Last Avenger

Chapter 7

The machine chirped in time with Steve's heart. It was slow, small pulses, but he was alive. He lay still in sedation on the bed, eyes closed, the centre point for the tubing and wiring keeping him alive and monitored. He hadn't stirred. His heart just chugged along despite it all. Ari sat in a chair at the end of the bed, the back facing Steve. Ravi stood at the wall with his arms across his chest. Next to him was the nightstand and upon it the near-empty pill bottle. He and Ari just observed Steve like there was nothing else to do.

"At least his pulse is stable," Ari yawned, rubbing a hand over their puffy, dry face to stay awake. Their eyes wandered toward the nightstand, but they fought their gaze back to the bed.

"Yeah," Guarav breathed, glancing at the monitor, "and his blood pressure is improving. The genny's got a few days' juice still, but hopefully we won't need it." He looked to Ari and his face brightened some. "You did a good job with that dressing."

Ari rolled their eyes sheepishly. "Well, I didn't clean it, so it's a miracle he didn't go into septic shock."

"Still probably saved his life."

Ari fought a smile and nodded.

Knuckles tapped on the door frame and the two turned to Pete in the doorway.

"What's up?" Guarav said.

"Just wanted to see how the patient's doing," Pete said pleasantly.

"It's looking better than it was," Guarav said. "He'll likely pull through."

"That's great!" Pete said.

"Well, we still don't know what recovery is gonna look like," Ari said.

Pete looked to Guarav who nodded at the pill bottle on the nightstand. Pete frowned and nodded seeing the three pills remaining. He stepped towards the bed and looked Steve over: he took note of the deepening wrinkles in his face, particularly the frown lines; bags hung under his eyes; the beard was getting to be equal parts salt and pepper; and the hair was becoming frayed, especially towards the ends. Pete smiled.

Ari scowled at him. "What."

Pete looked to them, his warm smile never cooling. "It's just funny. We've been living like this for about fifty years, and here lies a man who has still seen more than we ever have." He waddled over between Guarav and Ari. He crinkled his finger and took a shaky breath before outstretching his hands to them. "I know this might be a bit to ask, and, yes, I know Ryan would prefer I kept this to myself, but I just want to ask if you would join me in a prayer for Steve." His smile became regretfully gracious. "I understand if you aren't comfortable with that, in which case I will go."

Ari and Guarav looked to one another. Ari's face was strained with the tears they'd dared to cry earlier and the feelings that still wrought within them. Guarav glowered at Pete's request and stared at the floor.

Ari pursed their lips and drew a deep breath. "Yeah, let's do it." They placed their hand in Pete's.

Pete smiled gratefully at them then looked to Guarav. He still refused to look Pete in the eye. He fidgeted with his stance, then with his hands about his pockets.

"I just..."

"It's okay, Guarav," Pete said. "I understand this is still an open wound for you."

Guarav gritted his teeth. "It's just like what's even the point? The only manifestation of God we've gotten was a genocidal alien." His lip quivered and he eased a breath through puckered lips. "My family lived, but they pray to Thanos now. They think that's who or what God is." He looked to Pete as a tear dropped off his cheek, his voice just fragile breaths. "So who else is even supposed to be up there listening?" As the next thought entered his head, the fiery rage brewing within licked at and ignited his force. "'Cause it only seems like it's Thanos, or Thor who might have just fucked everything up for us!" He set his eyes shut, but the flood of tears came all the same. The breaths he drew were no longer enough and he ultimately surrendered, his shoulders rocking as he sobbed.