02 | BEYOND US ━━ 𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

nine

When his eyes regained enough strength to open after a few blinks, Nikolas groaned, feeling his ribs painfully realign. He was still on the ground, the cold earth pressing against his cheek as he stared sideways at the wreckage around him. Wanda knelt beside Vision's remains—what was left of him that was still recognizable. A wave of nausea twisted Nikolas' stomach as guilt stabbed at him like a knife. The sight of Vision's lifeless body was more than he could bear.

He wanted to move, to drag himself across the ground to Wanda, to tell her how sorry he was. If only he hadn't panicked, if only he had fought harder against Thanos, maybe—just maybe—Vision would still be alive. But his voice betrayed him. His lips were parched, his throat raw and tight with unshed tears.

"W-Wh...?"

Where's Thanos. That's what he tried to say, but he couldn't make any more words escape his lips. Before he could try again, Steve bent down, lifting him with a firm grip, draping one of Nikolas' arms over his shoulder.

"Steve?"

Steve's attention was already elsewhere.

Bucky was walking toward them when his body suddenly began to disintegrate into dust. Nikolas watched in horror as Bucky's hand dissolved into particles, his last word barely a breath—Steve's name—before his weapon clattered to the ground. Steve gently released Nikolas, stumbling forward to where Bucky had vanished, he reached out, trying to grasp the reality of what had just happened with his hand hovering over the empty space, 

Wanda never took her eyes off Vision when the same thing began to happen to her. And Nikolas,  paralyzed , never took his eyes off her either. He could only watch as she slowly disintegrated, his lips trembling along with his eyelids. He couldn't even whisper the apology that burned in his chest as she faded completely from sight. The crushing weight of guilt settled deeper into him, an unbearable burden he knew he would carry forever.

The realization that he'd been reduced to a terrified child in the face of death, too weak to act when it mattered most, hit him. His scraped, bleeding hands under his nails shook as he silently begged for the same fate to claim him, for the torment to end. But nothing happened. He remained, fists clenched in impotent rage and despair, as the desperate screams of Okoye echoed around him, calling out in the native language of Wakanda—a language he couldn't figured out.

His eyes squeezed shut as the throbbing intensified within his mind, his breath growing ragged. Desperation clawed at his chest, his hand instinctively moved to his chest, fingers curling around at the shredded remains of his suit, as if holding on could somehow anchor him to reality.

"Peter... something is—oh no... no, no, no..."

Desperation propelled him out of the forest, laced with fear as the last remain of hope pushed him forward, stumbling out and into the field. There, he witnessed members of the tribes fading away, one by one, their bodies dissolving into dust into thin air. One of them dropped his spear, collapsing to his knees with a look of pure terror etched on his face.

Nikolas rushed forward without hesitation, gripping the man by the elbows, locking eyes with him in a desperate attempt to convince him—convince himself—that this wasn't real. That somehow, he could reverse it. That this couldn't be happening, not to him, not to anyone. But the fear in the warrior's eyes was the last thing Nikolas saw before he too vanished, leaving nothing behind. But the fear in the warrior's eyes was the last thing Nikolas saw, in a heartbeat... he was gone, leaving nothing behind.

His hands clenched the grass beneath him, his mind racing, trying to reach out to the bond he had with Peter. To that lifeline they shared. He clung to memories—Peter's voice, their first kiss, the warmth of his touch—desperately searching for any trace of him. But there was nothing. For the first time, there was an unbearable emptiness where Peter should have been.

 "P-Pete...—" Nikolas choked out.

The world around him began to warp as his grief and panic spiraled out of control, creating a storm of emotions that churned the earth. He didn't realize what he was doing until he heard a voice shouting over the chaos.

"NIKOLAS, YOU NEED TO STOP!"

Nikolas opened his eyes, disoriented, and saw Steve approaching cautiously, using his shield to protect himself from the swirling debris. The words Nikolas had been repeating under his breath escaped in a broken mantra, "He's not here. He's not here. He's not... I can't feel him."

Steve didn't hesitate. He closed the distance wrapping his arms around Nikolas from behind in a tight, grounding hug. Nikolas wanted to feel comfort in the embrace, to find some solace in Steve's presence, but all he felt was the increasing pressure. His legs gave out, the weight of grief too much to bear. He sank to the ground, Steve holding on, refusing to let go even as Nikolas's body grew heavier, weaker. The storm began to fade, the world around them settling into a mournful stillness, but inside Nikolas, the chaos raged on.

"Shhh. Shhh," Steve murmured, pulling away as Nikolas' struggles finally ceased. "It's over."

Nikolas' mind felt like a void, his consciousness distant. He knew, buried somewhere inside him, that this wasn't a comforting embrace but a desperate attempt to contain the aftermath of a battle that he could cause when they were already shattered and couldn't risk to sustain. He gently knocked him unconscious.

Steve lifted Nikolas, his movements careful yet burdened with an unspoken sorrow. Each step he took felt heavy with the weight of their shared loss. As Steve carried him toward the others, Nikolas' breath gradually slowed, each inhale and exhale a hollow echo of what once was. A profound, melancholic peace washed over Nikolas. It was a peace he yearned for, an escape from there, and he hoped he would never have to wake from it.

Edited (22/08/2024).

( N o t e :･ﾟ )

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