Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Breathe.

The word echoed in his mind and Tony struggled to obey, taking in a sharp, gasping breath. His lungs ached in a way that was familiar in its discomfort.

It’s all right. Breathe.

It took several minutes for his breathing to return to normal, the voice in his head murmuring steadily the whole time.

“Who the hell are you?”

The voice didn’t answer.

“Why are you in my head?”

I’m fairly certain that we’re in each other’s heads. And I’ll have you know that you’re being incredibly distracting, if you could do something to… tone down your thoughts.

Tony stared at the bathroom stall door in front of him, taking a moment for the words to make sense to him. “I’m sorry my panic attack is inconveniencing you,” he muttered under his breath.

Yes, I’d appreciate it if you could stop.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “What the hell is happening? Why aren’t I freaking out about this? Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”

I am currently researching to determine what, exactly, is going on. As for why I’m not ‘freaking out—‘ Tony swore he heard the man finger quote the words—I’ve had weirder things happen. And I’m currently researching how to make it stop. I expect that this will be over soon.

Right. Well, that’d be great.

Yes, I thought as much.

So he’d thought that bit loudly, then. How much of his thoughts was this interloper getting? How the hell was Tony supposed to stop it?

I’m taking care of it.

“I don’t make it a habit of letting other people handle things for me.”

And you have no clue what is happening, whereas I do.

Point. Tony didn’t like it, but it was a point. He forced himself to his feet, leaving the bathroom stall he’d embarrassingly had to hide in. Thankfully the bathroom was empty and no one had heard either the panic attack or him talking to himself.

He hadn’t had a panic attack like that in ages, but the gala’s evening entertainment had included a night show, a very hyperrealistic night show. For a moment Tony had been back in New York, trapped on the other side of the portal with the Chitauri bearing down on him and a nuke on his back.

Tony was just grateful that he’d been able to get out of the room before anyone had noticed.

Except now there was someone in his head. How long had someone been in his head? How had Tony not noticed? How was he going to make sure that whoever it was was really gone?

Calm down. You’re anxiety is making it very difficult to work. It’s only been a few hours. You didn’t notice because I practice mental shielding. Though it only protects you from my thoughts, and not me from yours. I assure you, as soon as I can get you out of my head, you will be. I have no desire to have your thoughts constantly running through my mind. You’re a very loud thinker, you know. 

Tony ran another hand over his face. So you hear everything? He tried to make the words pointed in the direction of the voice.

I doubt that. Even my brain would struggle under the sheer weight of your thoughts. I believe I’m getting the forefront of your thoughts, and even that is… extensive. And you know, if you hate galas as much as you seem to, you don’t need to go to them. I think you had something positive to think of perhaps five of the dozens of people you were with. Just don’t go.

Tony snorted. “Tell that to Pepper,” he muttered. “I almost feel bad for you, being here first hand sucks, being here second hand can’t be much better.”

It has been somewhat irritating, yes. But nothing I haven’t experienced before, if perhaps not quite to the extent that you’ve faced. There was a moment’s hesitation. I’m surprised you’re not freaking out more than you are about this, the voice said, a not-so-subtle question hidden in the words.

Tony paused at that, because he really, really should be, but all he had was a low-burning anxiety, that frankly, wasn’t particularly unusual. I hate magic.

He thought he felt a twist of offense run through his mind. You don’t know magic. If you knew it, you wouldn’t hate it.

I knew Loki, Tony snapped back. And I know Maximoff. I’ve had one try to get in my head and the other one succeed. So no, I know magic and I still hate it.

The man didn’t respond and Tony considered the conversation finished. He pushed back into the gala, sending a charming grin in the direction of the closest party-goers.

But his thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. Someone was in his mind—or he was in theirs? they were in each others?—and he wasn’t freaking out about it.

He shifted through the crowds, making his way to Pepper. He sidled up to her smiling and nodding at the investors she was talking to, waiting impatiently for them to leave.

“Don’t tell me—“

“I’ve got to go.”

Pepper breathed in sharply, closing her eyes for a moment as though that would hide her impatience.

“Pep, there’s mag—“ His throat closed on him. He placed a hand to his throat. “What the hell?” he whispered. The words came out easily, but when he opened his mouth again, he could feel his throat closing on him.

What the hell, he sent, hoping the words came out as sharply as he wanted to say them. Why can’t I say anything about this?

Can you not? The voice asked. That’s good to know, it’ll help me narrow down what’s happening.

Tony clenched his fist, turning back to Pepper. “I’m sorry,” he said. “All I can say is that there’s something wrong.”

“There’s always something wrong,” Pepper snapped quietly. She shook her head. “Fine, whatever. Do what you need to do.”

Tony winced. “I’ll make it up to you, Pepper.”

She sighed, and for a moment her face softened, forgiveness already seeping through. “You always do.” Going unsaid was her wish that he would stop doing things that needed to be made up for. 

Mr. Magic Man in his head said he was ‘taking care’ of things. But Tony wasn’t about to just step back and do nothing because some stranger in his head told him to.

