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slothgiirl · 1 year

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a rose by any other name epilogue

reader x druig.

New York. North Dakota. 2024.

You had never been to New York before. Not in this life, or any other. You weren’t sure this counted either.

Seeing a city from the airport cab ride to Doctor Strange’s place in the city seemed like cheating. You’d seen the famous skyline, but hadn’t step foor anywhere.

“Is there some superhero directory I’m not aware of,” you ask Druig, craning your neck. You were pretty sure that was central park, gone in a flash.

“Sanctums are quite stationary,” he shrugs, licking ketchup off his fingers. You thought airport hotdogs were a bag idea. “This one’d been around since the 1700s. When it was New Amsterdam.”

“Wasn’t Hong Kong closer?”

Druig shakes his head, “we need someone. . .flexible about all those rules they made about the mystic arts.”

“Two thousand years and it never occured to you until now,” you ask him, slouching into the seat. The world was still intact. The news hasn’t stopped reporting on the new chain of islands in the indian ocean that look like fingers.

Tiamut was neither alive or dead in some weird cosmic energy thing you didn’t understand.

Druig looks over at you sheepishly, “I had other things on my mind.” His gaze flickers down to your chest.

It’s probably the whole averted apocalypse that has you in such an indulgent mood; you lean you head against his shoulder and smack his chest lightly.

“Careful my lady,” he says sounding terribly smug, “Ikaris did attempt to murder me.”

“I guess I’ll have to finish the job,” you rest your hand against his chest, feeling his ribcage move as he breathes. He wasn’t fine.

Druig was careful to keep weight off his left foot.

Phastos had given him the all clear which didn’t make you feel much better. Not when two of them had died in the span of days.

Phastos had left quickly, unable to be away from his family for any longer.

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be,” he laughs.

“I guess I could let it slide,” you meet his gaze, feeling immense relief all over again, “you did just save the world.”

Druig tips his chin up, looking full of himself.

There was a lightness to him that you’d missed, a playfulness that was so characteristic of your Eternal lover. Your eyes rover over his features that you knew so well. The scar on his cheekbone, near the outer corner of his eyes, had not faded at all. The way his brilliant blue eyes crinkled with easy smiles and how his laugh filled a room.

He was there. Alive. You were both alive.

So many lives and you continued to be enamoured of him. It never got old, being in love, making a home with him. Anyplace, anytime.

There were tears in your eyes.

Again.

All you’d done this week was cry.

“I did,” he nods, pressing his lips against your hair. “Though if you hear Phastos tell it-”

“Yeah,” you clutch the fabric of his shirt.

Sensing your somber mood, Druig wraps his arms around you. “I’m right here, love.” He tucks your head under his chin, “‘S alright.”

“When the plane started to shake,” you say quietly, “I thought that was it-” It was over. The world ending with you in a private plane.

There had been so many close calls.

“The world’s always ending,” you mutter, breathing in his scent. You understood Lizzy, finally.

It was never over. Earth was still in trouble after Thanos.

Captain Marvel had her hands full with the rest of the universe.

“Is this what being part of the universe is like?” Always being scared some empire would come in and take over, being invaded, some asshole destroying your planet for no reason. You didn’t want to sit by and hope for the best. You couldn’t.

It would drive you mad.

“I-,” he frowns. “Well, I wouldn’t really know. Don’t remember anything but Earth.”

“All those planets-” you shift your gaze out the window as the cab pulls to a stop. What about the planets where Arishem got their way?

“I know.”

Druig’s expression grows weary. It was the same way he’d looked when Ajak had forbidden them from aiding the Mexica from smallpox and the genocide on the horizon. He wasn’t going to let this go.

You pay for the cab.

The sanctum is an unassuming building. The plaque is the only way you know you’re in the right place.

You're surprised there's no awards for saving half the universe. No Avengers insignia for Doctor Strange.

Druig holds your hand.

“This isn’t some. . .” you pause, “He can help right?” You didn’t understand much of anything when it came to magic.

“If not,” his eyes glow. “I can always. . .”

It’s comforting.

“Okay.” You nod.

The world was still spinning. There was nothing else you could do but go for it.

Dr. Strange seemed the type to break whatever rules suited him, very Iron Man-esque who thought he was above the Sokovia Accords. Right? You try not to think to hard about Ultron. About ashes and world heritage sites getting destroyed by the latest threat. The London Eye was still closed.

You breathe.

And knock against the door.

It swings open.

You aren’t sure what to expect as you step through: cauldrons and black witches hats covered in dust and cobwebs. The last sanctum had been ordinary for it’s time, filled with students and ancient sayings in calligraphy hanging on the walls. That isn’t New York either. It lacks the faux orientalism prevalent in Europe circa the 1800s.

No, the New York sanctum feels like a rundown hotel that’s decades past its prime but no less grand for it. There’s tasteful tables with relics you imagine are just as magical as Phastos inventions.

You peer around the grand staircase, expecting to see someone. “Hello?” You don’t have to check to know Druig’s a step behind you. His presence is an anchor as you venture further into the sanctum.

There were no students.

It feels abandoned compared with Hong Kong.

Your chest tightens at the thought of the sleepy fishing village. Hong Kong was nothing like that now. There was a certain pain that came with knowing the world was transformed each time you lived. You thought of street food vendors whose names only you knew.

All that history you carried with you. The faces of people you’d loved. The memories of books that had not survived.

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

In your mind’s eye, the ashes of the Snap were the same as the smoke of Tenochtitlan burning.

Druig sets his hands on your shoulders, “do you think they have an Instagram we can message?”

“Ha, very funny,” Dr. Strange walks in from a corridor, looking over his shoulder like a teenager sneaking out of the house, “do you mind if we move this into the laundry room. Don’t want Wong to interrupt us,” he says even as he leads the way.

“You were expecting us. . .Dr. Strange,” you state aloud looking for confirmation. It was a parlour trick for these sorcerers.

“Yes and no.” He whips his head, turning to you as he opens a door, “and please call me Stephan. Dr. Strange is grandiose even by my standards.”

“And the discount Jedi robes aren’t,” Druig says cocking his brows.

You elbow him, “look who’s talking.”

“My lady,” he holds his hand against his chest in mock offence.

You roll your eyes at him.

Stephan looks on, amused. “I foresaw the high possibility that you’d stop here. . .it the world wasn’t destroyed, if you both survived, if you chose to leave. There’s so many factors. A background in statistics is useful in the mystic arts.”

“Well that’s no fun.” You’d been hoping for less maths and more wand waving. In the news, it seemed so easy, just a wave of his hands and-TA DA.

“And neither is reincarnating,” Stephan snarks back, taking a seat on a laundry basket full of either robes or linens.

You purse your lips. “It’s not ideal. But not awful.” You never really remembered dying unless it was awful. That hadn’t happened in a while. No, it was more like being homesick for a time and place that didn’t exist but people struggled with that all the time. People moved so often in this century: never knowing when they’d go back home.

And that wasn’t even touching on displaced people. Millions of Sokovian refugees. . .

“So you're not here to get that fixed?” Stephan asks pointedly.

He must’ve decided to become a doctor by watching House M.D. Copied the whole schtick off there.

“I thought it couldn’t be. . .changed.” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. You wish you could google this magic stuff. You didn’t like being so badly informed.

“No. The spell you cast can’t be modified,” Stephan agrees, “I’d have to break it and create a new one. Though granting any type of immortality is a big no-no in the mystic arts.”

“Which is why we’re hiding,” Druig infers.

Stephan Strange frowns ruefully, “I’m not Sorcerer Supreme anymore or it’d be my call. I still-I’m still going to help.”

“Right?”

“Earth needs all the allies it can get.”

“So not out of the kindness of your heart,” you surmise, feeling like a pawn. You’d never liked how Ikaris and Ajak had made you feel like a tag along. Like Druig’s human pet. It left a bad taste in your mouth.

“You don’t think you’ve lived long enough?”

And wasn’t that also true. You’d been lucky to witness so much. History and people and spend it with the man you loved, your soulmate, not just once but over and over. It was far longer than most people got. You’d told Druig something similar once.

What made you so special you deserved an exception?

“Oi,” Druig stiffens.

But this wasn’t his call. This wasn’t about him. Not really.

This was about you. You who was just another human having an unusual conversation with a peer. Often, you’d be the token human in the Eternals conversation and no matter how long you’d lived there was still something unique about the human experience that you could relate to Stephan Strange in a way that Druig and Sersi would never understand.

(You’d talk about this with Sprite one day.)

“I think I’ve been very lucky,” you acknowledge. “But all I want is this life. For however long that is. I think I’ve done enough reincarnating, y’know.” It had all been a cosmic accident you didn’t even remember creating. Had you been trying to save yourself and the magic came out like this? Had you meant to create another spell?

These memories were lost to you now. And they didn’t matter.

