ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT || REWRITE IS BEING POSTED AT DEAR MR FANTASY

A Painful Reunion

10 of ?

The Ones Left Behind

Eyeing Thanos' spiking domes that transported the mutts, Rocket hovered over the battlefield about a hundred and fifty feet from one. An irritated and annoyed look puzzled his face as his jet-pack kept him steady. This technology was different from what he was used to, but in the end, technology was technology; he'd figure it out eventually, it was just taking an unpleasant amount of time while they were meaning to move hastily. Both his own devices and Stark's AI, Friday, were analyzing the alien transporters. Rocket was offered one of Stark's device that would allow Friday to be in the Guardian's range. The AI was quite baffled at the unknown systems, but was downloading information from Rocket's technology and was quickly catching on.

From what both could tell, the transporters required a large amount of energy to move them, but they were only transporters, not entire ships. Rocket, Thor, Nebula, and the rest of the humans were developing a plan to set up beacons to alert them of Thanos' army's location and if they were headed to Earth. Doing that though, Rocket knew they would need to set up beacons on other planets and make a technological chain-link so they could know days in advance if Thanos was targeting the planet. It was just a matter of executing and fleshing out such a plan, especially the number of beacons they needed to supply both Earth and other locations in space. That job was left mainly to Rocket, Nebula, and Thor since their combined power was the most knowledgeable about space and different technologies. Bruce and Tony offered some pointers, but the billionaire was still recovering and lacked much strength to lend help at the moment. Meanwhile, the other humans were dealing with Earth stuff, Rocket guessed.

"I'm detecting high energy signatures at the top and base of the structure," Friday noted to Rocket, seeing the transporter's structure displayed through the holographic screen the raccoon was holding.

"Yeah, I'm seeing that. That's probably where the transporters are operated and it's power source," Rocket mumbled with disappointment, not retrieving all the information he was hoping for. "Hey, Thor, I'm going to go inside and explore to see if I can figure this out. Meet me at the base at the one I'm at." After finishing his sentence, Rocket flew towards the ground and came to hover near one of the doors to the transporter. He waited a few moments for Thor to join him since the Asgardian was checking out the top of the structures himself while waiting for Rocket; luckily the mother ship had left the transporters, giving Rocket time to figure these things out and use them against the Black Order. He had destroyed a few days ago, but they called off taking out the transporters in case Rocket could make beneficial use out of them. The archer had even come with them to check out the structures, but he wandered off...yeah, that was really helpful. "Could you make an entrance for me? Just be careful, don't damage it too much," the Guardian prompted Thor when he finally reached the base where Rocket was.

"Do you want me to go with you? There could still be mutts inside." Thor asked once he broke the door open. "Or even get Barton..."

"Eh..." Rocket replied when he hovered just inside the door and gazed up. "This isn't exactly a typical ship...this is a transporter, so there are compartments and no real hallways or corridors." Examining the interior, Rocket discovered a long cylinder pathway rising far beyond his sight to the top of the transporter. Compartments for the mutts were aligned along it, but he didn't see any real way to go up there besides flying. Beside him, standing on the ground, Thor saw what the raccoon was talking about. "I'll take a look around and see if I can get to the power source. Just stay out here for right now, Friday isn't picking up any life signatures."

"Be careful," the Asgardian warned and Rocket patted his belt full of weaponry with a smirk before he ascended through the cylinder. As he rose, he noticed hundreds of compartments and each one had a light above it, which Rocket guessed opened and sealed the chambers. A thought came to mind of perhaps harvesting the lights from the sockets, maybe turning those into the beacons. Continuing up, Rocket realized the transporter was designed into sections and at the break between sections were pathways where the energy ran through, and there seemed to be tunnels designed for somebody to go through.

"Thor, I think I found a way to get to the power source. These transporters were designed so they didn't have to be operated manually, but there are trails in case workers needed to fix something, I guess," the Guardian explained through the comm, "I'm going in."

"Are you sure that's for workers then? What if the power turns on?"

"Well, hopefully, it's doesn't," Rocket said, knowing he'd get charred if it did. Crawling through the tunnel and doing his best to follow the directory from his devices and Friday, Rocket spent a few minutes figuring out if he was in the main energy line or not. He came to tunnels that branched off, but the one he was in was the largest, so the raccoon assumed it was the right way to go and continued following it on all fours with a light from his suit. For a moment, he paused and sneezed from the dust that lined the tunnels and made the air stuffy. "These people suck at sanitation," he commented to Thor as he inched towards the light leaking through at the end of the tunnel, "Gosh, it's worse than the Milano."

"Have you reached the source?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it," Rocket returned as he reached the edge of the tunnel and looked down about twenty-five feet to see glass flooring that layered between the different levels. Staring at the long drop below the two glass walkways surrounding the power source, Rocket gulped. With his jet-pack, he safely landed on the circular bridge and pulled out his screen to analyze the device. "Okay. So...," he trailed off, overlooking the complicated control panel in front of him, "Friday, you may want to pay attention..this is a lot of...ugh." Sneering in disgust, Rocket starting messing around with it, finding the controls that operated the compartments.

"Rocket? How's it going?" Thor asked after the long silence over the comm as Rocket worked.

