Chapter Text
Stephen Strange rolled his eyes as he stepped through the portal.
This was the fourth time in as many months. The fourth time he had done a quick check on Tony Stark, to check that the engineer was staying out of trouble, only to find he was doing exactly the opposite. This time, he was chained to a wall in some dank basement, bruised and bloodied, and looking like he might not last the night. Stephen hadn’t wasted a moment in summoning the Cloak of Levitation and going to his rescue.
Again.
The moment the portal closed, Stephen knew something was wrong. He looked down at the patterns carved into the stone floor—patterns he was standing right in the center of.
The door to the basement banged open and three men appeared. Two went to Tony, each putting a gun to his head, as the third approached Stephen. He was a short man, bald, and moved with a deliberate nature, like a spider approaching a fly in its web.
“Welcome, Strange,” the bald man said. “I am Yax Holman.”
“I don’t care,” Stephen shot back, raising his gloved hands and stepping forward, his toe brushing the edge of the circle.
It was like touching a forcefield. A horrible energy cracked into him, making him see black for a moment before he stepped back, gasping, trying to summon a portal. Nothing happened.
“Nasty, isn’t it?” Holman said. He moved closer and Stephen took in how pale the man was, how deep the shadows under his eyes ran. “I apologize. But if you give me what I want, you and Stark can be on your way.”
The Cloak flew at the man, only to be hit with the same force Stephen had. It cowered in pain, taking shelter behind Stephen like a kicked puppy.
Stephen glanced over to Tony, whose eyes were fixed on Stephen. “He means nothing to me,” Stephen stated.
“And yet you’ve continually come to his rescue,” Holman said, noting Stephen’s surprise. “We’ve been watching you for quite some time, Strange. And every time Tony Stark is in trouble, you’re there, saving the day.”
Tony’s eyes had narrowed now, as though he were running calculations. Stephen kept his eyes on Holman as he said, “He has importance in a larger war that is to come. As do I. You, however, do not. So if you’d be so kind as to remove whatever half-assed magic this is and let me take him home, the universe would be grateful.”
Holman smiled, revealing metal teeth. They glinted in the basement’s dim light, reminding Stephen of a shark. “Of course. After.”
“After what? Do speed this up, I have more important places to be.”
“After you teach me your magic.”
Stephen huffed at that. “My magic takes years of training.”
“I do not require all your knowledge. Only a select part."
Stephen tucked that information away. "It also requires an exceptional mind.”
“I have trapped not only you but the infamously brilliant Merchant of Death.” Stephen saw Tony flinch at the nickname. “Do not underestimate my mind, Strange. Or what I am willing to do to make you cooperate.”
He snapped his fingers and one of the men by Tony put away his gun and pulled out a hammer instead. Stephen felt his heart stop as the man spread Tony’s hand out along the wall, hammer at the ready.
“I know all about your accident,” Holman said in a low voice. “All that talent, all that promise—wasted.”
Stephen could feel his own hands shaking and clasped them behind his back to hide them.
“How do you think Stark will feel if we break his? Do you think you could fix them? Or will they stay broken forever, like yours?”
Stephen searched for a comeback, and couldn’t find one. He was back in a hospital bed, opening his eyes to see machinery piercing his skin in a dozen places—
“Or,” Holman continued. “You can teach me. The choice is yours.”
Stephen hesitated, thinking fast. Tony hadn’t been gone that long, but it would only be a matter of time before his people were searching for him. He couldn’t teach Holman all he wanted before they found them and dragged him off to whatever jail cell the Avengers had access to these days. He could stall.
He also couldn’t give away even one of the secrets he had learned in Kamar-Taj. He had sworn it.
Holman took his hesitation for a no, because he nodded to the man holding the hammer.
“Wait!” Stephen held up his hands, showing surrender, hating how they were trembling “Okay. I’ll teach you. Let him go.”
“Stark stays here with us,” Holman replied. “He’s leverage until I am satisfied. Understood?”
“Perfectly. Although, it would be productive to know what you required this magic for."
Holman ignored the request. "Collect your thoughts, Strange. We begin in the morning.”
The moment the men were out of the room, locking the door behind them, Tony spoke. “What the actual fuck?”
Stephen started to examine the markings on the floor, looking for a weakness.