Happy wasn’t surprised that they were leaving early, and maybe Tony did bow out of these more often than he should. But he had spoken to all of the important people; he’d done what he was supposed to do.

The ride home was full of not being anxious when he should have been.

“FRIDAY.” He stepped into the lab. “Run some scans on me.”

“Is there anything in particular I am looking for, Boss?”

Tony shrugged. “Anything unusual. You’ve got baseline scans to compare to, so we’re just looking to see if there’s anything new.”

He waited impatiently, pacing through the workshop, trying to clear his mind of thoughts all while knowing that there was no way it was actually working.

Sweet Science, he really hated magic. Could it please just stay out of his mind, it was—

“Hey, FRI, where’s Vision?”

“Vision is in the kitchen, attempting to cook.”

Oh good, he wasn’t off with Maximoff right now while Tony pretended he had no clue where he was.

One day he was pretty sure that Vision was going to take off and not come back, but it hadn’t happened yet. It was only a matter of time, though.

“Ask him if I can see him for a moment.” Vision carried the mind stone, and there was a chance that he’d be able to break—

I wouldn’t do that if I were you, the voice interrupted.

“Why not?” Tony asked, hoping the entirety of his aggravation made it through.

Has Vision ever actually been trained to use the mind stone for something like this? Do you really want to risk both of our minds. He could very easily make it worse. Or permanent.

Tony flinched. “You don’t know that will happen.”

“Boss?” FRIDAY’s voice was concerned. “Who are you talking to?”

You don’t know that it won’t, the voice countered.

Tony hesitated, but then chose to ignore the voice for now, focusing on FRIDAY. “Right, sorry FRI, that’s probably alarming. There’s some—“ His throat closed again. Tony clenched his fists. “I can’t actually tell you what’s wrong. But I promise I’m fine. Did those scans come back with anything?”

FRIDAY didn’t answer immediately, her skepticism clear. “There is some sort of interference. Is it possible that you’re wearing something that might interfere with the scans?”

Tony frowned. He suspected it was the magic, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure that it wasn’t as easy as some sort of… what, a talisman? That sounded magical.

He shucked off his jacket and took off the vest beneath it. His pockets were empty except for his wallet and wallet-sized toolset, but he tossed those onto the table too, before toeing off his shoes.

He stepped away from the table. “Still getting that interference, FRI?”

“Yes, Boss. It seems to be centered around your head. Boss, are you sure you’re fine?”

Tony didn’t have a good response to that. FRIDAY was already terrified of losing him, and Tony didn’t want to make that any worse. “Yeah, FRI,” he said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. “I’m going to be okay.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re fine now, Boss.”

His kid was too smart for him.

The door to the lab opened and Tony turned as Vision floated in, Tony was too distracted to congratulate him on remembering to use the door instead of just phasing in. It was something they’d definitely had to work on. “You asked to see me, Mr. Stark?”

I told you no.

Tony very valiantly didn’t make a face at that. And I told you I don’t believe in letting other people fix things for me.

“Hey Viz,” Tony said, grinning at Vision, even if the emotion felt forced. The voice in his head’s warning about possibly making this worse echoed. “FRI was just saying that there’s some interference around my head stopping her from taking her normal scans of me. I was just wondering if you sensed anything.” He raised his hand. “I’m not asking you to do anything about it, I just want to know if you sense anything.”

Vision tilted his head, floating closer. “There does appear to be something there.” He frowned. “Are you sure you do not wish for me to remove whatever it is? It does not appear to belong there.”

Don’t. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Tony clenched his jaw. And how do I know that you do?

I am a Master in the Mystic Arts, one who has actually put in the effort to study and learn magic, not some android who had a rock stuck in my head and uses it to shoot lasers and phase through walls.

There was some real aggravation there, Tony noted. The problem was that, beside his dismissal of Vision’s android status—which, rude—he wasn’t exactly wrong. Vision hadn’t really practiced any of the mind elements of the mind stone. “No, Viz. Not quite yet, but I might take you up on that.”

I’m giving you a day, he told the voice. And then I’m doing it my way.

“Are you sure, Mr. Stark?” Vision sounded genuinely worried. “I do not believe this… thing is healthy for you. I fear that there is a possibility that it is compromising you. A parasite that has convinced you that it is not a parasite so to speak.”

Even past whatever it was that was keeping him from being too anxious, horror permeated.

By the Vishanti, the voice hissed. That’s not how this works. Don’t do anything rash.

“Do you think you can safely remove it?” he asked, and his voice didn’t tremble, but he could feel the discomfort heavy in his throat. Because Vision had a point. Under normal circumstances there was no way he’d allow some voice in his head convince him to not do anything it would take to get it out of his head.

Don’t do it.

“I believe so, Mr. Stark.” Vision floated closer. “It should be simple to… unhook it, from your mind.”

Vision reached out towards him and Tony felt a moment of fear. What if the voice was right and this made things worse?

