An arrow was nocked into a bow. The archer behind firmly gripped it tight as it was aiming towards the target. Clint Barton held up a few arrows while mentoring his daughter, Lila Barton, on shooting one.

"Okay, hold on. Don't shoot. You see where you're going?" Clint asked.

"Mhm," Lila hummed.

"Okay, now let's worry about how you get there." Clint corrected his daughter's foot to the proper position and adjusted her shooting stance. "Here. Can you see?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Mhm." Clint pushed Lila's hair in front of her face while covering her left eye.

"How about now?"

Both Lila and Clint giggled and there was a target nailed on a tree. The rest of Barton family was having a picnic in the field.

"All right. Ready your fingers," Clint informed.

"Nice," Cooper said.

"Nice throw, kiddo," Laura complimented.

"You go."

"Hey, you guys want mayo or mustard, or both?"

Lila looked at Clint and asked, "Who wants mayo on a hotdog?"

"Probably your brothers," Clint replied, turning to his wife. "Uh, two mustard, please! Thanks, mama."

Laura faced Nathaniel and asked, "Mayo or mustard?"

"How about ketchup?" Nathaniel suggested.

"Ketchup? I can do ketchup."

"Mind your elbow," Clint said as Lila released the arrow and it hit the target directly in the bullseye. "Hahaha! Good job, Hawkeye. Go get your arrow."

"Hey guys! Enough practice, soup's on!"

"All right, we're coming; we're hungry." Clint looked behind him, but there was no one there, but dust being blown away by the wind. "Lila, let's go." Clint started to look around. "Lila?" He started to move and look around, and picked up the bow she had. "Honey?" He looked around to see Laura and the boys, only they were gone. He looked seriously panicked and confused as he hurriedly dropped the arrows and jogged over to where they were. "Hey, babe! Babe? Babe? Boys? Boys? Laura?"

Lightning crackled.

SOMEWHERE IN SPACE

Nebula and Tony were on the ship playing paper football.

"Wrra!" Nebula, frustrated, put her hands in a fighting stance while looking at Tony.

"You don't need to do that," Tony said. "Because uh... you're just holding position." Nebula flicked a paper football toward Tony. "Oh yeah, that was close." Nebula once again flicked a paper football toward Tony. "That's a goal. We're now one apiece."

"I would like to try again." Nebula flicked a paper football towards Tony.

"We're tied up. Feel the tension? It's fun." Tony poorly flicked a paper football toward Nebula. "That was terrible. Now you have a chance to win." Nebula flicked the paper football toward Tony.

"And... you've won. Congratulations." Tony reached his hand out to shake Nebula's hand. "Fair game. Good sport." Nebula shook Tony's hand. "Have fun?"

"It was fun."

Tony's hand reached forward to turn on his busted helmet. He was sitting on the floor of a gloomy Benatar. The weight of the recent events of Infinity War were evident in his posture. He tapped the helmet with a sigh and said, "This thing on?" The helmet scanned Tony. Tony leaned against the wall while taking deep breaths. He looked skinnier and weak with malnutrition. "Hey, Miss Potts... Pep. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're... if you're still... Oh god, I hope so. Today is day 21, uh 22." Tony stood at a window to stare out in space, waiting for his impending doom to arrive. "You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, Thanks to the blue meanie back there." Nebula was sitting in the back of the Benatar. "You'd love her. Very practical. Only a tiny bit sadistic. Some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time." Tony and Nebula were working on the fuel cells of the Benatar. "But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it. And Pep, I ... I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like... well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt. I should probably lie down. Please know that... when I drift off, I will think about you. Because it's always you."

With that, Tony turned the helmet off. He rubbed his thumb over the left eye and leaned down, to what would be his last sleep. Nebula walked over to him and carried him to Drax's seat and laid him there. She walked away, dejected.

A vast bluish nebula illuminated the space surrounding them. Tony's face, for the first time, showed age and weakness. There was a light on his face, which grew brighter and brighter until he was forced to open his eyes. The light source was Carol Danvers.

AVENGERS COMPOUND - BATHROOM

Steve was holding a blade, having just shaved off his beard. He sighed and looked into a side mirror. The mirror suddenly started shaking, slowly at first, then severely.

At the yard in the Avengers Compound, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Mirna and Rhodey walked out looking at something; the Benatar carried by Carol Danvers as she landed the spacecraft. The landing gears deployed as they touched down. The entry hatch opened, and Tony and Nebula walked out, Tony being supported by Nebula. Steve ran to Tony to help him stand up. Tony gripped Steve's arm as he joined him.

"Couldn't stop him," Tony said.

"Neither could we," Steve replied.

"I lost the kid."

"Tony, we lost."

"Is, uh...?" Tony struggled to ask about Pepper.

"Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" Pepper cried before she and Tony embraced.

"It's okay."

Rocket sat with Nebula and took her hand, both silently mourning their losses.

Mirna rested a hand on her stomach and smiled sadly. "Mala ljubav, we'll see your father again. I have to have that hope. James, come back to us. Please. I beg of you."

(Little love (Croatian))

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