuries; it could feel as though you were wading through thick honey and held back at every single turn, wishing that time would either speed up or cease to exist at all.

 For Emilia, it was the latter case. Time felt as though it wasn't progressing at all, as though each day was stretched to last a long and miserable lifetime. The only indication that time was continuing at all, was the face of little Morgan Stark.

 Emilia had been there for every milestone, every birthday; even the little girl's first word... Which happened to be DUM-E; one might say she was rather partial to Tony's inventions.

 But at the moment, time was nothing more than a heavy weight threatening to topple Emilia over. Nothing had helped her, no amount of distractions, no mission nor night off had allowed Emilia to feel as though she were... Real. She felt distant from everything and everyone, like a mere breath of air passing them by as people tried to live their lives in the midst of chaos.

 Helping people brought her some solace, a means of transferring her pain, guilt and anger into something productive; something she wouldn't hate herself for later. From assisting Bruce within a messy lab until he could command his body to expand and turn a ghastly shade of green all the while keeping his rage in check, to helping train new sorcerers within Kamar-Taj, protecting the Sanctum as best she could without crumbling at the very sight of it, and, of course, helping Tony potter around in a lab all while keeping the littlest Stark from getting her sticky little hands on his inventions.

 She felt as though there was a wall between herself, and those surrounding her.

 It might have become easier to deal with, the grief, that is. With Her lab partner back by her side as a friend she knew she could lean on, with Tony always cracking his sly jokes as a disguised form of care. Pepper had become somewhat of a crutch for Emilia, as had Morgan... But she still felt as though she was a mere passing moment in their lives, something that stayed stagnant, soon to be forgotten.

 Emilia's therapist had professed that Emilia was the cause of the distance; the one who was trying to protect herself from experiencing further loss. But Emilia was already too tangled in the lives of others for that statement to truly be accurate.

 If she lost any of them; Bruce, Tony, Morgan, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Nebula, and even Natasha despite the distant relationship they had, Emilia would feel it just as one would feel a knife to the heart. Distance hadn't worked, because deep down Emilia Clemente needed people, and she needed to be needed.

 Emilia Clemente was not a woman who could be alone, no matter how much she wished she could thrive in isolation. Her thoughts got the better of her, her mind would torment her and whisper awful things. She turned bitter, and that hidden anger that dwelled within her would rear its ugly head.

 People knew her to be a kind woman who did whatever she could for others; but that did not mean that she, like many others, didn't have a hint of darkness buried within her gut. She shunned it — hated it... But even she couldn't deny that it made her stronger.

 "Excuse me?" Someone tugged at the sleeve of Emilia's coat, breaking the trace she'd been sucked into once again. It seemed to happen more and more these days; one moment she'd be twisting the air around her, or watching as sparks poured from her fingers, and the next she'd be confronted with ghosts.

 Emilia hummed, glancing down at the light voice; it had been as sweet as honey, a mere mumble. A Little girl stood by Emilia's side — wide brown eyes that seemed to glisten like stars stared up at her with undisguised awe. There was a fluffy stuffed bunny in the crook of her elbow and some of its fur stuck together, no doubt from a mess she'd made at some point.

 The girl couldn't have been older than eight; she wore her delightful tight curls in two buns atop her head, her bronze skin had just a smudge of dirt just on her chin. She tugged again and smiled with more confidence as she displayed the gap in her teeth, "Thank you for fixing my treehouse!"

 Emilia felt her lips curl ever so slightly as she carefully dropped into a crouch. She pulled the sleeve of her dark coat over her hands and swiftly rid the child's chin of dirt, "You're quite welcome."

 Emilia, in her daze, had almost forgotten what it was she'd been doing; clearing some old street that people had forgotten all about. It had been run down, with crumbled pieces of cement littered on the cracked road. The apartment complex that had torn its way into the sky had been beaten and battered on the day they'd lost half the population; an out-of-control plane that was suddenly missing its plot had sliced through the building. The vehicle had exploded and taken lives with it.