You were done with living again and again. You didn’t want to forget and remember and forget again. You wanted to hold onto all of you, your memories and thoughts and your muchness as it was right now in this moment and die knowing that was the end. Just like everyone else. (You were curious about what came after, if anything.)

“Okay,” Stephan smiles kindly. “I’ll help you. But- this’ll be it. No second chances. No next time. No do overs. You’ll be frozen in time. You’ll still have your magic, but you won’t age. You couldn’t ever have children. You’ll still be just as breakable as me and every other sucker in New York.”

“Alright.” You nod.

“You sure? I can always just break the spell.”

“I’m sure.”

He nods. “Well then, try and stand still. I need to concentrate.” Dr. Strange waves his hands in cyclical movements.

It’s like a buzz under you skin. Something’s happening, but it’s too foreign for you to understand what. The small cramped room fills with light.

You shut your eyes and count, steadying your breath. This was it.

By this time tomorrow you’d be in space.

It was crazy when you thought about it. No less crazy than Thanos and New York and falling in love with an alien.

1. 2. 3.

Deep breath.

***

Makkari waves her pointer finger in a circular motion, the most universal hand gesture for spin around.

You indulge her, “you’re acting like I grew another head or something.”

The speedster smiles, I am glad you are coming with us.

You grin, “you’re only saying that so I help you with your eReader. Or did you splurge on an Ipad? Wait, you probably stole it.”

Looking awfully mischievous, Makkari holds her finger to her lips, hush now. Didn’t happen if there’s no witnesses.

You laugh, figuring there were worse crimes than stealing from the Apple Store.

The Domo floated above head. Thena was all packed up and ready to go. You’d said your goodbyes to Sersi, Kingo, and Sprite days ago.

Now it was just about leaving. Leaving this green and blue rock you called home.

You bite your bottom lip. It had been hard packing up, mostly because you didn’t know when you’d be back. Clothes, essentials, a magic book from Dr. Strange. Saying your goodbyes hurt the most.

What would Sprite look like at twenty? You were so used to her as an adolescent. Your siblings. . .

“We don’t have to go.” Druig reaches for your hand. “We can stay if you wish, my lady.”

North Dakota was gloomy today.

“I want to.” That was true. You also felt bittersweet at leaving this planet. “I want to see the stars. Find the other Eternals.” You meet his startling blue eyes, cupping his cheek. “I want to do all of it with you.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I know,” you nod, “just, give me a moment.” You squeeze his hand, before slowly heading towards Thena. You take your time, gazing over the landscape. The grass was brown and dead for the season. You're pretty sure it’s going to rain tonight.

It was frightening to say goodbye to everything you knew. It was frightening to begin a new chapter after so long. There’s security in the known, in the constant, and now that is gone. But you were ready for it. You were ready to begin a new chapter. You weren’t in this alone. You had Thena and Makkari, and the man you loved and that was all you really needed. The people you loved.

You look over your shoulder, watching as Druig hugs Phastos, ready to explore the stars.

notes: bookendings with makkari and druig at the end just like how the first chapter was makkari and druig mainly. im making up that dr strange timelooped reader’s physical body so shes frozen in time. idk. idk. he’s also like yeah mb this is important to the cosmos the way he connected the dots that tony start needed to live to defeat thanos. either way druig and reader get to have lots of sex on the domo after saving the world and thena forces makkari to organize her piles of stolen things. mb reader learns to use magic and starts being able to hold her own in a fight.

#a rose by any other name #druig x reader #druig imagine #Druig x you #druig x y/n #me @ marvel eternals 2 when!!!!

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slothgiirl · 2 years

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a rose by any other name part xiii

11k. druig x reincarnating reader.

prev. /// next.

London 2024

Nathan frowns as Sprite takes on an adult form. “Seriously?”

“I’m trying to get laid.”

“Oh yeah,” he rolls his eyes, “because that’ll work.” She kicks his shin.

Your brother filled out during the past year, no longer lanky limbs. He has your dad’s high cheekbones though he’s pasty from having spent all of last year in New Asgard and his long hair proves he went native.

You check your messages for the millionth time.

“Happy birthday Dane,” Nathan gives Sersi’s long time boyfriend a loaf of gross healthy Norwegian bread that the Asgardians also like making. His obsession with alien archeology paid off.

“Thank you! How was your trip?”

After the snap, a car swerved into your parents' honda civic. A freak accident. You were all Nathan had even as you spent days sitting under the showerhead remembering so many lives. You scratched at your skin, trying to peel away the layers and get back to you. You. Whoever that even was. What were you?

At least Sersi and Sprite had the excuse of being aliens. You were just a freak. You weren’t Thor.

“Great. The salmon up there really gives Hawai’i a run for its money.”

“No way.”

Sprite doesn’t even flirt with anyone, just holds her glass and watches Dane and Nathan and you can see her getting angrier by the second.

You make your way to her as Sersi does the rounds with Dane’s friends. She was always careful to not get too close.

You were like two thousand years old. It was just your body that wasn’t. Fuck. Trying to rationalize your past always gives you a migraine.

Sersi has a black and white photograph, the ones people had to stay still for minutes for it to work right, of you and her in Paris during the 70s. The 1870s. Nathan had it as his lock screen.

“You wanna go get nando’s instead?” Your brother had told you he wanted to go when he was back in the UK. Everyone here thought it was adorable that Sersi brought her kid sister everywhere. But when it was just the four of you, Sprite didn’t have to pretend she was a teenager when she was older than the English language.

“Naw,” she shakes her head, the movement odd when carried out by the illusion she was wearing, “I kinda wanna see Dane’s stupid face when she shoots him down again.”

“We can kick Sersi out and give her no choice?”

Sprite snorts. “You’d never.”

“Maybe I’m not as nice as I look.” You brush imaginary dirt from your shoulder.

One of Dane’s friends from uni, also your alma mater, hits on Nathan and you gag. It was so weird to think of anyone finding your brother who you’d seen eating his own boogers when he was five as attractive, let alone flirting with him.

Sprite frowns. “Obviously or you’d have told Druig.”

You wince.

She had you there.

There was a letter in your sock drawer. You’d written out a lot. Then crossed it all out and instead wrote something much more to the point, then thrown that away. Finally, you’d settled on a picture of you and Sersi on a river cruise for new years. Sprite had photobombed. Nathan’s finger was in the bottom corner. But you had struggled for the words so you never sent it.

It was a lot.

Reuniting with Druig would force you to confront the reality of your situation, the big M question you’ve been avoiding. How would the use of your magic this go-a-round impact your ability to reincarnate? You didn’t want to tell Druig. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t want this, you and him in whatever space you were able to carve out for yourselves. You didn’t want to burden him with the knowledge of some freak spell, but you knew you would have to talk about it.

“Drink,” Nathan offers Sprite his cocktail. Your brother loved a good margarita.

“I can get my own drink,” she snaps. “I’m not five.” Then stalks away before Nathan can reply.

She was always touchy about her unchanging appearance.

You check your messages again. Lizzy still hadn’t responded. She was living in a mental health residential clinic Nathan was paying for. Tracking down alien relics paid the big bucks.

The transition from being ash to being alive, the world having moved on for five long years, had been rough for your sister.

You were the same age as her.

Her things had been thrown out in the chaos.

It was weird.

You didn’t know how to make her understand you were just happy to have her back. You’d outlived everyone, always.

Somewhere you probably had descendants.

“Have you ever heard about the golden apples,” Nathan asks you.

“Like from Percy Jackson?”

Nathan grins, and you know he’s about to make fun of you, “didn’t you live through the trojan war.”

“Fuck off.”

“And you have magic! If anyone should know this stuff it’s you.”

You grumble, “say that a little louder I don’t think they heard you in Tokyo.”

***

You glared jealousy at Sprite and Nathan sharing headphones to watch some in-flight movie while you were suffering sitting between Sersi and Ikaris. You couldn’t even watch a Mission Impossible movie because your headphones were bluetooth and the plane only had the aux plug in. So there you were, while Ikaris kept stealing looks at Sersi like he was a Youtuber about to launch into a ten minute apology video and Sersi scrolled through her eBooks. Her seatbelt was already on.

Why couldn’t your seat be with Sprite and your brother?

“Should’ve flown there and saved us these last minute flight prices,” you try to joke, looking at Ikaris who had never warmed up to you in nearly two thousand years.

Sersi blushes. “It wasn’t too bad. Nothing I can’t afford,” glancing at Ikaris before adding. “I had a lot of time off saved up.”

“Maybe if you’d gone with us to Spain,” you point out, “Barcelona was great. Ate way too much ice cream.”

“The V&A-”

You snort. Classic Sersi, turning down a vacation to spend a week going through a new exhibition. What a nerd. “So,” you address Ikaris, “what have you been up to in the last five hundred years?”

“Um.” He swallows, clearly not expecting the question though given the circumstances, he really fucking should. Maybe he doesn’t owe you an explanation but he does owe Sersi one.

