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Tony wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of space, it still made his anxiety spike if he was being completely honest, but being trapped on a spaceship actually kind of helped him get past that. The problem with moving past that feeling was that it only left Tony with his thoughts.
It was a loop really, Tony would think about what Thanos had done, his stomach would drop and he would feel a rush of sadness, and anger, and every emotion tied up with a sweet little bow. And then he would try to think of something more pleasant and it didn’t really help. It never did. Tony could still hear the swish of the wind, the smell of the dust, and he could never forget that feeling of watching people disappear in front of his own eyes. Like a cheap magicians trick with real consequences. Tony couldn't think about it for too long, for fear of losing his mind.
The hunger that sometimes curdled his stomach, was a welcome distraction. The thirst in his throat wasn’t unappreciated either. At least sometimes it would make him forget that he was so sick with grief that he could barely stand.
Tony knew nobody was coming for him, he had accepted it a long time ago. He always knew the journey he had started on so long ago, wouldn’t last forever. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t so bothered by the prospect of death. He just hoped the other Avengers were out there, doing their best to keep the world functioning somehow.
He knew they must have felt the burden of every soul that had faded away, he knew that because he felt it too. Even trapped in a steel box far up in the sky. Tony felt helpless, he felt like the world was crushing him. He felt like Atlas, holding up the Earth on his shoulders. It was more of a burden than anything Tony had ever bared. It was more than just Ultron, it was more than anything else. It was pure pain, unadulterated and frightening.
Tony felt mostly responsible for not having done something sooner. The dream Wanda had given him, it had always felt like a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled, and well now, now it was.
Tony wasn’t sure who was even left. And he honestly didn’t want to know. But in his dream, it was the loss of Steve that had really thrown Tony over the edge. That was when he really lost hope, that’s when he thought of Ultron. A world without Steve Rogers was simply no world at all. It certainly wasn’t one worth living in.
Tony didn’t really pray, he never went to church if he could help it. And when aliens fall from the sky, well God kind of seems like a big scam. But Tony had started to pray, sometimes when he was trying to sleep, he hadn’t managed it yet but he tried, he would pray. Just for a few moments, and not out loud. Just in his head, where the words would ricochet around his brain. But it helped.
And in those moments, Tony wished that Steve had made it out of the ashes.
Tony knew there was somewhere deep in his heart where buried feelings sat. Betrayal and hurt, though it seemed so inconsequential now. Like fighting over a cookie when there isn't any milk left anyway. There was something more too. Something deeper and bigger sat in his heart. It was something Tony couldn't even acknowledge because in doing so he would give it power. And Tony thought it might kill him. But no, Tony didn't feel any resentment, anymore. He had found his peace with that and if anything all he felt was a desperate need for Steve to be okay. For him to have made it out alive because that felt like all he had now. A whisper and a prayer.
And it was hard to find hope in a spaceship so very far from home. Tony saw his own death looming, he saw it in his reflection when he stared out at the galaxies. He saw it in his eyes and he felt it down deep inside. He saw it when he stared at his broken helmet and remembered the battle that had been the beginning of the end.
Everyone comes and goes, Tony knew that. He did. But he thought that maybe, if Steve Rogers still graced the Earth.
Then maybe there was a bud of hope blossoming somewhere. And one day it would be a flower.
It felt like a silly thought but it was all Tony had out there, all alone. At least that was how it felt most of the time.
Tony sat back against the side of the ship. He looked out at the stars and the space dust, and he wondered if it was all a dream. It wasn’t because when Tony pinched himself, he felt it.
And there was Nebula, who was mostly silent as she walked around. Tony didn’t look at her much, he couldn’t stand to see the hatred that must be in her eyes. The sadness. The look that said he shouldn’t have saved you.
Tony already knew it all, and he felt it all too. He didn’t have any comfort to give her, he didn’t have any insults that he could take anymore. All he could do was breathe and be a calming presence. Mostly because Tony didn’t cry. He didn’t have it in him anymore.
Hope wasn’t dead but it didn’t live in Tony either. It only lived in what he wished for the Earth and that was Steve. The other Avengers were in his mind too, of course. But he didn’t pray for them, mostly because he knew that without Steve they weren’t a team. They were heroes, but what good is a hero without a purpose? Without a cause? Without a voice that will always ring true, and just, and fairly without fail?
Tony wanted that for them. He thought maybe they needed it, to stay afloat and so that’s why Tony prayed. He imagined it was a very Steve thing to do, but really Tony didn’t have any other way to help.
He had recorded a message for Pepper, just last night. Before that he had sent countless signals trying to reach somebody, anybody, but somehow he knew it was all in vain. He had wanted to reassure Pepper somehow through his message, he had meant to tell her that he would dream of her and that it was always her. But that had made Tony feel weird and a voice in the back of his head had protested loudly when Tony had tried to say it. Tony hadn't wanted to dwell on it so he had just cut the message short.
Hey, if you can get ahold of the, um, team. Just maybe let them know that I passed away peacefully or something and make sure Steve knows that, uh, you know what? Um, nevermind, just make sure they're okay for me.
Tony hadn't known what to say. There was really nothing like impending doom to render your tongue utterly useless. And so that had been that.
But now it was the morning and Tony knew the ship was almost out of oxygen. Which meant this was really it. He could almost feel the thickness in the air, the end drawing nearer and nearer and he wasn't scared. Because on Earth the sun would rise and the day would begin. And then the same thing was going to happen the next day.
Tony continued to look out the windows. He supposed that this wasn’t a terrible ending to his story, it felt oddly right. Like coming full circle around a track. This was his logical conclusion. Tony felt his eyelids get heavy, and for once he thought sweet sleep might finally come to him.
But Tony blinked his eyes open when he heard rustling that signified some sort of movement. It was Nebula, and she had her mouth agape, staring out the window like Tony had been doing.
Tony followed her gaze, wondering what had caught her attention.
It was just a small speck, but steadily coming closer. Tony sat up, ignoring how his muscles ached and his head throbbed.
“What is that?” Tony asked, his voice a low grumble. There wasn’t much energy left in him. Thankfully, Nebula heard him and she turned her head towards him. Tony found nothing in her gaze. Just blissful blank emptiness. It was a point of comfort somehow, to have his insides reflected back at him.
“I don’t know. But I think it’s for you.” Nebula said, as if she was passing over a phone call, and for a second, Tony thought he saw emotion flash in her eyes, but then she was turning away and Tony was left to look back out the window in wonder.
Was there really someone out there?
Tony couldn’t believe it but there was proof, evidence, sitting right in front of his eyes. Tony lifted himself on to his feet, with what was not a small amount of struggle. He approached the glass on the east end of the spaceship and lifted his fingers to press against it, reaching out. The glass was cold, but Tony didn’t remove his fingers.
It felt like years but it was only minutes, and it was some sort of spacecraft, and it was coming for them. And if that didn’t already make Tony’s stomach twist, then surely that flash of blond hair he saw through the spacecraft's windshield was going to give him a heart attack.
The spacecraft loomed closer and Tony blinked, wondering if it had been the trick of a light. But, god, he could recognize that face anywhere. And their eyes met for just a moment, the spacecraft now only a few feet away. That shade of blue was just so achingly familiar. And maybe it was the lack of oxygen making him go crazy, or maybe it was something else entirely, but Tony felt like he had come to life.
Somewhere, a flower was blooming.