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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE This Isn't a Story
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IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE to forget about the battle raging around them, as if it was something—in all its violence—that could be so easily cast aside. It would have been nice to pretend, if only for a moment, that everything was okay, that they'd already won and were rejoicing in their victory in a tearful and perfectly safe reunion. It would have been nice to hear that they'd all survived, that not one more person had lost their life at the hands of Thanos, that the only injuries sustained were mild and not at all debilitating. It would have been nice for Cecelia Olivier, ex-villain, Avenger, Phantom, teenage girl, to be able to take a breath, to let the adults take over, for once.
Unfortunately, those kinds of sweet, tied-up-with-a-bow endings only happened in stories. And, despite how much Cecelia wanted everything to be over, it wasn't. The war was still occurring, people were still dying, and Thanos—the one who had ruined everything—was still alive and kicking. A mystery was still rolling inside of Cecelia's head, a question that she almost didn't want to hear the answer to, and she'd only just begun searching for the clues. So, real life had to resume. Cecelia could not hide herself within the arms of her mentor forever. At one point, she had to get back into it.
Still, the moment she broke apart from Mr. Stark, she, strangely, immediately missed the comfort of the embrace. Which may have made her childish and clingy and needy, but the last twenty-four hours had been far more than she'd ever bargained for. She'd been to space. She'd fought aliens. She'd met aliens. Surely, she deserved a moment to act like a kid.
Peter grinned, stepping up to stand beside Cecelia. "I guess you like us a lot more than you were letting on, huh, Mr. Stark?"
He rolled his eyes playfully. "I wouldn't go that far, Underoos." Then, only a second later: "Hey, what happened to your wrist, Olivier?"
"Thanos broke it," Cecelia responded. "He crushed it in his giant ass hand." Mr. Stark's face darkened.
"Man, I don't even care that this isn't the same Thanos. I'll kick his ass, anyway."
Peter cocked his head. "What?" he asked, at the same time Cecelia repeated, "Isn't the same Thanos?"
Mr. Stark met their gazes, then sighed. "There's a lot I gotta get you two caught up on. For now, though, I have to get back to it. I won't bother suggesting that you two sit this one out, either. I know you won't, even with the broken wrist you've got there, Cecelia. Just keep on going, and make sure neither the purple douchebag nor his lackeys get their hands on the Infinity Gauntlet. Legolas should have it right now, but who knows. He might be passing it along like a hot potato."
