help me carry the fire (we will keep it alight together)

The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
M/M
G
help me carry the fire (we will keep it alight together)
author
Summary
Tony wields the Infinity Gauntlet. Steve watches.
Note
I was feeling sad about Endgame again, so I decided to write this drabble. No Sound but the Wind by the Editors inspired this fic.

A spectrum of light emanates from the gauntlet, bearing every color that is visible to the human eye. The sheer power of the gems is clear from the hand that wears it, shaking with enough power to destroy worlds and universes, and its bearer with it. It holds universes within, but then again, Tony always had the universe within him, a universe which yearned to be unleashed.

“Shut your eyes,” Tony demands, the suit melting away around him, yet somehow, he still remains, hung in the air, his eyes fiery with the entire data of knowledge in the universe— it should destroy him imminently, yet, he persists, willing everything they have lost into existence again.

“Shut your eyes, and look away.” His voice is somehow clearer than it was before, he is the most powerful being in the universe, but he will die. Whoever wields the infinity gauntlet will die, and Tony is only human. Steve doesn’t shut his eyes, nor does he look away.

“No,” He says. “Give me the gauntlet.” It only makes sense, after all, Steve will last longer, but most importantly, Tony will not die. This was never the plan.

“The world will always need Captain America,” Steve thinks he can almost see Tony smile, even though he is alighted from inside, filled with light. It’s beautiful, Steve thinks, but it will kill him. “It was the only way. I can see them, Steve. All of them. And they are coming back.” His voice comes from somewhere nearer now, as if he is talking inside Steve’s head, but it is faint.

Steve doesn’t dare blink, he cannot waste a second where he is not looking at Tony, because he could disappear at any moment.

“They are coming back.” Tony repeats, voice more shaky now, as if he is barely keeping everything together. The particles composing his body threaten to fall apart, alighted, suspended and full of contained energy. He could create and destroy universes.

At that moment, he is God. And Steve, he regrets ever believing in God.Tony throws his head back, two rays of violet erupting from his eyes, his whole body turns electric, lighted from the power within.

It should be impossible that he still keeps his consciousness, but Tony had always been impossible, uncontainable and most of all, stubborn. Out of this world.

Steve can’t touch him. It drives him crazy. He needs to touch him, but he is captivated by Tony’s sheer power, forced to watch from the sidelines as the universe consumes him. It’s like a watching an exploding star in its final moments, trying so hard to sustain its existence and solidity when it knows that it’s about to disassimilate.

“Steve.” Now his voice seems to come from every direction, as if he is talking down to the world from Olympus. It echoes everywhere, and captures its recipient from all sides, forcing him to obey. “I see everything.” The voice sounds delighted, and Steve wonders, just for a second, if Tony was always meant to do this. If he was too much for this world.

But once, he was Steve’s. And now the universe is going to claim him.

“I see everything, yet I still love you.” Tony says, the violet encompassing him now. “I love you, Steve.” And with a final soundless blast, the violet consumes him, the stones disappear, and Tony is no more— only sprinkles of crystal hung in the air before there is another blast and the particles come together again, Tony dropping from the sky with a thud.

Steve barely hears himself shout his name, and he knows, knows, knows that Tony is dead, but he cannot stop himself from hoping that there might have been a reason that Tony did not disappear into the universe.

“Tony.” He chokes, kneeling before him and cradling his head on his lap, and Tony’s eyes are wide open, staring into nothingness when they still retain their warm brown fluidity. He is dead.Maybe the reason is that Tony wanted to leave him something to mourn with.

Steve does not cry. He cannot cry, because this isn’t simply a loss of a loved one. This is a loss of everything. Tony had saved everyone, but Steve had lost everything.

Tony was his everything, and now he was gone.

He picks him up bridal style, and walks away. They are in the middle of nowhere, so Steve isn’t sure why and where he is carrying Tony.

“I love you. I love you.” He repeats, incessantly. To love something and for it to not exist anymore, is not something he will ever comprehend. Tony, so full of life, destroyed by the very things that defined him. Knowledge and light. So, so much light.

Tony, before him, eyes full of tears, asking him to stay.

Tony, yelling, eyes full of fiery anger, telling him he never wanted to see him.

Tony, on his lap, a playful smirk on his full lips, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Tony, under him, his shield so close to hurt him, a fearful look in his eyes as if Steve would ever hurt him.

And most of all, Tony, now, lifeless in his arms.

Steve was going to wield the gauntlet. They had planned it, and Tony said it made sense. Steve could hold out longer, and he would die, but he had a better chance at survival, either way. Tony had lied.

Tony died so he wouldn’t.

But life meant nothing, not after he watched Tony die after he held the whole universe within. The sun, on whatever planet they are in, seems to shine brighter, full, it seems fed.

The universe has Tony, now, and it is content. It must have resented having a man so full of life, more so than itself, that the only solution was to consume him and the light he held within.

Tony’s soul is not enough, either. Steve’s arms suddenly feel empty, and Steve looks down, only to see crystals falling on the sand, disappearing into earth.

The universe is possessive. It leaves Steve nothing.