Fuck, you should’ve sent this in to The Cut. Ask Polly.

“I’ll go first,” you start, “Travelled around Europe with Sersi. Surprisingly didn’t die from all the lead around then but apparently missed out on the Radium craze. Stayed with Thena and Gilgamesh for a bit. Was a nurse in World War 2, not that anyone ever remember’s India’s part or that front. What about you?”

Ikaris rolls his eyes. “I have continued my mission.” His gaze flickers to Sersi, “our mission.”

“How many thousand years and you haven’t changed, haven’t grown.”

Sersi puts her hand on your arm. Let it go.

“There are deviants. I have a duty to Arishem.”

“But not to humanity?” You scoff, “call the Avengers. Let Antman or the Wasp handle it.”

Ikaris scowls.

Sersi sighs.

“Miss,” the flight attendant asks Sprite, “I need you to have your seat upright at the moment.”

Sprite glances at Nathan with a pointed look, “I’m eight thousand years old.”

“All the same,” the woman doesn’t even blink, “your seat needs to be upright.”

“Told you,” Nathan snipes back.

Sersi rests her head in her hands.

It was only a nine hour plane ride, a two hour connection, followed by a three hour drive, until you reached Ajak. Fuck.

***

Ikaris digs the grave by himself. Twin rivers of tears run down his cheeks.

Sprite and Sersi sit on the steps of Ajak’s house, comforting each other. You feel like an outsider. You didn’t know Eternals could die. For so long she has been a constant. No matter how much the face of the world changed, the Eternals remained the same.

Only they haven’t. So many cracks have shown behind their alien facade since they split. Thena had become ill. Ikaris had all but disappeared, and inside of everything Sersi had grown.

They could change just like humans did, just like you did. And they could die.

You bite your lip, thinking of Ajak.

It had been in Mexico when you had last seen her, lived with her. Her dark eyes reflected the awful human sacrifices that the Aztecs had carried out like many other cultures throughout history. Ajak’s unblinking gaze: you wondered how such a sweet woman could be so cold to an entire planet.

And here you were.

You look up at the scenery. It was peaceful here in rural Montana, far from any city.

Your eyes were wet with tears for a woman who’d let you die before.

“Did you know here,” Nathan asks, shadowing you, giving the others space to mourn.

“Not very well,” you chuckle, “I mean, we lived together, but no, I didn’t really know her.” It sounded shitty.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” your brother looks at the horizon, “I’m going to move Lizzy to New Asgard.”

Oh.

You feel blindsided.

Your sister wouldn’t even talk to you.

“Is that a good idea?” She was not the only person to live in a residential facility for those affected by the Snap. It was traumatic enough for you, and you didn’t even get Snapped.

People had collected the ashes and taken them to doctors, hoping. . .

“Her therapist thinks so. And Lizzy doesn’t want to stag in Canada.” Nathan rubs the back of his neck.

“Are you okay with that,” you have to ask. “You're young. It doesn’t have to be your responsibility. You should be able to date and move in and not have to look after Lizzy-”

“I want to. . .and I’m not,” Nathan does air quotes, “building a family.”

“You never know.”

“I do know,” he tells you, meeting your gaze. “I’m not interested in the nuclear family thing.”

You blink.

“I’m ace. Look it’s not a big deal but I wanted to let you know, and that you can always move to New Asgard with us.”

You swallow. The idea of your siblings living in New Asgard, would they be in the path of would-be Thanos’? There seemed to be a new catastrophe everyday and now Deviants too. Maybe you should call the Government. They could get in touch with Captain Marvel, right?

“I have a job.” It sounds weak even to your ears.

“I know. No pressure. Seriously. Just, visit, call, zoom?”

“Yeah. I will.” You remember all the voicemails you’ve left Lizzy.

Did she even want to see you?

Before you leave, you run your fingers over the freshly dug grave, soil upturned, and watch as flowers bloom over Ajak’s grave. Blue and yellow wildflowers.

****

You say goodbye to Nathan at the airport, dreading the three separate flights you need to take to reach Kingo. It’s Sprite that hugs him the hardest, punching his arm, and grinning, “two for flinching,” like a particularly annoying aunt to her favorite nephew.

You hadn’t told him about the possibility of the world ending, again. What good would that do? Everyone on the planet lived with existential PTSD, Spiderman destroying the London Eye didn’t help.

You sit next to Ikaris in business class and spring for purchasing headphones. Best ten pounds you’ve ever spent. Sersi hadn’t thought twice about sitting with Sprite.

Neither Ikaris nor you make another attempt at small talk.

It’s not until your layover in Doha that you stretch your legs.

“You didn’t tell him about the whole new Celestial did you,” Sprite asks you while you wait for a McDonald’s meal. Your internal clock is messed up. It could be breakfast or dinner.

“No,” you sigh. “I feel like-okay telling someone would freak them out but maybe telling New Asgard? They have ships? People could be saved, they could call in backup. We, you don’t have to do this alone.”

Sprite sighs. “I-I thought one day we’d finish and I could, maybe back on Olympia there might be a way for me to change. . .and now-we can’t just,” she looks down at her shoes, “I spent nearly ten thousand years protecting this planet and now we’re just supposed to let it die. That’s not what I signed up for.” She laughs darkly, “not that I signed up for anything apparently.”

You wrap an arm around her shoulder, “You’ll have time to talk this through with a therapist after.”

She looks up at you, “someone’s counting their chickens before they hatched.”

“Very punny.”

“Thanks.” Sprite adds, “I told my D&D group I’d be gone. They were worried.”

“That's what friends do.”

“I’ve never been able to stick around in one place for long,” she muses, “not after. . .I’d tried and people got really burn the witch quick.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. You didn’t make me like this.”

You grab food for Sersi and Ikaris too.

***

Kingo introduces yet another Auntie he’s older than. You’ve lost track, looking through your messages: trying to get work off your back, replying to your brother, seeing your sister still hasn’t responded. The world’s going to end in days. You should be with them? What were you even going to do to stop this?

Not for the first time you want to call the Wakandan Embassy. Maybe their technology could help?

But even Sersi was on board with bearing the responsibility on her own.

And Kingo-

He’s supposed to be saying goodbye, but that involves introducing everyone in Karun’s family. They keep spawning. You think they must’ve called people over. One of the old men is definitely the neighbor. Karun’s wife quickly gets food going: wanting to send her husband and Kingo off with snacks. It’s a lot.

You doubt Arishem had this in mind when he created Kingo.

“Ah and that is Kush,” Karun excitedly gabs, “he is studying for his entrance exams. We are very proud of him!”

“I miss when you could just make things up and people believed them,” Kingo sighs, “now you need accreditation.”

Sersi frowns, “well, yes-otherwise you get quack doctors and pseudoscience. There’s enough of that within academia to start with.”

“We can’t all inherit our father’s media company,” you point out. Karun had signed pictures with Kingo Sr. It was a photograph of the entire cast for some folk tale musical.

“Hit me up for a job. Make nepotism work for you,” Kingo grabs you by the hand. “What’ve you been up to? Wait-do you know,” he narrows his eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Too late for that,” Sprite says bitterly. Being around Kingo was putting her in a mood.

“Oh. Thank god. Keeping secrets, smh. Am I right?”

“Well you obviously told Karun,” Sersi says.

“And apparently the whole family,” Ikaris adds, holding up a photograph of a teenage Karun and Kingo. “Do they all know?”

“Eh. It’s not a big deal. Once we got over the vampire and evil jinn theories we really bonded. You should watch 30 hours in Mumbai. A real tear jerker. Almost as good as Dangal,” Kingo explains, before calling out to someone in Marathi.

You barely retained any Hindi.

Some memories, some lives, were clearer than others. You could still picture the waterways of Tenochtitlan, but India was a blur.

“So they know,” Sprite finishes.

Karun’s wife, Seema, comes out with lunch boxes, all filled with freshly made food. They’re all labeled. There’s more than enough to get you all through the plane ride to Australia: to Thena and Gilgamesh.

And then there’s more goodbyes all over again as she fixes Karun’s lapels.

Kingo puts the food in the car.

“I don’t think we can all fit,” Sprite frowns.

“We can split a cab,” you offer.

“We fit, don’t worry,” Kingo says before squishing four people into the back of his car. It was an absurdly tight fit. Sprite sat on the edge of the seat, your knees jammed against Sersi.

“We should’ve split a cab,” Sprite grumbles.

***

Sersi breaks the news again. And again.

No Olympia.

Their entire life was a lie.

You wonder how this kind of world altering news will impact Thena’s mental health. Her grasp on reality was fucked. This couldn’t help.

You understood, looking up at the night sky.

Time had stood still at Thena and Gilgamesh’s homestead. There were stars you had not seen since Airdrie. The London smog was not nearly as bad as it had been at the turn of the last century, the tail end of the Victorian era. But here even the Milky way was visible to the naked eye like it had been centuries past.