 Now, the street corner looked as though nothing had ever happened. The apartment had no cracks, no holes, and not even a single shattered window. The paving was flat, devoid of any crevasses, and all crumbled pieces of debris were gone and out of sight. People who had been living with holes in the walls and no real protection from the elements finally had their homes back; a means of protection and safety. Emilia was only sorry she hadn't come sooner.

 It was easier now, to help those that looked to her for answers. A swift jolt of her fingers would cause bricks to pick themselves from the ground, a wave of the hand would send them back to their rightful place... and as Emilia curled her fingers inwards, clutching at the gravitons between each piece of material, bricks and cement would seal themselves together — as though they'd never been parted. Cracks that webbed over glass would seal shut, submitting to the tight hold Emilia had on it; she could reverse the damage that she hadn't been able to stop.

 But only the physical damage could be repaired. The home still housed framed pictures and paintings of faces that had been gone for five long years; she couldn't repair the memories that had been left shattered.

 The little girl grinned again, those little fingers of hers curling around her stuffed toy even tighter as she hugged it to her chest, "You know Iron Man, don't you?"

 "I certainly do, is there something you want me to tell him?"

 "Just..." The child shrugged her little shoulders, "Thank you."

 Emilia swallowed the lump that had suddenly sprung to her throat with great difficulty. Her calloused, dust-coated hand cupped the young girl's cheek, "He would say the very same thing as me, 'It's our pleasure.'"

 Emilia wanted to say it to every person she had met, every person that had stuttered a thank you as they stared at her in awe; it really was the least that she could have done for them. They'd never know that it was her that could have done more for them, that she could have been the one to prevent it all from ever happening.

 Her hand slipped from the little girl's cheek, "You better run along —"

 A pair of small arms curled around Emilia's neck, and the woman found herself stumbling amidst her crouch, using a hand to balance herself on the ground. She was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion; emotion she'd tried to keep buried in fear of finally snapping.

 "Thank you so much." The whisper was sweet in Emilia's ear as the girl nuzzled closer for a moment longer, before finally, she scrambled to pick up the stuffed bunny she'd dropped in her haste, "Sorry Mr Thumps."

 A slow smile crawled upon Emilia's lips as she stared at the girl with a fondness usually reserved for the tiniest Stark, "Mr Thumps?"

 "Uh-huh..." The girl seemed meeker, smaller as she clutched the stuffed animal close to her heart. Her wide eyes watered, "When daddy was taken, so was our bunny... His name was Mr Thumps,. Mommy said we could get another bunny but... But I didn't want another one, I wanted Mr Thumps back. I found him," She held the stuffed bunny high, "And Mommy got him for me to keep me company until the real Mr Thumps is back. I think they'd be friends."

 Emilia wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Until the real Mr Thumps is back. How she wished she could be a child with the blissful naive to think that everyone they loved would soon return to them.

 She wished she could fall asleep at night with only fond memories replaying in her mind, only to wake with giddy optimism and go about her day.

 Emilia stroked the stuffed rabbit's fur with a sad smile etched onto her face, "They'd be wonderful friends."

 There were some strict rules when it came to the Stark Cabin; No swearing around Morgan Stark, no inventions to be left lying around — especially at the dinner table, and all shoes to be taken off at the door, or before if they were covered in mud... and finally, the last rule was reserved for Emilia specifically ​​— no portalling inside the cabin.

 It might have sounded like an odd rule, one of little need, but after Pepper Potts had been scared one too many times amidst the night, she had banned the fizzling circles of sparks altogether. Emilia understood it completely, after all, there had been one night when she'd stepped through a portal, ready to wash her hands and retreat to her room, only to have a glass of frighteningly cold water tossed at her face. It seemed that Pepper had trailed to the kitchen for a drink, only for Emilia to be left saturated with water dripping to her feet and a smashed glass laying at her toes.

 This time, however, Emilia knew that Pepper Potts would be away from the cabin, leaving her husband and delightful daughter behind as she delegated roles within Stark Industries and did her best to navigate the charities and foundations that they were supporting throughout such troubling times.

