Tony stumbled, collapsing on the ground with his back against a piece of rubble. A piece on the facility he'd thrown a lot of money, time and thought in. Pieces were all that was left. His body was alight with pain, but he felt numb. He knew what he'd done, and, in some way, he'd known it was going to end like this. He was going to die. So many times he'd escaped death, even when he was right on the doorstep. He supposed this time, he wouldn't be so lucky. Because the universe just loved Tony Stark, didn't it?
For so long, he was completely okay with dying. He had nothing to live for, anyway. And now, when he'd finally found a family, a home, a reason to live, it was all going to be taken away from him again. After five years, he'd found his kid back. It was all he'd wanted for five years. All those nights waking up in cold sweat and Peter's name on his lips, wishing he could bring him back, so his family could really be complete. And he'd succeeded. He'd brought back all of those who were lost. All they had to do then was destroy Thanos' army.
But, of course, that didn't work out quite the way Tony had planned them. Of course, he was the only one with the idea of stealing the stones. And of course, because he loved the world that had never loved him back, he'd snapped his fingers. He'd thought about what he wanted through the blinding pain and of course, he'd succeeded.
And of course, it would kill him. Because no matter how much he'd done to right his mistakes, no matter how much he'd fought to keep everyone safe, he knew he didn't deserve a happy ending. He knew he didn't deserve to live out his days with his new-found family and grow old with them. He knew that, he really did. And he'd accepted that, probably years ago. But all he could think of now, as he fought to stay awake, to keep his head up and look his best friend in the eye, as he fought to filter through the words Peter was frantically trying to tell him, as he fought to speak his fiancé's name and as he wished he could kiss the heartbroken look out of her eyes, was that it wasn't fair to them.
All Rhodey had ever done was good. He'd taken care of him since he was a young, scrappy boy, too young to be in college and too young to be so smart and too young to be so broken. And he'd always been there, even when Tony tried to push him away, telling him he was fine, that he could do it on his own when they both knew he was lying. Always protecting him from his own thoughts, his own mind.
And Pepper-- God, Pepper. She'd put up with his shit for so long, never once complaining, and never leaving him as everyone else had. Proving time and time again that she was there to stay. That she wanted to take that next step with him, help him through the idea of a real relationship and actually having someone there to stay.
Speaking of staying...
"We won, Mr. Stark..."
Tony wanted to say something to him, he really did. But he couldn't find it in him. Speaking of unfair. He hadn't been able to say anything to him when the kid died in his arms. He hadn't been able to mutter a single word beside a broken "Hold me..." when he'd suddenly appeared right there, right in front of him after five years. And now, when it was him dying while Peter had to watch, he still couldn't get a word past his lips. This kid didn't deserve this. He'd lost his parents, he'd lost his uncle, and now he was going to lose him, too.
It's not fair, he whispered in his mind to whoever was there to listen. Please, it's not fair...
He thought about Morgan. His daughter. His baby girl. His world. The only thing that gave him hope when days suddenly seemed too dark, nights seemed too long and life just seemed too heavy. He would be there, her smile lighting up his entire world, taking some of the heavy weight of guilt off his shoulders. And he would leave her now. He'd leave her without a father, without a dad. No one deserved that.
Please, please! His mind yelled in agony and despair. It's not for me, it's for them, please! Please, I beg you...
He wanted to scream, to yell it to the heavens it's not fair, but he was just so tired... He wanted to sleep. Really sleep. Not the sleep he'd been getting for much longer than five years now. Not the light sleep with heavy nightmares, not the heavy sleep with even heavier nightmares and pure terror when he woke up. Not passing out like he usually did after a workshop binge, only to wake up a few hours later with just enough energy to grab a new cup of coffee and start the cycle again. No, he honestly felt like he could fall asleep and never wake up again.
He probably would fall asleep, and he wouldn't wake up again. He was just aware enough to realize that he was about to die. For real this time, no escaping it now. He wanted to give in so, so bad. It just hurt so much, he just wanted all the suffering to stop for once. He wanted to sleep.