"Okay, so I broke the transporter's connection to the main ship, but it's still online and connected to the other transporters here on Earth," the Guardian stated as he lowered the power shield surrounding the source. There, in the center of the source was an orb that had technical lines of energy running across it. "We have all the tech here to make the beacons, but I need to think about this and analyze all this stuff for a moment, but our plan should work."

"What else do you need? How long do you think this will take?"

Confirming the area was safe to enter, Rocket hovered into the space, picking up the orb. "There's this orb here that is the central control. I'm go-" Abruptly stopping, Rocket perked his ears and sniffed before fleetly glancing over his shoulder as the mutt launched at him with a ravaging and bloodthirsty snarl. Rocket wasn't quick enough; he bared his teeth with a startled cry as the mutt slammed into his side, sending both of them crashing against the power source's structure and hitting the glass floor. With a grunt, Rocket gasped and watched as the orb rolled towards the opening between the walkways. Scowling with frustration, Rocket grabbed a gadget off his belt and threw it behind him with a yelp when he felt the mutt mindlessly claw at his leg. It let go as the gadget electrocuted the creature, giving the Guardian the chance to reboot the jetpack and grab the orb, rolling off the platform with it.

He fell for a brief moment before he levitated and pulled out a gun while holding onto the orb. Aiming it up at the glass under the mutt, Rocket opened fire, but as it shattered the mutt lept to the walkway's metal siding and lunged down towards the Guardian. It was shot several times, but that didn't stop it from clutching Rocket's leg as he tried moving away and the creature's weight pulled him down to the second level of walkways. Their momentum striking the glass sent it splintering, but Rocket held fast with a whimper to the metal structure as the mutt fell to its death. With a groan, Rocket rested his chin on the rafter; he held onto it with one hand while tightly grasping the orb against his chest.

"Rocket?" The Asgardian called through the comm with concern, probably having heard the struggle.

"No life signatures except for that one..." Rocket croaked, catching his breath as the jetpack landed him on a stable walkway. "Ouch," he murmured, looking down at his leg where a bit of blood soaked his fur.

"Well, this was stupid," Rocket huffed as he limped over to Nebula and set the orb and one of the light devices he detached from a compartment on the table she was working at. Gesturing to his leg, he complained, "Look at this!"

Nebula didn't bother to look, still focused on the screens in front of her, but she remarked, "What are you complaining about?" With a retaliating hiss, Rocket glared at the woman as he walked off to tend to his leg. He really couldn't deal with her insensitivity right now when his dead friends were still on his mind, and it was denying; no, they can't be dead, they aren't dead, they'll walk onto this ship any moment. In fact, as the days progressed it was getting harder to swallow the idea that they were all gone. The first couple of days Rocket managed, but he was beginning to miss their company. On top of that, he had to worry and deal with creating a system that could detect Thanos worlds away, and now the leg. Every little thing added up and Rocket felt like he was nearing the edge of his sanity.

"There's still no word?" The Guardian quipped as he sat down on a bench with a damp cloth and wiped off his leg.

"Just dead silence," Nebula answered.

Depressingly sighing, Rocket rubbed ointment over the stinging gash in his leg. "I was hoping for something more...hopeful," he grimaced, keeping his eyes focused on the wound. "I at least expected the Ravagers to respond, wherever they are."

"Yeah, well, maybe it'd help if we weren't just sitting here," the cyborg growled.

Defensively, Rocket retorted, "I take it was a smart move to lock you out of the ship's systems, on my part." Both Nebula and Rocket exchanged a challenging glance as the raccoon continued. "You're the one who said Thanos was unstoppable. So, you know what I'm doing? Trying to work out a plan. If you have something better, Nebula, be my guest and tell me." Sternly, Rocket got to his feet with a wince, starting to wrap his leg with bandages as he spoke. "Oh, wait, you do have a plan: go in guns blazing. Now, I would love to shoot Thanos in the face until there's nothing left, but I'd rather have it work. I'd rather not risk my life if he's still standing at the end of the day. Revenge is killing him, Nebula, not trying to kill him and fail. Look what happened on Titan! They all had a plan, and Quill had to go screw it up!" Rocket's voice was rising to anger as he stood upright to face Nebula; the thought that one action changed everybody's fate bled through his mind. Quill was his friend, and one wrong move by Quill got his entire team killed...although, in the heat of the moment, Rocket might've made the same mistake. "It was an organized plan; Stark told us. Look what happened to him! I'd rather not end up like Stark if I can help it and unless it leaves Thanos dead." The words were provoking Nebula and a dark, furious look crossed her face and she snorted mockingly while fisting the table and shooting a look towards Rocket. With his ears flattening against his head and hurtfully breaking his eye contact with Nebula, he began cleaning up the medical supplies to make himself look busy. "But if you want to go on a suicide mission, then go ahead, I'm not stopping you, but to hell with you if you take my ship. I've got nobody left, so I'm staying here where I at least have someone, and where I can at least try doing something."