 So, with no angry CEO to turn on her heel and throw an ice-cold glass of water into her face... or accidentally drop a glass bowl full of salad... Emilia stepped through a dazzling portal she had conjured with her mood still dampened from her conversation with the little girl.

 A heavy sigh slipped past her lips as Emilia snapped her fingers and banished the portal from her sights, promptly falling back onto the plush couch. A pillow was crushed beneath her fall, and a book topped from the armrest.

 She wanted her eyes to slip shut, even if it was still only early in the afternoon. The sun that blazed high beneath the flock of trees beside the cabin spilt through the window, a rather agitating beam glossing across her cheeks.

 There was that feeling in her stomach again; the one that crawled past her ribs, made her heart thud in an unsteady rhythm before it proceeded forth and clasped around her throat with an iron grip. The burning at the back of her throat hadn't subsided, and neither had the sharp sting that flashed within her eyes.

 Her chest stuttered as it heaved and Emilia began to count inside her head. One, two, three... Anything to bring her back to a miserable reality rather than dwell on the panic that swelled. Guilt and grief made a heavy breath slip through her parted lips, and her closed eyes clamped further shut.

 She almost fell beneath the waves. The water almost broke through her lips and trailed down her throat, drowning her... Before it could, however, she heard footsteps.

 "I'm telling Pepper that you portalled." Came Tony's voice as he planted himself against the door frame. He did his best to present an air of nonchalant teasing, but the line that had appeared between his brows showed clear worry; he knew pain, he knew grief and worry... He'd felt it, he still did, and he knew that Emilia was no better off.

 He'd been there from the moment Thanos had snapped his fingers; he had watched the way she spiralled... and yet somehow, grew. Whilst she fell and tumbled as nightmares clasped her windpipe and panic clawed at her gut, her power had grown and she had... changed.

 Then again, they all had.

 Emilia huffed, her chest rising and falling silently as she peeled an eye open. Her fingers clasped around a cushion, and with frightening accuracy, it was soon flying through the air and headed towards Stark.

 He batted it away, "I'm also telling her that you threw her favourite cushion."

 "She hates that cushion."

 "I brought it for her."

 "Yep." Emilia almost sang as she finally pulled herself upright, swiftly ducking as the cushion hurtled her way. It flew over the couch and landed with the lightest of sounds, leaving Emilia and Tony in silence once more.

 Emilia could hear the hurried thuds coming from the floor above; creaking floorboards mingled with the pitter-patter of Morgan Stark's steps. Tony had likely told her that if her toys were not back in their place, he'd haul Emilia into his lab and keep her there; such a bribe usually worked a treat.

 Emilia could feel her lips curl at the mere thought of the littlest Stark padding about with her tongue poking out as she organised her stuffed animals into a neat row.

 Tony caught the slight grin, of course, and felt his own lips tug into a smile as he listened to his daughter thudding about upstairs; he'd likely find another suit helmet or something else he'd carelessly left in the living room perched upon Morgan's bed... He'd have to hunt before Pepper got home and gave him that look.

 Then, as Tony finally parted his mouth to recall his day's events, a frown took over, "We had some visitors today."

 His tone was almost grave, cautious as though he were taking slow steps towards a beast best left unriled; Emilia's brows curled together as she assessed his fidgeting fingers.

 They had very few guests between the two of them; Bruce popped his head through the door once a week to greet Tony and Pepper; he'd hand little Morgan some sweets behind his back — whilst Pepper's eyes were elsewhere — and would often join Emilia on a slow drive back to the Tower. Nebula tended to stop by here and there whenever she could; still grateful for both Emilia and Tony's company back when they'd first lost their battle. Rhodey was always stopping by between the missions Natasha picked out for him; more often than not, he'd try to corral Emilia into joining him.

 Natasha stopped by here and there; after all, she had known Tony the longest out of the Avengers and the two seemed to share a deep relationship; one built on long-lasting trust. She would always throw on a smile as Morgan hurtled forth and pluck the girl into her arms. They'd run laps around the cabin, wrists hoisted into the air as though they were shooting with Black Widow's gauntlets.