Learning the truth of Arishem’s mission was watching Tony Stark fall out of the wormhole all over again. It was learning about aliens, that there were empires grander and more powerful with their eyes on Earth. The Hulk, Thor: it had never stopped after New York. The attacks, the threats had kept coming from people and the stars.

Nothing had ever been the same.

There was Alien insurance that could be added to houses like Volcano Insurance.

Mutants went viral on Tiktok.

But everytime a Thanos level event happened, you and the rest of humanity remembered how vulnerable the little blue dot called Earth really was.

This was their wormhole.

“Can I join you,” Sprite asks, sitting down on the packed earth with you.

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice out here.”

“Relaxing.”

Sprite laughs, “we should’ve taken a quiet country vacation instead.” She inhales deeply. “There’s dolphin’s off Scotland.”

“Next time,” you lay your head on her shoulder.

“You sound so sure,” your old friend mutters, “a celestial. A fucking Celestial.”

“They can’t be that bad-”

“What did Druig tell you about Arishem?”

“Honestly,” you offer, pulling away, “not much.”

“To call them gods isn’t an exaggeration. It’s not like with us, people worshiping something they don’t understand. They’re gods. The whole life, death and universe shabang.” Sprite closes her eyes, the tired expression on her pixie features at odds with her age. The trepidation in her eyes reminded you of the British Indian soldiers on leave. Eyes that contained all the horrors of war; Sprite who had seen more horrors than had ever been put to historical record.

You’d been sacrificed once.

“I should’ve-I should have tried more, built-I could’ve had what Kingo does! Family. Real family. Not a bunch of losers Arishem stuck on the same ship.”

You try to comfort her. “Family, are people you love not necessarily always get along with. Or even like all the time.”

Sprite intertwines her fingers with you. “I’m glad you shot an arrow at me.”

“I was shooting a deer.”

“Way to ruin the moment,” she snipes, both of you bursting into laughter.

***

Kingo’s private plane was a game changer.

“Please tell me this is some green lofty Stark tech so I don’t have to feel bad about the CO2 emissions,” you ask the Southeast Asian in appearance Eternal.

“Yeah! Nothing but the best for Kingo Jr. or Is it Kingo the fourth now?”

Sprite rolls her eyes.

“Guys,” Kingo points out, jumping from topic to topic, “should Thena have a knife on the plane?”

“It’s fine,” Thena doesn’t look up from her wood whittling.

“She said it’s fine,” Gilgamesh echoes, sitting down next to you and leaning his seat back.

You trust Gilgamesh’s judgement on this.

“Um,” Kingo continues to look worried.

Karun hands him a drink.

You were used to Kingo being surrounded by friends. He’d always known merchants and butchers, haggling with a smile and actually managing to get fresher produce. Haggling is an art. Karun and his kin were just the latest in a long line of people that Kingo had built friendships with.

It was Kingo more than any of them that had taken to being human like a fish to water.

“You mentioned the deviants could speak now,” Gilgamesh asks Sersi, looking pensive.

“What does it matter,” Ikaris cuts in, “They’re deviants. We have a job to do.”

“Oh right,” Sprite says sourly, “our mission. Because that’s going well.”

“Sprite,” Ikaris chidded as if he had any authority.

You busied yourself with the contents of Kingo’s mini fridge. There were masala lays and bottles of beer. You play with the inflight tv, wondering if Kingo had anything other than his own movies.

“Sersi,” Gilgamesh recenters the conversation.

“Yes, um,” she nods, “He-they,” cleary she wasn’t sure what pronouns to use and only Sersi would be worrying about pronouns when dealing with deviants for the first time in milena, “tried to speak before attacking.” She purses her lips, “about Arishem. I don’t know.”

“Then they have the capacity for higher thought,” Gilgamesh ponders, “are more than predators following their nature.”

“What are you saying,” Kingo asks carefully.

You frown, “that still means they chose to attack us in London. They could’ve remained in hiding.”

“Do you think,” Sersi says slowly, “that they sense Tiamut’s birth?”

“If we are all children of Arishem,” Thena trails off, her pencil stilling. What must she feel now, learning that the illness in her mind wasn’t delusional hallucinations but memories of other worlds? She was holding herself together admirably. You thought this must be hardest for her.

Learning the truth did not stop her flashbacks from occuring like a glitch in the matrix.

“Does it matter.” Ikaris clicks his jaw.

“Yes,” Gilgamesh argues, “if they are sentient beings then we should try to. . .we shoukd hear them out. Everything we thought we knew was wrong. What if we are wrong about them. Clearly, they evolved.”

Sprite stands, “did you forget they killed Ajak!” Tears shine in her eyes. The wound still fresh.

You wonder what Ajak woukd have done if she lived. Would she have told them about Tiamut? Would the Eternal leader have let the Earth die? You hoped not. But you had never been close, you could not guess at her feelings for humanity, her loyalty to the mission might have won out.

It didn’t matter.

Ajak was gone.

You’d never know what she would have done if she had lived:

“Sersi,” Gilgamesh says, “perhaps they can be reasoned with. From their point of view, we have hunted them to near extinction. Should we not try to do things differently-better than we have? We can’t afford to fight the deviants and stop Tiamut at the same time.” His arguement was well put.

You’d never faced deviants before.

“Arishem created the deviants for a reason,” Ikaris states, “just as we have a purpose.”

“Oh and I suppose that makes it right,” you point out, “and if Arishem told you to let Thanos kill half the universe that makes it alright!”

“You’re human. I don’t expect you to understand.”

Kingo defends you, “hey! It’s her planet we’re talking about here.”

“And billions of people,” Sersi collapses into the seat, her expression that of a deep rooted depression.

Thena places her hand over Karun’s camera lens.

“They. Killed. Ajak.” Sprite slams a steak knife into the coffee table you were all gathered around.

“Ajak knew,” Thena adds quietly.

The woman had left behind so many questions.

You think of the iridescent alien creatures that had smacked Ikaris aside with ease. Sersi’s abilites had only bought seconds. They had made you feel so small. What were a few magic tricks against alien creatures that could take on an Eternal?

The images of the Battle of New York fill your thoughts again. Everything had changed after that.

“And she knew it was the right path,” Ikaris again argues, “that’s why she was the leader.”

“You’re talking about the destruction of an entire planet,” Sersi points out, hurt in her eyes as she regards her former lover.

“And billions of new worlds.”

“He has a point,” Kingo points out, “I don’t like it, but who are we to decide which lives matter more?”

You roll your eyes, “um, the lives currently existing obviously! Those new worlds are theoretical, they don’t even exist yet. If Tiamut has waited 5 billions years already, can’t they wait another 5 billion for the sun to die? You can have planet earth then.”

“It’s the way of things,” Ikaris once again argues, “destruction so that new life may begin.”

Kingo shakes his head, but says nothing, looking tormented at having to bear the responsability of Earth, of Tiamut.

“You haven’t seen worlds die,” Thena notes, her gaze lost to her memories.

Gilgamesh squeezes her shoulder in sympathy.

It was the same arguement, recycled, as time ran out for your planet.

***

Mexico was both exactly how you remembered it and incredibly changed.

Kingo’s plane landed in Mexico City, the sprawling metropolis was akin to most cities in the world. But once you left the city behind, you saw traces of what life had been like at the turn of the century. People still hung their laundry up to dry and the closer you got to the mountains Druig had made his home in, the less development there was. You wondered how much was Druig’s doing and how much of it was just a result of how remote this cerro still was with its dirt road.

“You two have been here before,” Kingo asks you and Sersi. “Right?” You’ve made a stop at an Oxxo to grab snacks and refuel.

“In the 1800s,” Sersi answers. You split some pecan pies with her.

You look up at the mountains surrounding you. It was hot and humid in the worst of ways. “I was buried here last time, no,” you scrunch your nose, “the time before that with Sersi.” You were pretty sure it had been in the 1800s. “I died somewhere in Bangladesh I think?” There was so much to remember.

Humans lacked the capacity to live as long as you have. You didn’t have space to remember everything.

“That’s ghoulish,” Kingo frowns in that humorous way of his. He’s always been charismatic.

“I don’t really think about it. . .” It was rare for you to come across your grave. Different places, centuries later, this was the only one you knew the location of. Now you weren’t sure how to feel about your bones rotting in the earth. Was there even anything left?

Sersi squeezes your hand.

“Why haven’t you talked to Druig,” Sprite asks, nosy as always as she nicks your drink without thought. You were used to Sprite and Sersi. You’d missed Kingo in your past lives.

You shrug, biting into the thin pastry. It was always fun to try snacks in different countries. You just wish all this travel wasn’t done under the cloud of another impending apocalypse.

Sprite jabs her elbow into your side, “Come on. Spit it out.”

“Fuck, that hurt,” you complain, covering your mouth with your hand.

“So?”

Kingo also leans in.

You roll your eyes, “seriously?”

“Well now I wanna know,” Kingo nods.