Pissed off, Nebula grabbed something off the table and threw it at the wall where if fractured into pieces. "Hey! You can't just break my stuff!" Rocket barked at her as she stormed off. "Yeah, go ahead, run away, Nebula! Nobody wants you!" He yelled to her back as she went downstairs to the ramp, adding, "If you need to kill something, there may be more fucking space dogs in those transporters!" When she was gone, Rocket snarled and brought a fist down on the bench he was standing in front of. Taking a deep breath, he buried his face in his hands with a mournful whine...he missed his friends and he knew Nebula was upset about Gamora too. They wanted the same revenge, but Nebula wasn't one for patience, she wanted the revenge here and now. Rocket understood that and he suddenly felt guilty about his harsh words towards her. Sorrowfully, Rocket strode over to the table and pulled himself onto a chair where he rested his head on his arms. He stared at the orb and the device with it, trying to seek out his motivation, but it was dying in the face of this tragedy.

"Tony?" It took a moment, but the Golden Avenger glanced at Bruce who stood in the doorway to the hospital room. The engineer didn't answer, lost in deep thought as he sat at the foot of the hospital bed. Sympathetically, Bruce saw his friend's troubled daze and took a few steps towards him. "Why don't we get you out of here, you've been discharged," Bruce mentioned, holding up the records in his hand for indication, "Are you ready?" It'd been fifteen days, and while the hospital was hesitant at letting Tony go just yet, on the border of whether to be discharged or not, Bruce convinced Ada for the discharge, knowing the genius was growing antsy and needed a change in environment.

"Yeah," Tony muttered dishearteningly as he got to his feet. Opening the backpack that was sitting next to him, holding what few belongings he had, Bruce handed him the files. When they were tucked away in the backpack, Tony closed it and gave it to the scientist. Tony would've carried it himself, but Bruce was giving him a cautious, disapproving look that told the billionaire not to push himself and ease back into daily activities.

"Mr. Stark." Both the men looked towards the door as Ada walked up to them and stopped. "It's good to see you finally getting out of here."

"Yes," Tony said humbly, holding out his hand to shake hers, "thank you for all you've done for me."

"You're welcome," the woman replied, "But no need to get all sappy, I'll be seeing you at follow up appointments. Until then...good luck, considering our situation."

The three of them shared a mutual moment of harrowing silence, before Bruce voiced subtly, "We'll do what we can. Please, take care of yourself, Ada."

"Thank you," she responded graciously, before exiting with an acknowledging nod. Exchanging an empathetic glance, Bruce laid a friendly hand on Tony's shoulder as they moved towards the door, but removed it once they left the room.

A surreal trance surrounded Tony like pressure in deep water as the two Avengers walked side by side down the corridor. All this still wasn't real, it was uncomprehending, and Tony had several thoughts that this was still a nightmare; he'd wake up any moment, and everything would be all right. The ones he loved and cared for would still be alive, the impaling wound wouldn't exist, and all his worries would be on whether his wedding was before or after the decoy date. "When we go out to the flight pad, they're going to give you an oxygen mask, okay? It's just until we get on the quinjet because of the humidity and altitude." Bruce gazed at Tony worriedly a few times, seeing the distant and distraught look in Tony's eyes. The words didn't even seem to reach his ears, making Bruce call to his friend sharply, but with gentleness. "Tony?"

"Hm?" Distractedly, Tony flicked his eyes over to Bruce.

"Hey," Bruce prodded the back of his hand against Tony's bicep to halt both of them, "Did you hear me?"

He angled himself slightly towards Tony as he provided an answer, "..uh..something about humidity." As Tony spoke, he avoided eye contact with Bruce for the most part while he anxiously fidgeted with his hands.

"Tony," Bruce began, seeing the emotional wear and tear of trauma on his friend's face, "You know you can talk to me, right?"

The scientist wasn't sure what kind of reaction he'd get from Tony, but the billionaire lowly mused with satire, "Yeah, I'll talk when the others talk. Believe me, I'm not the only one who needs a therapist. I've tried that and it's just..."

"It's just what, Tony?" Bruce listened encouragingly as Tony struggled for words.

"People don't get it," Tony huffed harshly in expanding frustration. No matter how hard therapists tried, they would never understand the things Tony had seen. Maybe now they could, but he doubted it.

"Tony, we've faced a lot of evils and a lot of horrors," he affirmed, "more than most people have in their lifetimes."

"And what about you? How are you holding up?" Tony contributed edgily. "What about Natasha? Cap? Clint? Thor? But now everyone's suffered something, so why are you so worried about me?" Gesturing towards himself by tapping on his chest, Tony eyed Bruce with an overwhelmingly confused expression.

"Because you're my friend, Tony, and I know you," Bruce uttered sincerely, pausing for a moment, "I realize that you've seen things we haven't. I know you've been fighting this battle before we even saw it coming and I know how terrifying it feels to exhaustively fight something alone when nobody else sees it...I'm saying that through my experience in sharing my body with another person, but I was there when Thanos attacked the Asgardian vessel, I saw the vastness and ruthlessness of those ships. I can only imagine your fear when you went through that wormhole and saw that." That word was potent and Tony cringed hearing it as those memories and all the horrors that came after it flashed through his mind. He rubbed his forehead, understanding and considering Bruce's care and concern for the genius. "I care about you, Tony, and I'm here. It's painful for me to come back here and see my friends torn apart and scattered, and I can't just...we need to fix this and if we can't fix the Snap, then fine...but us as friends, as a team, we need to fix that, otherwise that is the real loss." Running his hand through his hair and down his neck, Tony glanced up at Bruce with empathy on the powerful and meaningful subject. It was a wonder though, how they would survive through this.