 But Tony had never spoken of them in that voice. One that made him seem small, as though he wasn't the man who had built a company from the ashes of his father. As though he hadn't built intuitive suits from the ground up.

 The longer Emilia eyed him, the more his thumb picked at his pointer, the more he scanned the walls as though they had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. She relented curiously, "We had visitors?"

 Tony hummed as he tried his best to seem nonchalant in regards to the cornering he'd received from his old... from their visitors. His stare finally met Emilia's, "Rogers."

 Emilia sat up straight, her eyes narrowed. Steve hadn't bothered to visit the cabin even once; even after Tony had sent Natasha on her way with an invitation that had taken all of his strength to offer, "Steve came here?"

 "Put the claws away," Tony almost smiled at the scene; watching as Emilia's fingers curled towards her palm in an attempt to cool off. He'd caught her up on everything; from Loki's invasion to Ultron... To the Accords and the truth about his parents passing. She knew everything, and apparently Steve Rogers had left a bad taste in her mouth, "Nat brought him, Scott Lang too..." He scratched at his chin, fingers catching the greying stubble that resided there, "I think I told you about him; little-big man?"

 "Yeah, I remember... Didn't he disappear?"

 "Yes, but also no."

 Emilia's eyes rolled skywards, it was never a straight answer with Tony. Her fingers were tempted to toss another object his way.

 Tony shrugged, "It wasn't the blip that took him, apparently tic tac entered the Quantum Realm, the two who were supposed to bring him back, blipped, and he was stranded for all of five hours."

 Emilia nodded along with the explanation, hardly taking any of the words in; for the only question on her mind was why?

 Natasha visited once a month, and she had only recently shared a table with them whilst Morgan spilled spaghetti sauce on her lap. Steve hadn't made a peep to contact any of them; Emilia hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since they'd first returned from Space... And Scott Lang...

 "So why would Steve finally pluck up the guts to come here? Why'd he bring Scott?"

 A grimace tore at the skin of Tony's face; from the moment he had watched his former teammates disappear down the gravel road, he'd slumped in the chair and did his best to forget that they had ever approached him. A time heist; he almost scoffed again.

 To make a device capable of transporting them into the past, as well as figuring out a way home, was no easy feat. It was impossible. That fact had been cemented within his mind when Morgan had raced to the porch and linked her arms around Tony's neck. He'd held her close as he thought of every possible flaw that would come with Scott's idea. Losing Morgan. Losing Pepper. Losing Emilia, Bruce, Happy, Rhodey and Nat.

 He couldn't do it.

 But then he just had to make a mess in the kitchen and douse an old picture in water, didn't he? The photograph had felt like stone in his hands, an impossible weight resting in his palms. Peter Parker had been staring back at him with a grin on his young face.

 Tony's eyes had clamped shut as every memory of the boy came flooding back, it had almost knocked him off his feet.

 He had let those feelings simmer as he watched Morgan run around in the garden and cover herself in mud and grass. Her hair had been littered with blades of grass and flower petals; they had been a nightmare to pluck out.

 He had thought it would have been a good enough distraction; something that would let his mind cool down... Then Emilia had to trail into the living room looking as though she'd watched Stephen disappear all over again.

 He wanted to be selfish and keep Steve's visit from her, keep Scott's plan hidden like a secret; but that wasn't Tony Stark, not anymore. So Tony padded forth and took a seat next to Emilia, "Scott had an idea..." He faltered and a heavy sigh fell from his chapped lips, "To bring everyone back."

 Emilia truly felt as though her heart had paused. Her face had fallen, all concern for Tony and his struggle to speak had vanished, only replaced by the look that he and Bruce hated so much; indifference. It was a facade, of course, and they all knew it. It was her immediate reaction to anything that could cause her further heartbreak.

 She blinked once and mutely nodded her head, her fingers brushing away the chopped strands of dark hair that had brushed at her cheeks.

 "Scott thinks that we... Could go back in time, gather the stones again, and reverse the blip."