“Eh,” you look down at your shoes. It was a bit weird where you did want to vent but also didn’t want to tell them because it would get back to Druig in the form of Kingo saying shit. They were your family. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to finish Uni and then there was the whole Snap and. . .it honestly seems a little fake even though I can remember everything.” You couldn’t have dragged your baby brother to your husband’s commune.

Kingo pats your shoulder, “that’s. . .”

Karun shoves the camera in your face.

“Really,” you take a step back.

“It makes for good drama.”

“Karun worked on Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro.”

“So why are you working for this one,” you ask Karun. There was no way being a valet was this man’s dream.

“There is so many places and things to learn when working with Kingo,” Karun smiles kindly, “like all of you! What do you see when you die?”

You cringe.

“Don’t answer that,” Sprite pulls you away.

Back to the car.

“Give me my soda back,” you tell her even as you grab it. It was hot and already sweat ran down your back.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod. It had never been that you didn’t want to see Druig. . .you just wanted to take care of some other stuff first. Sort the mess of memories in your head as much as you could. Time, you had wanted time to figure yourself out first.

It wasn’t fair.

To either of you.

It never had been.

Shakespeare couldn’t have imagined a better tragedy.

***

You’d honestly forgotten how creepy this place could be. You didn’t want to sound judgemental, or dimish each villagers life and their autonomy, only you couldn’t let go of the idea that they couldn’t consent to Druig’s whole mind control as a deus ex machina when it was all they had ever known. Over two hundred years later, and you still hadn’t come around on this.

Neither had anyone else.

“Can I film you sir,” Karun asks someone.

You search the man’s face for familiar features. You’d likely known this man’s ancestors. He might even be Cualtzin’s great something.

You swallow, suddenly wishing you had talked to Druig before. You wanted to do this in private, to have a change to see him before everyone by yourself, and maybe guilt also wormed its way into your thoughts. Would he be hurt you didn’t seek him out? You’d known for years.

You wanted a proper reunion without the impending birth of a celestial hanging over everything.

Sersi intertwines her finger with yours.

You only hoped your sister would come around. You needed to talk to her before-

Sprite asks a man, “Hey, estamos buscando a Druig. Donde esta?”

“De que conoces a Druig?”

“Somos,” Sprite thinks on it, “amigos de la universidad.”

Their eyes grow gold.

Definitely creepy.

Druig steps out of the community center. Though the way this place ran, everything was communal. That was one thing you’d liked about this place, how close knot everyone was. And the food.

Your heart lurches in your chest when you see him, the same dark hair, cheeky smile with those mischievous eyes. Any doubt of the validity of your feelings, of your memories, faded away because this was real, he was here in the flesh. Like learning to ride a bike, you slipped back into the habit of being in love.

“I miss you all,” are Druig’s first words to the Eternals after centuries in a warm tone that was a complete turn from his schism from the rest of his companions.

Your fingers tighten around Sersi’s hand.

It’s obvious when he spots you.

Caught off guard as his eyes widen, whatever he was about to say is forgotten. “My lady-” Druig always has the brightest smile.

“Druig,” you rush forward.

It’s without throught. You just need him at that moment.

And he needs you.

Druig cups your face in his hand, resting his forehead against yours.

You stare into his eyes, feeling amazed that you were able to spend another lifetime with the man you loved. The only man for you. In his gaze, the history and love shared between you echoed back.

“You’re getting this? Please tell me you're getting this,” Kingo’s terrible stage whisper breaks your trance.

“I am Sir. Do not worry.”

And you remember why you were here with the rest of the Eternals.

“What’s wrong,” Druig frowns.

You didn’t want to tell him any of it. You wish you could shield him from the news of Ajak and Tiamut, from learning that his entire existence was a farce, but you couldn’t. The Eternals needed him. Earth needed him.

Pepper Potts would understand how you felt at this moment.

“You should sit down.”

***

Sersi explains the finer details, filling in the truth with the astral projects she’s had with Arishem shince Ajak died.

You observe how he takes the news, sitting next to him. The muscles of his arm shift under your hand. There’s no easy way to break the news of the Emergence.

Nothing would matter if the Earth was destroyed.

You knew he’d help.

But it was easy for you to read the vitriol in his face. You could practically hear him think back on every event they had watched impassively as innocents died, trusting Ajak’s judgement that they were doing the right thing to ensure humanity entered an age of enlightenment, only to learn it had been a lie.

Druig had a temper.

When he’d finally snapped, the Eternals had disbanded, because of him they’d gone their separate ways.

“You’ve given me a lot of bad news in one go, Sersi,” he finally states, bitterness lacing his light tone.

This was not going to go well.

“Will you help us,” Sersi asks, barely finishing before her phone rings.

Druig clenches his jaw.

You squeeze his arm in support. You were here for him, for however long that was. Again, you think of your siblings; of Sarah who sent you something off your amazon wishlist on your birthday even though you guys barely talked anymore; the Indian place that gave you two orders of rice for your curry order for free. All these people. . .

Druig stands. “Do you all remember Tenochtitlan? Beautiful. The canals. Tlatelolco.” He pauses in front of Gilgamesh and Thena, looking genuinely happy to see them again, “It was the last place we all lived together.” For them alone he had left this place for a decade.

“I protected these people for twenty generations now. From the outside world and from themselves,” he saunters over to Kingo and Karun, bitter in his gloating. “Your kind my friend, you will be responsible for your own extinction one day. Don’t you think.”

You sigh when Karun earnestly answers Druig’s rhetorical question.

This was not going to end well.

Druig possess Karun.

Kingo immediately surges to protect his friend, “Oh no you didn’t.”

Covering your face with your hand, you sigh, letting your head fall as they talk about streaming views when the world is about to end.

It gets worse when Ikaris tries to leave.

“Druig this is serious,” Sersi tries.

“I’ll tell you what’s serious. I’ve just been told I’ve been sent on a suicide mission for the past 7,000 years and that my entire existance was a lie. So excuse me for not giving a shit about your plan right now.”

Yeah, he was not taking this well.

You knew from the moments of travel where no one could do anything but stew in the truth that everyone was feeling torn, but Sersi and the rest were trudging through to fix the situation before they had their existential crisis.

Druig slams the door when he leaves.

Thena gives you a long look.

You’d never been able to read her.

“I’ll. . .go talk to him,” you tell them, feeling incredibly awkward.

Spite, being her usual self, asks you like she had hundreds of years ago, “him? Really?”

You roll your eyes and chase after him.

“How long have you known,” Druig says coldly.

He stands on the edge of the treeline. You know where this pathway leads. The graveyard.

Kingo was right, it was strange to think you were both here and buried here.

“Not long after Thanos,” you answer honestly. You didn’t want to do this now. Not about the magic, not about the time, or Thanos or any of it. Not when-

You’d seen people turn to ash.

Running into the flat corridor and people just. . .gone.

He turns to you. “You didn’t come,” his voice was small.

You reach for his hands, “I had to take care of my brother,” you explain, “and then. . .my head was a mess. I remembered bits and pieces but not in the right order.”

“I’m not mad. . “ he says softly, looking up through his fringe at you.

“I didn’t think you would be. . .I just needed time and was psyching myself out and now this-”

Druig’s fingers tighten around yours, “The Emergence.”

“You have to try,” you plead with him, “isn’t it what you’ve always wanted. To do something instead of sitting by?” Here you were, begging for the future of humanity. You’d never felt that difference between you and your husband more.

“My love,” he sighs, “even if I could. . .this is not just any mind I would have to control.”

“So you won’t,” you frown, voice wavering. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

Ikaris you’d expect.

Even Kingo and Sprite’s hesitance made sense.

But Druig-

“That’s not what I said,” Druig says slowly. “We could take the Domo-”

“You once told me,” you say as you gaze into his eyes, “that you wanted to be buried here. On Earth. That you were as much of this Earth as I am.” Your lips tremble, your words hanging in the air.

“And I do,” he utters with a turbulent sea of emotions on his face, “But I am a selfish man, my lady. I want more time. For us.”

Tears fall from your eyes. “There might be more,” your smile is small, “we might pull this off. And if not, I wouldn’t change a thing. How lucky are we to have had lifetimes?”

Druig smiles, looking as handsome as he had in Australia, before leaning in to kiss you.

You meet him halfway.

There’s no rush.

A steady passion that never wavered, Druig kissed you like he had a thousand times before, like he might a thousand times more.

You wouldn’t give into the anxiety.

This was not the last time: they’d pull it off. You trusted that your patchwork family would save the world.

Just look at what the Avengers had managed to do.

You wrap your hands around his neck, placing a kiss against his cheek, “I missed you.”

Druig hugs you against his chest, “Sure, as if Sersi hasn’t replaced me,” he jokes and you know it’ll be okay.

You hope.

“Speaking of Sersi,” you say, “I should go let her know to get going, while you take care of things here.”