"Do you mind if we," Tony pantomimed for them to keep walking with a constricting throat and reddening eyes, "you're making me misty-eyed in a hospital hallway."

Seeing themselves standing in the middle of the hospital corridor, talking publicly (not that anybody was listening), they reached the elevator. The ride up to the flight pad was silent and felt excruciatingly long as Tony coughed heavily a few times, the pain searing his ribs. Today was hardly the best day for functioning as Tony only stared off in thought, still processing and counting the days. Bruce endlessly kept an eye on his ailing friend, knowing the trouble and burden and guilt laying on their shoulders and Tony's shoulders. "Do you want to talk about Peter?" Bruce asked as they stepped out from the elevator and into a large lobby before one of the flight pads. Saying the name alone made Tony freeze and look like he was in pain. The scientist's eyes widened with sympathy when Tony quickly got choked up and was low-key restraining himself from a breakdown. "Tony, I'm sorry, I didn...he really meant something to you."

Tony swallowed and took a deep breath, glaring off at nothing to calm himself. "It should've been me, not him. He's the one who should be standing here," Tony muttered with faltering control.

"I know," Bruce spoke with condolence, realizing how much Tony cared for this high-schooler that the Bruce had met for a brief moment. It was a pain far greater than anything Bruce had seen Tony express so willingly.

"I don't even know if his aunt or friends are still alive," Tony murmured, imagining having to go up to someone's parent or friend, explaining to them that their child and friend was dead; and the news spreading from one family member to the next, and one friend to the next. That pain scarred the engineer's soul, remembering when he was told of his parent's death by the authorities. He could hardly bring himself to telling his relatives and friends. "If they are, how do I..."

"I'm sorry, Tony," Bruce whispered, not knowing what more to say to heal the Avenger from this sorrow. "I'm s-"

"Dr. Banner, Mr. Stark?" A Wakandan man broke in, walking up to the two of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need the flight pad cleared soon for an incoming aircraft." Proceeding respectfully, Tony was given an oxygen mask and put on sunglasses before they opened the doors to the outside. Tony wanted to choke, just feeling the humidity's pressure against his weakened body; it was the first time he'd been outside since the surgery. The sun's strong rays made him squint intensely and the thoughts of the desert came to him as Bruce gingerly escorted him across the blacktop and up the quinjet's ramp.

Pausing for a split second, Tony had to force his way up the ramp and once he was inside the aircraft he created, it wasn't the same. He felt lightheaded and sick seeing the place where he laid bleeding to death. The blood was gone, though, washed away and spotless as if nothing happened. When Tony observed the table in the center of the quinjet, he saw that the sword was gone too. For a moment, he felt his mind slip to a wanted timeline where all that happened hadn't really happened, it was a normal day stepping onto the jet; he'd awoken from the nightmare. All until he heard the ramp shut behind him and Bruce walked past him towards the cockpit. Tony pulled the mask and sunglasses off his face and set them down on the table before he cautiously, and paranoidly walked around the area he was dying at. He passed it and advanced further down the wing until he found what he was looking for: the sword. It was encased separately in a glass weapons compartment.

An eerie, dark chill left goosebumps on Tony's arms as he stared loathing and tortuously at his technological weapon that pierced him. Normally, ingenious thoughts would leak into the billionaire's mind, but it was empty and barren. "Can I do something?" Bruce's voice gently penetrated the grueling moment, seeing Tony still struggling in his mental battle.

"It's too late for that," Tony repined dispirited, knowing this damage he and the ones left behind endured would never heal to it's fullest. Things would never be the same again, ever. Parts of themselves died in this catastrophic event, and they were never going to get those parts of their souls back; they ceased to exist, just like the real souls that had passed on before their time. "Can you show me where the battle was?"

"Of course," Bruce was solemn, skeptical at Tony's hopelessness. Remaining in the wing, Tony continued to stare at the sword for several moments before he reluctantly turned his back on it. When Tony was settled, he slouched in the seat, observing his hands, remembering Peter dying in his arms; turning to dust and seeping through the Avenger's bloody fingers. The billionaire's left arm felt numb and trembled involuntarily; it made Tony scowl in frustration and he huffed. He hurt everywhere, his body tolled with the physical damage it took to being Ironman for a decade. The looks had passed around on his friends' faces while in the ICU and it made him question if he'd ever be able to use the suit again. "Tony, come here." The words pulled the man from his thoughts and his attention shifted to the cockpit, where Bruce called.

Achingly getting to his feet with an exhausted sigh, Tony went over to Bruce as asked and held onto a railing while looking out the window. As the quinjet pulled out of the city limits, they were flying over the field. The enormous damage wasn't hard to miss as the field laid torn and burned. Tony's eyes then saw the transporters, standing high like skyscrapers. A few Wakandan aircrafts surrounded them at the base. "This is what Rocket's working on?" Tony quipped.

"Yeah," Bruce replied, slowing the jet down and circling around the alien structure for a better view.

"Hey, when did you get so good at piloting?" The billionaire asked, but Bruce merely scoffed. "There's probably a lot I need to get up to speed on, huh?" Tony delivered quietly, not knowing much on how the rest of Earth was doing and what plans were being made. It was understood that Pepper, Natasha, Rhodey, and Steve were dealing with that chaos on the Avengers' behalf, but Tony was left out of those stresses since his agenda and the Avengers' agenda for him was recovery.

