Avengers Endgame ft. Reader

(1)22 Days

I'm sitting in the corner of the room, reading an old book while Tony and Nebula play table football. Music softly echoes the ship as the two compete and Tony teaches her the rules of the game. I look down at my old, smelly shirt and lift it up to check the dressing on my 3-week-old wound.

I get up and go to the ship's bathroom. I find dressing,—the little bit we have left— surgical tape, and the kind of alcohol used to clean cuts.

I pull my shirt over my head and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look at my body. I look at the pants that sit loosely on my hips, and the ribs that rest under my skin like they are covered with a sheet.

I've always been relatively confident in my body. Sure, I wasn't a size zero but I knew I didn't need to be. No I'm sick. And I look sick.

I peel off the old dressing that covers my stab wound and lightly run my fingers around it as I look around at the old scars and bruises.

I feel like I want to cry but at the same time, I can't. No more tears can escape my tired eyes. I haven't eaten in days and the smallest things make me dizzy.

I sniffle and shake my head. I replace the dressing, using up the last bit I have left. I wrap it around my torso twice before it hits the end of the roll.

I tape it to keep it in place and pull the loose shirt back on over my head before heading back out.

I find Nebula sitting by herself at the table doing nothing.

"Where's Tony?" I ask weakly. My voice is dry and grumbly.

She doesn't answer, she just points to a room. I nod and decide I'd better say goodnight. Or goodbye.

No Perspective

Tony clicks the buttons on his old, damaged helmet before it makes a beep.

"This thing on?" He sighs and taps it.

"Hey, Miss Pots... Pep." He leans back. "If you find this recording, don't post it on social media it's gonna be a real tear jerker." He pauses.

"I don't know if you're ever gonna see these... I don't even know if you're still... God, I hope so." His voice is quiet and grumbly.

"Today is day... twenty-one? No... uh, twenty-two. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into the literal void of space I'd say we're feeling better today." He sighs.

"Y/n/n's infection has almost run it's course, thanks to the blue-meanie back there." He pauses again.

"Y/n/n she... she's keeping me going." He says. "God, you would've hated to see her in so much pain. She cried for days- Not around us, of course. She would go to another room and come back pretending she was fine so that we didn't worry." He thinks back quietly.

"So, the fuel cells were cracked during battle. We figured out how to reverse the iron charge, bought ourselves about 48 hours of flight time." He sighs. "Uh, but it's now dead in the water... a thousand light years from the nearest 7Eleven. Oxygen will run out tomorrow morning. And that'll be it." He concludes, somewhat peacefully.

"You know what, Pep... I know I said no more surprises but... I gotta say I was really hoping to pull off one last one." His voice gets quieter.

"But it looks like... well, you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, actually, if you grabble for a couple weeks and then move on with enormous guilt..." He trails off with his head in his hand.

"I should probably lie down for a minute, rest my eyes." He mumbles with closed eyes. He knows this is it. In this moment he's accepting defeat.

"Please know, that when I drift off it'll be like every night lately. We're fine, totally fine." His voice turns to a whisper.

"I dream about you. Cause it's always you."

Before Tony can turn off the video, there's a knock.

"Tony?" A small voice calls out before walking in. It's Y/n.

"Hey, sweetheart." He says quietly. The thing about Y/n and Tony is that they've never had a sentimental relationship. They had jokes and semi-offensive nickname. Within the last couple weeks, they became close yet so distant. Truth is, Tony sees her as his child. In his mind he's responsible for her the way he would be responsible for his own child. And now they only have each other.

"I'm just saying goodbye, do you wanna...?" He points to the helmet.

Y/n nods. "I might look a little different." She jokes before getting into frame and sitting down next to Tony.

"Who's this one for?" She asks.

"Pep." Tony answers.

"Oh, hey, Pepper. I miss you guys." She smiles lightly and speaks softly. "I hope everything is... as okay as it can be." She says. "Tony's been a real handful but, I guess he's not too bad to put up with." They both chuckle softly.

"We might not be able to see you again, but we know you guys are going to be all right." She says quietly.

"Tell the team we said goodnight." Y/n yawns. "We love you guys." She mumbles.

Y/n has also accepted the defeat. In somewhat of a different way than Tony. She's also quiet about it, because to her it's something the three of them have known since the second week of being on the ship. She gave up on hope right after Thanos snapped his fingers and everyone she loved died. After all of their efforts, it took everyone who's ever fought with the Avengers alongside the Dora Milaje and all of the Wakandan soldiers, and they still lost.

The difference between Y/n and Tony is that she's okay with it. It took a while for her to be okay with the thought of never going home, and it wasn't easy. But she did it. Tony fought to the very end until there was absolutely nothing else to do.

Tony leans forwards and shuts it off. Y/n lays down and sighs.

"Thank you, Tony." She says quietly and closes her eyes.

He turns back and looks at her tired face before answering.

"What for?" He asks.

She opens her eyes and swallows dryly.

"For taking a chance on me."

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