Scorpio

FORTY THREE - Down To Earth

The dark and silent atmosphere of space never ceased to amaze Estella with their silent, ethereal beauty. Nebulas lay strewn across the galaxy like vibrant, multicoloured orchids. Bits of twisted metal, perhaps once a satellite, a spaceship, or a robot, now stood as little gems of time, reflecting moody reds and lively blues like easter eggs of starlight.

Estella kept her eyes on the sky above, her back flat against Scorpio's spine, and simply watched.

"Hey, Scorpio?"

The constellation made a hum of acknowledgement.

"Do you know if my parents have, y'know...filed a police report...sold my bed...that sort of thing?"

Now, why would they do that? Scorpio asked bemusedly.

Estella fiddled with a loose seam in her hoodie pocket. "Because I've been gone for so long?"

Oh. They passed by a gleaming asteroid the size of Peter's Fiat before Scorpio spoke again.

Little Robin...when you took hold of that gauntlet, you came in contact with the very elements of the universe itself. Soul, mind, power, reality, space... Time.

Estella blinked, not understanding. "So I'm a time-traveller now?"

Not quite. Scorpio wove around a trail of rocks, and Estella watched them as they floated by. There is no light way to say this, but...you've contracted some Eau de Time on your being - left deltoid, to be exact. The balance of space and time must always be equal and opposite in every universe. Thus, when you return to your universe, the passing of time would have to change to strike a balance.

"Time stops?"

Time reverses, Scorpio corrected. By about sixty-three days - which brings us almost exactly to the moment you left it.

Estella took a moment to process the information. "So it would be like I never left?"

Well, almost, Scorpio amended. They'd think you were gone for an hour rather than over two months.

"Oh." Estella laid flat again on Scorpio's back. "Well, that's a good thing, right?"

That would be a matter of perspective, Scorpio intoned.

"I think it's a good thing." Estella adjusted herself, peeking over his shell at the vast ocean of dust clouds beneath her. They seemed to shift, chameleon-like, morphing from colour to colour: pulsating scarlet and sandy sunsets, like Wanda's hands and Shuri's dress. Shaded crimson and gold, like Mr. Stark's Iron Man suit and Steve's faded golden hair. Bright reds and cool blues like Peter and Alycs, laughing as they shoved greek food at each other.

"Do you think the Avengers will be happy after the war?" Estella asked, more to herself than anyone else.

Some of them might be sad for a while, Scorpio said gently. War and death do that to even the best of us.

Estella deflated slightly, turning around again. Her hand floated above her head, and she studied it: her once-dying flesh seemed to be encased in an intricate net of some sort, and a little bit of her purple light shimmered through when she moved her fingers.

"Could they be happy?"

Perhaps.

Estella beamed, and it might have just been her imagination, or maybe her eyes were closed all this time, but the stars and the light from her fingers seemed to shine even brighter than before.

Estella?

"Hmm?"

Did you kill Thanos? Scorpio asked conversationally.

"Kill Thanos?" Estella echoed, lifting her head from Scorpio's shell. "I didn't kill him."

Scorpio's voice took on a strange tone. Do enlighten me.

"He told me I was going to kill him and I didn't want to, so I didn't," Estella stated matter-of-factly.

"So I asked the stones to turn him and his people into a bunch of cuddly ducks and make them all go home."

Her starry companion went quiet. Estella glanced at the glittering shell of Scorpio's back worriedly.

"Does this mean the Avengers can't be happy anymore?" She asked.

Oh, little Robin, Scorpio rumbled, his voice heavy with laughter. I'm sure they can all be very happy now.

Eventually, the pair arrived upon a cluster of stars - familiar from textbooks and Under the Crimson Sun, and yet, the scenery never failed to astound Estella all the same. Scorpio secured his tail over her knees before he dove, buffeting her hair wildly around her face and streaking rustic browns and bright blues and fluffy whites in her periphery. They coasted down on a continent of stars, skimming through treetops, chasing away wispy clouds, coasting down on a small village of greyscale rooftops, before Scorpio finally slowed to a stop.

Estella glanced around her, taking in the crooked trees, the panelled house, the glinting scaffolding that now glittered from the light of Scorpio's stars. The master bedroom was dark, but the kitchen still glowed, warm and golden.

Around the corner, the orange moon flickered.

Welcome home.

Estella took a deep breath and slid off his back. Her feet found the steadiness of the wooden planks beneath her feet a strange contrast to the rhythmic undulating motion of Scorpio's space journey. She turned around, finding him watching her, as dark and mysterious as she first saw him.

Without a waver in her hand, Estella rested her palm on the claw of the great scorpion.

"Thank you for showing me the universe, Scorpio."

The constellation chuckled. Oh, but the universe is so much greater than that, little Robin.

Estella grinned, taking a step back. "I'm sure it is."

Scorpio watched her with twinkling orbs, bright with wisdom and mischief and the orange moon that shone by the front porch. He gave her a titanic dip of his massive head, like a magician performing his last mystical stratagem for the night, like a tilt of a top hat. Then, with a flick of his segmented tail, he turned, a mottled red-and-black ribbon slithering away into the stars.