[ENDGAME SPOILERS] Half of a Whole

[pirateangelbaby]

Three weeks after half the universe turned to dust, several things happen all at once.

Nick Fury's transmitter abruptly stops its broadcast, not because the battery has died, but because its intended recipient has finally arrived. Carol Danvers has flown from one end of space to the next to find them, bringing news of worlds in chaos across the galaxy and seeking an explanation - seeking Fury, who they cannot give to her, his body Vanished along with half of the Earth.

Rocket gives her the transmitter frequency for the Benatar, desperate for news on his missing team. She leaves, and returns a day later with a crippled spaceship on her shoulders, its engines dead and life support failed completely. Rocket is among those who run to greet its arrival, beady little eyes desperate to catch even a glimpse of his family, but the only one he knows who emerges is Nebula, sorrow in her black eyes as she takes his small hand in hers.

She's not alone, however. The other occupant of the ship is Tony Stark, looking much worse for wear, half wasted away from injury and starvation, and so upset that he works himself into collapse only hours after landing. Tony confirms what the Nexus has already hinted to Natasha: Peter is gone, along with Rocket's family and the Sorcerer Supreme. The Man of Iron may be too weak and too emotionally shattered to be of much help but Nebula quietly confirms that she's fit for duty. Whatever horrible alterations have been made to her body, at the very least starvation doesn't seem to work for her quite the way it does for humans. When she and Rocket fill the other in on what each has missed, she immediately volunteers to sign on with him.

The mission is to find and kill Thanos. Where else in the universe would she choose to be?

And it turns out she knows a great deal indeed about his plans for after accomplishing his mission. An unremarkable world only a few jumps from Earth, uninhabited by any civilization, that Nebula calls the Garden. And once Rocket restores power to the Benatar, the ship's scanners tell a startling tale - the energy wave of the snap in Wakanda has been sighted again, on that very same world that Thanos has intended to call his home.

Confirmation that he is there, and so are the stones.

For weeks, Thor's battle-fire has been banked in his heart, smothered beneath the heaviness of blame and grief, but now it begins to smolder again as he calls Stormbreaker to his hand, and goes to find his new-forged arm, stronger than the last. This, then, is his chance for redemption. His chance to undo what has been done, and bring back the trillions of lives he'd failed to save. One way or another, either Thanos will die today, or Thor will meet a warrior's death trying.

As he looks around the room, he sees that same sentiment reflected in the eyes of those who still remain. "Let's go get this son of a bitch," Steve declares, and Thor feels cold determination settle into his stomach.

After three long weeks of waiting, finally, they can act.

Comments

[juststeverogers]

Thunder rumbles outside the hut.

Voices buzz without meaning in the back of Steve's head. They only had one chance to put this to rights but it was gone before they even knew about it. He stands over Thanos' lifeless headless corpse and remembers the months he spent tending to Blaze's body in his home in the Nexus before all of this. Everything he's withstood to get here every push and urging from his friends to get back up burrows underneath his skin. Picking him apart.

What good has it done?

He doesn't remember his legs giving out but the next thing Steve knows Carol's holding him upright while Natasha's shaking hands are finding his shoulders. Telling him to breathe. There's nothing more to be done here. Nothing more any of them can do. If there is an atom of Nebula that wishes to bury her father she will have no one's help but perhaps Carol's. What is left of the Avengers file back into Rocket's ship and sit to take in the bitter truths surrounding them.

Nothing is right. Nothing is avenged. They cannot do a single thing to fix this. There's the other Steve's world in a distant portal across the Nexus but nothing they do to try and help his will alter their own world. Might make things worse. Steve sits amid their defeat but burned into his retinas the image of Thanos' headless body on the floor of the hut will not go away. When he looks up and sees all faces turned to him for guidance something shatters inside of Steve. Every stare an accusation and proof of his failure to lead them to any sort of future.

He gets to his feet like he always does. Looks over each of them one by one.

The inspirational hopeful words don't follow. Steve Rogers has nothing left to give. He steps off of the ship and takes a seat on the grass next to the ship to wait for everyone else to come back.

It's Natasha who gets up when Steve leaves them. Turns around sharp enough to have her hair whipping over her shoulder when she squares her shoulders.

"We'll have to make damn well sure what's left is a place worth living then."

[ididntasktogetmade]

This can't be happening.

Rocket wants to rage and scream, to howl at Thor for killing this shitbag before he had a chance to tell them the truth, because the Stones can't be gone, but the Asgardian is already dragging himself out the door like some kind of zombie and leaving them all alone with the body of the monster who killed Rocket's entire family.

