Chapter Text
The rest of the week went by rather uneventfully. Stephen kept Tony, Natasha, and Gamora informed, delivering news and messages back and forth between them and the Soul Heist team. Tony, as expected, almost had a nervous breakdown when he found out Peter was with them, and it took Natasha, Gamora, and Stephen himself to help reassure and calm him down.
“You keep him safe, Stephen,” he’d almost begged. Stephen had quickly swore he would. He wouldn’t let Tony down again.
There were plans tossed around that got scrapped just as fast as they’d been created. No one knew what to expect, aside from the little that Clint had told them. That hadn’t been at all reassuring.
They rested and regrouped and rethought everything, but in the end, they knew that they would just have to wing it.
Then came the moment of truth.
“Vormir,” Clint whispered as they crested the last jump, coming right in front of the lonely planet. “We’re here.”
Landing had been hesitant and careful, but within the hour they were on the planet’s surface. They silently marched off, weapons at the ready, super suits donned, eyes peeled, and tension palpable in the air.
The sky was dark purple, the color of the sky right before the sunrise, right at the cusp between the dark of night and daybreak.
Clint stepped away from the group, looking one way and another, seeing the planet looking completely untouched, just the way it’d been when he’d arrived with Natasha.
“They - they should be here, but,” Clint began, voice edging on panicked. “It doesn’t look like how it is in our dreams, I don’t -”
Stephen had told them that they were three jumps away last time he’d been able to contact them. That felt like it’d been ages ago, but they all knew it couldn’t have been more than a day since he’d last come through. The boredom and nervous energy was getting the better of them, and just as Tony was going to suggest playing another rousing game of never have I ever, lightning flashed.
They scrambled to their feet, catching sight of a purple sky and two ships docked a dozen yards away from them. Tony recognized everyone in the crowd, and his heart squeezed in his chest.
“Clint?” Natasha whispered from beside him before taking off in a run, heading straight for the lone figure up ahead. “Clint!”
“Nat!” he shouted, running to meet her, arms outstretched to pull her in a hug.
Then there was another flash, and they were alone again, the orange sky back as if it’d never left.
“No, no -” Natasha cried, arms meeting nothing but air in front of her. She whirled around. “You all saw that, right? They were -”
“They were right there,” Gamora breathed, frozen right on the spot, her disbelief keeping her from moving. She turned to Tony, tears in her eyes. “They were right there.”
Tony opened his mouth, not sure what he was even going to say since he was just as stunned and torn at having seen everyone, when a voice from behind them chimed in.
“That, they were. All nice and ready to take you all home.”
“Fuck, no - no, they were there! Natasha was there!” Clint screamed as he ran straight through were she would have been, just as everyone ran to him. They’d all seen them, the three solitary figures backlit by an orange light, gone just as quickly as they’d appeared.
“I don’t understand -” Steve began, at a loss, when a voice he recognized called out.
“Welcome back, Clint, son of Edith.”
“Who are you?” Gamora demanded, turning towards the voice and coming face to face with a bright light, almost too painful to look at.
“I am,” the being said, voice low, ancient, layered in hundreds of voices, coming from all around them. “The Soul.”
“You’re not the keeper of the stone,” Natasha answered. “I’ve met him, and it's not you.”
The light turned to Natasha. “Not the keeper. The Soul.”
“The Soul,” Tony repeated. “Like, the Soul Stone?”
“Correct, Anthony Stark,” it replied. “And I am what stands between you and them.”
“T’Challa, son of Ramonda,” he continued, floating towards them across the water. “Hope, daughter of Hank. Thor, son of Frigga. Steve, son -” he paused, eyes flashing as recognition dawned on his red features. “OF A BITCH!”
He lunged at Steve, and Steve immediately raised his shield to defend himself when suddenly Red Skull froze, as if stopped by an invisible force. He was shaking in his fury, but composed himself all the same.
“Steve,” he spat out as he finished, “Son of Sarah.” He drifted past, coming to a stop before all of them. “You’re all here for the Stone Souls.” It wasn’t a question.
“What are you even doing here?” Steve demanded. “You should be dead.”
His head cocked to Steve. “I was banished here, to guard what I can never possess. Just as I guard the souls within.”
“So all we have to do is fight you?” Gamora growled, already moving into a fighting stance.
“Not at all,” the light answered. “You have to conquer yourselves before you are to be freed. And they must conquer themselves before they are to free you.”
“And if we can’t?” Natasha asked, already sensing the catch.
“You remain here,” he said matter-of-factly.
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to do whatever it takes to keep us here, aren’t you?”
“Success or failure means nothing to me.” It drifted around them, circling them. “If you succeed, I am fed. If you fail, I am fed. I do not merely take souls - I feast on their potential. Lost or achieved makes no difference to me.”
“Then why not just let us go?” Gamora snapped.
The light swayed. “I am the only stone with pure sentience. I grow bored in my loneliness.” It glowed brighter, wisps of light starting to encase the three of them. “Prove yourselves, that your sacrifices were worthy, that you deserve to return.”
“So if we defeat you, we get them back?” Stephen asked, orange wisps of magic already forming at his wrists.
“Not me,” Red Skull responded. He looked at the mountain. “You must defeat the stone.” He turned slowly, scanning everyone in their group. “You are to split up, one group per soul. Prove your worth and earn their lives.”
“What do you mean?” Wanda scowled, stepping up next to Clint.
Red Skull glanced at the red energy dancing along her finger tips, his lip curling into the approximation of a smile. “You have ten minutes.”
“Three sacrifices,” the light continued, floating past them. Tony, Natasha, and Gamora couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. They were frozen in place.
“One, taken,” the light sighed, drifting past Gamora.
“One, fought for,” it added as it moved by Natasha.
“And one, given,” the light finished, stopping in front of Tony.
There was a flash of bright energy, a blinding light, even more blinding than the being. “Prove your worth,” they heard. “And your lives will be returned.”
Then, there was nothing but darkness as the stars above finally twinkled to life again.