It was pouring heavily outside.
The rain pattered heavily against the windows of the Avengers facility, thumping and barely ceasing in numbers while nothing but the glares of light shone through the darkness of the storm. There was nothing outside for miles, not even a soul to be seen, and that's all it was. Emptiness in a place wanting to be filled.
It was weeks after they lost. The days leading up to now were the dark days, but this, for some reason, was the darkest of them all. Stiles couldn't tell if it was the way the rain or the ambiance of it or maybe both, but it did more than just dampen his mood; he felt lethargic. It seems that every day that passes seem to stretch even longer, and no one told him how restless he was going to be to find a solution to bring back those affected by the dusting. He wants to believe that there was a solution out there, that bringing them back was possible, but there were doubts clouding in his head. Every algorithm he's run on the computers were inefficient, and it's every day that his hope for getting them back diminishes.
They would have to create a feat that would break every law of physics, and there's only a sliver of chance that they can achieve that, and its a very minuscule chance. You would be more likely to win the lottery two times in row.
Stiles sucked in a breath, folding his fingers around his coffee mug and leaned back against the pillows to watch the rain from the windows. It's only been twenty-three days since three billion people and counting were dusted from the face of the Earth, and half of the universe was wiped. He doesn't know how many friends he's lost, but he knows that most of them were gone, his father included.
The wound is still fresh, and it's inevitable when he would heal.
The door to his room opens. Stiles inclines his head to the right, watching as Carol Danvers, the newest addition to the team, and Nick Fury's old friend, stepped inside and greeted him with a warm smile. Despite the state of the universe, Stiles and Carol became good friends in just the span of a three and a half weeks. It also helped that she had a sense of humor too.
"Hey," she greeted Stiles, closing the door behind her. "What have you been up to?"
"Oh, you know," his hand gesticulates toward the window with his other hand grasping the mug. "Just thinking about my life's decisions and waiting for nature to give me a sign telling me that I'm doing a fucked up job of keeping the world in balance. What about you?"
Carol slides her hands into her front pockets, shrugging her shoulders. "Just watching my friend rethink about his life decisions. I would tell said friend that he's doing a good job even if he thinks he isn't but he has the stubbornness of bull." As she smiled, Stiles turned away, trying to hide the uptick on the corner of his lips.
"Your friend sounds very hardheaded."
"He is," says Carol. "But he's a good guy."
"I bet he is."
Carol took a seat in the empty chair right across from Stiles and examined the way he slumped against the backrest. The bags under his eyes were darkening by the lack of rest he was receiving. She worries for herself. They've only known each other for weeks, but it's like they've known each other their whole lives, and Carol knows better than to brush it off. "When was the last time you slept?"
"What day is it?"
"Saturday."
Stiles looked heavenward, calculating the days he spent in the lab momentarily and came to a conclusion. "About seventy-two hours ago."
"Stiles." Carol gave him a stern look, "You need to sleep. You look like you're about to collapse any minute now, and I can't have Natasha or Steve getting angry at me when you faint from exhaustion."
"I can't. Not when Thanos is still out there with the stones."
"Thanos isn't going anywhere. We'll find him soon. There's always another day--"
"Tell that to the people he took from us," he mumbled, bitterly.
Carol snapped her mouth shut and pursed her lips together. She understands how Stiles feels and the anger he has toward Thanos and at himself for not finding him sooner. As much as Carol wants to promise him that they will find their solution, she can't give him false hope in a desperate time like this. "I know, I despise Thanos for what he took from all of us, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't kill ourselves in the process of finding him. As long as we're alive, there is always a tomorrow, and right now, you need to take that time to get your energy replenished and get some shuteye."
Stiles stares briefly at the blonde, and then snorts. "I can see why you're a Captain now." He stays put in his spot for a couple of seconds before rising up from the chair, "I will go to sleep. Soon. But I do have some work that needs to be finished down at the lab, and I'm pretty sure Bruce needs a hand before his brain starts frying."
"Speaking of Bruce, what have you guys been working on?"
"Theories," he stated, nonchalantly. "Algorithms, whatnot. We're also trying to find where Thanos disappeared off to with the stones."
She hums, nodding her head. "Don't crash and burn."
"Bold of you to assume I haven't already," he jokes and smiles to himself when Carol throws a small grin his way, and leaves the bedroom.
It's moments like these that he cherishes now, just small moments that shouldn't be much significant to him. He has had a real life changing perspective of the world and the universe itself when half the universe was wiped out, and he tends to make sure he's keeping these memories close to heart. It's weird how things have changed in a matter of years. Looking back at it now, he made stupid decisions at the peak age of sixteen; he was riddled with ADHD and barely had a verbal filter, but as he got older, he mostly grew out of his ADHD but there were times when it comes washing back to the surface when he's at his most stressed.