“One last thing,” he tells you.

“Yeah?”

Druig kisses you again.

You laugh against his plush lips.

“Sersi,” you spot her and Ikaris talking. Like any best friend, you immediately want to plant yourself as a shield between her and her ex.

They look alright, for the moment.

But you saw first hand how lonely she was when you found each other.

And you’d never liked Ikaris.

“Hey,” she waves you over.

Ikaris sulks, and you know he’s going to say something annoying once more.

A metallic screech fills the air.

You look up, instinctively trying to find the source. In the blink of an eye, a deviant snatches Ikaris into the air.

Sersi screams. “IKARIS!”

Fuck.

You look around wildly. There was nothing sturdy to hide in. Just huts and trees that they could rip to shreds. Your heart pounds in your ears.

For once you wish you knew fancy spells like Doctor Strange.

“Señora, esta bien,” a voice calls from the fog as you hover around Sersi.

What were you supposed to do?

“Watch out! Clear the camp!” Sersi yells.

It’s chaos as more deviants appear. Their bodies are exposed muscle, vines wrapped around to form animalistic creatures. In one you saw sabertooth tigers.

Fuck.

You clench your fists.

“Sersi,” you scream when a deviant lunges at her.

It’s too late.

A deviant comes barreling towards her.

“Get back,” Kingo yells, shooting fireballs at the thing, “it’s an ambush.”

Sprite grabs you, “come on!”

It’s chaos as people run into the forest. You’re not even sure it’s safe with these deviants popping up everywhere.

“Sprite, get Karun to safety!”

You don’t even see what happens, running with Sersi, running amongst the crowd.

Your eyes scan but there’s nowhere to hide.

“This way,”’she takes over, showing the streak of leadership Ajak must have seen in her, “quickly,” her first priority was ensuring the safety of these people.

It’s world war 2 all over again.

People running, attacks coming randomly. All you could do was hope your luck held out. (You hadn’t been snaped.)

“Get inside,” Sersi urges you.

“I’m not leaving you.”

She wants to argue but she also knows there’s no time. Her hands press against the wood, transforming it into metal.

She doesn't finish.

“Sersi!” The scream dies in your throat when the deviant tosses her body aside like she’s a paper doll.

You don’t have time to see if she’s okay. Your scream attracts the deviant’s attention. Blue and green and awful you hold up your hands, praying for something to happen. You didn’t understand magic.

Maybe you didn’t have to.

Without knowing, you’d made yourself reincarnate.

You act, raising your hands, aiming at the deviant and knowing something would happen. It would.

It does.

Light flares out of your hands. You feel the pull of magic from you, your teeth aching like you’ve got a brain freeze. The light blinds the deviant for seconds, sending it reeling back.

It shakes its head, disoriented.

You don’t know what else to do.

Sersi clambers out of the remains of a hut.

There’s nothing around you to use as a weapon, not really.

You scramble back, wanting to put distance between the creature and you. They certainly didn’t seem sentient. You cannot blame a predator for its nature.

Shots ring out.

You flinch.

The villagers line up, controlled, aiming their guns at the deviant. Buckshots ring out as they surround the deviant.

Your eyes widen in concert.

While the bullets ripped into the deviant’s iridescent hide, the alien creature grew annoyed. They weren’t putting it down.

It’s tail throws people aside.

You inhale sharply.

Unlike Sersi, they didn’t get back up.

Druig runs in, engaging the creature, weaving around and shooting it at close range.

It rears, angered.

Sersi spurs into action. She weaponizes a tree, her ability slowly turning a ring of bark into water, as Druig and his villagers keep the creature in place.

The magic is there, at your fingertips, it just needed a form to take, a spell to wield it properly. You flex your fingers.

Your breaths were sharp and shallow, adrenaline racing.

The tree, frozen into ice, traps the creature, and in a classical dysfunctional family way, Sersi and Druig argue as the deviant begins to shake the tree off himself.

Fuck.

You act, planting your foot forward, knees bent. Muscle memory took over, hundreds of years of experience, you see the ice. While Sersi and Druig argue about the villagers, your hands once more glow softly, a color between sunset and rust.

The ice moves with your will. The motion is fluid even as the weight of the branch slams into you. You grit your teeth. Your knees bend with the effort, more weight lifting than wand waving.

A branch breaks off and spears the deviant through the eye.

It happens in seconds.

You pant with exertion.

“How did you-”

The shock breaks Druig’s hold over their minds.

“Is that really important right now,” you run over to Sersi, looking her over.

“I’m okay,” she says quickly. “The others-” She looks further into the village where Kingo’s ability blasts through trees and the deviant: she doesn’t hesitate to run over.

“Head to the river,” Druig commands the villagers. They listen, trusting the man who had led them peacefully for generations. In some ways, they were better off than Wakanda, the front of Thanos’ war on earth, better off than London when Spiderman decided to go rogue.

You take a deep breath, concentrating.

“Right,” you run after her, stumbling after a step.

Druig catches you. “Careful,” he says, sounding grave.

Maybe it had taken more out of you than you’d thought. You think back to what Hoa had told you. What effect would using magic in this cycle have? Would you even reincarnate? Did it matter if they couldn’t stop the Emergence?

“I need to,” your legs shake.

“You’ve done enough,” Druig says gently.

It’s lucky timing. Ikaris flies in, slamming into the final deviant attacking the village.

This one proves its sentient intelligence, cleverly pinning Ikris face down.

Sersi runs at it with a spear.

Your husband tries to take aim but it’s too close to Sersi. It’s the same problem Kingo runs into.

You watch as Sersi and the deviant both fall into the well, disappearing beneath the surface.

“Sersi!” Ikaris runs, ready to play the white knight, tortured by duty.

The surface explodes.

An ungly mangled tree grows, the bark merged with the deviant in a disturbing form of mummification. You’d seen this on an episode of Hannibal.

But Sersi is alright.

“Sersi,” Ikaris hugs the stunned woman.

“Where’s Thena,” you look around. Gilgamesh was missing too.

Ikaris pulls away from Sersi, looking into the treeline.

You have a bad feeling.

***

You watch the pyre burn.

For hundreds of years you believed them to be invincible. Now you sat watching as Gilgamesh’s body burned to ashes. You hadn’t wiped the tears away. They’d dried on your cheeks long ago.

Exhaustion clung to your body. The magic trick had taken so much out of you. It was like running a marathon with no training, you were surprised to be awake. How could you sleep when Gilgamesh was-

Sprite rests her head against your shoulder.

You sit with her in the dirt.

Thena cuts a lonely figure, stark white in the dark of the night. A pale ghost. It had always been Thena and Gilgamesh.

In a small voice, Sprite mutters, “what if Arishem kills us all for trying to. . .”

You have no answers for her.

***

A Ramada Inn was the closest place near Phastos.

Sprite lays on your bed as you call your brother, “she said she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Nathan sighs.

You close your eyes, swallowing back the tide of emotion. Gilgamesh was dead. It still felt surreal. How could he die? How could any of them die? “Tell her I love her.”

Nathan pauses, static crackling over the phone call. “How serious is it? Tell me the truth?”

He’d been alone in Canada to identify your parents' bodies. An unlucky casualty of the snap. A car’s driver blew away into ashes and veered into their car.

“Just,” you clench your jaw. What was the point in telling them when they couldn’t stop this? Should you tell them? Try and save a little of humanity so that even if Sersi’s plan failed someone would survive. “tell her I love her, and to call me. Please.”

“So it’s bad.”

“Yeah.”

Sprite leans next to you, “don’t worry kid, we got this.”

Your brother replies, “tell her I’m taller.”

“Tell him-”

You laugh, “yeah. Sure,” they were such siblings. The way Sprite looked at him. . .having family outside the Eternals for once. It was good for her. Being accepted as the unaging crotchety old woman she really was. “I love you too.”

“Me too,” Spite adds, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. She hadn’t left your side since the funeral. Which was annoying because you could see Druig and Sersi discussing whatever plan she’d hatched and didn’t even know. . .you wanted more time with him, to settle back into being Druig&You.

On the plant things had been. . .it was the shittiest of reunions. Terrible timing.

You lean into her, “did you hear her?”

“Yeah. I heard,” your brother chuckles. “You two should stop by. It’s nice out here.”

“We will.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” You wait for him to hang up. How much time was left?

You’d never wanted to be a superhero. The Earth came too close to the brink of destruction: so many close calls, one of these days it wouldn't be saved. Right?

“Hello Sprite,” Druig walks in still clad in linen, “goodbye Sprite.”

“Have you ever tried not being a dickhead.” She’d been pricklier than usual since Ajak’s death.

“That’s childish,” he replies, sinking down to her level.

You roll your eyes, laying back on the bed. All you could do was sit and wait around for Sersi to convince Phastos. You didn’t think sending Ikaris was the right idea.

“At least I don’t have to possess people to have friends!” She storms off.

“Really,” you ask him pointedly.

