Avengers Stories //Oneshots//

One Last Sacrifice.

Day two of whumptober: alternate prompt of 'sacrifice'

"And I... am..."

He forced his fingers, covered with unfamiliar metal and numb from the feeling of electricity, of power that he couldn't control, coursing through his body. Every part of his body was in agony, burning from the inside out, but he had to do this. He had to. Not for himself, but for everyone. His family. His friends. The world. Five years ago, too many people were taken too soon. If it costed his life to make it right again, he would gladly make that trade if it meant so many people would be reunited again. Even if it meant he would never see his daughter again.

Morgan. His sweet, beautiful, intelligent daughter. His bundle of joy. His beacon of hope in the darkest time of his life. The last time he saw her, she was waving goodbye to him while stuffing Captain Crunch berries in her mouth by the handful, calling "I love you 3,000, Daddy!" around a mouth full of the sugary cereal. He had grinned, called the same thing back, and said he would be home for supper. The last thing he heard when leaving the house was Pepper lightly scolding her for speaking with her mouth full. He'd laughed, for just a moment forgetting exactly where he was heading and what he was doing. Everything had been perfect - but he had learned a long time ago that peace could quickly turn to war. They had found a way to fix the universe and no one could wait, not with only one shot and the quickly building hope of bringing back all who were lost. He only got the chance to call her between forming the plan and going on the mission, but he wished he could see her joyful face one more time.

But she was why he was doing this. She, Peter, Harley - he was doing this for his kids, all kids, the next generation of the world who deserve to grow up in an environment that wasn't scarred from a large-scale, permanent loss of life. They were the legacy. The successors. They deserved this. They deserved to live to see tomorrow. He thought of Peter and his face, one he hadn't seen in five years. He hadn't aged, he hadn't gotten the chance to grow in the timeline he was born into, but he could continue his life as long as he did this. There was no other way.

'This is why I lived,' he found himself thinking. Time had slown down. He wasn't sure if it was just him or if the time stone was working on his inner command, his inner want, but either way, it let him think. A million thoughts filled his head, going twice the speed they normally did. Tony didn't think that had ever been possible, but the last few years had shattered the meaning of 'impossible' for him. It had no meaning because you never truly knew if something was impossible or just waiting to happen. 'This is why I survived the cave. This is why I survived palladium poisoning. This is why I lived all those times I should have died. This is the reason for my life. My destiny. My fate. My goal. This is what I was born to do.'

In those few moments, Tony made peace with his decision. It would hurt - it already did, but something told him it would be so much worse when he actually snapped - but it would be worth it. Oh so worth it. There would be so many things he would miss, so many people he would never talk to again, but at least they would be safe. They would be able to move on without him. The world always turns, no matter who is in it or not, and just because it was him, that didn't make a difference. He was never above anyone else. He never had been, no matter how many people thought it. He was a guy who had done his share of good and bad things. His may have had more dramatic consequences, but that didn't mean he wasn't human. Everyone made mistakes and he was never an exception. Ultron was a big example of that.

He always believed that no matter how many bad decisions or mistakes people made, they could repent from them. He just hoped this would be enough to make up for his list of terrible deeds. Tony wanted to do his best for the world, even if it hadn't always loved him back, and maybe he would be forgiven after this. Maybe the blood would be washed from his past. No, he didn't want to be a martyr. He didn't mind if he was forgotten. He must wanted to make up for all he'd done and be a hero in his family's life. As long as he got that, well, he needed nothing more.

The man pulled himself back into focus agains and he found himself staring into the shocked eyes of Thanos. He knew there was a battle raging like a whirl wind around him, his wife, friends, and family all fighting for what they so desperately wanted, but right then, it was only them two. Thanos said he knew him. He said he respected him. Tony wasn't sure what exactly he did to earn his respect, but he sure as heck didn't need it. This titan had destroyed the universe. His world. His family. Now he was going to pay.

'Take this you big, ugly purple raisin.'

"...Ironman."

He pushed his fingers across each other and the responding 'snap' was almost drowned out by the pain that completely absorbed his body. His suit was destroyed, the nanites fried to bits, and he took on the full pain of all six stones. No human was meant to wield them. No being was supposed to hold all six. The pain was the worst thing he ever felt, had ever thought he would feel, and something he could never imagine, but he didn't scream. He wouldn't give Thanos that satisfaction. He wouldn't give him a minuscule amount of joy over his pain, nor did he want those around him to hear. Tony kept his jaw wired shut, his eyes forced open to look the man who haunted his nightmares in the eyes as his entire army fell apart.

Time had no meaning as he leant against a rock, trying to calm a heart he wasn't sure was beating anymore. But his eyes were open. He was concious. He had to be alive, right? He dimly felt a metal hand touch his head and he dragged his eyes up to look at his oldest friend. Rhodey. There were tears in his best friend's eyes, a somber look in his eyes that tore at Tony's heart. Then Peter was in front of him, babbling and crying and it ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡. It hurt to see his usually bright intern- no, son - so upset, so sad, over him. He wanted to reach out and pull him into the second hug of the day, the second hug in the entire time of knowing him, but he couldn't get his arms to move. He felt so entirely numb - he couldn't even speak. He couldn't even say how proud he was. He couldn't tell him how much he loved him. Tony just hoped Peter knew it already.

Hands gently pulled Peter back - not far, don't take him far, please, not now - and finally there was Pepper. His voice box suddenly started working, jolted into a last action when she came into view. "Pep,' he choked out and watched as she smiled sadly. Distantly, he heard her ask about his vitals, but couldn't hear Friday's answer over the static in his ears. His vision was dimming out around the edges, but he had to hold on. 'Just a little longer,' he begged his failing body. 'Just another minute. Please.'

Her voice broke through to him. "We're going to be okay," she said. Her tone was wobbly, but reassuring. Tony knew she wasn't referring to him and her, but to her, Morgan, everyone. She was telling him things would be okay when he was gone and that was exactly what he needed for his tense, coiled body to become at ease for the first time in hours. Her hand came up to rest on the arc reactor, the thing that had once kept him alive, and electricity jolted through his body, starting some functions up again. Slowly and painstakingly, he brought his unarmored hand up to close over hers. A piece of their vows came back to him: til death do us part.

He just hadn't expected death to come so soon.

Tony could feel each thump of his heart now. Each beat it was slowing down, becoming weaker and weaker as his body succumbed to his injuries. He could no longer feel the pain, only the numb peace as his soul began to leave his body. He was leaving his family, his friends, but Pepper would never lie to him. She never had. They would be okay. They all were going to be okay.

He was going to see Natasha again.

A last, soft breath entered his overworked, damaged lungs just as a familiar pair of lips pressed to his temple. He could no longer hold on. The darkness had consumed his body, his vision, his soul. He had been running on borrowed time and his clock had finally ran out, but he was at peace with it. He had helped to save the world. The universe. He had protected the people he cared about and that was all that mattered.

The breath left his lungs and he couldn't find it in him to take another one.

'𝑆𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑒, 𝑁𝑎𝑡."

The world through his fingers.

"You weren't supposed to die, too."

"Since when have I ever listened?"

"Never, shellhead."