"You can rest now,"
Tony gave in to the darkness, gave in to sleep.
But there's no rest for the wicked, right?
--
Peter saw it happen, the moment Tony's life left his body. He practically saw it rising up and floating off like in the cartoons. But Peter wasn't laughing. It wasn't funny. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. None of this was. There were so many other solutions, other people who could have snapped their fingers. Captain Marvel, for example. She was basically indestructible, right? Then why couldn't she do it? Why did it have to be Mr. Stark? Why was it always Mr. Stark?!
"You can rest now," Pepper had said. And it was as if that had been what Tony'd been waiting for. His gaze drifted from Pepper's eyes, gazing off into space. His head fell back as if holding it up was too much effort. His hand, which had been curled around his fiancé's on his arc reactor, fell down as the suit lost power and the blue light stopped glowing. Finally, Pepper's dams broke. A strangled cry rang out over the battlefield as gut-wrenching sobs emitted from her throat. Her head fell on Tony's shoulder, her shaking hand holding his head gently. Rhodey put his arm around her as tears of his own streamed in waterfalls down his face.
All around them, people were crying or in different stages of shock. Peter heard Steve's agonized yell from a small distance behind him as his blue mask flew through the air, obviously thrown in rage and denial. He saw him come closer, stopping just beside Tony's lifeless body. He fell down on his knees with a thump. Shaking hands reached out, slowly and gently closing the usually so lively but now no more than unseeing whiskey eyes. He dropped his head down on the man's shoulder and sobbed.
Peter crashed to his knees. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't accept it. Tears blended with the dust and blood on his face as he cried. And he felt alone. He felt so utterly, and completely alone. Never before had the universe seemed this big, and this empty. He'd been in outer space and -as beautiful as it was- he'd seen the emptiness of it. The never-ending nothing, stretching out into all corners of existence. But Mr. Stark had been there then. A familiar face, a strong hand on his shoulder to ground him and a reassuring smile that always made everything seem easier.
He would never hear that voice again. He'd never feel that reassuring touch, that strong hand on his shoulder to ground him when he felt like he was floating away, just an insignificant being in a whole universe of undiscovered secrets bigger than him, threatening to crush him under their boot. He'd never see that reassuring smile, easing all his problems. His sobs were ripping themselves out of his throat, his chest hurting with the force. He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it.
A hand touched his shoulder, but Peter didn't care. It wasn't the hand. It wasn't his hand. And it would never be his hand again.
Because Tony Stark was dead, and he wasn't coming back.
--
Tony Stark opened his eyes and breathed.
First, all he could see was white. Which, he had to say, was a nice change from waking up to the usual darkness. After blinking a couple of times, everything was still white. And that was just annoying.
Groaning, he sat up, reveling at the ease with which his body moved. Granted, age tended to lock you up in some places but never before had he moved like this. It was as if he was floating-- no, floating wasn't the right word. It was more like he was being carried, quite literally, by invisible but soft hands. Moving took no effort, breathing was no pain.
Pain.
Tony looked down at his arm, expecting to see burns. Instead, his eyes were met with smooth skin, rid of all the scars the years had left on them. He also noticed he was wearing different clothes-- clean ones, instead of the dirt and blood-clad ones he'd been wearing inside the suit. His jeans were comfortable and, well, white, and he was wearing a -surprise!- white blouse.
"Huh," he muttered intelligibly.
"Wise words, Stark," a voice sounded from behind him. Tony froze. Very, very slowly he turned around. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes caught hers.
"Nat..." he breathed, knees feeling suddenly weak. Natasha approached him, a genuine smile gracing her lips.
"Hey Stark," she said easily. "Missed me?"
Tony couldn't help it. He laughed.
It felt good. He'd forgotten what it felt like to laugh as if nothing else mattered, to laugh with full lung capacity, instead of burning lungs against the cold metal of the arc reactor. He laughed until tears were streaming down his face and he actually had to sit down to catch his breath again. And even then he couldn't stop smiling.
Nat joined him, an easy smile still on her lips.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
Tony looked at her, intelligent brain working overtime to try and find a way around the inevitable truth, but ultimately coming up empty.