But what if the voice was only saying that so it had enough time to hook itself in permanently? He didn’t even know who the voice belonged to. If it even belonged to anyone and wasn’t merely a representation of malevolent magic.

He didn’t know what was or wasn’t possible.

Should have just let you have your panic attack, the voice seemed to mutter. Then you wouldn’t even know I was here and I could have fixed this without your interference.

“You aren’t helping!” Tony said aloud, frustrated. He turned to Vision. “Do it.” Vision stepped closer, hand coming up toward his head.

By the—

There was a strange humming sound coming from the side and Tony turned to see a circle of gold flames expanding into a larger circle and then a man was stepping through, a dark glare on his face. Tony had his watch turned into a gauntlet and up in seconds, pointed at the man. “I told you not to do it,” the man snapped.

The flames—and god, that was a portal, because of course it was; could today get any worse?—were shrinking down behind the man until they disappeared leaving the man there, glaring at Tony as though this were somehow his fault.

“Well excuse me if I decided not to listen to the voice in my head,” Tony snapped, taking in the man. He was dressed in a bizarre outfit, a blue tunic-like thing with what looked like a dozen belts, dark pants, and an honest-to-goodness red cape.

“Boss?” FRIDAY’s tone was concerned. “There appears to be a man in the room, he is affecting my scanners, Boss. I’m not—” Fear permeated her voice. “Boss?” And then she cut off.

Tony took a step forward, priming the gauntlet, rage and terror filling him. “What are you doing to FRIDAY?” He wasn’t going to lose FRIDAY, not the way he’d lost JARVIS.

The man took a startled step back, one hand coming to his head as he winced. “It’s a passive spell meant to keep surveillance from noticing me,” the man said, and Tony got the sense that normally he wouldn’t get that much of an answer. “It’s not intended to hurt anyone. But apparently the spell doesn’t take into account Artificial Intelligence.”

“Take it off.”

The man glared at him. “I take it off and you put down the gauntlet.”

Tony hesitated but nodded. 

“And your android there steps down.”

Tony glanced at Vision to see that the mind stone in his head was glowing just slightly and that he was clearly prepared to attack. A strange thing to see from Vision who was normally quite peaceful.

“Viz, stand down for now.”

Vision hesitated. “This man is in your head. The last time someone was in your head, JARVIS was killed and I was born.”

JARVIS. Familiar grief tugged at him, and the man gave him a searching look.

Tony didn’t comment on the fact that Vision clearly didn’t care about that all that much if the relationship he’d developed with the person who’d gotten into his head was any indication. “And he’s going to get out of it,” Tony said, hoping he actually sounded like he meant it.

Vision hesitated, but the glow of the mind stone slowly faded until Vision was standing there, still alert, but not primed to attack.

“As soon as physically possible,” the man muttered.

The man lifted his hands, making a few brief gestures. Orange pooled in his hands before the color dispersed. 

“Boss?”

Tony slumped in relief, and he dropped the gauntlet to his side. “FRI baby,” he murmured. “Good to have you back.”

“There is a man in the room, Boss. He appears to have the same interference around his head as you do.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, looking up at the cameras. “He would. Good job, FRI.”

“I… apologize,” the man said, sounding a little aggrieved at having to apologize, but otherwise somewhere close to sincere. “I did not intend to affect your AI.”

Tony was not inclined to granting forgiveness to people who hurt his kids, even accidentally, but he forced himself to nod. “Just… don’t do that again.” Don’t make him think he was losing another one of his kids. He couldn’t… He closed his eyes, forcing himself to not panic as he remembered the fear in FRIDAY’s voice as she’d temporarily gone offline.

Breathe.

He forced himself to follow the instruction, absently noting that when in his head there was a softness to the man’s voice that was absent from when he actually spoke.

“I can think of no reason that this would happen again,” the man said.

“Right. You obviously know who I am. Who the hell are you? How the hell did you get in my head? And how the hell do I get you out of it?”

“My name is Doctor Strange.” The name sounded vaguely familiar, though Tony couldn’t place it. Not that he could think of a reason he would know a wizard. “I have yet to determine how this happened, but I suspect now that I have physical access to you that it will be easier to determine what has happened. And as for how you get me out of your head, you do nothing, and let me do my job.”

Tony clenched his fist, glaring at Strange. “I don’t do ‘nothing’ very well,” he said.

Strange eyed him. “Yes, I rather put that together for myself.” He crossed his arms, considering him. “What are the chances that if I leave you here you’ll do something inadvisable?”

“Define inadvisable?”

He wondered if BARF might be able to be adapted to get rid of whatever the interference was, or if not get rid of, at least help him get a better visual representation of it. He started running through possible calculations for alterations to the device that would potentially work.

Strange sighed. “By the Vishanti, you’re impossible. I should never have let you know I was here.” He shook his head. “Will you be satisfied by the ability to research the situation?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. That sounded a lot like Strange wanted to distract him with busy work because he didn’t trust Tony.