"We will, Tony," the scientist reassured.

Flying along the jungle borders, the quinjet passed further down the field as Bruce was ready to head back to the city. Just before Tony turned to leave the cockpit, he saw the figure step out from the vegetation. "Hey, we know that guy," Tony murmured, recognizing the Stark bow in the man's hands from anywhere. Bruce scowled, suspiciously curious as Tony pointed out the archer who was wandering around looking lost. As they landed and the ramp opened, Tony held onto a wall railing while standing in the entrance to the quinjet. "Barton!" Tony bellowed meekly and began coughing as Clint leisurely approached the jet. Bruce walked passed Tony, halfway down the ramp while Clint halted a few feet away from it.

"Is something wrong?" Clint casually asked, looking surprisingly unfocused and confused.

"No, but what are you doing all the way out here?" Bruce was kind, seeing that the Avenger was off the rails slightly.

"I just...I was.." Tony narrowed his eyes compassionately towards the archer, hearing what happened to his family.

"Why don't you come back to the penthouse with us?" The billionaire suggested, concerned.

As he played with the bowstring, Clint replied without making eye contact. "I can't, I'm helping Rocket and Thor." The scientist raised an eyebrow, the Avenger was far off from Rocket and Thor.

"Here, alone?"

"I'm just...I'm looking for something, Bruce.." Clint sighed, growing agitated.

"...Okay..." Bruce murmured, allowing Clint the space to gather his thoughts. "If you need anything, we'll be at the penthouse."

Shifting uncomfortably from standing too long, Tony coughed. Bruce glanced over his shoulder at him before gradually turning and walking back up the ramp. Watching, Clint exchanged a look with Tony and the assassin gave an understanding nod to the Golden Avenger. "Tony," Clint acknowledged and Tony returned a mutual nod before the archer walked off. With a sigh, Tony closed the ramp.

Entering the penthouse, Tony gazed around the space as Bruce set the backpack on the island. The area was dark, aside from the afternoon light peeking through the glass windows. Outside, the skies were beginning to look gloomy, like a storm was coming. "Well, it ain't the Tower or Compound, but it'll do." So far, Tony had admired the Wakandan city, but its priority was the least on his list. Of course, he was surprised to discover a hidden, futuristic city he was standing in, over a mountain of vibranium, but there were bigger problems to address first.

"Mr. Stark." The female voice startled Tony and he felt some panic stricken him, but then he saw the young, Wakanda woman standing by the windows on the opposite side of the penthouse.

"Um...hey..who-" Tony began.

"Tony, this is Shuri," Bruce explained, and Tony relaxed a bit.

"Ah, so you're the genius around these parts," Tony said, following Bruce to meet Shuri in the middle as she approached to greet them.

"I am, but I wanted to welcome you to Wakanda." Shuri reciprocated warmly, shaking his hand.

"I wish it were under other circumstances," the Avenger responded graciously, "Thank you, though, for your hospitality in such a dire time."

Shuri nodded, "It was the right thing to do."

Looking Shuri in the eyes, Tony could see the deep pain lingering, despite how strong she tried to remain. "I'm so sorry for your losses," Tony gave his condolences, empathizing with her sorrow. She was still young too, and all this tragedy was hard to face at a young age. Tony knew from experience.

The young woman complied emotionally, "And yours as well. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Luckily, I have bodies to care for me, but thank you," the engineer reassured, "I know you have an entire country to run, we'll try to keep out of your hair."

"There's no need, we're in this together now," she said with humility, "I'll let you get some rest. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Stark."

"Same to you, Shuri. Take care." Saying their farewells, Tony and Bruce walked her to the door.

When she was gone, Tony exhaled a heavy sigh. "It's a shame about her brother and mother," he mentioned, grabbing the backpack from the island and going over to the lounging area.

"From the brief moment I met T'Challa, I could tell he was a good man," Bruce noted, trailing behind Tony to the sitting area to keep a monitoring eye on him. A pale complexion was slowly crossing Tony's features. "Things could've ended a lot worse if not for Wakanda."

"A lot worse than genocide?" Tony comment disappointingly, setting his things on the coffee table while observing the pillows and blankets left for him on the sofa. He felt so tired already, and all the movement was becoming agonizing.

"I didn't say our situation wasn't a nightmare, but in all truth, Thanos could be here slaughtering and torturing us if he wanted." Bruce pointed out, but Tony was only half listening at the moment. "He can do anything with that gauntlet."

"Yeah, maybe our turn hasn-" The genius cut out as he laid down on the sofa with a painful moan.

"Tony," Bruce immediately asked, standing beside the sofa, "Can I do something to help?"

"No, I'm just...exhausted," Tony muttered, covering his eyes with a hand.

"You've done a lot today, all considering." Bruce questioned again, worriedly, "Are you sure you don't need anything? Food? Water?"

"Water," Tony mumbled, looking miserable.

Not lifting his hand from his eyes, Tony heard Bruce walk away. While Tony waited, he felt for a blanket and pulled it over him. "Tony?" He heard Bruce at his side again, but instead of a verbal response, Tony hummed in fatigue. "The water's on the floor beside you. Is there anything else you need?" Tony didn't feel like replying, so he said nothing and heard Bruce leave him.

