The first thing Tony Stark noticed was how cold his hands felt. He slowly opened his eyes, seeing the immense domed ceiling far above him, Orion and other constellations depicted across its light green surface. As he sat up, he realized why his hands were cold. He been sprawled out on the frigid marble floors of what appeared to be a train station, if the clocks mounted below the gargantuan stone pillars of the building were anything to go by. He was dressed in one of his favorite suits, a charcoal-grey one with a matching vest and vibrant red tie that added the necessary flair for any outfit worn by the man. Somewhere above him, Tower of Power's "So Very Hard to Go" played through speakers that he couldn't spot.

Tony consciously rubbed his right arm. Though the pain was gone, the experience lingered in the billionaire's mind. So did the other memories, existing right alongside it in one fluid stream. Defeating Thanos. The powers of the universe coursing through his mortal body. The pain. The slow fading, like a dying battery. Rhodey. Peter. Steve. Thor. Pepper.

Pepper

Tony ran his hands over his haggard face, memories of her and Morgan surrounding him, filling every space of the vacant station as his heart ached with the separation. Part of him wanted to hope for something, some intervention or deus ex machina to right everything, give the happy ending he desperately wanted. Wanda perhaps. Or Strange. Or maybe something with the stones, something undiscovered that could alter the outcome, change fate in his favor.

He stood slowly, blinking away the mist that had gathered in his dark eyes and instinctively straightening his tie as he did so. It reminded him of Grand Central Station, minus one important feature. The staircase going up was gone, along with the doors to the outside. Only walls remained and the giant windows, which used to display the lights of New York, had gone dark. The escalator across the marble floor, the ones that went down, beckoned him and Tony could only sigh deeply before moving towards them.

The sounds of his Italian leather shoes had been like gunshots as he crossed the floor, the structures of the station easily throwing the echo back at him. He didn't want to step on the escalator once he reached it. But he'd looked. There were no doors, no other stairs and no other avenues. The only path left stretched before him and it was all he could do to take it.

The ride down was quick, the dimly lit structure surrounding the subterranean escalator passing before Tony's disinterested eyes. The light grew greater towards the bottom and the billionaire soon found himself there, where the subway would presumably arrive. Despite years in New York, Tony hadn't exactly made a habit of riding the subway. Even so, he knew that what he was seeing was abnormal. Not only was this area as vacant as the one he'd left, but it was also spotless. Every part of it, every tile and brick, was white as ivory, without a speck of graffiti or dirt marring any part of its surface. It was mesmerizing.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Tony froze at the sound of that familiar smoky voice, the teasing tone that never completely died no matter how deep in the shit they all were. Tony turned to see his old friend sitting on one of the spotless benches behind him.

"Good to see you, Red," Tony managed, his throat tightening at the sight of Natasha, the memory of Clint's heartbroken report of what happened on Vormir and the pain of losing another friend returning to him like a pair of unwelcome houseguests. She looked good. Like him, all traces of battle were gone. The blouse she wore looked comfortable, white on top but with some black to match her skirt.

"How are you feeling, Stark?"

"I feel like I should be asking you that."

Natasha's lips quirked up into a smile at his words. Tony couldn't help but notice that it looked different than the smirks she usually wore. Gentler, with no trace of cunning behind it. "You want to sit down?" she asked, scooting over and patting the empty spot beside her.

Tony hesitated for a moment. He glanced back towards the escalator, only to notice that there wasn't one that went up. Only down. "Sure," he said, his shoulders slumping a bit before he went to sit beside his friend.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, Tony's hands fidgeting in his lap as Natasha sat back calmly, one leg crossed over the other. "So," Tony began, finally breaking the silence, "You're…I mean you're…you're okay, right?"

Natasha chuckled a tiny bit. "Well, I'm not in hell yet, so I suppose so."

Tony almost laughed, silently grateful that her humor hadn't deserted her. Never change, Red, he thought. He remembered the day they'd met, how she'd brought him quite a bit of joy by laying Happy out in the boxing ring. Simpler times.

"You alright?" Natasha prodded his arm, breaking his reverie.

"Sure," he answered dismissively.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?"

Tony groaned and put his head in his hands. "Really? You're still reading me? Even now?"

Natasha merely shrugged. "Old habits die hard…or perhaps they don't die at all. It's okay to be bothered by all this, Stark."

"We won. I'm sure you know that. That's all that matters," Tony said, his voice sounding foreign.

"I see Steve's greatest generation self-sacrificing schtick rubbed off on you," Natasha's voice had that teasing tone again.

"Rubbed off on you too," Tony retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

That got a laugh out of the former spy. "Guilty as charged."

Tony sighed, his hands going limp in his lap. "I just wish things could've been different, y'know? I'm not going to bitch about it being unfair or anything like that. I made a lot of mistakes. I did my best to make up for them, but they still happened. People still got hurt because of me."

Natasha didn't say anything, simply watching the billionaire attentively. Her normally sharp, calculating grey-green eyes were soft, kind in a way that Tony had never seen before on her.

