chapter xxiii.
(   civil war   )

open the door into a nightmare
wish i could go back home
where do i even start to pick  it
up when its falling apart?

where do i even start ─── morgan taylor reid

avengers facility, upstate new york
june 12, 2016
(   third person point of view   )

"Tony, I just need to know. Please, all I want is to know the truth. Just answer my question."

"What question?"

"She's dead, isn't she?"

The man can't seem to open his eyes; this is all a bad dream, it's got to be a bad dream. It can't be happening. It can't. He didn't think it was going to end like this. He swear to God, he didn't think it was going to end like this. He honestly wishes he was numb;, why can't he just be numb? It's nearly dark, the sky looks like it's closing in on him. She said she was on his side, but it wasn't enough. God, why couldn't it have been enough?!

"Tony..."

Tears slip down the strawberry blonde's face and Pepper presses a hand to her stomach, feeling sick at what has happened these past two years without her even being here. Pepper should have been here for him and for her and for the baby she's only just learned about. They're her family and even though things went sideways with Tony, Pepper shouldn't have taken a step back.

Oh, there were so many things none of them should have done.

Pepper slowly steps around him, trying to meet his eyes.

"Tony." Her voice catches in her throat and her light eyes are red with pain, "I physically cannot get by without knowing. You have to tell me."

The man stiffly shakes his head and slowly sits down, his knees suddenly feeling weak and his head starting to spin and his left arm starting to ache.

"I need you to answer me." Pepper slides down to kneel in front of the man and she clasps tightly onto his hands, whispering, "Tony.. Please." A sob breaks out of her lips, her face drops, and her chest constricts painfully, forcing her to croak, "Is our daughter dead?"

A long pause follows as Tony presses a hand to his lips and shakes his head slowly. He feels so disgusting, so despicable, so unworthy. He can't even stand the sound of his own voice.

Finally, Tony turns to look at Pepper with his big brown eyes shimmering with twenty years worth of pain and he whispers in a faltering voice, "I don't know."

Clint strides along beside Steve, holding a trembling Wanda at his side and holding one of her cold frail hands tightly. Steve leads them through the outskirts of a forest towards a large field of green and yellow grass where a helicopter waits. After breaking them out of the Raft, Steve assured them that Wakanda would be offering a way to hide. The man who is nearly king did not necessarily promise this would be within the African country's borders for all of them, but the heroes who are now fugitives will be provided with some means to find safety elsewhere.

Clint's just not sure how long he's going to be able to take this running... He did his part, he paid his debt, he did what he thought was right, but now he only wants to return home to his wife and kids.

"You guys and Scott will make your way to Russia for the time being." Steve informs the two as they exit the treeline, "The others and I will meet you there and we can move on once everything's set."

Clint nods back, settling back into his role of a spy, "Some old contacts of mine and Natasha's are in Samara. They might be able to hook us up with a couple of essentials."

"Good. We're gonna need all the help we can get."

Wanda swallows hard, trying to find her voice within her empty form, "A-And Lees and the baby?"

Steve looks sharply over at the brunette, his eyes widening.

The archer squeezes the shoulder of the girl he considers a daughter, finishing her train of thought, "Did she head back with Stark?"

And Steve completely stops walking, his blue eyes falling to the grass-covered ground. Clint and Wanda slowly come to a stop as well, noticing a few steps further that the captain has stopped. They turn back to look at the captain with worried and furrowed brows. Wanda's throat squeezes shut and her breathing picks up as tears fill her eyes. But Clint isn't quite willing to accept his silence as anything but silence for now. He's looked after her ever since he first met her. He loves that kid.

"Steve." Clint's voice turns harsh, "Where's Lisa?"

The captain takes in a slow, unsteady breath before he pulls his head back and slowly meets their eyes.

"Steve?" Wanda's voice sounds so young and so frightened, "Where's my best friend?"

The captain merely shakes his head.

It's dark; it's pitch black, actually. Still, Tony just wanders around the Facility rather aimlessly, purposeless. Pepper fell asleep in one of the many rooms within the horribly silent place, having decided to stay for the night. Vision may be around somewhere. Tony doesn't really know. He doesn't really care. A thick glass is clasped in his right hand and the golden brown liquid inside it swishes from side to side as he walks out the front doors of the Facility and onto the large green yard that stretches beyond.

He thought he knew emptiness before.

He thought he knew loss.