“Hello!” Tony called over to him. “Sparkles? I’m talking to you. Are you even real?” He jangled his chains, clanking them against the wall as he yelled at the closed door. “What the fuck did you give me? Because hallucinogens are fine in your twenties but nowadays—”
“Stark!” Stephen snapped at him. “Shut up.”
“Did a figment of my imagination just tell me to shut up? Actually, no, that sounds about right. Wizards are a new one though. Is this one of those dreams that have a secret meaning? Like when your teeth fall out?”
“I assure you I am not part of your mind, Stark. I am very real, as is the fact that now we’re both trapped down here.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not my fault. Look, if you’re real…fuck it, there’s nothing else to do while I wait for Rhodey to get his shit together and realize I’m not back at the Compound. Let’s say you’re definitely real. If you came waltzing in here without a plan, and now you can’t get back out, that’s on you.”
Stephen took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “You always do this,” he griped, finishing his inspection of the trap. Nothing—not one weak point he could exploit.
“I’m sorry? What do you mean always?”
“Every time I rescue you you’re such an ass about it. Can’t you just swallow that ego of yours for five seconds and say thank you?”
“Every time…what do you mean every time?”
Stephen sighed, pulling himself into a meditation stance. If he could still his mind, he could focus enough to think of a way to get them both out before Holman came back.
“Hey, Gandalf. Hello? We were having a conversation!”
Stephen gave it up, both eyes shooting open.
“Welcome back. Nice of you to join me again. You were saying something about every time you rescue me? I don’t get rescued. I escape.”
“No, you get rescued. By me,” Stephen snapped at him. “You just don’t remember. But I do. And every time—”
“No, no. I’m doing the talking now. I’ve never seen you before in my life. I’d remember. It’s not a forgettable look you have going there. The cape is a bold move.”
“It’s a cloak.”
“It is moving?”
“I told you, you don’t remember. I wipe your mind after.”
“You do what?”
“It’s necessary.”
“It’s—whatever. If you’re so good at this rescuing thing, rescue us then.”
“I’m trying.”
“By taking a nap?”
“By meditating!”
Tony let out a snort as he leaned back against the wall. “Great. Yes. Nothing says escape plan like sitting still and thinking about nothing.”
“That’s not what mediation is. But you said you had people coming?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “They better be. And sure, you can come too, if you’re a good boy and don’t freak out the Avengers. Okay?”
Stephen sighed, settling for getting as comfortable as he could in the circle.
Tony saw. “So just checking,” he continued. “Your daring escape plan is to wait for the people who would have come for me anyway and hope you can tag along?”
“I can’t believe you save the universe,” Stephen grumbled, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.
“I what? I mean, I can believe that, but how would you know?”
“Because I do. I don’t know how. I just know it happens. Unless you die before then, which I can’t allow, and you make preventing very difficult.”
“I’m doing fine on my own, thanks.”
“No, I just make you forget so you think you’re doing fine.”
“I’m sorry—why am I here again? Because I did get a little suspicious when there weren’t any demands for money or weapons or anything on the usual ‘kidnap-Tony-Stark’ checklist. What was it Dr. Evil said? So you could teach him how to wave a wand?”
Stephen winced, taking in Tony’s various cuts and bruises. “I’m sorry,” he said, and Tony blinked at him, the sincerity in Stephen’s voice taking him off guard. “I didn’t know…I didn’t foresee this.”
“You can foresee that I’ll save the universe but not when I’ll get kidnapped as leverage by some C-class villains?”
Stephen gave a wry smile. “Looking into the future is not a simple practice. It is—”
“Yeah, I’m going to stop you there. You didn’t look into the future. That’s not a thing. Although the sparkles thing did intrigue me. How did you do that?”
Stephen’s annoyance returned in full force. “We protect the secrets of magic for a reason, Stark. We do not teach them to those not worthy—and I certainly wouldn’t teach them to you.”
“I don’t need fairytales. I have the real thing.”
“Your armor? I don’t see it.”
Tony rolled his eyes at him again. “Well, I have War Machine’s armor. Not on me, of course, but any second now, he’s going to come bursting in. Any second. Any moment now. In five…four…three…Okay now. Okay, five…four…three…”
Stephen let out a long sigh of resignation as he tried to block out Tony’s voice. It was going to be a long night.