It starts with Natasha and Tony side-by-side; ending it together, starting it together.
“There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else,” Natasha says, eyes wet with unripe sadness because she knows Tony carries sacrifice like a burden.
“Couldn’t let you upstage me.” Tony’s lips twitch upwards.
She punches him in the shoulder while rolling her eyes.
“Ouch. I’m old, Nat.”
“Shut up.” She pulls him into a hug, and they cling to each other. Natasha eventually pulls back, sniffles as she wipes at her cheeks. “We’ll be okay,” she says; confides, hopes.
“We’ll be okay,” Tony agrees, nodding.
He doesn’t know what it says about them when they get the chance to re-meet so many old loved ones. Tony sees Maria and Howard and cries as he clings to their shoulders, presses kisses to his mother’s smooth cheeks.
He doesn’t know why he’s surprised that he sees their younger versions. Not the ones that were murdered, but the versions he hadn’t had a chance to know—back when they were still people and not yet family.
Maria cups both of his cheeks in her palms, lips on his forehead, and whispers, “I’m sorry it came at such a cost.”
And what a horrible thought, that Starks were always meant for early demise. Tony hopes with every fibre of his being that it ends with him.
“I’m proud of you, Tony,” Howard says, a hand on Tony’s back.
Tony shifts away, looks at him, studies him and sees—exactly that: pride. He nods.
Then Howard pokes him, the moment gone but not forever. “Seriously? Howard Potts?”
Tony laughs, feeling something unknit in his chest. They’re not okay—far from it, but they have an eternity to heal. “Yeah, not my best.”
“I thought you were a genius, Sir.”
And Tony stills, because that voice— “Jarvis,” Tony breathes.
Maria and Howard step aside so Tony can see Edwin and Ana Jarvis, and he feels his eyes flood again.
“I missed you so much,” Tony whispers when he hugs them.
“I’m glad it took us this long to see you again,” Ana says, smoothing the grey strands at his temple.
Tony, like everyone else, was offered the option to choose his age, but it doesn’t seem right, because this is the way Morgan will remember him.
“We’re proud of you, Sir,” Jarvis says.
Tony thinks he’s all cried out until he meets Yinsen and his family. Yinsen’s smile is so warm, and open. “You didn’t waste it,” he says softly.
Nobody new joins them for a while. Tony’s glad, in a way, because that means everyone else they know are still experiencing life; enjoying it. Making good use of their sacrifices.
Every day they walk the perimeter together, sharing secrets and childhood stories and fears they had. Hopes for people they left behind. They watch the waters below to keep themselves updated, entertained. It’s hard, sometimes, especially when Tony sees Morgan, sees Pepper—sees Peter.
Everyday walks turn into weekly, then monthly. The longer they stay, the more they leave.
Natasha and Tony eventually settles into their new life. Howard looks at them like unruly kids, shaking his head with fondness.
Natasha and Maria get along far too well, and when Natasha starts teaching Maria how to fight, Tony doesn’t know whether that’s a good or bad thing.
Sometime after, Pietro shows up—shows his face, more like, because he’s been here longer than the both of them. He nods at the both of them when he first sees them, and Tony smiles.
.:::.
It’s barely a decade later when Steve appears. Tony and Nat are already waiting, because this—this is something that they knew was coming. It makes it easier to welcome new souls.
They’re at the pond where new souls appear. The design changes every once in a while—when Tony had come, it was a beach. Now there’s a pond, stones surrounding the edge of the pond. There’s a bench that they’re sitting on, watching the fish swim lazily.
Then Steve appears, barely a full, solid figure before Nat nudges Tony with her shoulder, When he looks over to her, she nods in Steve’s direction.
“Go,” she says.
Tony smiles, getting up from the bench. He barely has time to gather his own nerves before Steve’s solid in front of him. “Hey, Cap.”
And Steve stills, eyes frozen on Tony. “Tony?”
“Yeah, I’d be surprised to see me too.”
“Tony.” Steve is hugging Tony in an instant, barely leaving room for the man to breathe as his arms wrap around tighter. “Tony.” He pulls back, studying Tony’s face, his arm—wants to make sure he’s fine because the last time he saw Tony… Well, it feels like an ache that never goes away.
“You’re here,” Steve says when he lets go.