“She started it,” he shrugs, dumping out a bag on the bed.

You turn onto your stomach: looking the clothes over. Denim, a black shirt, a worn leather jacket, and boots that were not handmade. He’d gone thrifting. You found the thought amusing.

“How are you?” Druig takes a seat on the bed, looking you over.

“Fine. I was fine by the time we took off. A bottle of coke does wonders.” The sugar had helped. And so had the nap while Kingo drove back to Mexico City.

“You’re using magic?”

“Before I remembered. . .it just came to me. Not that I know anything,” you close your eyes, trying to remember what exactly you’d told him. “It’s not like-I’m not trying to be the Scarlet Witch here, I just wanted to help.”

“I know.” He rubs your back gently.

You bite your lip. “I don’t know what this means for,” you gesture at yourself, “but can we just handle one thing at a time?”

“Do you want to know magic?”

You sit up. “Technically I have been using magic,” you wink at him, wishing things could be lighter. Gilgamesh was dead. You’d never run into the kitchen and see him covered in flour again.

He chuckles, blue eyes sparkling.

You take his hands. “I don’t hate it. But I’d rather see you again.” They’d save the world. You were manifesting it.

“You shouldn’t have to choose.”

“Don’t be stupid,” you tell him, running your thumb over his knuckles. He had changed. 7,000 years on earth had affected him. How could it not. Druig had lived through so much. You’d changed too. You were greater than the sum of your parts, no longer the simple slave girl in Athens, or the textile worker from Ghana. You’d grown. “I love you. The rest is just stuff to figure out.”

He smiles, “my beautiful lady, you have a way with words.”

You blush. “Shut up. I’ve been a lot of things but never a poet.”

Druig laughs, toppling you over into the bed. He presses his body against yours. Hand on your side, he kisses your mouth with his soft lips. “Is this okay?”

You dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. This wonderful man. You’d missed this. Missed him. You could not have imagined him in all your youthful fantasies. Druig was so much more. Hard headed with an empathetic soul: how could you not want him? Love was waking up everyday and choosing him, always and forever.

“Come here,” you kiss his jaw tenderly.

There was nothing sweeter than reuniting with your lover.

***

“So this is The Domo,” you gaze around, trying to take everything in. Makkari has become an even worse horder in the past few centuries. Living as long as they did meant a lot of keepsakes. And Makkari is of a sentimental nature, attaching past memories to emerald tablets and gold incan figurines.

Her collection in The Domo is priceless, a complete record of the last 7,000 years of humanity’s history. Her love letter to humanity.

Karun is having a similar wow moment, as he films the interior of the ship.

Druig nudges your shoulder with his own, “my beautiful, beautiful lady,” he offers you a simple beaded necklace. Each bead is hand carved and strung on a gold cord.

It takes a second for the memory to come, but you remember. Thebes.

He’s never asked your age in any life. You’ve only now noticed his simple joy at being able to spend however many years you could together.

You’d freeze yourself in this moment if you could and spare Druig another death, another cycle.

“You kept it,” you say in amazement.

“There’s more around here,” amusement in his features. Who could find anything in Makkari’s clutter?

“Druig.” You melt. More than two thousand years later and he could still surprise you in the ways he loved you.

He slips his hand into the back pocket of your jeans, squeezing your ass.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you fumble to wrap the necklace around your neck, the ancient clasp easier to work than modern ones. It was only hours ago that Druig had squeezed your bare ass, urging you to ride him harder.

“Really,” Phastos groans, “in my lab?”

“Yeah,” Kingo piles on, “was the plane not enough?”

Considering the world might end, you don’t really care. Neither does Druig.

Shamelessly, he ignores their comments. “Phastos, I need to be able to control the mind of a celestial.”

“Okay. Get ready for it.” Phastos turns on his lab, holographic blueprints detailing the mechanics of the plan to stop the Emergence.

“Bracelets? You made us bracelets?”

You take in the image of a celestial for the first time. There was always more to the universe. Why couldn’t it be something good? Like the Asgardians.

Druig presses a kiss to your shoulder.

You push away the negative thoughts.

Manifesting. Right. You could do that. Think positively. Manifest a million more days. Had Druig tried Greggs? The world would be saved and you’d take him to Ireland again. He’d meet your siblings. You’d fix things with Lizzy.

“So here’s a little Celestial 101,” Phastos says, and proceeds to speak absolute gibberish. It flies right over your head.

Druig shifts. He rests an arm around your shoulders as Phastos finishes with his bracelet machine energy thing. The Unimind.

Ignoring Kingo’s late capitalist desire to turn everything into a profitable brand, she asks, So suppose Druig can, say put Tiamut to sleep-then what? Her hand remains in the air, asking her question, curious as to what the next part of the plan was. Tiamut wouldn’t sleep forever. Druig was going to buy time.

“We find humans a new home on another planet,” Sersi says cryptically. Which yeah. Was not a solution.

Your people had only built a long distance spacecraft once, for five people.

“Are we building them a big ship too? Take a pair of each animal,” Sprite pokes holes into her non plan.

“You know what’s never saved the world,” Phastos says annoyed, “your sarcasm.”

“Space colonization could take decades.”

“It could happen quickly with our help.”

“Do we have that time,” you point out. “How long would Tiamut remain asleep for?”

“I don’t-” Phastos looks at Druig for an answer which your lover doesn’t have. It wasn’t like he’d put a celestial to sleep before.

“What if we accidentally end up killing Tiamut,” Kingo brings up. “We could be responsible for billions of lives not being created across the universe. Not to mention the death of a Celestial. All bad.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “how could you value potential lives over people alive right now! Who’d die. Remember. We have to take that chance.” Tiamut’s life was worth the billions of people, the billions of lifeforms on your planet.

“Who are we to decide that!” Kingo rubs his forehead in agitation, “what if by stopping the natural cycle of the universe we cause something worse? Throwing nature out of balance always ends badly. Global warming anyone?”

You frown.

“Can we not work with nature sir,” Karun asks, camera rolling, “ask Mr. Tiamut to wait until we can live somewhere else?”

“Both of you are too close to the situation to think objectively,” Sprite cuts in, “we have to do what's right for the universe.”

You arch a brow, “seriously? This is all any of you know! That makes you biased too.”

“How would we even know what’s right,” Phastos says dejectedly. “We barely found out what we are? Not a great track record here.”

“Ajak chose Sersi to be the leader. Sersi should decide,” Ikaris puts in his two cents.

You look at your old friend, heart lodged in your throat. You already knew Druig would risk it. It was just a matter of getting everyone on board.

Phastos' plan requires everyone to wear a bracelet.

There’s an anime friendship joke there somewhere.

“I-”

“So even you’re having doubts,” Sprite throws her hands up in the air. “This wouldn’t happen if Ajak was here.” She stalks off.

“Sprite,” Ikaris calls after her. When she doesn’t come back, he follows.

“Let her blow off some steam,” Kingo follows Ikaris out of The Domo.

“Great,” Phastos utters, powering down the holograms, “glad to see we can still work together.”

“Make the bracelets,” Sersi nods. “Just in case.”

“How many,” Druig pauses, “of us would we need to power your,” he gestures at Phastos futuristic printer.

“I don’t know.” Phastos admits. “A lot of this is guesswork and approximation. I don’t know the limits of your ability, or how that translates to a Celestial. There’s no time to measure averages of built up cosmic energy.”

You swallow, pulling away to let them talk it out while Sersi chases after the others. Whatever was decided, it would be together.

It would be okay.

You knew them well.

Karun asks you shyly, “Kingo tells me you reincarnate.”

“It’s a party trick.” You felt as stressed as everyone else.

“So karma and-”

“Magic.” You answer the question he was about to ask. “I don’t, it’s not the Hindu gods. It’s some spell I accidentally cast and now,” you shrug.

“Oh.” He nods. “Well, the answer lies not in aliens or magic.” Karun smiles kindly. “That is why we aim for moksha. Though I think this could only be my second or third life at most.”

You can’t help but smile. “How is your family?”

“Good. They know I do important work with Kingo. Cinema, movies, it is now how we pass things on. I remember the first time I saw Kuch Lich Hota Hai!”

“I’ll have to watch it some time.”

It was easy to see why someone as easy going as Kingo had hit it off with Karun.

“I’m close to figuring it out,” Phastos calls out.

You look up just in time to see Ikaris shoot lasers at the inventor.

Everyone stands in stunned silence.

“Ikaris,” Kingo calls out, “what are you doing?” He looks at Phastos’ prone body.

“I’ve let this go on long enough,” Ikaris stalks further into the room. He reminds you of a sleek predator, of facing the deviant back in Mexico. And now you’re stuck in close quarters with him.

You weren’t stupid.

You couldn’t hold out against Ikaris.

You were all going to die.

“Don’t hurt him,” Sersi rushes to Phastos’ side, helping him up.

