CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ashes To Ashes

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THANOS CAME TO TITAN seemingly out of thin air, appearing on what had previously been a patchy stretch of ground in seconds. If no one had been prepared, they would have been caught off-guard by his arrival—which was likely precisely why he'd chosen to travel this way (well, that, and because it was likely more convenient than a spaceship). Fortunately for the impromptu group of nine—Peter had proposed the name 'The A-Team', but it hadn't really stuck—they were, in fact, prepared. In fact, they were all in position, spread out and in hiding along the area, when he materialized.

Cecelia hid on top of a ruin with Peter, both of them lying on their stomachs. They were now fully suited up, converted from teenagers to superheroes. Peter and Cecelia had gone into hiding; Spider-Man and Phantom had come out. They had to, because this was a battle they never should have been in. If they were fighting an adult's war, the least they could do was look the part.

It had only been a half-hour since Cecelia had emerged from the Milano-Nightfall with slightly less pressure on her chest. Her chat with Sol had, surprisingly, made a positive impact—although the woman was anything but eloquent, she'd reminded Cecelia why she was doing all of this. Although she'd lost a lot—far more than most people, in fact—there was always someone else she could save.

Still, Mr. Stark had been hesitant. He'd noticed her trepidation, too, and had pulled her aside as soon as she'd re-joined the group. Then he'd looked at her with his stupidly compassionate eyes and asked, "Are you sure you're up for this?"

Cecelia had nodded. "I am."

"You know I didn't want you or Peter here. You don't have to feel pressured to help if you don't think you can. I just—" he sighed. "I want to make sure you're all right."

Cecelia had smiled, just a little. "Sol already gave me that talk. I've made my decision, Mr. Stark. And I know Peter has, too."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sol? What, are you and Ripley friends, now?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. I like her. She's kind of a disaster."

"I'm not too sure she should be your role model, kid. Pink Panther told me that she once got so drunk she went streaking in the Nova Corps headquarters. That's, like, her government, I think. You could do so much better with me."

"Says the man who got so drunk he peed in his Iron Man suit. In front of a crowd."

"God, will any of you let that go? You're just like Pepper."

"Absolutely not."

Mr. Stark grimaced, then reached out to ruffle her hair. "Just—just be careful, okay? Somehow, I've grown fond of both you and Pete. You have to promise me you'll stick together."

"That was the plan."

"All right. All right. Then I guess you can go get in position. But feel free to tap out any time you want, yeah? Your uncle's not here. You don't have to push yourself anymore."

Cecelia's gut twisted. She hadn't even realized she'd been thinking about his rules. But of course, she had. She still hadn't completely scourged Richard Portland from her brain.

"I know," she said, even though a part of her didn't. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."

He smiled, then patted her on the arm. "Give 'em hell, kid."

The group split up. Everyone got into position.

And Thanos arrived on Titan.

Cecelia wasn't sure what she was expecting of the alien who sought to wipe out half of the universe, but it wasn't the creature that stood below her. Even with her skewed perspective, she could tell that he was huge—at least eight feet tall, with limbs like tree trunks. Golden armour clung onto a strong, powerful body meant to crush skulls and snap necks, and his left hand was encased in the gauntlet Doctor Strange had told them about. Even though there were still two spots left empty, Cecelia had learned enough about the Infinity Stones to figure that he would still be quite formidable. A shiver ran down her spine at the sight.

There was one more thing about Thanos: he was purple, the same shade as the flowers that grew in Central Park. Still, his face was relatively normal up until you got to his chin, which was ribbed, splitting the skin into sections. Cecelia might have laughed if she wasn't so fucking scared.

Thanos stepped forward, surveying the ruins of his home. Cecelia instinctively drew closer to Peter, who swallowed visibly. Perhaps, in any other situation, he would have made a joke. Said something about Thanos's skin, or his chin, or the obnoxiously large boots that adorned his feet. But he didn't, which told Cecelia that he was scared, too.

The Mad Titan only had a moment to take in the area, though, before Doctor Strange was speaking. "Oh, yeah. You're much more of a Thanos."

He was sitting casually on a set of steps leading into a broken building, practically twiddling his thumbs. Thanos looked up to him with gleaming eyes—eyes that, if you stared into them for too long, would swallow you whole. When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous as the sharp edge of a knife.

