Stephen was 10 years old when he first had the dream.

He found himself in a valley of bloody bodies, dead people who were only teens. Kids. Not even adults. Dead at his feet. He watched as one woke up, a brown-haired boy with gray-green eyes. He sat up, looked around, gasped.

He crawled over to a blonde girl, her throat slit. She looked about 17, maybe 18. "A-Anna? Anna? Anna, please!" He cried, clutching his dead friend.

The scene changed. The teen was now sitting on a wooden log in front of a giant pile of bodies, all from the blood-bathed valley. They were covered in a giant cloth, a makeshift shroud. They burned as the teen watched, tears streaking down his face.

A song began playing in Stephen's ears as he watched the bodies burn and the only survivor grieve. Stephen cried too, as the song began.

There are moments that the words don't reach, there is suffering too terrible to name.

Adults appeared out of nowhere, dressed in togas. They watched and cried, too. Some cried silently. Others wailed to the sky. Some shook their heads, refusing to believe the truth.

You hold your child as tight as you can, and push away the unimaginable.

The teen strung the possessions of his dead friends on his necklace. A silver coin, a gold coin, a clam shell, a severed goat's horn, a shard of gold, a silver skull ring, a burned white silk bag.

He put his friend's tool belt around his waist, sheathed his friend's reflective dagger in a sheath at his thigh. He cried into his tattered, bloody orange shirt. The same shirt that half the bodies wore.

The moments when you're in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down.

The next day, he walked down the streets of New York, looking up as a giant sphere parked above the buildings, looming and menacing.

The teen teared up, shook his head, and went into an alley for a second. A minute later, a man in a strong, protective suit with the symbol of a spider on his chest. He swung towards the sphere, fearless yet so, so afraid.

If you see him in the street, walking by himself, talking to himself, have pity.

He is working through the unimaginable.

A date flashed across Stephen's eyes: June 23rd, 2018.

Names ran through his head. The names of those who fell and died. Of those whose blood stained the flower filled valley.

Stephen woke up crying. His sister, Donna, hugged him. Asked why he was crying. He told her what happened in the dream. She pulled him closer.

He had the same dream when he was 14.

And again the night Donna died.

And again the night Victor died.

And again the night he graduated college.

And again the night he lost his hands.

And again the night he was accepted into Kamar-Taj.

And again the night the Ancient One died.

Every time, he realized and saw more. He saw how the valley was before. Teens laughed and the youngest kids played in the lake. The brown haired teen laughed with a black haired teen, his sea green eyes holding stars as they kissed and smiled. The blonde girl had stormy gray eyes. She pushed the kissing boys in the lake with a playful grin.

He saw the satyrs turn to flowers and strawberry bushes when they died. The next time he saw the blood stained flowers in the valley, he cried. Every time he saw a flower after that, he wondered if it had once been a life.

He never knew what it meant. He never figured out who the boy was. But he waited for that day. June 23rd, 2018.

---

On a day in 2017, Wong was listening to a song aloud in the library. Stephen opened his mouth, about to tell him to stop and use headphones.

When a new song came on.

There are moments that the words don't reach.

There is suffering too terrible to name.

You hold your child as tight as you can.

And push away the unimaginable.

The moments when you're in so deep.

It feels easier to just swim down.

Stephen froze. The same song from his dream.

Wong frowned, noticing. "Strange?"

"What is that song?" Stephen murmured, mind full of burning bodies and the tears of those who lost everyone and everything. A blood stained valley. Trees shredded to splinters.

"It's Quiet Uptown. Hamilton. Just came out. Why?"

Stephen heard the most familiar part and sang with it. He'd always sang it along with the voices.

"If you see him in the street, walking by himself, talking to himself, have pity. He is working through the unimaginable."

Wong stared. "It came out today. An hour ago. How...?"

Stephen sighed. "Dreams are odd things."

----

The day came. And Stephen watched as the sphere, the alien spaceship, finally came. He watched Spiderman swing towards it.

Later, when he was on the ship with the brown-haired boy, Peter, and Tony, he was sitting with Tony. And Peter walked in front of them, murmuring to himself.

"What's up with him?" Tony muttered.

"I know," Stephen whispered, looking at Peter with sadness and pity, "There was... a song once."

"What'd it say?"

Stephen took a deep breath. "If you see him in the street, walking by himself, talking to himself, have pity. He is working through the unimaginable."

Tony frowned, but didn't pry.

---

Stephen was in the Soul Stone, watching over Peter quietly. Peter was arguing with him. "You don't even know what I've been through!"

"...There are moments that the words don't reach. There is suffering too terrible to name. The moments when you're in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down." Stephen smiled slightly, tears pricking in his eyes. The bags under his eyes wettened.

Peter stopped, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Tears began to prick in his eyes, too.

"If you see him in the street, walking by himself, talking to himself, have pity. He is working through the unimaginable."

Peter was starting to cry. Stephen embraced him, carding ruined hands through soft, curly hair. Peter sobbed as he talked quietly, voice soothing.

"The satyrs turned to beautiful flowers, replacing the ruined strawberry bushes that used to grow. The Demeter cabin picked them for the younger kids. They loved the taste. They giggled as they played in the lake with Percy. He could always get them to laugh.

"You, Percy, and Annabeth always loved to spar with each other. You could never beat Annabeth, and Percy could never beat you. Nico and Will always watched. Nico insulted you guys, though not Annabeth, since he felt like living. Will cheered for you all."

He's trying to do the unimaginable.

Peter eventually calmed and quieted. Through the few months they stayed in the Soul Stone, Gamora and Wanda came by, calmed Peter. He became strong enough to explain everything, and they, Bucky, Sam, Quill, Drax, Mantis, Groot, T'Challa, Gamora, Wanda, Stephen, Shuri, Ned, helped him get through it.

They've done the unimaginable.

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Hey guys! As you can see, I listened to Hamilton. It was awesome. Normally, I hate rap. But it is now the only rap I will willingly listen to. Hope you enjoyed this one! Never be Cruel and Never be Cowardly. Bye, guys! See ya!