We're in the Endgame Now | Endgame [2]

Chapter 2

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Irina paced from one end of the small kitchen in the common area, alongside the long wooden table just outside the kitchen, then back again. She kept her shaky hands occupied with Fanny's collar, the overload of information still sinking in; the Infinity Stones, Thanos, the Battle in Wakanda .  .  . Vision's fate.

  "So, Thanos planned and succeeded in wiping millions of lives across the entire universe —including my girlfriend, our dog and family— with the snap of his fingers? And, to top things off, no one's heard from Dad and he's presumed to be quite literally lost in space?" Irina stopped briefly, and met Natasha's emerald gaze across the table. The younger woman's shoulders slumped forward, "Am I seriously processing this correctly?"

  "Unfortunately, yes."

  "Oh my god .  .  ." Irina resumed her stressful pacing as she ran an unoccupied hand through her dark straightened locks, heart racing faster.

  "But we don't know any of that to be true yet," Natasha remained optimistic. During any other time, Irina would've appreciated the optimism, but not now. It doesn't change facts —Yelena's gone.

  "This can't be happening. Fuck!" Irina kicked the nearest chair into the bookshelf, books and objects falling to the floor. Natasha inclined her head slightly, while Irina exhaled shakily, "Where's Steve? He's been gone too long."

  "He'll be here," Nat assured. "Give-'em some time. It's been a day for us all."

  Irene swallowed the burning bile in her throat and sniffled; losing Yelena's still extremely fresh on the brain. "She was supposed to meet us in New York tomorrow. We were supposed to see and do so many things, things she couldn't stop talking about." The corner of the Widow's lips curled up sadly. "Lane was so excited about this trip." Irene inclined her head, "In the last two years, we'd only been to the states a few times. Most of our trips were to Ohio. Dad and Pepper even came out once, for the holidays."

"That sounds nice," Natasha said softly.

  "It was." The dark-haired woman sniffled, then wiped the fresh tear away, "It really was, Natty .  .  ."

  "Irene," someone called. They entered the common area, rounding the bookshelf she kicked the chair into, and she smiled in relief.

  Placing Fanny's collar on the table, she hurried to them, wrapping her arms around their torso, "Uncle Rhodey .  .  ."

  "Hey, kid," he wrapped his arms around her too.

  Irina pulled back, "Dad made you something to walk?" War Machine nodded, "It's good to see you again, Rhodey. I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner."

  "No I get it," he folded his arms across his chest, his silver War Machine suit elsewhere —the Workshop, Irina assumed— while his lower half's in matching leg braces. "You're too good to check in on your Uncle Rhodey." Despite the Thanos dilemma, that little mischievous smile Irina's known her entire life appeared on War Machine's lips; and she smiled too.

  Irene pulled Rhodey into another embrace —Natasha smiling smally at their interaction— then pulled back, shifting her gaze between her declared uncle and mother-figure, "Who else is in the Compound?"