"I take it the Maw is dead. This day extracts a heavy toll." His eyes fell to the necklace at Doctor Strange's throat. "Still, he accomplished his mission."

"You may regret that," Doctor Strange said. It was honestly impressive how calm he remained in the face of complete evil. "He brought you face-to-face with the Master of the Mystic Arts."

Cecelia took in a long, slow breath through her nose. It's just another baddie, Phantom. Just another guy you want to keep off the streets. You can do this. You can do this.

Even if her chances were one in fourteen million.

"And where do you think he brought you?" Thanos asked, continuing to approach Doctor Strange.

"Let me guess. Your home?"

"It was." Thanos clenched his gauntleted fist, and a red beam of light emanated from one of the Stones nestled within. The Reality Stone. The Stone with the capability of changing the very fabric of reality itself. "And it was beautiful."

Slowly, before Cecelia, the landscape changed. What used to have been dark, clouded skies became magnificent blue. Broken, dry ground turned into soft beds of green grass. Every crumbled structure suddenly stood upright again—some even hovered in the sky. And people walked about. Ordinary people, some resembling Thanos, clad in robes that fell to their feet. Happy. Healthy. Alive.

"Titan was like most planets," Thanos explained. Peter and Cecelia exchanged a look, taken aback by the scene before them. "Too many mouths, not enough to go around. And when we faced extinction, I offered a solution." The Reality Stone continued to glitter at his gauntlet.

"Genocide," Doctor Strange said.

"But random, dispassionate, fair to rich and poor alike. They called me a madman. And what I predicted came to pass."

Slowly, the haven that was the old Titan reverted back to the way it was now. An apocalyptic wasteland. A graveyard of a forgotten species.

He's crazy, Cecelia thought. He really is insane.

Doctor Strange was similarly unnerved. "Congratulations, you're a prophet."

"I'm a survivor," Thanos argued. Cecelia clenched her jaw.

Yeah? Well, so am I, fucker. So is Sol. And that one was your fault.

"Who wants to murder trillions."

"With all six Stones, I could simply snap my fingers," Thanos said. "They would all cease to exist. I would call that mercy."

I would call that horrifying.

Doctor Strange got to his feet. "And then what?"

Thanos practically shrugged. "I'd finally rest, and watch the sun rise on a grateful universe. The hardest choices require the strongest wills."

"I think you'll find our will equal to yours," Doctor Strange said, then let two circles of magic form at each of his hands. Cecelia finally stood up, even though bile was boiling in her throat and it was getting difficult to breathe again.

"Our?" Thanos repeated.

And that was when Mr. Stark descended from the sky and crushed him with a giant piece of rubble.

The impact caused plumes of dust to spew from the ground, which began to fissure with cracks. All went quiet for a moment as Cecelia engaged her boots, preparing to follow him. Then, when no movement came from the debris, Mr. Stark said, "Piece of cake, Quill."

"Yeah, if your goal was to piss him off," Quill said, flipping down his mask. Cecelia was just making her way over when a great purple explosion sent her flying backwards. She swore, forcing her boots to catch her before she could hit the ground, but when she finally found her footing again, her eyes widened.

Thanos had broken the debris into pieces but held them all in his grasp. The Reality Stone glowed in his hand again just as he turned them into thousands of bats.

Bats. They swarmed Mr. Stark, carrying him backwards, and Cecelia only just managed to avoid their assault. She and Peter rushed towards Thanos with their hearts in their throats, and while Peter webbed him right in the eye, Cecelia activated her stunners. They hit him once, twice, and he stumbled, just in time for Drax to slice at his legs. Sol was next, blasting him repeatedly, and Nadir managed to stab him in the arm.

Doctor Strange, Drax, and Nadir—who Cecelia might as well call Cyrus, now—all began to attack Thanos at close-range, while Cecelia, Sol, Peter, Quill, and Mr. Stark (who'd quickly recovered from the bat incident) went at him from afar. For a couple of seconds, they were even doing well—Cyrus got some truly nice hits in, Cecelia aimed her stunners at his throat, and Drax seemed invincible. But then Thanos struck Drax across the chest, sending him hurtling to the ground. He kicked Doctor Strange in the chest, and his magic dissipated.