He didn't.

Tony Stark has never felt so worthless in his entire existence and God knows there have been so many nights to feel worthless.

"Well..."

Tony's barefeet slowly turn him in a circle against the grass as he stares out at the white security lights.

"Been a while since I was up here in front of you. Maybe I'll do us all a favor and just..." He wheezes out a sarcastic laugh before he squeezes his stinging eyes shut, "stick to the cards..." He swallows hard, his features contort, and he whispers, "Just stick to the cards, Lees, stick to the plan."

His big eyes slide open and he lets out a heavy breath, staring back into the lights once more.

He swings the thick glass out at the darkness, yelling out to the no one that is listening, "And I know what you're all thinking, I know, I know! Tony Stark's an arrogant, heartless jerk who can't get out of his own way, yeah, yeah, I see what you're saying."

The man points his trembling free hand and he stares deep into the darkness with a hard and searching expression, but he gives up and he waves the night away.

"I mean, you all say I'm not the heroic type. A laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public."

Tony takes a quiet breath before he takes a few steps forward.

His voice suddenly builds to a yell, "I know what you're saying! I hear you! I hear all of you! I said these words myself, Lisa!"

He gasps in and drops his hands down to his kneecaps, shaking his dark head.

"Lisa... God, Lees... The truth is..." His body sways as he straightens back up, his hands swing to his sides, and he shakes his head, "You're right."

He stumbles away a little, pacing across the grass and studying the green blades as if they hold some means of comfort for him. They don't, though. Nothing does. His hands begin to clench into fists and then they begin to shake and then he can't hear his own heartbeat over the desperate sound of him gasping for air. His eyes burn and he squeezes them shut, but nothing can fight away the tears and the agony that rises up within him now.

Tony suddenly whirls back around towards the lights, shouting, "I never got to say goodbye to them!"

The night does nothing to respond to the screaming man; it just listens.

"My parents were murdered! My father's face was bashed in and my mother's throat was strangled and I was a kid, just a stupid kid! It broke me! I was alone and everybody was watching and it broke me." He coughs out a laugh, "But I got back up. I took care of my kid and I made my own way in the world and I did it for us by my own hand!

"And then, guess what?" He laughs once more and swings his body around with bitterness lacing his every movement, "Me and my kid got kidnapped by terrorists hired by the only man who ever acted as a father towards me! Ah, yes, let's talk about that for a moment, shall we?! A good man sacrifices himself and my daughter almost gets raped and I nearly die, but, hey, the two of us make it out alive!

"Yes, I get us back up. I make a suit and I get the girl of my dreams and I save the world with a group of remarkable people, but wait, what's that?" He cups a hand to his ear and mockingly widens his eyes, "Tragedy strikes again! Why? Because we can't let Tony catch a break, can we? No!

"Tony Stark apparently now has anxiety attacks and his house is blown up with his family still inside it and the people he loves almost die, but he's still holding on! He gets back up, sir and madame, he gets back up! He saves the country and he protects people and he tells his daughter that he loves her and he's a hero, yes, everyone sees him as a hero. Or at least he thinks so!"

He scoffs and scrunches up his nose, waving his hand, "Nope! Tony Stark is a villain! Yes, in one foul swoop, the man in a tin can manages to lose his girl and lose the respect of his friends! The world hates Tony Stark, almost as much as he despises himself.

"By trying to protect everyone, he creates a terrible weapon and people die, so many people die because of what he's done and he can't stand the looks that people give him. So, he hides away from the public eye. He stops being a hero, he stops-" The man struggles with his words, unable to stop himself from hyperventilating as he whispers in a panic, "He just tries to get it to stop.

"But it doesn't stop! The battles keep coming and his friends betray him and he can't get the bleeding to stop and the screaming and the arguments and he's down, and he's broken, and he can't go on anymore. His girl is long gone, his daughter is in pain, and his friends don't trust him, and he's suffering. Will he get back up?! How can a man who is as selfish and as lost and has suffered so much get back up? Will he do it?! Can he do it?!"

He looks around at the darkness before yelling out, "Oh, ladies and gentlemen, he will! Tony will get back on his feet, take a look! Like a phoenix from the ashes, Tony Stark will rise! Just in time to lose his beloved daughter," his voice cracks and his feet stumble, making him trip and fall onto his knees.

