20. “Just hold on–you hear me? You’re not dying like this. Not here; not now!”
Feat. Tony and Peter (AND INFINITY WAR SPOILERS DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT. BY GOD. YOU’LL HATE ME IF YOU DO. YOU’LL HATE YOU IF YOU DO. DON’T DO IT.)
Tony stood, side aching, and looked around. Everyone else was... relatively unhurt. The Guardians - or whatever - were speaking in low, angry tones to their Star-Prince - or whatever. Peter was picking himself up a little ways away, and Strange was sitting not too far, catching his breath.
Suddenly, Tony could feel it. A change in the air… the atmosphere… He didn’t know what it was. He looked around, frantically. His eyes landed on the Guardians, and they had all stopped, also looking around. The woman - Mantis? - held onto Drax, shaky.
“Something’s happening,” she said, voice soft but carrying through the still air.
They all start to gather close, and Tony helps Peter up, bringing him over. There’s a moment when Tony thinks maybe the tension will pass. And then Mantis disintegrates, body blowing away in a cloud of fine dust. His breath catches and he watches as the other guardians follow.
Drax’s is slower, and he says, softly, more frightened than Tony could ever imagine him, “Quill?”
Quill watches, horrified, and then turns to the rest of them, at a loss.
“Steady, Quill,” Tony tries. He feels Peter becoming unsteady next to him.
Quill shakes his head, just a little. “Oh, man…” And he’s gone, too.
Panic rises in Tony’s chest, and he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to think or how to act. There’s… there’s no way to stop something like this.
“Tony.” Tony turns and faces Strange, who looks tired. Resigned. He knows what’s going to happen to them. Dammit, he knew the whole time. Tony feels angry, and he knows it shows on his face. Strange just looks at him, apologetically. He shakes his head, just a little, and says, “There was no other way.”
The bastard maintains eye contact until the last second, and then he’s gone, too.
Tony wants to cry. He wants to scream and cuss and throw things. This isn’t how it goes. They’re the Avengers. They’re the good guys. They’re supposed to win.
He whips around. No. Not Peter, too. Not… Not Peter.
“I don’t feel so good…” Peter says, voice breaking at the end.
And Tony can’t handle it. He rushes forward and pulls Peter into his arms, trying to hold on to him. The kid starts pleading with him, starting to cry, and Tony can’t do it. He interrupts him, frantically, “Just hold on–you hear me? You’re not dying like this. Not here; not now!”
Peter’s legs go and they stumble to the ground, Tony protecting Peter’s head from the rock beneath them. Peter’s eyes are watery and red as he looks up at him, and the kid takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He looks away, as if it’s too much, and fades in Tony’s arms.
Tony falls back, panting and staring at his hands, waiting for them to go, to fade. Nothing happens. Nothing. Nothing.
“He did it.” Nebula is behind him, the last Guardian.
He hates it. He almost hates her. But she sits close as he curls in on himself, trying to contain the unbearable rage and grief that begin to consume him. Her hand rests on her shoulder, and he sobs once, reaching up to cover her hand with his, holding on for dear life.