Tony continued as he looked out at his sterile surroundings. "I know how lucky I was. There were so many times that I shouldn't have made it, but I did. People that I mistreated, but still stood by me. I know why I did what I did. I had good reasons. And yet…I want more time, especially with Pepper and Morgan." Tony's voice broke a bit at his daughter's name, a few tears rushing down his cheeks that he hurriedly brushed aside. He suspected that Natasha might've had a joke about him crying in a different situation.

Instead, her face bore nothing but empathy and she placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "There's never enough time, Tony. There's always something we miss, something we wish we'd done differently, something we wish we'd said."

"It's funny," Tony sniffled a bit, "If someone would've told me twenty years ago that my happiest moments would be spent playing with a four-year-old girl, I'd have said they were insane."

"Things change," Natasha observed sadly, "Twenty years ago, I wouldn't have given a damn if someone had killed me. My life was just one murder after another, a different city and a different target every week. I had no one. And now…" She paused for a moment, her eyes slipping shut as she exhaled, "Instead, death comes now, after I'd started doing the right thing, found people who actually cared about me…after I finally had something to lose."

Tony heard the pain in her voice. "Do you regret it?" he asked carefully. They were both bleeding at this point, their wounded hearts completely exposed.

Natasha met his glassy gaze. "No," she said without hesitation, but not without sadness, "I'd do it again in a second. Even if Clint didn't have a family that needed him, he saved my life and it was only right that I save his."

"What about the rest of it?"

Natasha seemed to think for a moment, looking out at the empty tracks before finally turning her gaze back on Tony. "No. Even if I'd known in advance that everything after Clint saved me would end like this, I'd still have gone through with it. Working for SHIELD. Being an Avenger. Saving innocent people instead of hurting them. Getting to know you, Clint, Thor, Wanda, Steve, Sam, Fury, Hill and all the others. Getting to be an aunt to Clint's kids. Even with all the trouble we went through, those were the best years of my life and you guys were my family."

Tony let out a watery chuckle, feeling a few more tears gathering that he quickly blinked away. "We all loved you. When we found out you were gone, it hit us all hard. Making sure it wasn't for nothing was all we could do. Even then, it didn't feel like enough."

Natasha shook her head. "I got more than I deserved."

Tony turned a sharp gaze on her. "No, you didn't. You're a hero. You gave your life to save people you didn't even know. You deserve a goddamn monument."

"Something tells me it would pale in comparison to whatever they build for you, flyboy," Natasha joked, although Tony could tell that his words had made an impact.

"I just hope the sculptor's good. We all saw what happened to Ronaldo." Both of them laughed at that and the billionaire felt a little bit of the grief that had coiled around his heart loosen.

"We had some really good times, didn't we?" Tony observed, mind drifting back over the days gone by, all those he'd loved in that time and what they'd accomplished together.

Natasha nodded. "I think that's the important part to remember. The good times."

Tony didn't answer immediately. Remembering his friends and colleagues and even Pepper was a bit easier than remembering his daughter. He'd gotten to see everything they had to offer and shared in so much with them. With Morgan, everything felt too short. He'd never gotten to see her first day of school, teach her to drive, see her graduate, see her develop into who she was meant to be. Still, he thought of every laugh, every smile, every bit of joy just being with her had brought him over the past several years and how he wouldn't have traded it for anything in the universe. I love you 3000.

"You're right," Tony finally answered, pushing past his tightening throat, "I suppose nothing can last forever, no matter how much you want it to. There are hard parts on any journey, but there are good parts too. In the end, I suppose that's what you have to hold onto."

"And part of the journey is the end," Natasha smiled as she quoted his own words.

Tony chuckled a bit. "I'm glad you were able to hear all that."

"It was unexpectedly moving."

"The ice queen melteth."

"Oh, shut up."

They were quiet for a moment, the conversation having eased everything a bit, made it more bearable. Far away, somewhere down the dark tunnel that swallowed the track, they heard the faintest sounds of the train approaching.

"Y'know, Clint or Cap or Bruce or whoever's in charge down there better get a memorial service together for you soon. If not, I swear to god I'm going to haunt them," Tony said.

Natasha laughed easily. "Not if I get to it first, Stark."

The sounds of the train grew louder and louder until it finally emerged from the tunnel, stopping in the open space of the station. Like the station, it was spotless, a magnificent silver vehicle that could not possibly have existed anywhere else. The windows were dark and nobody else appeared to be aboard, yet the doors to the cars still opened invitingly.

Natasha stood up and straightened her skirt. "You coming?"

Tony cast one more glance towards the escalator before turning his gaze back to his friend. "Yeah," he answered, standing up and straightening his tie.

The pair boarded the train together, taking two of the many available seats. As he sat on the comfortable cushioning, Tony thought of his parents and how he hoped to see them soon, how he hoped they were proud of him. The doors closed soon after and the train moved forward, silently heading off into the darkness.

A/N: It's always sad to see old friends go, but, in the end, the good memories are what you have to hold onto.