“I don’t,” Strange said. “You’re rash and have no real understanding of what’s going on here.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Please, go on and tell me that you wouldn’t be a little rash if this were happening to you when your only experience with ‘magic’ involved people who wanted you dead and had no compunctions with messing with your head.”

Strange paused, but then nodded. “I am willing to cede that your past circumstances have not primed you to handle this particularly well.”

Tony thought he was handling this extremely well given everything. He hadn’t repulsored Strange the moment he’d stepped into his lab after all, despite having more than enough provocation. That had to count for something.

Strange sent him a withering look. “I’m not the one who was about to participate in a poorly thought out experiment by an incompetent that could have made everything so much worse.”

“I am capable,” Vision said, not quite sounding defensive, but clearly displeased at being told that he was incompetent.

Strange didn’t quite sneer, but it was a close call. “You’ve no solid idea of how to use the mind stone with any sort of delicacy. Forgive me if I’m not inclined to letting you perform what is essentially brain surgery on me.”

Tony’s brain jerked to attention. Brain surgery. That was it. “Stephen Strange.” He’d known the name sounded familiar. Brilliant neurosurgeon whose car had gone over a cliff and had disappeared shortly thereafter.

Strange startled, glancing at him. “Yes, that was me.”

Tony had one second to realize that his thoughts were about to go in a direction that Strange would not react well to and he yanked his latest theories on cold fusion to the forefront of his mind before he caused problems by risking anything that Strange might mistakenly take as ‘pity’ slipping through—it wasn’t pity, even if people would scoff at the idea of Tony experiencing anything like compassion.

Strange brought a hand to his head, grimacing. “Really? Can you not stay focused on the matter at hand? Or must you always think in scientific gibberish.”

“Sorry,” Tony said, not feeling particularly sorry. He was a little surprised that had worked. “What you see is what you get.”

“It didn’t work,” Strange told him. “Though I… appreciate the attempt.”

Tony really needed to learn how to do this ‘shielding’ that Strange did, because eventually this was going to turn into an absolute disaster. Tony barely managed to watch his words, he had no experience watching his thoughts.

“Fine,” Strange agreed. “While I research I can give you beginner materials on mental shielding. Will that satisfy your need to be doing something? Not that it will be necessary. I have no doubt that I’ll be able to figure out what’s wrong before you can manage to actually guard your thoughts.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. Rude. He was a fast learner.

“You think too much,” Strange told him. “And with no rhyme or reason. Mental shielding requires mental discipline.”

Tony had plenty of mental discipline, just because he had twelve different trains of thoughts going at one time didn’t mean he didn’t. But Strange’s tendency to respond to Tony’s thoughts instead of waiting for Tony to actually talk was starting to get very annoying.

Strange just smirked at him.

Tony absently noted that it was annoyingly attractive on his face.

Strange startled and Tony closed his eyes and pulled his theories on cold fusion back to the front of his mind, because like hell was he going to think about Strange being attractive. It wasn’t Tony’s fault that he had a good eye for the aesthetically appealing.

“Yes, well. I suppose it’d be for the best if you came with me, then,” Strange said, clearly deciding not to address that last thought.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Just like that?”

“Unless you have better ideas on how to go about doing this?”

Tony didn’t, not that he was particularly fond of admitting that, even in his head—especially in his head at the moment, given Strange’s presence there. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

“Boss?” FRIDAY sounded nervous. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark, are you quite certain that this is a wise course of action?” Vision asked, moving closer. “You do not know this man or his goals.”

Tony hesitated, trying to decide if the trust he was giving Strange was within his normal behavioral patterns or if he was being influenced. Caution had never really been his strong suit, so that didn’t particularly help him figure out if this would be normal for him or not.

“I have no intention of harming you,” Strange said. “All I want is to get you out of my head and continue on our separate paths.”

“What else does this thing do?” Tony asked. “It won’t let me talk about it—“ although it was allowing him to talk to Strange about it, so that was something. “I’m not panicking about it the way I should be.” Though he’d had a few reactions, but those had been brought on by outside influences. “It’s got my thoughts running through your head.”

“I don’t know,” Strange admitted. “I need to find the source and then I will have a better idea of it’s capabilities.”

Because that was comforting.

“I’m not trying to be comforting. I’m being realistic.”

Okay, that was getting irritating. “Will you stop that?” Tony asked, annoyance flaring. “I’m perfectly capable of verbalizing the things I actually want you to respond to.”

Strange smirked again. “Well then, that just gives you more of a reason to come with me and learn mental shielding, doesn’t it?”

Was Strange always this aggravating?

“Yes.”

Tony pulled his thoughts on cold fusion back to the forefront of his mind and did his best to think about them as loudly as possible.

Strange made a face of displeasure and Tony considered that a win. Tony could be aggravating, too.

“Trust me, that was never in question,” Strange muttered. “Now I don’t trust you to not do something inadvisable the moment I leave, so I would far prefer that you come with me.”