Friday kept tabs on Tony, but when Bruce returned about forty-five minutes later to check on his friend he found him under the blanket, sitting up against the pillows reading his medical file. Tony seemed more relaxed, or as much as he could be in his and their current state, but it made Bruce nervous at him looking over all the X-rays, MRI scans, and all the other tests. "Hey," Bruce greeted, sitting on the sofa's arm, opposite of Tony.

"Hey," Tony said, still focused on the charts. "I didn't realize the damage was so..."

The scientist offered the word to his friend, "Extensive?"

"Feeling it is one thing, seeing the layers of it is another," Tony devised sagely.

"Is this the first you're seeing these then?" Bruce asked and Tony sighed for a yes. "Are you sure you want to look at those?" It unsettled Bruce, wondering how Tony felt reading all the details when he didn't need too. Why would he want to add more to the trauma? Bruce should've kept those files away from him, but Tony seemed to have other reasons, and he was a grown man.

"When I had the arc reactor in my chest, I was my only doctor," Tony retorted, upset from the memory, but he proceeded, "It may have been disturbing to look at, but it's what I had to do for myself."

The thought of it made Bruce frown, knowing how dark and cold of a world Tony had been exposed to. "You don't need to do this alone anymore," Bruce assured gently, trying to brace Tony away from the mistrust he dwelled in. "You have help, and I know that's hard to believe and trust, but it's true. I just wish you'd see that."

"...I do...it's just..." Tony had an expression on his face as if he was done tolerating bullshit-talk like that. "I spent most of my life looking out for myself, so it's...it's alien to me when people care. I'm a person that people hate, who they want to kill, I screw up every chance I get. Things were starting to change with the Avengers, but then that got broke too because of the Accords, and everyone got imprisoned except for Vision, Rhodey, and me. So, it's hard for me to digest that people care, aside from you, Pepper, and Rhodey."

The sternness of Tony's voice left Bruce in a place where he didn't know how to reply. What happened really scarred Tony and the rest of the team, and Bruce knew much of it was bitterness and anger from Tony about his parents. An ill look resided in Tony's eyes, and it wasn't a physical illness, it was a spiritual and emotional illness. The harsh, painful moment quickly fled, though, as the door to the penthouse opened and shuffling was heard. Tony couldn't see over the back of the sofa, but Bruce looked and saw Rocket dragging a large bag towards the lounging area. "Would you mind helping me instead of just sitting there?" Rocket said, agitated.

"Yeah," Bruce replied, leaving the sofa and reaching Rocket. He took the bag from the raccoon, briefly looking inside it. "What are these?"

"These are going to be our beacons," the Guardian explained, "They're from those transporters."

"Bruce, can you bring those over here, so I can see?" Tony called from the sofa and Bruce rejoined his friend with the bag. Rocket took longer to follow, limping over to the coffee table where Bruce set the bag next to on the floor. "What happened to your leg?" Tony asked Rocket, both Avengers noticing.

"Eh, I had to go crawling through those transporters. I thought we killed all the mutts, but one was still inside and attacked me." Tony and Bruce exchange a look at each other, not knowing what to say, but Rocket shrugged it off. "It's fine, not exactly the first time something's tried eating me. Anyway, so..." Pulling the orb out of the bag, Rocket set it on the coffee table along with one of the lights. Tony stared at it, examining it from a distance curiously as Bruce knelt down to Rocket's level. "This orb is what's running their technology. I've severed the link between the transporters in the field with the mother ship. Thor and Nebula are working on detaching the rest of these lights or whatever...we need to manually reprogram them each so they can't be re-hacked, and then we can merge your tech into it so it corresponds with Earth. Long story short, we can make these lights our beacons."

"How many do we have?" Tony asked, folding the medical records back up. He handed them off to Bruce, who put them on the coffee table while Tony picked up the glass of water on the floor beside him.

"This isn't even a fraction of the number of beacons we can activate, there's hundreds of them on those transporters. We'll be well supplied," the raccoon stated, turning his attention to Tony to answer, "I just need help fixing them because there's so many. The quicker they're activated, the quicker we can set them up."

"Well, the two of us will have to do for now," Bruce told Rocket.

"I'll put some together," the downed Avenger input.

"You sure?" Rocket pressed, his ears perking slightly.

"I've got nothing better to do," Tony answered blandly, drinking from the glass of water.

"Alright. When the others come back, we can ask for their help also," Bruce affirmed, "How do we reprogram these?"

"It seems complicated, but it's pretty basic technology." Rocket picked up a beacon and flipped it over to show the advanced wiring. Rocket messed around with it for a moment. "This gets removed, we re-attach these things, wire these things...and it's golden." Tony and Bruce watched closely and respectfully as Rocket showed them the process a second time. "You got it?" Rocket asked, his eyes focused up at Tony to be sure the injured man understood.

"Yeah," Tony said, setting the water on the floor and taking the fixed beacon from the raccoon to examine it. As he did, Rocket dispersed the deactivated lights.

