tainted dreams |p. parker ✔️

epilogue

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tainted dreams | epilogue

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A voice was heard in the background. Rosalie couldn't place a finger on the reason why she didn't feel scared. In fact, she didn't feel anything at all. Some of her senses were heightened despite the lack of a beating heart. She couldn't feel her heartbeat, was she dead?

The voice was still there when she opened her eyes, noticing how she was laying in the middle of a watery field. Her body refused to move, far too interested in the deep voice surrounding her like a familiar, warm blanket.

"Everybody wants a happy ending, right? But it doesn't always roll that way. Maybe this time."

Rosalie tried to stretch her arms up towards the bright sky but it was in vain, she still couldn't move a muscle. But her hearing was intact, the only body function that didn't suddenly give up on her. Listening closely to the words echoing around her, a soft gasp left her parted lips.

Tony's voice.

In the distance, his voice could be heard as if coming from an old record player. Her eyes roamed around the deep red sky, the weird color now ignored as she felt warmth all over her body. Tears were prickling the back of her eyes and the blonde couldn't help but let them flow freely down her face.

"I'm hoping if you play this back, it's in celebration. I hope families are reunited, I hope we get it back, and something like a normal version of the planet has been restored."

She gasped, her body finally allowing her to move. Quickly pushing herself upwards, Rosalie stared around but found nothing. The source of the voice wasn't present but she could still hear it, the sound merely inside her head. What she didn't understand was where it was coming from. Her imagination? Or was she hearing something from far away?

"So I thought I'd probably better record a little greeting, in the case of an untimely death on my part. Not that, death in any time isn't untimely. This time travel thing that we're gonna try and pull off tomorrow, it's got me scratching my head about the survivability of it all. But then again, that's the hero gig. Part of the journey is the end."

Now standing in the middle of the watery field, a whistle from behind her caught her attention. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned and locked eyes with him.

Tony.

She simply stared, mouth wide open and body paralysed. The man was leaning against a structure that Rosalie could have sworn wasn't there a few seconds before. His smile was pure, face clear and free of bruises and bloody scars.

It was then she noticed her own body and outfit. She was no longer holding her torso in pain, the blood that once stained her light hair long gone. In fact, she couldn't feel the stinging pain she had felt before everything went dark.