"What does?" He asked, voice surprisingly soft and gentle. He knew the answer, but he asked all the same.
"Heaven."
Tony looked down at his soft, unscarred hands. He couldn't bring himself to be upset. To freak out, claiming that he didn't want to be dead yet. That he never intended to die so soon, let alone go to heaven. No, all he could feel was peace. A certain feel of calm rushing over him like a tidal wave, keeping him under. He knew he should be worried. And maybe, in some deep part of his mind -or maybe his heart- he was. Because he'd left a family behind. People, good people, who didn't deserve to have to battle on without him. People who needed him.
But he felt so at peace here. His mind, his always racing mind, was still. His usually tensed muscles and forever aching body was relaxed. When he flexed his fingers, he could feel soft sand slipping between them as the waves rushed up to meet it, softly tickling his toes in the process.
And when he opened his eyes, a blue sky was the first thing he saw. Then the most beautiful sea he'd ever seen, rid of all the mess humanity had dumped in it, rushing up and gliding down the white sand of the beach. And Nat. Beautiful Nat.
Her eyes were closed, head tilted up towards the sky to feel the pleasant heat the sun offered, her hair a fiery red flame in the wind. She was relaxed, legs crossed and weight on her palms as she leaned back in the sand.
"I've watched you, you know?" She said softly, still not opening her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"I've seen the battle from here. If you ask nicely, maybe they'll let you see them."
"Who?"
"The stones." She finally opened her eyes, turning her head to meet his gaze. "They'll allow you to see your friends, your family, Tony."
Tony thought about this. Was it a smart idea? Wouldn't he want to go back once he did? Feel the rage he'd felt moments before his last breath? Could he handle the crushing disappointment when that option would inevitably be denied from him?
"Will they see me, too?" Was the question that eventually made it past his lips. Natasha shook her head.
"No," she answered softly. "They won't. But it might ease your conscience."
This time it was his turn to shake his head.
"No, it won't. Because if I see them I'll regret leaving them in the first place. I know they'll miss me. And once I see that I'll miss them too. I don't know if I would be able to live with that," he confessed. A knowing look appeared on Natasha's unguarded face.
"I understand," was all she said.
But Tony felt he was lacking the easy, peaceful feeling from before. His mind started forming thoughts again as if booted up from standby. He thought back to his family, the people he'd risked and, in the end, sacrificed everything for. He thought of Pepper, Morgan, Peter. Of Happy and Rhodey, Bruce and Thor. His mind wandered to Nebula, who he'd come close with since Titan, since their time in the void of space. He even thought of Steve, who, no matter how he'd tried to hate him after his betrayal, still meant so much to him. He thought of Clint, of how unfair it was that his prank buddy was stuck down there, mourning the life of a loved one while he was up here, sitting on a beach with the one he was missing. He thought of Barnes, wondered if he was doing well after the BARF therapy he'd provided to Wakanda to help him and the new arm he'd helped design.
Generally, he thought about home.
"Tony?" Nat's soft voice shook him from his reverie as he lifted his head to see her kneeling in front of him. Her gaze was still soft, but there was something else swirling in those dark, calculating eyes. He noticed shock, confusion and maybe just a hint of sadness. Her hand lifted to his cheek, and then he noticed it was wet. He was crying.
"I miss them," he chocked out, his brain finally catching up on his emotions, a lump forming in his throat.
"Oh, Antoshka," she murmured before pulling him in her arms. Tony couldn't help but cry in her shoulder, knowing just how very wrong this was. He was in heaven. He was supposed to be at peace, without pain, without sorrow. Right? Or had literally every single philosophy about the afterlife simply been lying?
Then again, it's not like someone could just go in and check.
"Anthony Edward Stark."
Tony lifted his tear-streaked face from Natasha's shoulder to see six bright lights in the air in front of him. The stones... he thought, slightly dazed. The yellow stone -soul stone, he remembered- lit up brighter as it seemed to speak to them.