Killed so many families, but Rocket's... Rocket's was his, and he'd never had one before, and he loved those losers with all his little heart and now they're all gone.

He grabs at his own ears and pulls hard, and it hurts, but it doesn't wake him up from this horrible nightmare he's been trapped in since the day everything went to shit. This can't be the end, there has to be something, but the gauntlet is empty and Thanos' head is on the other side of the room from his body and even the humans are collapsing into despair, and Rocket falls right along with them.

It's as if his body has an autopilot he never knew about, trudging him back to the ship, because it doesn't feel like him doing it, like he's just watching from somewhere far distant behind his own eyes. He passes Thor, standing uselessly in the middle of the stupid field and staring at a fire that's enveloping the rows of crops, and if Rocket was in control of his own legs he'd be kicking the shit out of him right now. But he's not, so he passes on by as if he doesn't care, following the others back to the ship and leaving Nebula to do whatever she wants with her father's corpse. Spit on it, maybe. Bastard doesn't deserve rites. He didn't give 'em to anyone else he murdered.

He heaves himself into the pilot's seat and stops, though he should be running preflight checks, his hands don't seem to want to move and everything's gone blurry. No one else says a word either, all trapped in this muteness together that seems even worse than the day half the universe went to dust, because now the shock ain't there to muffle the horrible weight of what they're facing. This... this is it.

Natasha's words are like a whipcrack, breaking the silence with a call to action that jolts him out of his head, and Rocket looks up at her, his stomach dropping even further into his feet as he realizes that he doesn't know a damn person still alive that he gives the slightest shit about except for these people. "Where do we even start?" he asks, thinking of the little tasks he's been given over the last three weeks, little ways to keep everyone going, to go out in the world and do... whatever needs doing. But it feels like so little, and Rocket has never felt smaller in his life than he does right now.

[red_room]

The last several years have been the best of Natasha's life. No matter how bad things got, no matter how hopeless, they were always days worth living because she had her comrades by her side. Every time she told herself she was alright dying today with the fight they had in front of them she meant every word. Better to die among friends than to live the meaningless life she spent every waking moment in before Barton brought her in.

Barton and Fury changed everything. They're both gone now. But if they can't bring back the people Thanos erased from reality then Natasha sees only one valid way forward.

"We go back to the complex and I call everyone that will listen. We tell them this is it. There is no going back." Okoye will mourn. They will all mourn. A world collectively paying respects to the people its lost. "Then we start picking up the pieces, one at a time. I'll do everything I can to..." The spy raises her arms, but the gesture she wants to make dies halfway through and leaves them flopping uselessly against her sides once more.

"...To keep people safe." Rhodey finishes, voice tight with emotion. "I'm in." Bruce doesn't speak up from where he's still watching the door to see when Thor and Steve will come back. Natasha's lips quirk in the beginnings of a smile she knows is forced but does it anyway. This is the only way forward. It's what Nick would do, and he's one of the best men Natasha knows for all his faults. If Steve isn't strong enough to do it then Natasha will.

Someone has to. She looks down at Rocket before walking over to where his seat is.

"You've got a home with us for as long as you want it. No strings attached." There is no hope in her face. No blind idealism that this will somehow be okay. Just a grim determination to make something meaningful out of this even if it kills her. Better to die among friends than spend even a day living the way she used to. She won't go back to that.

[ididntasktogetmade]

It sounds harsh as hell, laid out like that in black and white. But everything is harsh, always has been, and Rocket doesn't expect bad news to come with warm fuzzies to make it hurt less like a kick in the gut. The universe doesn't give a shit about your feelings. And if this is what there is, then that's that.

He looks up at Natasha, furious sorrow in his beady eyes, and even he doesn't know what he's looking for. A hint of what he's supposed to do, maybe, some direction he could go if he chose to say no. But what else is there? Maybe Kraglin is still kicking around out there somewhere, but Rocket only knew him for like a day. He was Quill's friend, not Rocket's. Ain't no way in hell that he's gonna sign on to whatever's left of the Ravagers and live by their stupid rules, whatever they are.

But these folks... Rocket isn't used to being a hero type, except when it pays, but this is bigger than anything he's ever seen before. And his lifespan is too short to keep starting over again and again. He's spent three weeks with these folks, and what they're trying to do... well, it's either here with them, or out there with strangers lookin' to take advantage.

"I'm in, what the hell," he answers, letting out a mournful sigh. "Got nowhere else to be."

