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Tony
Everything is dissipating around where I stand, frozen, forced to bear witness and unable to look away from the horrors playing out in front of me. I see Peter, reduced to nothing but a pile of ash as he begs for help I can't give. I see Pepper, rising from a chasm, pierced through the heart on a bloody spear. She's saying something, but I can't hear it. She's reaching out, but I can't get to her. I scream, but she can't hear me. No one can hear me. They're gone. They're all gone. There's nothing I can do.
The ground crumbles under my feet and I fall backwards. I land on the battlegrounds, my ears popping on impact, and the clamor of an unfair fight floods my head. Shouting. Shrieking. The clash of metal, the thud of bodies hitting the floor. Friends bodies, enemies bodies, laying hauntingly still in pools of shared blood.
I see Thanos, and he has the stones. All of them.
He turns to me and smirks.
And then everyone is turning to me. And they're chanting. "Do something. Do something. Do something."
I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut. I can't speak. My lips won't part. My vocal chords are tied. I can't, I can't, I can't...
"Tony."
I look up to see Steve's face looming over the horizon.
I bolt upright in bed and gasp for air.
It takes me a minute to get my bearings again. I'm drenched in sweat, my blankets are halfway off the bed and tangled around my legs, and I'm gulping in air like I just ran a marathon. Every muscle in my body is tensed and ready for action. There are no actions left to take.
I sit up against the headboard and attempt to collect myself. The darkness is suffocating, so I click on my desk lamp and blink through the harsh yellow light it emits.
It's not the first time I've had this dream, though it's never exactly the same. Sometimes the events are shuffled around, sometimes it's Pepper that dissipates in my arms, sometimes I snap, sometimes I don't.
Steve's new.
The likeliness of getting back to sleep now is slim to none, and closer to none— given that I haven't been able to swing it, yet. I usually use these rude awakenings as an excuse to get up early and start working, with the knowledge that I'll probably fall asleep at my work station sometime in the afternoon, regardless of how much coffee I force into my system.
I don't want to work right now, though. I'm squinting against the glare of my phone, and my finger is hovering over the call button, and I don't even remember pulling up his contact but I'm not about to give myself time to over-think it. The phone rings three times before he answers.
"Hello?" Steve mumbles, voice gravelly and thick with sleep.
"Hi," I say. Pause. "It's Tony."
"Tony..." Rustling sheets, a click. He sounds slightly clearer the next time he speaks. "Are you okay?"
"Um...Yes? Physically, yes. Otherwise...Uh...Sorry, I know it's late. I probably shouldn't have called."
"No, what's wrong?"
"It's late. Forget it. You need your beauty rest, go back to sleep, it's nothing. Goodnight."
"W-"
I hang up and set down my phone. God, my heart rate has only increased, I don't know why I thought that'd be a good—My phone is ringing. It's the National Anthem. Shit.
YOU ARE READING
Aftershock
FanfictionIt's been a few months since the events of Endgame. Tony Stark managed to survive the snap with the help of his fellow Avengers, but it came with a price; his arm, and the knowledge that he can never bring back his Pepper--taken from him years befor...