"We have noticed your sorrow. Before you came, and now, after you've entered. We heard your cries, listened to your pleas. We have come to realize that it is not your time yet. We have conversed and debated, and we have come to the conclusion that you do not belong here-- at least not yet. We-"
"Yeah, yeah, can you hurry it up a bit?" A different voice cut in. Blue lit up a bit brighter as its voice was laced with irritation. "I ain't got all day."
"Technically," Power cut in, "you have infinity."
"Technically, no one asked for your opinion."
"Oh, just shut up!" The soul stone cut in as it heaved a sigh. If stones could sigh.
Well, stones don't usually float, glow and talk either so ey, why not, right?
The soul stone seemed to clear its throat (however that worked).
"Right, where was I? Ah, yes. Anthony Edward Stark, son of Howard Stark, son of... um-"
"A bitch?" Time supplied helpfully.
"Right, that. We have conversed and debated, and we have come to the conclusion that you do not belong here. We cannot keep you here, as your time has not yet come- ah screw this. Ey, buddy, we're gonna send you home, that aright?"
Tony blinked. He was smart, no one could deny that, but even his brain short-circuited when listening to literal glowing pieces of rock bicker with one another. He looked at Natasha, who shrugged.
"It's what you want, isn't it? What's keeping you here?"
"Not what, who." Tony grabbed her hand. "I can't leave you alone here, Nat. You're just as much a hero as I was. You deserve to go back, too."
"The stones offer you a way out, Antoshka," Natasha said gently, rubbing circles over his hand in a calming matter. "Not me. I can stay here, it's alright. I promise."
But Tony shook his head. Again, the voice in the back of his head was screaming as he stood up to face the stones. Not fair. It yelled. It's not fair! She doesn't deserve this, she's a hero!
"I'm only going back if she's coming with me. At the exact same place, at the exact same time. I want her by my side, you understand?"
"We can not-"
"I don't care!" Tony interrupted the soul stone, knowing it was going to deny his request. "You can get me out, you can get her out. As you said, you can't keep me here. You have to let me go back. And I'm only doing that if Natasha is going right with me. Period."
None of the peace he'd felt when coming here was left as he crossed his arms over his chest, showing the stones that he was serious. Natasha gave her life so that they could succeed. If it hadn't been for her, half of the universe would still be dead and Tony's sacrifice wouldn't even have been made. Tony couldn't have been a hero without her being a hero first. Tony couldn't sacrifice himself if Natasha hadn't sacrificed herself first. So Tony wasn't going back if Natasha wasn't confirmed to come back with him first.
"We agree to your terms."
--
"I love you 3000."
Pepper watched as the recording stopped and the image of her husband disappeared. She couldn't help but smile sadly. Of course, he'd seen this coming. And she figured that, in a way, she'd seen it coming, too. Tony was too good for this world, even when people refused to see it. When given the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to give his life and all he had to save those he loved. And she knew that if he hadn't, he would never have been able to live with himself. He wouldn't ever have been able to rest.
But she couldn't help but find it unfair. It wasn't fair that the world had never given him what he deserved. It always took, and it took, and it kept taking. Meanwhile Tony kept giving, giving, giving all he had. She'd seen him at his lowest, at the point where he had nothing left to give. When the tears had streamed down his face as he yelled up at the universe that he had "nothing left! You've taken it all. Are you happy now? Now that you've taken him from me too? When will it ever be enough for you!". And she'd kept loving him, kept holding him, showing him that she was still there. He hadn't lost it all.
It had seemed like the universe had answered their prayers. Because Pepper had gotten pregnant. She'd graced them both with a daughter, with new hope, a new reason to live for. And, of course, Tony had never been the same. Sleepless nights, panic attacks on a regular basis and moments when he just couldn't take it anymore. But they'd lived through it. Together. And when the opportunity came to get it all back, regain what they'd lost, of course, he'd jumped at the chance.
And of course, he had to suffer the consequences of that decision. And that just wasn't fair.
