Find My Way

The Funeral

Eliza stood in front of the hotel room mirror and looked at her black dress. It was cotton fabric that fell to the bottom of her thighs in loose waves. The waist cinched and held tight up to her chest. There were two thick straps over each breast that wrapped up around her neck and crossed in the back to form an X.

She found the material itchy and the tightness restraining. Every single one of her breaths pushed against the seams and stopped short before she was able to fill her lungs. She let out the shallow breath and fixed the strap of her black sling. It left a red indent on the side of her neck from the tight fit around her. Her arm was positioned at a ninety-degree angle against her chest. Her shoulder was visible with the dress, showing the purple marks where the alien's teeth had dug in. Her entire shoulder was bruised as it slowly repaired itself, piece by broken piece. Every waking moment she could feel the shards wielding themselves back together. And every night she dreamed of the alien tearing it off again.

There was a soft knock on her hotel room door. She left the mirror to open the door. Rhodey stood on the other side in a black pressed suit. "Are you almost ready?"

She nodded as she turned to try and find her black flats. They rested beside the hotel's dresser. She walked over to them and stepped into them. The back of the shoes caved in under her heels. She grunted and leaned against the dresser as she pulled up one foot at a time and wiggled her index finger between her rough heel and the tight black fabric of the shoe.

"Eliza..." Rhodey stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "I know this is all happening too fast. The moving, the funeral, the news. It's all happening and none of us have really had time to process it, but you-" he stopped as she turned to him. Her blue eyes were clear and free of tears. He hadn't seen tears in them since the battle- since she held Tony's hand and felt the life leave his body. "You found out you lost two very important people to you within such a short time. If you want to talk-"

"I don't," she rasped. Her voice drawled from a lack of water or conversation.

Rhodey bowed his head. He looked at his hands as he rubbed against the pad of his right hand with his left thumb. "I've watched people I care about die before, Eliza. I have seen brothers in arms blow up right in front of me. But it's different when it's someone you love." His head lifted enough for his gaze to meet her unwavering blue eyes. "No one expects you to be perfectly healed." His brown eyes slipped over to her shoulder. The purple was darkest around the teeth marks.

"You healed," she noted as she looked him over. All the cuts and scraps from their fight had gone. There were no visible marks on him.

"You were bitten by a foreign alien species, Eliza. I think your healing time is slightly different from my small scratches and scraps."

She swallowed as she remembered the feeling of the beast's teeth grinding against her bone. She could still feel the way his jaw crunched down on her. It sounded like a bag of chips being squashed until all the chips turned to dust.

"Think of Bruce," he brought up Bruce Banner, who was permentantly big and strong and green. He was the best parts of The Hulk and the best parts of Bruce Banner all in one. Yet it still wasn't enough to save everyone. "He is wearing a sling, just like you. He's still hurt from putting that gauntlet on and snapping his fingers."

Her eyes lazily dragged up his frame to meet his. "Banner snapped his finger and got second-degree burns. Tony did it and he-" she stopped herself from saying it. She cleared her throat and instead looked at his shiny black shoes. "If anyone else had picked up those stones and snapped their finger, they would have minor burns that would heal in a few months."

"Eliza, don't go there-"

"Why did it have to be him?" She asked savagely. "Why did he have to be the damn hero? Why did he have to have the last words?" She blinked and looked up at him, knowing she wouldn't find the answers anywhere near him. She took in a shaky breath and felt her anger swell. It grew from a small flame to a roaring fire with a single breath. "I've been- been playing it all back in my head-" she lifted her good hand to roll her fingers next to her temples. "I keep thinking of the battle. At any one point, I had the gauntlet, T'Challa had it, Peter had it, then Carol. We all had it in our hands. If we had just slipped it on and snapped our fingers-" she snapped her fingers and watched the simple act of it. She stalled as her eyes locked on her own fingers. Slowly, her hand fell to her side. "Tony would still be alive."