“I am,” Tony says softly. “Gotta say, that bearded look looks good on you. Why didn’t I get to see that before?”
Steve laughs, and relief lifts the heavy weight in his chest. “Didn’t seem right.”
“Oh, but it’s right for the afterlife?” Natasha stands to the side, smirk on her face.
“Natasha,” Steve breathes out.
“Steve.”
And they’re both hugging, and Tony isn’t quite sure which one of them made the first move.
“You’ve got a lot of people that want to meet you,” Tony says into the quiet moment when they’ve pulled away from each other.
Eyes shining, Steve doesn’t do anything but nods. “I’ll bet.”
“You alright?”
He smiles. “I’m home.”
Tony chuckles, reaching out a hand. “C’mon.”
Steve stares at it for a couple seconds before he takes it. “Lead the way, Shellhead.”
.:::.
It’s years.
It’s years and another decade and Clint arrives.
They’re in a hedge garden, green animal-shaped hedges towering over them.
Clint stands there, him and Natasha, always Natasha and Clint. Then Natasha smiles, and they fold into each other, clinging. There’s desperation in their touch, to prove to each other that they’re here .
“You idiot,” Clint says, and leans down to press his forehead against hers.
“I saved your ass.”
Clint chuckles. “Laura wanted to thank you. So did my kids.”
Natasha grins. “And that’s why you should always listen to me.”
Tony and Steve are on a bench near them, letting the two have their moment.
“Show me around,” Clint says.
Pulling back, Natasha gestures her head towards the two. “Might want to say ‘hi’ first.”
“Surprise.” Tony smirks, standing.
And Clint—his gaze moves between the two before it settles on Tony, eyes flashing with so many unsaid things; appreciations, apologies, recollections of Morgan and Pepper and Rhodey. “Tony,” is all he manages out.
“Hey, Legolas.”
The familiar nickname draws out a disbelieving, albeit wet, laugh before Clint stumbles forward and pulls him into a hug.
Tony returns it, just as tight as Clint’s. “You good?” he asks softly.
“Yeah,” he whispers. Drawing back, Clint wipes at his eyes, so sharp, so keen, attention moving onto Steve. “It’s good to see you, old man.”
Steve snorts. “Not so old anymore.” He gets up from the bench.
“You were. It was weird. Now you have a beard.”
“Right?” Tony says.
Steve sighs, expression fond, as he hugs Clint. “It’s a beard. You’ll get used to it.”
“Why do you have it? When did you have it?”
“It was a depression beard,” Natasha not-so-subtly whispers. She finds her place next to Clint, and he brings an arm around her shoulders. It’s so easy for them to fall back into what they had.
“Oh,” Clint says, “divorce beard.”
Tony snorts.
“Why do I put up with you?” Steve shakes his head, the question addressed to the three of them.
“You love us, Rogers.” Clint pats Steve’s shoulders. “Alright, now you can show me around, right? I wanna see what’s with these hedges.”
.:::.
With the four of them, Tony spends a lot of his time basking in their presence, idly fiddling with creations that he can conjure with his thoughts. He enjoys it far too much when Clint gets impressed, but the ability to summon things is determined by how long one spends in the afterlife, and Clint is simply too new to have the skill.
Clint’s smile falters at that reminder, but Tony challenges him to a paintball match and he and Natasha create the arena. The teams are—well, they’re skewed, what with Pietro insisting that he’ll play against Clint, no matter the numbers.
“That’s not fair,” Clint says. “He’s got super-speed.” He looks at Natasha, but she remains impassive.
“You are a sharpshooter, no?” Pietro shrugs.
“I haven’t been Hawkeye for a while.”
“Are your skills getting poor in your old age?”
Clint purses his lips. “This is a bait.” His eyes dart to the shelf where the guns are, before he growls, snatching one up.
Pietro cackles, pleased with himself.
He blindly flips the bird as he marches to the growing number of people sorting themselves into teams.
.:::.
Thor is… well, Thor takes a while. In between then, Tony reunites with Rhodey, Happy, Pepper, Peter. The day Morgan arrives, Tony feels like every scar, every ache he suffered was all worth it to see her again. He can’t help himself from pulling her in. “Look at you,” he breathes, and she clutches him just as tight.