Tony slowly shakes his dark head, whispering to no one because there's no one around for him anymore. He's alone. He's all alone. Just like he knew he would be. The only difference is, he's alone without her. He never thought he'd be without her.

Tony's expression morphs into one of pain and he lets out a quiet sob, "I am on my hands and my knees, and I-I, I can't get back up anymore... Don't ask me... I can't."

He lets out a pained sound as he pushes himself back to sit in the grass, his eyes dead and his hand still clutching around the thick glass. He swallows hard and his hand shakes as he tries to lift the glass to his lips, keeping his eyes on his barefeet that are damp and cold from the dew of the dark green grass.

The cold glass is just touching Tony's lips when a strangely familiar voice snaps, "What the actual heck do you think you're doing?"

Tony's eyes flicker and confusedly squint up at the source of the voice. A very familiar dark haired girl with warm blue eyes stands above him.

Lisa.

His Lisa, if he's even allowed to consider her his own now.

Her features that match his so perfectly are curved and lined with the light of the moon and the white security lights that shine behind her. Her eyes carry a kind of innocence that Tony hasn't seen in so long, so so long. It's like she's five again, giggling and grinning as she runs to him when he comes home from work and puts her up in his shoulders. Pepper would stand behind them with a wide smile of her own, laughing as Tony would tease the little girl and spin her around in circles. They would just spin and spin.

"Tony..." Lisa sings out to bring him back from the memory and her lips are pulled into a grim frown, "What are you doing?"

The man shrugs limply and swings the glass around, "Trying and failing at getting drunk, mon amie. Yet I'm out here in the middle of the night, acting like I'm totally sloshed. It's all a mess." He displays a hand and then grumbles, "God, I can't really even get the glass to my lips."

"Well." She puts her hands on her hips, glancing his haggard and messy body over, "You look awful."

Tony squints up at her with an expression of distaste, "You always know just what to say to make me feel better, Smalls. Thank you."

Lisa winces out an apology and she sighs before sitting onto the grass beside him, staring at the Facility with a sad expression. The father and his daughter simply sit in the damp grass for a long moment, neither saying anything as they every so often glance at each other.

Finally breaking the silence, Tony starts with a sigh, "As you may know, I've never been the best at sharing, even as a kid. Once had a bad experience with some lincoln logs. Third grade. Bad time,"

"Is there a point to this?" Lisa interrupts with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, yeah, my point! Thank you!" He points at her with a curt nod and she hums, "Well, I guess to sum up..." He leans towards her and holds the thick glass out to the young woman, "Sip?"

Lisa winces down at it and shakes her head, "Nah, I've kind of sworn off the stuff. Last time I had alcohol, I kinda got myself married and pregnant, so..." She winces playfully once more, "I'm gonna pass."

Tony stares at her face for a long moment, knowing that this isn't the real Lisa, knowing that this is only just some figment of her that his mind has conjured up to play tricks on him. But that doesn't mean his Lisa wasn't once pregnant with his grandchild but both are now dead. He lost both of them in one day and he didn't even get a chance to know one of them. He did that. Didn't he? With that new thought in his mind, Tony sharply lifts the glass to his lips but still can't quite manage it, making him growl and drop his forearms back on top of his raised knees.

"Yeah, well, you did that to yourself so suck it up, Princess." Tony snaps back at her before he really realizes he does.

Lisa makes no loud or testy defense; she just frowns and softly says, "No offense, but you'd think you'd be nicer to your memory of me."

"You know, you're right." Tony frowns back as he sits beside her, facing the opposite direction, "I'm sorry."

Lisa smiles a little at him before looking over his shoulder, once again staring at the Facility that he's turned his back to.

She lets out a quiet sigh, "We sure got ourselves into a mess this time, didn't we?"

"We did." Tony hums back in a careless sing-song way before he lifts the glass up to his mouth once more, then sighs, and pulls it back down, "You know what I don't understand?"

Lisa turns to him with raised eyebrows.

"Among an enormous amount of other things, I don't understand why I'm having such a hard time swallowing this." He peers at the sparkling glass in his hand that has a shrinking circular ice cube at its heart, "This is two hundred year old scotch. It's not like it's some cheap-o gross crap but psh." He puckers his lips down at the golden liquid.

"Mmm, maybe it's not the scotch you're having a hard time swallowing."

"Lordie, that did sound pretty Freudian, didn't it?"

