[ 𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ]

TONY

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'This can't - ' he murmured in defeat at the dead man in front of him. 'This can't be it.'

The electromagnetic pulse was a fickle thing. Mercurial enough for him to mindlessly choose the first fittest option in front of him. And because of his oblivious reflection, he faced the mire of consequences that awaited him. There were no flashes of shine as he anticipated after this was over - just a near departed woman taking her ultimate breaths. I see you, he wanted to say but his insides were tight in desolation, I do.

'Tony, Hill? Does anybody copy? There's a blackout in the city. I repeat, anybody copy?'

'Elle,' he had no courage left to cry, the pain locking him in. He tapped on his comms. 'Rhodey. I need an assist. It's Elle.'

'What - '

'Her reactor's shot. It's... it's really bad.'

'Hold on. I'm on my way.'

 Tony dragged his trembling body forward, kneeling beside her with a jagged range of emotions. He dragged a hand around her face. 'You're fine. You're fine, baby. I'm here.'

He fought with his strength to reach out and tear the material of her shirt to see the muted reactor - lifeless and dead. No longer in use and late for revival. The metal burned and crackled with an intense pulse, burning the skin to coal around the reactor. The wires were fried and everything was reduced to black - there was nothing to save her from.

Elle inhaled another trembling whiff of air, a gasp and hoped to clutch on a few more minutes. 'It's o-okay.'

My fault.

'I did this,' he whispered.

I am to blame.

She let out a staggering sigh. With her futile arm, she tried to stretch out to his hand and seize him in a feather-light grip. 

'Look at me,' she murmured. 'Tony.'

'This is Hill. I copy.'

Tony forced his stiff neck straight, facing the soft influence of her glum blue eyes. There was a flicker of hope as she tweaked the edge of her lips. He took this time to look at her, to really look at her. Elle and her breathtaking smiles, soft hair that always fell into her eyes in bangs and azure blue eyes he never wanted to close.

'You saved so many lives. Lose to win, right?' Her voice broke with exhausted energy.

'Elle,' he dumbly urged when she paused her words. Her jugular bounced with hurt and he knew the piercing agony she was under - the shrapnel in her heart clenching deeper until there was no more. There was no stopping them.

'I should've stayed back.'

They partook a shoal laugh, the sparks in both their eyes extinguished. How much ever Tony wanted to scold her stubborn nature, carry her still breathing self to the nearest first response team - he knew it was going to go in vain. If he was going to spend a few more minutes, he might as well do it with spared moments of grace.

When he looked up from their entangled sooty hands, her eyes had gone vacant. Her red lips parted as the sign of her final gasp for her air, a wave of pain washing over him. Her head lolled over, leaning back against the wall without will.

She was gone.

Whatever lock that left his emotions shackled was keyed open, and an exhale left his lips with an approaching pain. He extended a shaking hand to close her eyes, sending her to much-awaited sleep. He struggled to keep himself in check, knowing that she wasn't going to be there tomorrow when he woke up was frightening. He was never going to be able to get that last kiss from her and he was never going to keep her close again. But that's the moral to all things, old and new. No matter how much you lose, as Elle said, you always grow stronger after.

∞

'I thought there'd be more people,' Rhodey murmured as he watched the scene unfold slower than a country bus. The local suburbs remained quieter than usual, the place where Elle had grown up such a contrasting point to her character. 

'But this is nice, too,' he agreed.

Far ahead, Madeline Preece stood hunched behind the teak coffin and brought herself to a fresh onslaught of tears every time she laid her eyes on her daughter. She was dressed in black, just like the others, and a finger caught every tear that fell. Mrs Preece was a mother who could never acknowledge the entirety of her passing, to never surround herself with the embrace of the little girl she had known all her life. Tony felt minuscule at the service, knowing that were people out there who knew Elle better than him.

