The Liberty War || Infinity War & Endgame

Chapter Forty: Cheers, For Old Times' Sake

Music is "Cheers To Us - Acoustic" by Haywood feat. Loote.

Picture is behind the scenes on the set of Avengers: Endgame.

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CHAPTER FORTY: Cheers, For Old Times' Sake

"All right. We have a plan. Six stones, three teams." Steve raises the bottle of Pym particles. "One shot. Last call to back out. No one is going to blame you for sitting this one out. The odds are against us, time is against us, and if any of us screw up, it may end up being a one-way trip." His eyes shift around the room, meeting each person present. "Speak now."

When no one pipes up or raises an objection, Tony hops to his feet and pats Rhodey on the shoulder. "I think we're all in, Rogers."

Steve nods, a semblance of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. As he places the vial on the table, he gives a final order for the early morning. "Okay then. Everyone, get some rest. Refuel and refresh. We've been working through the day and night, and none of us are at our best. We'll plan to head out tonight. Until then, dismissed."

As fast as we came together, the group splits up. Tony heads for the launchpad hanger. Rocket and Nebula head back to the Milano to check in on their off-planet comrades. Rhodey, Scott, Eggsy, Clint, and Bruce head towards the dorms, probably to catch up on some well-needed sleep. Thor seems fit to stay in the chair he's currently in, though I'm sure he'll make a break for the kitchen or bar at some point. Steve and Natasha remain behind in the command center, keeping their conversation private with low voices.

Out of curiosity, I follow the first one to leave, across the lawn and back to the hanger. There, I find Tony checking and re-checking each of the monitors and devices he's strung across the steel warehouse floor. He tilts his head in my direction as I approach, but makes no move to look directly at me or stop what he's doing.

Running my hand along one of the large cables strapped onto the side of the launch pad, I keep my gaze up, looking towards the array of mirrors above us, as I say, "You know, once upon a time in a Quinjet over Germany, you told me you used to love your father's stories about me."

Tony chuckles under his breath, still keeping his back towards me. "Yeah, well what seven-year-old doesn't love grand 'ole tales about Captain America and Lady Liberty? You've seen the comics, I'm sure."

"Oh, I have. I was there when they were written."

"Ahh, right. Because...you're ancient."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, please, Tony. Is that the best you have? Have you lost your witty sense of humor in the last five years, or are you merely getting to my stature in age as well?"

At that, the brunet turns towards me, sits in a cross-legged position on the floor, and stares at me with a bemused expression. "I'll have you know that I've had to cut out a lot of my colorful language due to Morgan. And Peps, but mostly Morgan. I'm actually a decent dad, you know."

"Was there ever any doubt?"

Tony purses his lips into a thin line, then turns back to dabbling on one of the small holoscreens beside the largest panel on the control mount. "Didn't everyone? At least a little bit?"

Closing the distance between us, I gesture to the spot across from him. "May I?" Tony nods once, flourishing with a hand. I plop down on the chilled ground, mirroring Tony's leg placements. "I don't know about who you're speaking, but as for myself, I never once doubted that you would be a bloody fantastic father. Not once."

He halts for a moment, then turns to select a different set of logistical tools on the holo's maintenance field. "Not to go all soft and weepy, but sometimes...never mind."