Lisa laughs a little and shakes her hair from her shoulders, "A little bit, yeah."

"Yeah." Tony responds quietly and looks down at the grass, yanking at the blades like he and Lisa use to do when she was little and insisted they went to the park.

"Tony? Hey, look at me, Tony."

He squints up at her face, studying her features that match his.

She has no trace of the smile now, "You need to put down the glass, you need to get back on your feet, and you need to go back home."

He scoffs and holds the cold glass to his black eye, "'Home'. You and I both know 'home' is just a boatload of crap and fairytales."

"Then humor me by believing in a fairytale for five seconds, will you? You're going to wreck your body with this crap and I'm not letting that happen."

He scoffs, "You're not even here, Lees."

"Fine, then." She purses her lips, "You're not going to let this happen because you know that I wouldn't want this for you. Why do you think I'm even telling you this? I'm in your head, you big jerk."

"Ugh, Lisa." He scowls and pushes the cold glass against his temple, "You're giving me a headache with all of this psychological mumbo jumbo."

"Well, you give me a headache." She grumbles, making Tony grumble back before she rolls her eyes and grows serious, "Okay, Dad, but I mean it."

Tony looks up at her with his stinging big brown eyes; his heart breaking just a little bit more at the name she's called him once again.

"You have to live your life. Blow something up, build a farm, go to therapy, buy a goldfish, get married, do something, Dad. It's doing nothing that's going to kill you." With a pause, she sighs and presses her lips into a thin line before saying, "For better or for worse, I don't need you to save me anymore."

Tony's eyes flicker away from her, unable to look at her face.

"But there are still people who need you to help them. Pepper, Peter, Rhodey, Happy. The world still needs Tony Stark. Don't give up. Don't you ever give up."

He doesn't respond, staring blankly off into the darkness.

"Dad." Lisa leans over to peer deep into his eyes and she slowly shakes her head, "Get back up."

He lets out a scoff; his voice growing louder as he goes to argue, "Lisa, I can't,"

Interrupting, her voice remains firm and unwavering, "Get back up."

"Lisa," Tony's voice hitches, staring at her determined and perfect features, unmarred by the war they fought in only days ago.

"Get back up."

Tony lets out a pained breath before giving a small nod and whispering to himself, "I'll get back up."

"I love you, Daddy."

He lightly grunts as he leans forward, burying his fingers into the grass.

"If only you were like Rogers, a man of character, a man of honor. What's so wrong with you that you can't just be more like him, Tony?"

He takes in a sharp breath and pushes himself up to his knees.

"I'm on your side. I'm always on your side."

His fingers shakily leave the glass in the dirt as his back begins to arch.

"The only thing you really fight for is yourself."

His brown eyes wince off to the darkness and he takes in deep breaths to ward off the pain.

"I've got own kid to look out for now."

His fingers brush against the blades of grass and his knees shake slightly as he tries to rise to his feet.

"Don't waste it. Don't waste your life. You have your everything, Stark, help others keep theirs."

His back straightens and then he's standing there, a man in the darkness only illuminated by the lights and the moon above.

"There you go." Lisa still stands a few feet away and a small smile graces her soft features, "That's better."

He gives her a small half-hearted smile before it immediately fades and he shakes his head as he looks to the Facility, "I can't do this without you."

"Yes, you can." Lisa moves to stand beside him, "I will. And so will you."

Tony suck sina sharp breath and turns to face her, "I'm not ready to say goodbye to her. The real her." He shakes his head and his voice catches in his throat, "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

Lisa's own blue eyes fill with pain and she breathes, "I know you didn't."

"How do I live with that? How do I live with the fact that I'll never get to say I'm sorry? I'll never get to see her again."

Lisa's expression contorts and she slowly raises a hand to his cheek. His eyes close at the contact and he tries to memorize the size of her small hand, trying to remember it for when he blinks and she's gone again.

"She lied."

"What?" Tony confusedly opens his eyes to look into hers.

"Lisa." The brunette answers simply and softly, "She lied when she said she never wanted to be like you. Well, I don't think she particularly wanted all of what happened to you to happen to her but..." Tony and the girl bitterly laugh a little before growing solemn once more, "She always wanted to be like you. Because, all throughout her childhood, she saw the real you. That's how you live with it. Don't be what they want you to be. Be what Lisa saw."

Tony doesn't reply for a long moment and the girl rolls her eyes after a moment of this silence.