The meagre audience of eleven - excluding the children - had started to endorse themselves in silent murmurs. He spotted a few familiar faces - Calico Quinn, Maria Hill, and Mrs Preece's fiancee. From the crowd's glances his way, he knew the last thing was talking about was Elle. He didn't have the heart to mingle with anyone, afraid that evoking the grief that he had balled up so tight, not letting it escape. Even more afraid that it wouldn't be about Elle anymore and he would get stuck in some business interrogation. It was better that way.

'The country life,' Tony breathed out gently, pocketing his fists deeper into his suit. 'Elle had it easy. Apparently, the Preeces have a stable and a horse called Tootsie. Exactly like the movie.'

He and Rhodey were the last ones sitting nearest to her, Tony had his legs stretched out and his orange-hued shades propped over in his usual signature finish. Whereas Rhodey was dressed to the highest formality, his eyes downcast unlike Tony's. The man seemed to be comfortable with the atmosphere, soaking in the farm-y air and the wind underneath the willow tree.

'How are you doing this, man?' Rhodey asked, shaking his head at his best friend's vapid face. Tony raised his brows in question, asking him to elaborate. 'Don't act dumb.'

Still surprised. 'No, you're being cryptic.'

'You didn't even write a eulogy,' Rhodey interrogated. 'Not a word to the minister, no flowers - did she mean that little - '

'Don't say it,' he cut in, swallowing down the emotion that curled like barbed wire around his trachea. No, he wanted to reprove, you're all wrong because she loved me the most. 'You know the truth.'

In less than thirty minutes, they were going to be separated by six feet of earth and there was no coming back. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that she was not asleep but gone, stolen from them for good. He looked away from Rhodey's scrutinizing stare, casting his gaze on the shiny wood of the casket.

'Mr Stark,' he lifted his awry gaze to the voice that approached. He smiled tightly at her, not knowing what to say.

'Mrs Preece.'

'Madeline, please.'

'Tony, likewise.'

Rhodey was quick to rise from the chair to politely give them some space after their exchange, nodding at the woman with a smile. Mrs Preece took a seat next to Tony, crossing her ankles and breathing out deeply. She was obviously tired, grieving was exasperating but she was going to have to get used to the weariness. It was what the cost of love - there's always an end.

'I wanted to meet you under different circumstances,' Elle's mother started in the tone you expected every maternal character to approach you. Gentle, warm and prodding. And her being English, sort of upped the maternity factor. 'Time's a little devil, isn't he?'

'I couldn't agree more,' Tony said. He turned to look at her, narrowing his gaze on her as if scrutinizing her. Mrs Preece was taken aback, craning her neck back. 'I'm sorry. You're just exactly what I imagined you'd be.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'A breed of soccer and tiger mom, blonde and British. No offence,' he quickly caught himself when she glared playfully. 'I, well - we've had very diverse talks on the phone and I'm very creative.'

'Know something?' Mrs Preece started rhetorically, staring ahead into the cluster of trees that lines the gravel path ahead. 'Elle knew what she wanted when I spoke to her last. I think she was present to her fullest when she decided she wasn't going to let you do this by yourself.'

Mrs. Preece knew everything, second-hand, and she regretted the fact that she wasn't there for her final moments. It was Tony who had courageously spilt the beans over the phone. He had kept it reserved and formal, trying to hold himself from breaking down when he heard the wails of her mother. Rhodey had snatched the phone when Tony's hands started to tremble from stacking feelings, jumping to the aid of his best friend.

'I'm sorry, Madeline,' he said, hoping to seek refuge for his actions. This guilt was trapping his grief and this seemed like the only way to get rid of it. 'She deserved better.'

He wanted redemption, something he knew he was never going to be merited for. So when the numbness passed, the pain would hit him out of nowhere and he was going to accept it with open hands. When he doubled over, he was going to remind himself that the worst was over. Now was the time to move on. Wait for the next and the next...

'You're small-minded for a genius,' Mrs Preece denied. She crossed the distance between them, palming his cheek to bring him her side of comfort. 

'She got what she deserved. The best.' She nodded at him. 'You gave it to Elle, Tony.'

∞