“I would far prefer that this not be happening,” Tony said under his breath. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and eyeing Strange carefully, weighing the situation. On one hand, trusting the weird wizard in his head sounded like a really bad idea; Tony far preferred trusting himself and his own abilities. At the same time, this was also so far out of his wheelhouse that Tony wouldn’t have any idea where to start and going with Strange would likely give him answers faster than doing this on his own.

Strange just watched him, clearly hearing Tony’s running analysis but not interrupting as Tony tried to make a decision.

“Fine.” This was absolutely idiotic and Tony really didn’t want to be doing this. But it was what it was and Tony only sometimes railed against things he had no control over. “I’ll come with you.”

“Boss—“

“Mr. Stark—“

Tony shook his head, cutting both of them off. “Strange’s not going to do anything to me.” Probably. “And he’s more likely to have the answers I need than I will.” As much as it grated on him to admit such a thing. 

He really hated magic.

Strange bristled a little bit, but didn’t respond to the thought. “Good. Glad you can be reasonable,” Strange told him. “Now—“ he lifted his hands and spun one in a circle, a circle of flame appearing in front of him and expanding into a portal. “—if we could get going.”

Fear twisted in his chest. Goddamn portals.

Strange sighed. “And what’s the problem with portals?”

“I don’t know, maybe the last time I went through a portal I died?” Tony asked, only a little sarcastic. “That might have had the smallest effect on my feelings for them.”

Strange pursed his lips, then sighed. “All right, I acknowledge that that is not a particularly pleasant first interaction with portals.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, thank you for acknowledging that. I really needed that. I feel validated in my own experiences now. Perfect. Now I have no problem with portals.”

“Your sarcasm isn’t needed,” Strange said. 

Tony took a deep breath, feeling it settle in his chest. He was not going to be beaten by some damn portal. He was Tony fucking Stark. He moved closer, focusing on the room he could see beyond the portal with bookshelves towering high above him with books littered all over a table. No space. No stars. No Chitauri. Completely safe and Tony’s fear was completely irrational.

Breathe.

Tony obeyed instinctively. He refused to give into something as ridiculous as his own irrationalities.

“Mr. Stark, perhaps it would be wise if I accompanied you,” Vision said, interrupting Tony’s inner pep talk. “So you are not alone with this… Doctor Strange.”

Strange looked annoyed again. “If that will move this whole thing along. We’ve already wasted valuable time as it is.”

Tony sighed, shrugging. “If it will make you feel better, Viz.” He didn’t want to admit that it warmed something in him. He knew that, when it came down to it, Vision would cast him aside. But at least there was some part of Vision that cared for him. He would never be JARVIS, would never truly care for him. But… but there was at least something.

Vision nodded seriously. “It would.”

Right. Time to go. He didn’t let himself think about it any further, taking a deep breath and stepping through the portal.

Nothing happened.

Not that Tony had really thought that anything would happen. But still, it was nice to see he’d been right about that.

He heard Strange step through behind him.

He turned in time to see the portal closing behind them as Vision floated through. He blinked, startled as Strange’s cape thing suddenly moved, lifting off of Strange’s shoulders and floating there for a moment before moving towards Tony.

The cape tilted its lapels as though examining Tony.

“They’re a cloak.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but noticed the pronoun usage as well as the correction.

Huh. The cloak floated around him, poking him a few times, obviously judging him. Tony allowed it as good-naturedly as he allowed anything. He was in the cloak’s domain after all.

Strange was watching him. “Really, this doesn’t freak you out but portals do?”

Tony shrugged. So what, there was a sentient cloak. Was he supposed to find that weird?

“Yes, actually. But I’m not going to complain.”

Tony glanced around the room, taking in the row upon row of bookshelves, a few tables dotting the rows sporadically. 

“Where are we?” he asked.

“The Sanctum Sanctorum.”

Because that was so helpful. “And that is… where?”

“Greenwich Village.”

At least he was still in New York. That was something. “All right. I need you out of my head as soon as possible, or me out of your head, or both of us out of each other’s head, which ever of those is actually correct. What do we need to do to make that happen?”

“I’m going to research, you’re going to read about mental shielding and try to learn how to keep your thoughts to yourself.”

Tony glared at him. “And if I want to research?”

Strange crossed his arms. “Do you read Sanskrit?”

No. “I could learn,” he said, knowing that his tone was a little mulish but unable to stop it. Nothing grated on him more than someone telling him he was incapable of doing something.

Strange rolled his eyes. “I believe you. But time would be better spent with you trying to guard your thoughts so I can properly concentrate.”

“I can assist in the research,” Vision said, drawing both Tony’s and Strange’s attention to him. “I believe I am capable of reading Sanskrit.”

Strange was giving Vision one of his slightly disdainful looks. What did Strange have against androids anyways? He could handle a sentient cloak; he should have no problems with androids.

It’s not that he’s an android. It’s that he’s essentially an overpowered child who shows no responsibility for the power he carries.

Tony blinked, glancing between Strange and Vision for a moment. You know what. Not getting involved in that, because there was just a chance that Strange had a point.

I always have a point.

Tony wasn’t going to respond to that.