He was only a kid when he got himself into shit that no teenager should ever have to go through. Though, he realizes that it has prepared him for the long run.
He got through FBI training, spent some time on the team before he met Tony who decided that he was interesting enough to buy shawarma for, and became a member of the Avengers. He turned a new leaf and left his past behind him to pursue his own future; he wishes he regrets leaving Beacon Hills, but it was the best thing he's ever done.
He stopped abruptly when a woman nearly bumps into his chest as he turned a corner. It was Natasha. Her face shows obvious signs of concerned and worry, and Stiles hopes nothing horrible has happened to anyone in the facility. "Nat," he greets, surprised. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, but you should go check on Steve." He knitted his brows together, heart dropping in his stomach. Before he can get to assumptions, Natasha continues, "He's not hurt but he really needs your company right now."
"Where is he?"
"He's outside." Natasha places a hand on his chest and looks at him in the eye, "I would go comfort him but I think he'd rather want you there instead."
He thanks Natasha quietly and leaves to search for Steve. The man was standing in front of the doors below a roof that prevented him from getting drenched in the rain. The way he was clenching fists shows how frustrated he was.
Stiles pushes against the door, filing outside and stepping behind Steve. The blond looked over his shoulder to identify whoever followed him outside and relaxed visibly when he realizes it was Stiles.
"What are you doing out here?" Steve questioned, eyes flickering across the younger's face to find an answer.
"A little birdie told me that you were having a bad day."
"Natasha?"
Stiles nods his head.
"I told her I just needed a minute. She shouldn't have bothered you--"
"Hey," Stiles slides his hand over Steve's shoulder and squeezes. The blond looks down at his hand but he makes no move to remove it from his shoulder; instead, he places his hand over Stiles' and keeps it there. "She did the right thing. Even if she didn't bother me, I still would've come out here one way or another. What's going on?"
Steve closes his eyes and hung his head down. He doesn't hate the way Stiles can see through him; how he can break through his walls with a just a single look, and Steve would keep wondering how Stiles gets beautiful and beautiful each day. There's a light in Stiles that guides him through the darkness, and he didn't have to think twice before following. He doesn't regret spilling his feelings to Stiles and making him see sides of him, so raw, that he's never showed to anyone, not even Bucky. Stiles didn't even have to ask for Steve to open up to him, and he doesn't know if it's dangerous or not.
"I don't know what to do," he finally responded, carding a hand through his hair in agitation. "I thought maybe things would get easier, and we would be one step closer to finding Thanos and the stones, but it feels like every day is a set back. The world wasn't supposed to lose like this, Stiles, and we weren't supposed to let it."
Stiles frowned at Steve's words. He's usually positive about things, and when he truly believes something, he voices it. But this kind of doubt that drops from his tongue was different -- it's like a stab to the heart. He never thought he would see Steve feel like this. "We haven't lost yet."
Steve stopped, searching Stiles' countenance and looked for a meaning behind his words. For someone who was sometimes very negative in hectic situations, Stiles took the mantle of being the positive one in this situation. For years that he's known Stiles, he never ceases to surprise Steve in many different ways. "How do you know?"
"I just do."
Steve snorted, lightly. "I need more than that, you know?"
He didn't know how to put it in words. He can say so many things, but most of them wouldn't mean a thing. If he could show Steve how he knows they haven't lost yet, he'd shoot at the opportunity and broadcast it several thousand ways. However, words were all he has. "Just because we lost this battle doesn't mean we lost the war. Sometimes, we need a set back so we could figure out where we went wrong and fix it."
"And if we can't?"
Stiles exhales slowly. "If we can't then we're not doing the best we can. There's still hope out there for us to win this war, and when the time comes that we fight the final battle, we do it together. Not separate, not individually, but together. Like we promised to. And if we lose, we do that together too."
His words did resonate with Steve. He may not have uphold his promise before, but he'll keep it this time around. Stiles had a way of convincing him that they were going to see better days, and he believed him. Stiles was usually right about it. It didn't matter how long it would take to see the light at the end of the tunnel, as long as they get there, it's all he ever really needed. Hope.
"Remember what you also promised?" Stiles asked, an expectant look on his face. "We're in it..."
Of course, how could he ever forget the promises he made to Stiles and Bucky. It's a vow he would never break, and he would surely keep it... "Till the end of the line."