Pepper held her daughter's hand, a bouquet in the other, whilst trying to hide her tears, hold in her sobs and be strong for her little girl. But as they put the arc reactor in the water, and the words 'proof that Tony Stark has a heart' faded from view, she couldn't help the tears from falling. She held Morgan close, knowing full well that the young girl didn't understand, couldn't understand what was going on, why her Dad wasn't coming home.
Not fair. Her mind whispered. Not fair, not fair, not fair!
"It's not fair..."
"No, but then again, when is it?"
Pepper swore her heart stopped beating for just a second, her head whipping up because she knew that voice! That voice that could soothe her after a stressful day, the voice that could be the cause of a stressful day, but, most of all, the voice she'd fallen in love with. The voice she'd lost, the voice she thought she'd never see again.
The voice that belonged to Tony Stark, who was standing right there, right in front of her.
"Tony..." she breathed. There he was, dressed in full white, young and unmarked. Smiling as she'd never seen him smile before. Eyes shining with mischief, happiness, and new life.
"Hey, Miss Potts."
That's when the dams broke.
Sobs escaped her chest as she reached out, hands tentatively touching his chest, his shoulders, his face. He was real. He was there. She felt his heartbeat underneath her fingers, felt his stubble tickle her palm. He was there, and he was alive, breathing, heart pumping like it was supposed to.
"Tony..."
She was about to throw herself at him when someone else beat her to it. Tony stumbled slightly, almost falling in the lake at the sudden impact-- also known as Peter Parker. His arms were around Tony's chest, legs around his waist as he buried his head in the crook of the man's neck. He was crying, muttering Tony's name over and over and over again like a mantra as he clung to him. Tony smiled, his own arms circling around the boy to hug him back just as tight.
"I'm here, Peter. I'm here."
Pepper, unable to control herself any longer to wait for Peter to be finished, wrapped her arms around them both, kissing his cheek as he smiled a radiating grin at her. Pepper was content to stay like that forever, but Tony was beginning to turn just a bit blue so she wiped her tears away, kissed him on the cheek one more time and gently pried Peter off her husband.
"Let him breathe, Peter." She laughed wetly. Peter reluctantly let go, looking at his mentor with awe and tear-filled doe eyes as if he'd-- well, you know. Come back from the dead.
"Daddy?" A small voice sounded from behind Pepper. Tony froze, breath hitching as he turned to face the small girl. He seemed to entirely melt at the sight of his daughter, a grin breaking free as tears filled his eyes.
"Hey, Maguna," he whispered, sinking through his knees as the little girl approached him slowly. Peter stepped away, wiping away his tears as he watched with fascination in his eyes. He'd never seen Tony with his daughter before, Pepper realized with a smile. She knew how soft Tony was with his daughter. It would've been a shame if Peter had never gotten to see that.
Morgan walked towards her Dad, stopping right in front of him. Her curious, intelligent eyes assessing him.
"Why didn't you come home?" She asked softly. Tony smiled sadly.
"I had to pick up a friend," he answered as a hand appeared on his shoulder, Nat grinning easily at the child.
"Hey, little genius," she greeted. Morgan looked back at her Dad.
"Are you gonna leave again?" She asked softly. Tony shook his head even before she finished asking her question.
"No, honey. I'm not leaving again for a long time, alright? You're stuck with me."
Morgan took a running start before jumping in her Dad's arms, her head buried in his neck as his hand came up to cup the back of her head, whispering soothing nothings in her ear. Over her head, Tony caught eyes with a dumbfounded Peter. He winked.
"It's been a long five years," Pepper chuckled as she put an arm around Peter's shoulders. Behind them, Clint was pushing through the crowd before throwing herself at Nat, unashamed tears streaming down his cheeks. Harley walked towards Tony, who gave him a once-over, told him he missed the kid's baby face and hugged him close. Happy pushed the kid aside to crush his friend in a bone-crushing hug, mindful of the four-year-old in his arms. Steve stepped up next, seemingly a bit hesitant until Tony broke the ice and pulled him in, too. Behind them, the crowd had quickly gone from grieving to shocked to tears of happiness as they took turns welcoming back their fallen teammates.
"And I feel like we have some longer ones ahead of us."
And, for once, that was fair.