Still, they kept their effort up. Doctor Strange caught back up, forming platforms to help Quill advance. Quill flipped over Thanos's head, then placed a bomb on his back, which beeped menacingly. Cecelia and Sol both blasted him with all that they had.

"Boom!" Quill yelled, holding up his middle finger. He fell backwards into a portal Doctor Strange formed, and two more carried Sol and Cyrus out of range. When the bomb exploded, it did in a wave of electricity that actually sent Thanos to his knees.

Doctor Strange sent his cloak to wind around Thanos's gauntlet, preventing him from using any of the Stones, then opened two more portals; one for Cecelia, one for Peter. Cecelia leaped through her own and shot a stunning beam at his eye right before another one caught her. Peter grabbed his head and yanked him sideways, then kicked him in the chest with a mantra of, "Magic. More magic. Magic with a kick! Magic with a—"

Thanos seized Peter by the throat and slammed him onto the ground so hard it cracked further. Peter thrashed, kicking his legs frantically, and Cecelia immediately ran forward. The adrenaline of the moment—plus the fact that Peter was in danger—completely eliminated her fear, allowing her to do something incredibly stupid.

She sprinted through him, and, once she was on his other side, punched him right in his stupid ribbed jaw.

"Don't fucking touch him," she hissed. And immediately got slammed to the ground beside Peter as a reward.

"Insects," Thanos hissed. His hand still around Peter's throat, he lifted him up and threw him to the side, where he promptly crashed into Doctor Strange. The two of them fell in a heap, and Cecelia sucked in a breath.

But when Thanos tried to do the same to her, his hand ended up passing right through her own throat.

It was the first time he looked even close to being off-guard. He towered over her, a brute, a monster, a madman, with the faintest hint of confusion in his eyes. Cecelia bared her teeth at him as he swiped for her neck again, and again, and a third time, finding nothing but air.

Then his lip curled. "How quaint."

In one fluid motion, he tore the cloak off his hand. Cecelia scrambled back, still on the ground, just as an explosion sent a wave of heat over Thanos and caused him to go stumbling back once more. As Mr. Stark swooped in, Cyrus grabbed Cecelia's wrist and tugged her to her feet, pulling her away from the Mad Titan. He was controlling the blast, now, and redirected it back at Mr. Stark. It hit him straight on and sent him flying through the air.

"Piece of shit!" Sol yelled, sprinting back onto the scene. When Thanos turned to focus his energy on her, Peter came in from behind and shot a strand of webbing on his gauntlet, pulling on it in an attempt to force it off his hand. Cecelia was just running to help him when Thanos seized hold of the fluid and pulled Peter towards him, slamming a punch to his face and casting him aside.

Sol and Cyrus bared their teeth and began a dual attack, back-to-back, graceful as dancers. It was obvious that they'd fought together many times—they were practically one unit. Cyrus slashed, Sol shot, until Thanos closed his fist and the Reality Stone glowed once more.

The effects of this were the most horrifying. Within seconds, blood began to drip from every orifice, spewing from their noses, eyes, and ears. Sol put a hand to her nose, stumbling back, and Cyrus attempted to wipe xyr eyes. Thanos took advantage of their distraction to throw them both into a pile of bricks. They landed in a heap, groaning.

That was when a ship crashed right into Thanos.

Cecelia, who had been making her way towards Peter again, relieved at the way he eventually stood up with a double thumbs-up, sucked in a breath. Now it was Thanos's turn to go flying, landing on the ground with chunks of rubble pinning him down. And when he shoved them aside, someone new—a blue alien Cecelia had never seen before—sprung over and slugged him right in the face.

Or... perhaps it wasn't an alien, at all. Whoever this was seemed more machine than anything, with a robotic arm, eye implants, and a bald head that appeared to have been pieced together. Still, there was a little bit of humanity (well, not human human) in the dark eye that remained. The stranger held out an electric baton and bared their teeth.

Thanos's face darkened with recognition. "Well, well," he growled.

"You should have killed me," the stranger hissed.

"It would have been a waste of parts!"