Strange flicked his hands and suddenly several books shot off the shelf and placed themselves at an empty table. “Those are for you,” he told Tony. “Now I’m going to get back to the research I was doing before you interrupted me with your poor choices.”

“I’m sorry that I decided not to listen to the voice in my head,” Tony snarked. “Because that’s so irresponsible of me.”

“When the voice in your head knows more than you do, it is.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but moved to the table that Strange had set apart for him and glanced through the books that were on the table. The Art of Mental Discipline, Mental Shielding for the Novice, and Protection of Mind and Soul stared back at him.

Oh, this was going to be so much fun, he could feel it. He sighed and got to work.

Chapter Text

He could hear Strange bossing Vision around but didn’t listen as he sat himself down and opened all three books that Strange had given him, skimming through their introductions quickly. He grimaced at the constant references to calming his mind and meditation. Oh yeah, this was going to suck.

Still, Tony refused to let Strange have the satisfaction of Tony being incapable of shielding his thoughts. He’d learn this out of sheer spite if he had to.

He heard Strange snort from his own table.

Tony spitefully thought loudly about cold fusion again.

“I am trying to read. Will you stop that?”

Tony let the thoughts go, turning back to his own reading.

He continued flipping through the books, switching from one to the other as was his normal habit, letting one thought settle itself while he moved onto another one in a constant pattern of integrating new knowledge while gaining more.

“Stephen,” a voice interrupted, sounding slightly peeved. “Why are there people in the library?” 

Tony looked up to see a man at the library door, watching him and Vision suspiciously. He was dressed much like Strange was, though in golds and browns instead of the blue that Strange wore and noticeably missing a cloak of his own, which brought to mind the question if there were a host of sentient cloaks or if the cloak Tony had met was special.

Strange looked up from his book. “Stark’s in my—“ he coughed, a hand coming to his throat as he grimaced. “Right, I forgot we couldn’t talk about it. Come look at what I’m reading.”

The man eyed Tony suspiciously. “This is not my fault,” Tony defended, reading the expression easily. He had too much practice being blamed for things to not be aware of how that looked. “I’m blaming absolutely everything on Strange.”

Strange glanced at him and pointedly rolled his eyes.

The man moved toward Strange taking in the books he was reading quickly. “You’ve developed a spontaneous mental bond?” the man asked. “How long has this been going on?”

“A few hours,” Strange said. 

The man frowned. “And you didn’t tell me immediately?”

Tony smirked a little as Strange huffed. Strange sent him an annoyed glance. “I’ve been researching,” Strange defended as he turned back to his friend. “And I wouldn’t be able to tell you anyways, whatever this is, it’s stopping us from talking about it except with each other.”

“And you knew this at the time?” the man asked, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Or were you being an obstinate fool again who was trying to handle things on your own?”

Tony choked on a laugh. Oh god, this was perfect payback.

Strange glared at him. “Oh shut up, Stark. At least I didn’t try to have an inexperienced and incompetent android mess around with my head despite being warned not to.”

The expression on the man’s face as he looked at an offended-looking Vision was entirely unimpressed and he sent Tony a sharp look. “You almost what? That would have been extremely inadvisable.”

Tony narrowed his eyes, because really, this again? “I’m sorry. There was only a mysterious voice in my head telling me what to do. Of course the sensible thing to do would have been to listen to said voice.” His actions had all been completely sensible—rational even—and he wasn’t going to hear anything saying otherwise. 

Neither Strange nor the man seemed to appreciate his answer despite the fact that it was, as previously stated, absolutely a reasonable course of action.

“What have you determined so far?” the man asked, focusing back on Strange.

Strange paused. “Not much,” he admitted, clearly unhappy with the acknowledgment. “Nothing I’ve found quite fits yet. I was going to start running tests on the two of us soon.”

Tony jerked a little; fear coursed through him, breath catching in his throat. “Wait, what? I didn’t agree to that.”

“Do you want me out of your head or not?”

Fear battled against fear. He clenched his fist under the table, digging his nails into his palm. “I don’t exactly want you experimenting on me.”

Strange rolled his eyes. “I’m not suggesting that I experiment on you, I’m suggesting that we run safe, controlled tests on both of us to determine the nature of the mental link we’re currently stuck with in order to best determine how to break said connection.”

“Magic,” Tony said, revulsion in his voice that he couldn’t hide. “You want to use magic on me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with magic,” Strange defended. “Don’t be so close minded.”

“If magic would stop screwing me over maybe I wouldn’t hate it so much,” Tony snapped back, anger and grief and pain a volatile mixture inside of him. “Last time someone used magic on me I created a murder-bot that nearly destroyed the world and did kill my kid.” The grief of losing JARVIS was never going to go away. “So forgive me if I’m not eager to give a stranger the opportunity to do the same.”

Strange flinched back a little, surprise and pain flickering across his face. “I’m not Maximoff,” he said quietly.

Tony noticed Vision looking away, as uncomfortable as Tony had ever seen him be. Tony didn’t have it in him to feel guilty. Vision had made his choice to pursue Maximoff knowing exactly what she’d done. If he couldn’t handle hearing someone talk about it, that was his problem.

