The Seventh Stone (Stony Marvel Story)

(Chapter 14)

NOTE: I OWE ALL OF THESE WORDS BUT THE "NOTHING LEFT TO BURN" : ITS FROM A SONG CALLED YOUR EX LOVER IS DEAD BY STARS (ALSO OBVIOUSLY THE LINES FROM ENDGAME LMAO)

THANK YOU AND ENJOY

He'll mean nothing to you before you know it.

Thanos? The man under the mask? My dad? Who were they TALKING about?

Frustrated, I slammed my fist into the toliet and huddled up deeper.

I curled up into a ball against the stall and shut the world out. Everything had stopped. It was silent, through cracks in an opening, for only a second.

"You alright Tony?" Rhodey stood by the door of the stall. "Y-yeah." I stood up, relaxing my arms and wiping my eyes. "I just think I had a bit too much to drink."

"Already? The party hasn't even lasted an hour."

I whimpered, partly from pain and from laughter. Rhodey nudged open the door and lend a hand. I gracefully took it, lifting to my clamming legs and twisted ankle that eventually collapsed. I fell over and Rhodey caught me. "Yeah, party time's over buddy," He sighed, throwing a supportive arm around my back.

I limped out of the bathroom, tripping over his feet a few times. We walked past the party, beyond the crowds of the unknown, and out to the patio. Rhodey pulled a chair facing the view of New York. The twinkling lights greeted me once again. "Take a seat," He gestured to the empty seat, and I crumbled in gratefully.

"I'm going to speak for you at this thing, okay? If you need anything, just give me a call." He pointed to his phone, and I nodded slowly. He looked at me for another second, blantly concerned. I said, "Rhodey. I'll be fine. Go enjoy this stupid party."

He reluctantly put his mask back on, patted my shoulder supporitvely, and headed back in.

I leaned into the chair, taking in the cool night air. I watched the city alive dwinder before me. No longer wondering what happened, I closed my eyes and grasped onto the serentiy placed right before me.

When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.

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The fast pats of footsteps woke me up from my doze-off. I yawned and stretched, watching a disheveled Steve run to the ledge of the patio. "Steve?" I asked, sitting up. "Are you okay?"

He slowly turned to me, and I gasped at the blood running down his cheek and the severed pieces reflecting off of his dim lit eyes. I stood up and walked toward him. "Steve, buddy, everything is going to work out," I tried to reassure him, but he instead took a step closer towards the edge.

"Like you would care if I jumped."

"Steve..."

"Like you'd care at all."

"We can get through this-"

He almost stepped back. For a second, he hesitated. Then, he turned around. I caught onto the blood running down from his eyes. He hissed, quietly, but loud enough.

"Over my dead body."

And with a snap, he jumped off the side and into the abyss.

I've got nothing for you.

I shot up.

No coordinates

It was like screaming underwater.