"I'm trying to say 'be you', you dork. Now, you're supposed to crack some kind of joke about how cheesy that is."

He laughs, "I can't think of anything at the moment."

"Gotcha speechless, huh?" She smirks, "Well, lucky me."

He puffs another laugh, shaking his head down to his feet.

"Look at it." Lisa whispers softly, peering across Tony's shoulder to look at the compound, "Just look! You did that, Dad. You made the team. Steve may have led it, but you made it."

"It's nothing now."

"Well, then." She steps a few feet back from him, shaking her head and spreading her hands out, "Make it something. You're the mechanic, aren't you? You have to decide. They'll come back. They'll all come back. But it's you who has to decide if you're going to be ready for them when they need you."

Tony doesn't look at her, instead just choosing to stare at the Facility that he made a home for them. He's going to figure this out. That's what he does. He's a mechanic.

He'll fix it.

For her.

And when Tony turns back, the image of her has faded away completely.

"Now, I'm going to take off the gauze very slowly, you see, hm?"

"O-Okay, yeah." A hollow voice responds quickly, curling her fingers over the edge of the hospital bed as she prepares herself for the pain.

"Take slow deep breaths as I move." The young woman can feel the sixteen year old girl's hands slightly touch wraps that shield her face.

She nods in response a little, but quickly halts this motion when she feels another stab of pain shoot through her face, "Uh, yes, th-thanks. Just-just start."

"Lisa." T'Challa says her name carefully, wanting to make sure she knows what she going to be getting herself into, "Are you sure you do not wish to wait for more medication?"

"Or even perhaps until the wounds heal more?" T'Challa's younger sister, Shuri, suggests.

"I'm sure! Please, just..." Lisa's voice builds up angrily at them and she painfully clenches her jaw before letting out a quiet breath, "Just start, Shuri, please."

Shuri glances back at her brother who nods slightly and the sixteen year old bites back a sigh, "Bast, I don't approve, but fine." She grumbles and then nods, "Ready, then. Here we go."

Lisa grits down and she holds in every wince and cry and grimace as the Shuri begins to unravel the cloth from around her face. The white lights from around her begin to reveal themselves from behind her eyelids and she feels a slight chill come into her face. The air stings against her still open wounds and her bruises ache as she fights showing any pain.

The young woman lets out quick breaths repeatedly, causing a small rhythm as she struggles to maintain calm as the pain grows worse and worse. Lisa can feel her head beginning to grow light and her surroundings suddenly feeling like they're spinning, but she just grips the side of the bed harder, willing herself to stay conscious.

Finally, Lisa feels her hair fall completely around her tank top-covered shoulders, brushing against the gauze that covers her chest and she knows that she's free from the bandages that have covered her for the past four days. Lisa knows she won't ever look the same again. Shuri already warned her of the damage that is going to be left on her body, especially her face which is going to have a long scar curving from above her eyebrow, down the bridge of her nose, and then down onto her cheek.

That's never going to go away, and everyone knows it.

The girl's pulse nearly disappeared twice when T'Challa took her and the others to Wakanda, being something that he never wants to experience again. She was so covered in blood when he brought her here. God, there was so much blood. He never knew someone could bleed so much. Then he got her to Shuri and his younger sister did everything she could to save the only girl he loved and then... he found out.

He found out everything...

They were able to save the child. 'A fighter', that's what Shuri called the child. Just like Lisa.

T'Challa clears his throat and glances down at the ground.

"Finished." Shuri presently chirps, "You must open your eyes slowly. The light may burn at first, sister."

Lisa nods a little, sucking in a quick breath before slowly trying to peel her eyes open. It's painful at first and it does burn, but a dark and familiar face soon appears, albeit blurry. Lisa squints at him and blinks a few times as she tries to focus. T'Challa's face slowly becomes clear and he nods to her in soft encouragement, clasping his hands behind his back.

Lisa clears her throat a little and she glances around to find herself in a white medical room with a glass wall that's buzzing with information to her left. She then looks to her right to find a tall mirror stretched up before her. The person she sees staring back is not her. It's some twisted, deformed version of her. Skin is split, stitches line the center of her face, flesh is still stained red, bruises are everywhere, various places are swollen, gashes line every edge and curve. Lisa gasps in quickly, one of her hands touching her mouth in horror.