Not like he has a home to go back to, anyway. His home is right here, on this ship. Or it had been, anyway.

Outside, the fields are catching fire faster, wind fanning the flames higher, and the thunderheads above don't release a single drop of rain. It's only when embers and ash start to rain down on Thor that he finally begins to move again, his steps heavy as he slowly comes back to the ship as if in a daze. Nebula and Carol are not too far behind him, Nebula still spattered with purple smears and a blank, troubled look in her dark eyes.

Behind them, the hut begins to burn.

[juststeverogers]

It's not until the other three make their way into the ship that Steve gets up to settle into whatever seat is left for him inside. He doesn't hide his gaze from the others, but they won't find a shred of strength left in his face. There seems to be life in their eyes again for better or for worse but Steve doesn't question that either. Instead he focuses on Nebula and the blank unreadable stare she wears. On the empty gaze Thor gives.

Steve wonders if he looks any different to them.

For the first time in his life he takes no interest in the plans he can hear Natasha murmuring to Carol and Nebula as they make their way back to Earth. Steve tunes out everything but the sound of the ship's engines. It's so much easier not to think, to just let the numb haze of his own memories drown out the present around him. If he shuts his eyes and focuses hard enough, Steve can almost see Bucky sitting next to him by a fire, his rifle taken apart in front of him to clean while they rest after their evening meal. Can remember the tune Dernier used to sing even though no one but Jones understood the words. More often than not they'd all end up at least humming along to it before they'd turn in for the night.

In a way it's cruel, unfair of Steve to settle in with these ghosts rather than support the friends he has alive at his side. People who are still very much here who could use a soft smile or at least some company to grieve. But he's given and given and given until he feels empty inside and yet still they look to him for answers no one can give.

His small sigh isn't untroubled but it's more relaxed than it's been in weeks.

In the end Carol leaves fixing things up back on Earth to the Avengers. There's a big universe out there with countless places not so fortunate to have people like them on its side. She'll end up handing out tasks for Natasha to pass on to Rocket and Nebula if the trouble is semi-close to home ground or at least a jump point. Steve watches from the window when Bruce leaves them to it. Uninterested in ever seeing another fight. He doesn't try to stop any of them. He becomes more of a fixture at the complex than a leader, always off on the sidelines watching.

Natasha has a fire in her. One that Steve's grateful for because he's never felt more adrift and lost than he does right now. It's easier to just let her take charge after so many years of working at his side. Easier to put his head down and follow orders when they're given.

Easier to let himself be overlooked so he can sit in the empty rooms with his Ghosts and remember better days than these.

[ididntasktogetmade]

Rocket doesn't get the luxury of tuning the hell out like some of his passengers are, too busy with actual work, and blinking back furious tears as he aims the Benatar back to the jumpgate to Earth. He refuses to call it home. Not yet. Not now.

Maybe the only thing keeping him from losing it entirely is the promise of something useful to do. He's always found it easier to cope when he has something he can do with his hands, and right now, both are tightly clenched around the controls of the ship, leaving the stupid Garden behind to burn.

Good. Let it.

It'll be hard, starting all over again. But Rocket will throw himself into the work with a single-minded stubbornness, determined to keep himself busy enough that he doesn't have to think about what he's lost. The Benatar will come in handy for tasks that take their little team away from Terra, but he doesn't mind sticking around the planet either, lending a hand when they need a mechanic's touch. Fixing up weapons, vehicles, learning more about Earth tech and how it's supposed to work, and making it better. And slowly, as the days pass, he gets to know these humans a little better, finds a place where he fits well enough to be okay with it, even if a part of his heart feels like it was ripped right out of his chest.

It ain't home, not as it was. But it's something. And at least he's not alone.

Thor, though...

The Asgardian doesn't speak a word to anyone the entire way back. Even once they land, he doesn't go back into the compound, just standing out on the lawn with his blood-crusted axe in hand like he doesn't know how to take another step. And eventually, he disappears in a flare of rainbow light and comes back hours later, stumbling gracelessly back to his room, leaving a strong scent of liquor in his wake.

It won't be the last time.

But it doesn't last forever, either. Eventually, a call comes in from the Norwegian government for the god of thunder, and Thor listens to the message with a shadowed eye. And later that evening, his room is empty of everything but his unmade bed, a pile of empty bottles, and a note scribbled on the desk with a forwarding address for Henningsvær, Norway.

He doesn't bother to say goodbye, too ashamed to look anyone in the eye, too broken to face the blame he knows he deserves. The best thing he can do is leave them alone.

He's done enough damage.