His shoulder smokes where the lasers made contact. The fabric is blacked. But Ikaris hadn’t hit him for long enough to truly hurt him. It was lucky they were built so durably.

“He lied to us,” Sersi stares Ikaris down, tears in her eyes. “He already knew about the emergence.” She’d made her peace with being abandoned, but to be betrayed by someone she once loved, someone who remained as dear as family to her-

“No he didn’t,” Kingo denies.

“Ajak told me everything when we left Babylon.”

“What?”

You suck in a breath. “That long.”

They’d all changed, grown to love humanity because they’d thought they were here to protect the Earth. But Ikaris, your heart hurts for him. He’d always been distant and remote. No wonder.

He’d purposely kept his distance. It would be easier to carry out his mission, Arishem’s mission, that way, without attachment.

“You were never going to let her stop the Emergence.”

“No.” Ikaris looks around at his team, “I only wanted to protect you from the deviants.”

“If Ajak wanted you to take her place, why did she choose me?” There’s a hard edge to Sersi’s voice. “

Ikaris says nothing.

Druig puts it together first. “He killed her.”

Spite turns away from Ikaris, unable to stand the sight of him.

You can’t believe it. Ajak and Ikaris. He’d trusted her above all others. For so long, Ikaris was the faithful follower. The Eternal Ajak relied on.

For him to kill her-

He’d always been a good soldier.

“I had to.”

“She loved you.”

Ikaris flinches. “Did she?” His eyes fill with tears. “Do you think it was easy to know the truth? To know that one day all this would end.” He glances at you. Meets everyone's eyes, searching, beseeching. He was so far gone. “To keep on lying to you.”

“If we gave humanity the choice, how many of them would be willing to die so that billions more could be born?”

“I suppose that’s easy to say when you’re not the one dying,” you retort coldly.

You’d never wished Ajak dead.

“Is this why you’re willing to kill,” Phastos asks furiously, “You are so pathetic.”

“I’m an Eternal Phastos. I exist for Arishem. As do you. That’s who you are.”

Phastos steps forward, unafraid to confront Ikaris. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about who I am, born or made. But I do not exist for Arishem. I exist for my family.”

“You are making the same mistake Ajak did.”

Makkarish wooshes in, rapidly motioning while she beamed with pride, I found Tiamut. The fastest Eternal was apparently the last one to find things out.

Ikaris’ eyes glow.

“No,” Kingo knocks the speedster out of the way. Blood seeps out of his shoulder, more viscous than human blood. He clutches his shoulder, “get out of here.”

Makkaris flees.

Ikaris stalks forward.

Kingo powers up. “You. Do. Not. Turn. Against. Your. Family.” His fireball grows, “Gilgamesh died because of you.”

“You will not succeed against me. And I will kill every one of you if I have to.” Having made his threat clear, he leaves.

Spite wails, collapsing onto her knees.

“What is this,” Thena glances around the wreckage of their family. Of your family.

Ikaris had once saved your life.

You didn’t understand the man. You never would.

“I-” Sprite looks at everyone. “I can’t. I know he killed,” she sobs then, “Ajak, but I can’t hurt-I can’t hurt my family.” A sheen passes over her fingers and she disappears.

“Sprite-” Sersi reaches out to the spot where she had been just seconds before.

Makkari runs in. She holds her hands up, before turning her palms down into fists. What happened? Where did Sprite go?

“I don’t know,” Kingo shakes his head. “Away. I-we’re no match for Ikaris.”

“Don’t say that Sir.”

“He really fooled us didn’t he,” he says sadly. Kingo looks over at Karun, “you should go be with your family.”

“Sir.”

“They need you. Whatever happens.”

“Kingo,” Sersi says carefully.

He shakes his head, “even with my help. . .we need a plan B.” He looks over at you. “I love the people of this planet, and even if I can’t save everyone, I can still save a few.”

New Asgard.

The Avengers.

This was bigger than you.

You nod, understanding him. “Okay.”

“We need you,” Sersi pleads.

“And fight my brother,” Kingo recoils.

“My lady,” Druig says carefully.

“Don’t-” you shake your head. No goodbyes. This wasn’t a goodbye. “It doesn’t matter because you’ll stop the Emergence.” You’ve never been more scared.

Serving as an army nurse had been a cakewalk compared to the end of everything.

He lifts his chin playfully, “anything for you my lady.”

You stifle tears. Instead you smile.

And leave with Kingo and Karun.

***

You cry saying goodbye to Karun.

“It has been an honor Sir,” he bows to Kingo.

Tears wet the Eternal’s cheeks. “No, it has been my honor. Not everyone would try to kill a vampire. Twice.”

They share a laugh.

In 3 hours he would be home. In 3 hours, there might not even be a planet left.

You call your brother from the plane, unable to stop crying. Ajak. Ikaris. Everything was falling apart and you could only hope the rest of them made it, that they could put Tiamut to sleep.

You wonder where Sprite is.

He doesn’t answer.

You call again.

And again.

You feel time slipping through your fingers. “How long do you think we have,” you ask Kingo. It was such a nice day outside. The skies were clear as you flew over Eurasia.

You wipe tears from your eyes, dialling your sister instead.

Please pick up, you begged the universe.

“I don’t know,” Kingo sighs, resting his head against the seat. “Really wish I’d kept in touch with Thor now. . .” He cracks a smile. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Karun too.”

“You don’t think-” Lizzy picks up. Her voice changed from the last time you had properly talked to her, a uni student, your older sister, full of life and bad advice.

“Hello,” her voice is groggy, “is that? Why are you calling?” Your sister sounds exhausted and monotone. The Snap had taken its toll on her. She’d missed out on years.

“Lizzy,” your voice is fragile. She’d actually answered you. She never did. You didn’t know why. Maybe there wasn’t a reason. But she’d pulled away so much. “How are you?”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“Oh. Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“Rough night?”

“No,” she sighs. “Can’t sleep.”

“Have you tried melatonin gummies?”

“Yes. They don’t help.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. For everything, that the world was ending, for whatever you’d done to her. You were tremendously sorry it had been her and not you. You should’ve been Snapped away.

“You didn’t do anything.”

“How’s New Asgard,” you ask instead.

“Cold.”

“Colder than Canada?”

“About the same,” her voice drifts. “Not that it matters.” Your childhood house had long ago been sold.

“Do you like it there at least?”

“Does it matter?”

You bite your lip, “of course it does.”

Lizzy doesn’t respond.

Kingo motions with his hand to get on with it, but you can’t. You can’t tell your sister who turned to ashes that the world is about to crack open, killing everyone. You can’t force her to live through another doomsday. You won’t be the one to put that on her shoulders.

It’s static.

Neither of you speak.

“Hey,” Lizzy says worriedly, “do you know if Norway gets earthquakes?”

“Why,” your heart sinks.

“Because the earth won’t stop shaking.”

“What!” Oh no.

“I have to go.”

“Lizzy, wait-”

“B-”

“Iloveyou,” you manage before the line goes dead. The world was ending and you were on a private plane.

Kingo takes your hand. “They never really leave you, do they?”

“No.”

“I’ve been lucky to meet so many cool and amazing people. I think of them, from time to time.”

You look over at Kingo, “you love this planet.”

“It’s my home.” He smiles, thinking back fondly of the milena he’d spent here, eyes wet.

“We’re lucky to have you-and all your bollywood dance scenes.”

He laughs as the plane shakes with turbulence and you don’t know if it’s the wind or the Emergence. It wasn’t a terrible way to die, here with a friend.

Squeezing your hand, Kingo adds, “you think you’ll be reincarnated as a Lumia?”

You roll your eyes as the plane shakes.

“Or Kree? Can’t forget about-”

“Not helping.” You frown. "Do you think there's more out there? More wolrds with Eternals and deviants?" More eternals who didn't know the truth?

Space had become so much more tangible since The Avengers. Since the Guardians. You looked up at the stars and wondered.

"Probably," Kingo nods, unconcerned.

But you were concerned. You'd had choice taken from you before due to societal norms, due to your position as a slave, as a woman. Didn't those worlds deserve the truth too? Didn't the Eternals deserve more than to carry out Arishem's wishes for millions of years, their minds wiped away like they were nothing better than a phone defaulted to factory settings? Wasn't Thena proof that more lingered inspite of Arishem's meddling?

"Let's survive this first."

You nod, "can't exactly weather this storm in a bunker." There had been no safe place from Thanos' Snap.

Kingo chuckles. “Thank you.”

“Yeah well,” you smile softly, “it’s not so bad, being your friend.”

notes: there will be an epilogue bc this chapter got SO long. sprite is so jealous of nathan growing up its insane but also its like the first time shes had humans who know what she is and accept her. reader going w kingo was really an excuse to bow out of the fight ngl. it might've gone the same was as the movie, mb not.

#a rose by any other name #druig x y/n #druig x reader #druig x you #me trying to finish all my wips challenge #rewatched the movie and ah i love eternals sm

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