Shuri watches Lisa's reaction with a saddened expression, whispering, "Is there anything I can do, brother?"

T'Challa doesn't take his eyes from Lisa as he quietly replies, "No, Shuri."

Lisa takes in a small breath, swallowing and nodding slowly, "Thanks."

Shuri takes her hand and gives it a light squeeze before she turns and leaves the room.

The two sit in silence for a few moments before she raises a hand to her forehead, dropping her chin down, "You don't have to stay, T."

His dark brows bend and he shakes his head a little, "Yes. I do."

"No, that's not what I mean. Really, I don't," she sucks in a quick breath, "I don't want you to see me like this."

The prince's face twists in a strange mixture of pain and anger, a kind of expression Lisa has only seen once when his father died. T'Challa walks closer until he stands just before her. He gently rests his hands on either side of her face, carefully lifting her reluctant gaze up so that she'll look at him. She releases out a huff of irritation as she meets his eyes and scowls at him. His eyes study her face and his lips purse sadly.

"You are beautiful." He tells her softly and her scowl slowly crumbles, "No damage could change that, Lisa." She lets out a disbelieving breath, but his voice grows firmer yet still somehow kinder, "All wounds heal. Even those made to the inside."

To hold back any tears that might come, Lisa's eyes fall closed. She raises her hand to curl around his as it stays pressed to her cheek. T'Challa lays a small kiss to her forehead and then leans to rest his own forehead to hers. She wraps her free arm around him and rests her hand against the back of his neck.

"Give me something to hold onto." Lisa whispers with tears stinging her open wounds as they slide down her face, "Let me have something to remember before this ends."

"There will be no end." T'Challa just shakes his head against hers, whispering, "Stay. Just... stay."

"Stay?" Lisa's breath breaks into a quiet sob, "After what I've done? After-after this." She presses a hand to her small rounded abdomen that had only just begun to grown difficult to hide.

"After this." He softly repeats, his eyes squeezing closed as he intertwines his fingers with hers.

Pulling away and shaking her head, Lisa gives a bitter chuckle as she can't quite meet his eyes, "I'm sure your mother must despise me now."

Staring down at her, T'Challa frowns and shakes his head, "My mother does not judge you."

"And you?" Her voice cracks as she looks up at him, "Do you judge me?"

With his brows furrowing, he steps closer and softly touches her cheek, "I could never judge you, of all people."

She stares deep into his dark brown eyes before she lets out a quiet gasping breath and tears fall down her cheeks, "I judge myself."

"I know you do." T'Challa softly replies, cupping her face, "You're too good. That's your vice. You have too much goodness inside of you and the moment you do something wrong, you kill yourself for it. That's why I love you. You feel too much. You've always felt too much,"

"Then you can't care about me anymore." She interrupts, shaking her head, "I destroyed myself."

He pulls back and rolls his eyes, "You never let me complete my thoughts, do you?"

She blushes lightly underneath her bruises, teasing half-heartedly, "No."

He sighs and shakes his head, moving on to what he was intending to say, "You're missing the point, Lisa. Your vice is why I'm here. To put you back together."

She swallows and nods, sniffing quietly.

They linger in silence for a few more moments before she whispers, "I wasn't made for this kind of thing. I wasn't made to be bold or brash or rebellious. Tony could pull something like this off. The illegitimate child, the truth, all of it. He was strong enough for this kind of thing. And Natasha could, Rhodey could, maybe even Steve could. But me? I-I'm just a little person. I'm not strong enough for this." Her eyes fill with tears and her breath catches in her throat, "T'Challa, I can't,"

The prince doesn't say anything. He simply puts his arm underneath her legs and turns her body back onto the hospital cot. He then slides onto the mattress beside her, curling both of his arms around her and holding her tightly against him. She bites back the pain in her body and leans her head into his chest, simply closing her eyes against the silence.

*soft crying and sad music playing in the background* Heartbreak and romance in one chapter, I'm really hitting you people hard lately. Tony and Pepper are in pain, Steve freaked Wanda and Clint out, and T'Challa proves himself to be the best man in history. I promise these chapters are going to get happier... Anyway, that ending completely freaks me out, was it okay? It's worrisome for me...

Important Note: The next few chapters will end Part 1 of Poison and Wine and soon we will dive into Part 2 which encompasses Spider-Man: Homecoming and Black Panther so be ready for that!

Funny Thingamabob:

Literally Ragnarok