ƬIMΣ [MCU]

crescendo finito [twelve]

TCHAIKOVSKY - SWAN LAKE 

   The fabric of Stephen's cloak was soothing on Spencer's scratched cheek, she was leaning herself on his shoulder. Well more of her back was against his arm, her knees were up and the lipstick stained Vans were flat on the uneven rubble of the ground.   

"What do you suppose is happening?" Murmured through Peter's lips, Tony was busy repairing his own wounds. Whilst the Guardians were chatting amongst themselves, very hush-hush. 

"Another war...on another planet...for another fucking stone." Spencer's voice was a little better, quiet with no stuttering, but it was like every two words a red light would appear and she'd stop to breathe before continuing to speak. 

"Strange, you saw it, where are they?" Stark questioned, a small hint of sarcasm in his tone of voice.

"Wakanda." Spencer blinked twice and scrunched up her nose.

"Really? Wakanda?" 

"The bot was there." Tony's head perked up at his creation,

"Vision? Was there?" Stephen clamped his mouth shut, in fear of having given to much away. Spencer gave him a look, as if to shut up and the duo silently agreed on not saying more, of what they've seen or heard.

"Drop it, Star--" The words once spoken, were now bellowed, ricocheting off the cortex of her brain, making her right ear ring profusely.  

"I had just lost EVERYTHING...I needed TIME, for ONCE IN MY GODDAMN LIFE!"

"This is the fight of our lives."

"Aw man."

"Something is happening."

"Quill?" 

"I'm sorry."

"There was no other way...I--"

"Hey Strange, talk to me." Spencer blinked. Staring into nothing, the last five sentences ringing in her head like a church bell, but it was anything but Holy. Rubbing her fingers together subconsciously, tremors threatened her figure.

"I...don't know what just happened." 

"What did you hear?" Rugged lips opened, only to seize speaking, for someone else had beat her to the finale of this war.

"Something is happening." Both heads of the Strange's altered to view the voice that belonged to Mantis, heavy goosebumps flaunted over Spencer's skin. The ebony eyes glossy with confusion and adamant fright as her body disappeared in flakes of dove grey. Spencer arose from her position next to Stephen, wobbling and frantically looking between the group of people in front of them. Stark didn't know what was happening, Peter was scared shitless, while the two remaining Guardians just saw their mate turn into a pile of nothing. 

"Quill?" Drax gawked at his partner, breathing heavily at the dissolving of his entire being. The leader looked on in agonizing shock, glancing back at Stark,

"Steady, Quill!"  The man dismissed his attempt at comfort, muttering his final words.

"Oh man."  Gone. Stark whirled around, waves of anxiety leaving his own body, staring at the father-daughter magic pair.

"There was no other way." Stephen peered at his daughter, steel meeting stone. The young doctor grappled at his fading scarred hands and arms, ash filing threw her fingers instead of meeting the fabric that clothed his skin.

"No, no, no! Dad, D-Dad?! NO!"

"I--" Flint colored ash had replaced his mouth as single tears ran out of the sliver of his eyes left, admiring his daughter before was too, was gone in a wisp. Flakes dotted the palms of her hands. This one is gonna leave a mental scar.

"No, no, not you, it can't be you!" Erratic breaths left her lips, hyperventilating quicker than they all faded. You failed, Spencer. YOU FAILED HIM. The winding, quaking hands buried into the clumped locks of her mocha hair as the world spun. With that spinning, came Spencer's eyes rolling back into her head as her feeble being collapsed onto her front. Head first.

"What is it you do exactly? Besides failing, Strange." 

SPENCER STRANGE WILL RETURN