The vastness of space had dreamed more than one person. It would be lie if Tony said he hadn’t imagined what sensations that would be to float in space, to feel closer of stars, to feel himself in total weightlessness. Child and teen, when he wasn’t immersed in physics’ books or electric systems, he often looked at the sky and, the day or the night, he dreamed about distant lands and unexplored planets who composed this vastness thing temperately named “space”.
A dream is a sweet period during sleep. And at every sleep, there are a revival. A revival can be a natural thing, like after a really good night, we slowly flutter our eyes and we wake up with some regrets to leave our quilt.
Brutal.
It was the best word to define what was the revival of Tony.
No doubt that he slacked himself with the peacetime’s sweetness. No doubt that he passed to much time in the arms of his spider, no doubt he too often kissed the young man, no doubt they said too much sweet words at the other. No doubt. He had believed that after all the events with the Avengers, after Steve’s treason, he would have his rest well merited. He would spend tranquil days beside his loved one.
Now that he stayed in the ground of a spacecraft in autopilot, who derived where only god knew where, he asked himself how he could have been so stupid. His life had yet taught him that the peacetimes was only created to render the war more brutal, more lethal.
He hadn’t any food, any water and soon no more oxygen. He knew that he will die, but he wasn’t scared. All of he can be thinking was his dead will bring reunion with Peter. If, of course, Heaven and Hell doesn’t exist, because Tony knew that they weren’t in the same place if it was real.
His throat was dried and hurt him. He hadn’t any ideas of time he had passed without drink any kind of water. At the beginning of his travel, if we can name this like this, he had counted with attention every hours and days. But now, he hadn’t any time’s notion. Had he drifted since six months? A year? A century?
« Peter. »
He stayed long minutes eyes lost in the space, watching some shinny points lit up and disappeared. He wanted to cry, tell his name was so painful. Peter, his Peter. He saw this moment again with all details: the supplications of his loved one, the fear in his eyes, the pain in his voice, his body’s dust flew away of his hands, his powerlessness.
« I hope you’re fine. »
Tony didn’t know what he said. It been a long time that he didn’t really search a meaning at what happened to him, at the world around him. He just let his lips, his tongue and his jowl made their job.
« I will die. I’ve only a few hours left, at least I guess. »
An alarm, somewhere in his ship, made a strident sound. But time and failings had too damaged this thing, so Tony didn’t really hear it. Just, his brain understood that this sound was the last of his existence.
« I love you. »