“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t actually know you now, do I?” He could be just as bad, worse even.

“Your reservations are understandable,” the still unnamed man said. “Regardless, if we want to remove this link as quickly and as safely as possible, tests may very well be necessary. And momentary discomfort is surely better than a permanent connection.”

“Wong is right,” Strange said. Tony noted the name. “I understand it is… not optimal. But I won’t do anything to you that I wouldn’t do to myself. I swear, I won’t hurt you.”

Tony clenched his jaw. “Fine.” He turned back to his books as pointedly as possible. “If research doesn’t turn up anything we can discuss any tests you want to run.”

He heard Strange mutter something under his breath but Tony was in no mood to be any less obstinate than he was being. He hated this. Hated the fear he couldn’t get rid of. Hated that someone was in his head. Hated that he was depending on someone else. Hated that he was essentially useless.

There were an awful lot of things to hate right now.

Breathe. A pause. It’s going to be all right. And… I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. But this may be necessary. I wouldn’t—I won’t—put you through it if it weren’t.

He forced himself to breathe, slow and deep, before nodding curtly, keeping his gaze focused on the books and hoping Strange got the message regardless. He focused on the pages in front of him. Because this was something he could do, and like hell was Tony going to fail at it.

He lost himself in his research until a hand on his shoulder made him jump. He jerked around to find Strange behind him, a slightly annoyed look on his face. 

“What?” Tony asked, automatically annoyed at the fact that Strange was annoyed with him.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes,” Strange said, undoubtedly exaggerating, mostly because Strange didn’t strike him as the sort of person who would allow himself to be ignored for that long. “You’ve been completely tuning me out.” That really was a Tony Stark specialty. “Wong and I haven’t found anything that matches quite right. We need to discuss running a few diagnostic spells.”

Tony grimaced, but Wong was right, some temporary discomfort was preferable to Strange being in his head. “All right.”

Strange still looked vaguely annoyed at Tony’s reluctance to just let Strange do whatever he wanted—though Tony thought that, just maybe, Strange was less annoyed at Tony and more at the people who had given Tony reason to distrust magic. Which meant that he could blame whatever had hooked them together, because whoever or whatever had caused this was only adding to Tony’s reasons for hating magic.

“We want to make it visible to start with,” Strange said. “Sometimes seeing the pattern within the magic can help us identify it better.” He pulled out a book, putting it in front of Tony. Not that Tony could read it, but the pictures were pretty. Note to self: Learn Sanskrit. Abominable lack of foresight on his part. His past self should absolutely have known that Sanskrit would be useful in his future. Strange quickly summarized what the page said, finishing with a shrug. “This is a basic diagnostic, not even as invasive as an X-ray scan.”

Tony grimaced, but nodded. “Fine. What do I need to do?”

“Just sit there.” Strange took a seat opposite. “Wong will perform the spell, since it’s easier for a third party to perform the magic.”

Tony eyed Wong for a moment, trying to get some sort of measure of the man. But then, Tony had always had a tendency to trust the wrong people, so it wasn’t like that was going to help him much.

He is a good man.

Tony sent Strange a sharp look. Nice to know you think so, but I don’t even know what kind of man you are, yet.

Strange just met his eyes evenly and Tony found himself thinking back to the panic attack at the gala when Strange had revealed himself solely to help Tony calm down. That meant something, told Tony more about Strange than perhaps anything else that had happened told him.

It had been… selfless. Sure, he expected that Strange might claim it was because Tony had been ‘thinking loudly’, but Tony was going to call that bluff. It had been compassion, nothing more and nothing less.

Strange looked away, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

Tony considered him for one more long moment before he sighed and accepted the situation. He turned back to Wong and nodded his acquiescence to the whole thing.

Vision floated towards them, gaze shifting between Wong to him and Strange, looking faintly displeased at his own inability to do anything about the situation. Yeah, Tony empathized.

Wong wasted no time performing the spell and Tony felt a cool wind wash over him before four strings appeared connecting him and Strange at their right wrists, their hearts, their chests, and their heads. The ones at their wrists and chest were a pale blue, while the one at their heart was golden on each end, the gold seeming to inch towards the middle where they would meet, while the one at their head glowed a brilliant gold. Tony tilted his head side to side, watching as the golden tether moved with him.

Strange’s brow furrowed and his lips twisted into a frown. Tony did not like that as an initial reaction. “That’s far more intensive than I expected,” Strange said. “That’s—“ he eyed the links. “Four different connection points, even if only one of them is active so far.” He glared at Tony’s chest, or more likely at the tether that was both gold and blue. “Though the second one looks not far off from activating.”

Tony did not like the sound of that. He did not like the sound of that in the slightest.

“One of you did something you really shouldn’t have,” Wong said, eyeing Strange. “Have you touched anything you weren’t supposed to?”

Strange looked offended. “No!”