The stranger roared, sprinting forward again. They hit Thanos again, and again, wild and frenzied. "Where is Gamora?" they screamed. Thanos hit them across the face.

Cecelia's heart seemed to have lodged itself in her throat. Peter was up again, true, but Sol and Cyrus were both down. Though Sol was conscious, she was still bleeding, and clutching at her face frantically in an attempt to make it stop. Cyrus's eyes were closed, though xyr chest still rose and fell.

Cecelia activated her rocket boots and leaped into the air, letting them carry her forward. She flipped in the air, then landed with her legs firmly latched around Thanos's neck. Before he could even try to buck her off, she shoved her wrists into his eyes and let her stunners do their work.

Thanos actually screamed, and Cecelia slipped through his skin to land back on the ground. Once she was solid, she took him in—he was thrashing, clutching at his eyes, lumbering about. This provided Doctor Strange with a window of opportunity, which he seized with both hands. Red strings of magic curled out from his hands and latched onto Thanos's hand, keeping a firm hold. Thanos took his other hand away from his eye and attempted to fight back, but out of nowhere came Drax, sliding into his leg and forcing him to one knee. Quill activated some sort of electric device that kept the gauntleted hand pinned to the ground, and for good measure, Peter wrapped him in webs again.

Now that Thanos was contained, everyone—barring Sol and Cyrus, who were no longer bleeding but still injured—surrounded him, trying to force him down. Peter tugged on his webs, using the legs of his new suit to keep himself grounded. Doctor Strange opened another portal and sent Mantis dropping down, landing right on his shoulders. Mr. Stark kept a firm hold on his gauntleted hand ensuring that he could do nothing to harm them.

Mantis's antenna glowed; her eyes squeezed shut. Her hands were clamped around her temples, and it became very clear very quickly why the Guardians kept her around. She seemed to have a power that Quill hadn't told them about.

Thanos's eyes finally rolled back in his head, and Mr. Stark looked up. "Is he under? Don't let up."

"Be quick," Mantis breathed. "He is very strong."

"Parker, Olivier, help! Get over here. She can't hold him much longer. Let's go."

Peter broke his webs and sprung over to help Mr. Stark grab hold of him, and Cecelia did the same. Even with the combined force of three people—one of which with super-strength—Thanos was a mountain that barely budged. Cecelia's muscles trembled and sweat beaded on her forehead.

"We gotta open his fingers to get it off," Peter said, gasping. "CeCe?"

"I'll try," Cecelia said, sinking her hand through his closed fist, becoming solid once her hand was encased in his. He had such a powerful grip, though, that she immediately gasped—he was crushing her wrist. Her bones grounded together, exquisite pain lancing through her, and she couldn't even force his fingers apart. She cried out between clenched teeth, tears pricking at her eyes.

"Okay, stop!" Mr. Stark demanded. "Get your hand out of there. We'll try something else."

"Okay," Cecelia wheezed, becoming intangible again right before her wrist shattered entirely. She tugged her arm out, then rolled her wrist, wincing at the way it clicked. Peter looked at her, lenses flared with worry.

"You don't have to—"

"Shut up, Peter," Cecelia said. Then she kept pulling, biting down on the pain that flared through her at the action.

Quill landed in front of Thanos triumphantly, even though the battle wasn't over yet. "I thought you'd be hard to catch," he boasted. "For the record, this was my plan. You're not so strong now, huh? Where is Gamora?"

"My Gamora," Thanos groaned. Peter narrowed his eyes.

"No, bullshit! Where is she?"

"He is in anguish," Mantis reported, her own face streaked with sweat.

"Good."

Cecelia kept pulling. Her arms seemed seconds away from crumbling entirely.

Mantis's eyes filled with tears. "He... he mourns."

"What does this monster have to mourn?" Drax spat.

"Gamora," the blue stranger breathed. Quill whipped around.

"What?"

"He took her to Vormir. He came back with the Soul Stone. But she didn't."

Cecelia's eyes widened. Mr. Stark flipped his faceplate up.

"Okay, Quill, you gotta cool it right now. You understand? Don't, don't. Don't engage. We almost got this off!"

He was right. The gauntlet was beginning to slip off of Thanos's hand.

