Avengers-endgame Page

The lake stayed still. The cabin stayed dark. But the stars, for the first time in half a decade, looked like they were waiting for something to begin again.

Tony tilted his head toward the cabin. “She’s asleep?”

“Good.” Tony pulled out a folded piece of paper—hand-drawn, crayon, with a heart in the corner. Morgan’s. “She left this in my suit’s boot last week. Said it was for ‘repairing the big donut in the sky.’” He smiled, small and real. “Let’s go fix it.” avengers-endgame

“One more fight,” Clint said.

Tony didn’t look triumphant. He looked tired. But he was here . The lake stayed still

The lake was still. So still that the reflection of the cabin didn’t ripple, and the stars looked like pinned needles of light in a frozen sky. Clint sat on the dock, feet inches above the water, and watched the suitcases by the cabin door. The years had taught him that silence wasn’t empty. It was just waiting.

From the rift came a figure, armored and glowing faintly, dragging a hammer that sparked with old storm-light. Thor looked thinner, his eyes clearer than they’d been in five years. Behind him, a raccoon with a blaster the size of his arm. Then a woman in red, feet barely touching the ground. And a man in a red-and-gold suit that Clint would know anywhere. Tony tilted his head toward the cabin

He should leave. He’d said his goodbyes. But his boots stayed nailed to the wood.