Over the next few hours, Thor frequently stopped in to deliver more of the lights, well into early evening. The trio worked until several bags of activated beacons laid in a pile behind one of the sofas adjacent to Tony. The Guardian sat on the floor in front of a chair while Bruce was next to the coffee table, almost buried in the number of beacons surrounding them. Tony took breaks from time to time, but he was becoming both fatigued and bored. The last half hour he had been still and shut his eyes, bearing what lasting pain there was and waiting for Pepper. He hoped she'd be back soon. The Avenger hadn't seen her all day and wanted her to relieve Bruce of babysitting Tony. Calming darkness and sleep were growing in Tony's favor and the thought of Pepper laying by his side. The thought of that made Tony empathize for Clint with that feeling he remembered from when Pepper fell from his grasp. Those sickening minutes that passed where the only truth and reality was that Pepper was dead.

"You alright?" Rocket murmured and Tony cracked open his eyes hearing the voice, but he insecurely sighed in response.

As Bruce reprogrammed one of the beacons, he eyed Tony for a moment and then turned his gaze to Rocket. When the raccoon parted his jaws in a lazy yawn, the scientist realized he was getting antsy also. "Are you guys getting hungry?" Bruce quipped, setting the beacon he'd been working on down.

"Yeah, and my hands are cramping up..." Rocket answered, stretching his paws sorely.

As Bruce got to his feet with a grunt from sitting too long, he looked at Tony who hadn't reacted or responded. His friend's attention was on Rocket as the raccoon continued to finish up the beacons around him, but Tony was slowly drifting off and finding it harder to stay awake. Bruce let him be and left the area to head to the kitchen.

Tony shut his eyes for another moment, trying to find the motivation to get up, but he wasn't feeling it; just procrastination. However, he opened them when he heard the door open and people walking in. He knew it was his broken team or former team? The genius didn't know anymore, a lot was damaged between all of them, but he guessed they were all trying. The value of life was far greater and whether they were comfortable or not, the Avengers needed each other. The voices were low and tired, but Tony wasn't focused enough to make out any of it. He closed his eyes to the muffling, but the brief talk soon ended and Tony felt fingers running through his hair. Peeking up, he smiled at Pepper. "Hey," he groused.

"Hey," Pepper said soothingly, kneeling on one knee beside the sofa to be at Tony's level. Docile, she folded her hand in his, "How are you feeling today?" Once the Avenger gawked deeply in her eyes, Tony suddenly felt emotional, knowing that he could be vulnerable around her and allowing it. She knew of his pain, whether physical or emotional and in return Pepper squeezed his hand for comfort as her eyes reddened, but Tony quickly guarded the moment when Natasha stopped at the foot of the sofa. The assassin looked slightly apologetic, realizing she walked in on a moment, but the Guardian spoke up before she could leave.

"The three of us have been working on these beacons for four or five hours." Rocket was insightful, although his energy level and speed were much slower as he failed to stop fixing the beacons. "After we take a break, do you guys mind helping us?" The two women glanced at Rocket, observing the piles of beacons that littered the area.

"Yeah, we'll help," Natasha acknowledged, considering whatever worldly and political challenges they faced today. "Just let us catch our breath first."

"Busy day?" Bruce called from the kitchen, to which Natasha looked in his direction while folding her arms over her chest. The rest of the Avengers weren't in sight, blocked by the back of the sofa, but Pepper got up and went back towards the kitchen. Tony almost felt cold when she left, but the settling look Natasha gave him temporarily eased the anxiety.

"Don't even get me started," Rhodey disinclined in the background.

The Widow took a step towards the coffee table, seeing all of Tony's medical files laying on it. Briefly, she looked at them. His bag of belongings was next to them and the zebra was inside it. "See something you like?" Tony chimed in friendly, noticing her hovering and sensitive stance towards him. Sullenly, she shook the question off and sat on the sofa's arm across from Tony as he fortified the statement, "Was pretty bad, huh?"

She looked at her friend, sharing a mutual and respectful glance. "It's a miracle they were able to salvage everything," she complied, opening herself to the conversation if Tony wanted to talk. The billionaire looked unsurely, wondering if it was Natasha that needed to talk rather then him.

"So I've heard," Tony replied, still questioning his trustworthiness towards the assassin. "The blood vessels to my renal artery were severed."

Sympathetically, Natasha said, knowing the kidney was nearly unsaved, "I know." Tony looked upset at the topic, but he remained with an indifferent expression. "Is the pain becoming more manageable, at least?"

"It's unpredictable. The pain is still there, but it changes," the Golden Avenger was honest, realizing he missed these small talks with Natasha. "And the cough's still lingering, but some days are better than others."

For a moment, Natasha watched him, remembering all the times' dear friends ended up crucially hurt. It wasn't a lot, there weren't many people she was close with aside from the Avengers and Nick Fury and Maria Hill. There was a pain in her heart, confirming they were both gone from the Snap. "At least you're here with us, finally," she asserted, not knowing what more to say.

"Hardly," Bruce cut in unexpectedly, coming to stand beside Natasha, "I practically had to fight the doctors for him to be discharged."

This enacted a grateful hum from Tony, glad to be out of the hospital. Rhodey came and rested his elbows on the back of the sofa, joining the group. "Why don't you guys get some food," he offered, which sent Bruce and Natasha back towards the kitchen. Rocket roughly sighed as he finished his last beacon and got to his feet, knowing there was still much to do, including the group discussing the next step. "Do you want anything?" Rhodey asked, looking down at Tony from behind the sofa's back. The colonel was rather glad to see Tony here with them finally, showing at least some improved, even in the slightest.