But Quill paid him no mind. He turned back to Thanos slowly, fury steaming in his eyes. "Tell me she's lying," he demanded. "Asshole, tell me you didn't do it!"

"I had to," Thanos wheezed.

Quill shook his head. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes. "No, you didn't. No, you didn't."

Then he slammed Thanos over the head with his blaster.

"Quill!" Drax shouted. But Mantis had already let go of Thanos's head.

"Hey, stop! Hey, stop! Stop!" Mr. Stark demanded, attempting to wrestle Quill away. Peter and Cecelia kept yanking on the gauntlet, their entire bodies trembling with exertion. They were nearly there.

"It's coming, it's coming, it's coming. We got it, we got it!" Peter yelled.

Then Thanos's eyes flew open. And he sent Cecelia and Peter to the ground.

"No!" Cecelia screamed, but it was too late. Thanos threw Mantis off, too, and Peter immediately went to catch her before she could hit the ground. He kicked Quill into Mr. Stark and the blue alien, which caused them all to topple over. He yanked Doctor Strange away with his own magic. He kicked Mr. Stark down. And when Sol and Cyrus—still streaked with dried blood but on their feet again—came sprinting in for another attack, he hit them so hard they both immediately crumpled.

Quill, Drax, and the blue alien went to run to him, but Thanos threw out his arm, and a beam of purple light caught them all in midair. They froze for a moment, then all fell. Cecelia could only they were just unconscious.

She got up again and began to fire, her entire being alight with adrenaline. But if her stunners had been hurting Thanos before, they were now barely a hindrance. He growled and spun to face her. This time, she wasn't quick enough to go intangible before his hands were latching around her already sore wrist.

This time, there was a snap.

Blinding white pain shot up Cecelia's entire arm, and she screamed, throwing her head back. She couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't breathe—all that existed was pain, pain, pain. It burned through her, becoming her entire being, and distantly, she was reminded of the time Richard broke her finger. Though this was far, far, worse.

The world came back slowly, but the pain did not alleviate. Cecelia let out a sob, eleven years old again. Unfortunately, though, she didn't have time to wallow.

Because that was when it all went black.

WHEN CECELIA AWOKE, the world was on fire. Titan had already been a wasteland, barely hanging on, but now, it was burning. The air was filled with so much smoke and dusk that even when her oxygen mask on, she wheezed. The skies were aflame, chunks of rock littered the atmosphere, and the ground was not just broken anymore—it was shattered.

That was the first thing she noticed. The second was how much pain her wrist was in. It was excruciating, still jolting up her arm like a bolt of lightning, and she had to press her lips together to prevent another scream from breaking free. She drew her arm close to her chest, but didn't look down. She didn't want to see what Thanos had reduced it to.

Thanos. Suddenly, the pain didn't matter. Cecelia sat up abruptly, pushing herself to her feet and wiping a stray streak of blood from her forehead with her good hand. A lump the size of a basketball seemed to have lodged itself in her throat, because where was Thanos? Where was Peter? Where were Mr. Stark and Doctor Strange and Sol and Cyrus? Where were Drax and Quill and Mantis?

The last thing she remembered was loss. Quill, Drax, the blue alien on the ground. Mr. Stark cast to the side. Doctor Strange crumpled over. Peter making a desperate swing for Mantis. Sol and Cyrus lying unconscious.

Had they... were they all dead? Had what Cecelia had always feared happening again actually come to pass?

Had everyone died but her?

"No... no," she muttered. Blood ran down her face, which was surely streaked with all sorts of other dirt and grime. "No. No."

She limped forward, her legs suddenly unsteady. And this was just like the reservation, just like the warehouse, just like how it was always going to be—

"Peter!" she screamed. It was a raw sound, physically hurting her throat. Still, it couldn't compare to the way her wrist continued to throb. She still wasn't letting herself look at it, but judging by the way her hand sat—limp and floppy, like it was made of rubber instead of bone—it couldn't be good. "Peter!"

No one answered. Cecelia whipped her head around, but she couldn't see anyone. "Mr. Stark! Sol! Somebody!"

"Hey. Hey, kid!"

Cecelia whirled around so fast her chin cracked against her shoulder. She squinted through teary eyes, not wanting to hope, not wanting to be disappointed, but...