 It all sounded so idiotic; like a child's fantasy. They hadn't made peace with the fact that their loved ones were gone, but they had grown accustomed to it. They woke each morning knowing that they would have a weight on their chest, that pain was just something to live with.

 Emilia hated hope. She hated the disappointment that always seemed to follow; the inevitable crushing weight of failure and heartbreak. She picked at her sling-ring, eyes zoning into every little crack or blemish on the metal; she wanted to stand to her feet and walk away, to relish in the confines and isolation of her 'guest bedroom'. She didn't want to even ponder the possibility that she might get him back... because if they failed, it'd hurt far worse than the last time.

 They had come to the cabin in which two great minds often pottered about; so Scott was serious and genuinely believed them capable of making such a thing.

 "Tony..." Emilia whispered, eyes cast to the scar on her finger as her vision began to blur. Did she really want to agree and risk her heart cracking all over again? It'd be reduced from shards to dust. "If you want to do this, I'll help you. You know I will."

 "Yeah, you just can't say no to me, can you?" He responded with an elbow knocking into her arm. He elicited a small smile, but that was victory enough, "Do you want to do this?"

 "I don't want to think that we can do it, I don't want to believe that I'll see him —" A shaky breath blew through the air, "I don't want to fail. I don't want to hope for something that isn't possible."

 "You don't want to be disappointed."

 "I wouldn't be able to —" Emilia's voice broke as a sudden tidal wave of emotion settled atop her skin. The ring dangling on her collarbones suddenly felt as though it was surrounded by blistering flames; a harsh reminder of what could have been, had he not vanished before her eyes, "I wouldn't be able to handle it. Not again."

 She finished in a whisper so quiet that Tony had to lean closer, watching as her eyes blinked furiously to swat away whatever tears had likely begun to sprout.

 I wouldn't be able to handle it. There were many implications behind that one sentence, implications that brought a knot to Tony's stomach; it had been evident from the moment that Stephen had disappeared that he had been a crutch to Emilia, and vice versa, of course.

 It wasn't just their failure, it wasn't just Stephen vanishing that had brought Emilia to those ocean waters that threatened to pull her under and steal her breath; it was everything that had happened prior, too. Tony knew now of Emilia's beginnings; from poverty to a foreigner in America simply trying to earn a lab coat. He knew now that she had been there with Bruce when the Hulk had first come to fruition, that she had managed to survive the chaos that followed.

 He knew about the explosion her powers had caused and the ruin that befell her parents. He knew about the months alone with no company bar her own traitorous mind. She had told him of her time at the Kamar-Taj, her mentor, and how she'd met Stephen Strange.

 Everything seemed to build and bubble, and Tony knew... he knew that if they failed again, if all hope was quashed, she'd burst.

 "I can't live through that again." Emilia added as she slumped back, her head lolling to the side as her lashes brushed against her soot-smeared cheek, "It was hard enough the first time, I'm still just... just surviving, I won't be able to survive a second time, Tones."

 Emilia stood to her feet, unable to watch whatever emotion would pass across Tony's face; be it pity, sadness or even nonchalance; if he managed to upkeep his attitude. She, like Tony in a way, had to busy herself; her fingers inched towards the books piled on the bookshelf; each one mismatched and with a swallow, she plucked a few and organised them, all while eyes were burning into her back.

 Tony did his best to appear flippant; something he used to excel at, though now his facade seemed to have its cracks. He brushed a hand through the air with a shrug, "Well, this all depends on whether we can actually make a time... machine." The words still felt odd to say, "C'mon then Doc, let's go make that damn T.A.R.D.I.S... And if you call me Rose, I really will tell Pepper you portalled."

━━━━━━━

DATE: 16/01/2023

:·ﾟ★ AND WE'RE BACK. here starts the real plot of endgame, are we ready?

picture below is real, and anyone that says its fake or edited is a LIAR!!! (the more i look at it, the more horrified i become)

please remember to leave feedback & comments. i require a certain number of comments before i publish the next update. please give me a follow to keep updated and receive sneak peeks! do not leave 'update' comments, you will be muted.