“Dad,” she says. “Mom!”
Pepper embraces the two of them, then Rhodey and Happy and Peter join in. Tony brings them to meet Howard and Maria.
Steve gets to see Sam again, and then Bucky, after a while. Bucky is scared, so scared, when he realises where he is, but Sam claps a comforting hand on his shoulder; Steve stays by his side as he shows him around; Tony smiles when he sees Bucky; Howard shakes his hand; Maria presses a kiss to his forehead.
Bucky has a lot of people he seeks out.
When Thor appears, they’re in a golden throne room. It was like the ground shivered with anticipation to welcome this life, and Heimdall had sought them out, letting them know that Thor would be here in a manner of days. They’d met Heimdall before, met all the Asgardians; met Odin; met Loki twice before he claimed ‘reincarnation’ and they never saw him again.
The team stays back as Freya and Odin lead the welcome.
“How long do you think it’ll be until we see Bruce?” Clint asks. He peers over the balcony railing, into the pool below where rippling waters show them the man in question.
The four of them stay silent as they watch. They know, death comes for all, eventually, but the ache rears its head sometimes, and the void demands attention.
“He’ll come when he’s ready,” Natasha says.
“Friends!” Thor, probably not surprisingly, gathers all four of them into his arms and squeezes them, lifting them into the air. “It’s so good to see you all again.” When he lets them down, he pulls Nat and Tony into another hug. “I’ve missed you. You did the universe a great thing, my friends.”
“No love for us, huh?” Clint says, shaking his head.
“Hey,” Tony says, “maybe you when you sacrifice yourself for the universe, you can get a special Thor hug.”
“I’m already dead.”
“Excuses.”
“It’s good to see you too, Thor,” Steve says, having perfected the art of ignoring his friends after spending an ample amount of time with them.
There’s a feast, because of course there is.
.:::.
If waiting for Thor was long, waiting for Bruce is—there’s only so much waiting Tony feels like he can do. He paces by the waters occasionally, and he’s been here for so long he truly doesn’t know how long it’s been. The team join him; not once is he alone as he watches Bruce.
When Bruce arrives, he breaks down into tears and the team huddle around him.
“Welcome home, buddy,” Clint says.
Bruce laughs. “God, I missed you guys.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to outlive me,” Thor says.
Steve shakes his head, because he remembers watching the waters when they had made their stupid little bet, all those years back.
Bruce takes off his glasses, wiping them with his sleeves before putting them back on. “So that means I won, right?”
Thor makes a questioning sound. “Feels like you cheated.”
“How?”
“Because you had the Hulk. It wasn’t really you.”
“We were the same person for a long while.”
Thor shrugs. “Doesn’t count,” he decides.
.:::.
Even here, it’s not always perfect.
Hulk is unable to die. Permanently. Bruce leaves for long periods of time, and comes back for some. Each and every time, the team is there to welcome him back.
Tony dreams of long past lives, and wanders between halls and rooms, checking in on his loved ones. He thinks this world will disappear, because sometimes, his heart is so full of love and peace and thinks the scales will tip the other way. He seeks Thor out, at times like this, because Thor too, thinks it’ll all go away.
Thor runs his fingers along whatever place they create, like it’ll crumble before his very eyes, and it’ll empty the souls living here. There are times when he just watches, stays back and observes, like sight alone can keep them here and contained. He checks in on Natasha periodically; when he thinks Steve isn’t looking, he’ll stare at him; hands finding excuses to touch Tony, keeping him grounded; sits with Clint’s presence, sometimes with his family, sometimes not; and the times Bruce is there, they sit by the waters and talk.
“You know we’re fine, right?” Natasha says, once, when she catches Thor’s gaze raking across the room again. The room is an imitation of Tony’s lab, but it’s grown since its creation.
“I can’t be too sure.”
“You’ve lost a lot,” Bruce says. “We know. But we’re okay here.”
“We’ve been okay for a long time,” Steve adds.
Clint puts a hand on Thor’s shoulder, only reachable because Thor is sitting on the ground while Clint is on a chair. “We’re gonna be here for a long time. You can’t get rid of us that easily.”
Thor grins. “I hope so, my friends.”
“No more losing,” Tony says. He looks between the team, and smiles. “From now on, it’s just coming home.”