There, dragging their feet from behind a chunk of rubble, were Peter Quill and Mantis. Quill was clutching his side, wincing, and Mantis seemed unsteady and dazed. But... they were here. They were alive.

Cecelia wasn't alone.

Quill waved at her. "Over here, kid! There's—well, something happened."

Cecelia wanted to run, to touch their faces and make sure they were alive, but she settled for walking, instead, her feet occasionally catching on chunks of rubble protruding from the ground. Another trickle of blood ran down her face.

When she was finally standing in front of the duo, Quill let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God," he said. "That asshole threw a freakin' moon at us, and then we all got separated and I wasn't sure where you were."

"A moon?" Cecelia repeated, a little breathlessly.

"Yeah." Quill rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes were still filled with so much grief. "I'm not gonna lie to you, things are looking bad. Thanos is—it looks like Thanos is gone."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't—I don't know. I was pretty much unconscious for most of it. But come on. We're going to meet the others."

"O—okay," Cecelia breathed.

At least they were alive.

The three of them staggered down a small hill, where the others finally came into view. Drax, Doctor Strange, the blue alien, Sol, Cyrus, Peter, Mr. Stark... they were all there. The relief that swept over Cecelia was so overwhelming it made her a little bit dizzy. But then she noticed the way Peter was holding Mr. Stark up and faltered.

"Mr. Stark!" Cecelia made her way over to him and Peter, ignoring the pain that bit through her with every step. "Peter!"

Now it was Mr. Stark's turn to be relieved. "Kid," he said. "God. What happened to your wrist?"

"Thanos," Cecelia responded. "What happened to your side?"

"Thanos," Mr. Stark said.

"I—I don't understand," Peter said. "Where is he?"

Mr. Stark's expression twisted. "He's gone."

"What? Gone how?"

"Gone as in... he got the Time Stone and took his ticket out of here," Mr. Stark replied. "I'm—I'm sorry, kids."

Cecelia's stomach dropped. No. No. This couldn't be happening.

But it had. And the moment she realized that was the moment they lost for good.

Mantis was still attached to Quill when her eyes widened. "Something's happening."

"What?" Sol asked. "What is—"

She didn't need to finish. For, just then, Mantis turned into dust.

It was almost like when Brice had died, though far less violent. Mantis didn't cave in on herself—she simply was there one moment and gone the next. Cecelia stumbled back, and that was when Thanos's earlier words came back to her.

"With all six Stones, I could simply snap my fingers. They would all cease to exist. I would call that mercy."

"No..." Cecelia whispered. "No, no, no."

As much as she wanted to, though, she couldn't convince herself of any other possibilities. For, just then, Drax's arms were dissolving, floating off into the wind the same way Mantis's had. He only had time to look up and mutter, "Quill?" before he was taken over completely, too.

"Steady, Quill," Mr. Stark said, his face a picture of horror.

But it didn't prevent Quill from going, too. Then Sol and Cyrus, their foreheads pressed together. All of their ashes were caught on the wind, scattering across the planet.

Then Cecelia felt it.

It didn't hurt—in fact, it felt a lot like going intangible. But when Cecelia raised her hurt arm, she found there was nothing there. It was all gone, turned into the same dust that had vanished everyone else.

"Oh, Creator," she whispered. Mr. Stark and Peter both whirled to her.

"No," Mr. Stark breathed, taking her in. "No, no, stay with me, Cecelia, goddammit!"

Cecelia buckled to one knee as her right leg vanished. She could feel it spreading up her body, unwinding her, taking her apart. Bit by bit. Until she would be nothing, too.

"CeCe..." Peter choked out, his voice trembling.

"I don't want to—I'm sorry," Cecelia got out. It was spreading up her neck, now. Soon, too soon, she would be gone.

Mr. Stark reached forward, his arms going around what little of her was left. And Cecelia buried her face in his chest even as it started to flake away, and thought about her family, and cried.

Because Cecelia hadn't known that this would be the day she died, not really. And she had so many regrets. And she had so many words left unsaid.

The last thought she had before was entirely overtaken was that she should have told her parents she loved them this morning.

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HAVEN: damn thor should've really gone for the head rip

thanks for reading >>>:)))