"Not really," the billionaire answered.

Rhodey and Pepper exchanged a doubtful look. "Are you sure?" Pepper asked.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," Tony adhered, starting to look uncomfortable, "I honestly just want to sleep, but we're supposed to be swapping stories about our days."

"Actually," Rocket started, halting just before he was about to walk passed the couch, "we could just discuss all of this tomorrow morning. I'm whipped too."

"We all are," Pepper agreed, familiar with long days at Stark Industries, although that was nothing compared to dealing with worldly issues.

"I can hardly keep my eyes open, so I'm fine with that," Rhodey said to Rocket, "We've all been working endlessly."

"I can't even count how many hours of sleep I'm running on," the Guardian bickered.

Glancing over his shoulder, Rhodey looked back at Steve, Natasha, and Bruce in the kitchen. "Are you guys alright if we discuss everything tomorrow?" They exchanged considering looks with wary, sleep deprived expressions.

"Do we have the beacons set up?" Steve asked thoughtfully.

Rounding the couch, Rocket walked out front so he was visible from the kitchen. "We have part of them set up, but if anything happens in Earth's radius, my ship will detect it, as well as all of your technology. Give us at least seven hours of rest. We'll finish the beacons tomorrow and I'll be able to fly them out."

Steve thought thoroughly, seeing the exhaustion in the group. "Everyone gets eight hours." A slight mood of contentment enlightened as Steve shifted his weight and rested his back against the counter. His arms were crossed while he gazed at the floor, collecting his thoughts. "I know these past few weeks have been the most grueling we've ever faced." The super-soldier was sincere and understanding as he tried to give them some praise and encouragement, "But, I'm proud of you. All of you, for remaining strong through our mistakes and losses." Tony couldn't see anything, but he was nearly ready to roll his eyes, puzzled if that was supposed to be some type of apology or treaty. If it was, it was a poor way of doing that, even if the moment held integrity. "Get some rest, we'll talk in the morning." After that, he assumed Steve had left the room because the others continued keeping on.

The engineer was lost with mixed feelings, thinking he had come to the point of forgiving Captain America, but then the betrayed feeling would return remembering watching his parents' death and realizing he was standing right next to their killer. While the thing Steve said to stop him from going after Bucky was 'It won't change what happened'. What about an apology? What about better sympathy or empathy towards what Tony was forced to watch. It was a struggle putting all that behind him, even after Thanos, especially that split second when Tony thought Steve about to kill him with his father's shield. That was the true moment that shattered their friendship.

A tap on his shoulder broke Tony's mesmerization. "Come on," Pepper said, holding out a hand for him. Taking it, she helped him to his feet where he winced and placed a hand on his abdomen. She put an arm around him and together they benevolently walked towards the hallway. Rhodey, Natasha, Bruce, and Rocket gave Tony low-key, cautious looks, but they soon went back to their own worries.

"Wait a minute," Tony uttered to Pepper after doing a silent head-count of everyone in the penthouse. They both stopped so he could look over his shoulder at Natasha. "Nat, you may want to go check on Barton. Bruce and I saw him wandering the for- eh, jungle, earlier, alone."

The Avenger quickly looked concerned, realizing she hadn't heard from her friend since this morning. "You didn't bring him back with you?" Natasha questioned.

"We tried," Bruce explained, "he insisted on being left alone and said he'd see us later."

Rocket scoffed and rolled his eyes while walking from the table to the island. "That dude said he was helping us, then ditched us like some lost puppy." In the next second, Thor entered the penthouse, dragging another bag of beacons. "Ek, no. Thor, we're done for the night. If I see another beacon, I'm going to puke," Rocket retorted in a cranky manner.

"Just doing what you asked," Thor replied, dropping the bag. He scanned everyone in the room before heading towards the hallway Pepper and Tony were standing by.

"Thor, have you seen Clint?" Tony asked.

"Not for a while, no." The Asgardian halted, adding, "He's not here?"

"No," Natasha said, "But it's fine, I'll go find him." The woman went to the counter to grab the keys to the penthouse.

Thor turned towards her. "Do you want somebody to go with you?" He suggested, knowing it was dark. Not that the Widow couldn't handle herself, but after everything that happened, the thought of a buddy system was in favor.

"No, I'll be fine," she responded hastily with a sigh, putting her jacket back on.

"We know you'll be fine, but don't go alone, Nat," Bruce agreed with Thor, and Natasha paused for a moment, seeing her friends' fret.

"I'll go with you, I know where Barton was last," Thor revealed, allowing himself a real excuse to go. Natasha nodded at him, and not needing to grab anything, both Thor and Natasha left.

Tony stood there hesitant, feeling anxious that three of his teammates were out of sight. And it wasn't because he was suspicious or mistrustful, but he cared. The Golden Avenger had lost enough. "Tony, come on. They'll be okay," Pepper assured, gingerly pulling him. He was slow at getting his attention back to Pepper, but when he did they both walked down the hall, passing by Steve's room. The door was shut and Tony felt his pace lessening, glaring at the door to the soldier's room. "What?" Pepper asked, seeing Tony's confused look.

"Nothing...it's just..." The billionaire sighed, wondering if he should let Steve know Natasha left to find Clint because he was currently missing. The thought then passed by, knowing somebody else would probably tell him. "Nevermind."

to be continued...