Wong looked like he wasn’t sure he believed Strange—which was really very telling, but Tony probably couldn’t talk—but Wong turned to look at Tony instead of pursuing the subject with Strange any further. “And you?”

“Uh…” He quickly ran through his past few days, but there really wasn’t much to think through. “I’ve spent the last three days locked up in my lab and I haven’t had any weird things brought in for me to examine. So I’m going to go with no.”

Wong hummed. “No wishing on stars? Blowing out birthday cake candles? Otherwise appealing to a higher force?”

Tony blinked at him. “Are you telling me that wishing on stars works? And birthday candles? Really???” Because that was a major paradigm shift that he wasn’t sure he even knew how to deal with. “And no. I was disabused of that notion when I was like… two.”

Strange gave him a look like he’d said something particularly strange.

Wong shrugged. “They do not work in the traditional sense, but when mixed with other factors they can have a surprisingly effective reaction.”

“Right.” Tony shook his head, deciding he really did not need to think about the chaos that could be wrought by people wishing on stars and birthday candles. Hopefully those other factors were not easy to put into play.

Wong looked at Strange, raising an eyebrow. “No,” Strange said. “I have not been making any inane wishes.”

Wong examined the both of them as though he expected to catch one of them in a lie. And one, if Tony was lying absolutely no one would be able to tell because he was a spectacular liar, and two, Tony wasn’t lying.

Strange sent him an annoyed look. “Really? You take pride in your ability to lie?”

Tony shrugged. “It’s a necessary skill. But I’m not lying right now, so that doesn’t matter.” He turned back to Wong. “So if none of us touched anything or made any weird wishes, how did this happen?”

“It means that someone did this to you. Though I can’t imagine what they’re seeking to get out of this.”

“So one of us ticked someone off,” Tony surmised. “Or both of us, I suppose.”

“It is not necessarily malevolent,” Stephen countered. “It could be a ‘blessing’.” 

Tony stared at him, because really? A blessing? Not a chance was this a blessing. He and Stephen were in each other’s heads and if they didn’t find a way to fix this then it would only get more and more intimate, which… no. He did not need all of him laid out for someone else to see and know. The thought was horrifying. He was far better off being unknown. He turned back to Wong. “So did this whole diagnostic spell give you a way to break this? Because that would be stellar.”

“No,” Wong and Strange said at the same time.

Of course not, because that would be easy. Tony’s life didn’t believe in being easy.

“So what did it tell you?”

Strange looked away while Wong examined him for a long moment as though trying to gauge what Tony’s reaction would be. Tony felt his heart sink, because that was a bad sign if there ever was one.

“It is not just a mental link,” Wong said finally. “The longer it goes before we can break this, the more closely the two of you will be entwined.”

“Entwined,” Tony repeated. “That sounds… not good.”

“It is not optimal,” Wong agreed in remarkable understatement, his face completely devoid of his thoughts. Tony wondered if he was naturally that understated or if that was something he’d practiced.

I caught him practicing in the mirror once, Strange told him, the tone completely neutral despite the note of humor that Tony caught beneath the words.

Tony coughed to hide the laugh that tried to escape him. Seriously?

Strange just smirked at him.

“May I ask what being ‘entwined’ might entail?” Vision asked, drawing Tony’s attention back to him. He had a concerned look on his face, and Tony made a note to thank him for asking the question that he’d been trying to avoid thinking about.

Denial really didn’t help anyone, but that had never stopped Tony before.

Wong pointed at the gold bond. “Mind.” He pointed at the one connected to their heart. “Heart.” The one at their chest. “Soul.” The one at their wrist. “Body.”

“I see,” Vision said, though Tony wasn’t sure that he actually did. “Am I to take it that those will play four distinct roles?”

Wong nodded. “Thoughts, emotions, physical sensations, and… well, it’s still heavily debated what part the soul plays in a person’s daily lives, but it is… likely to be rather intimate.”

Tony stared at Wong, horrified. “No. No. Not happening. We need to break this ASAP because I’m not going to have my… soul—“ and ugh, he did not want to have to acknowledge that souls might actually be a thing because that hurt his factually based life views, ”—spilling out onto Strange.”

Strange was frowning, staring at the tethers. “Will my mental shields be sufficient to block all of this?”

Wong looked almost apologetic. “I highly doubt it. I’m impressed their managing as well as they are so far. Whatever this is, it’s strong.”

Which meant that while Tony hadn’t been getting anything other than what Strange had purposefully been sharing through the bond, Tony was going to start actually getting Strange’s side of this equation which sounded… unpleasant. 

Though he supposed that Strange already felt that way. God knew Tony wouldn’t wish his mind on anyone else. He could acknowledge his own brilliance—Strange snorted and Tony rolled his eyes at him; it was true and Tony wasn’t ashamed to admit it—but his mind was one thing… his feelings, ugh, Tony tried to pretend those didn’t exist most of the time. Making Strange feel those just felt like he was putting Strange through some macabre form of purgatory.

Not that any of this was Tony’s fault. At least, he didn’t think it was his fault. Okay, so it might be his fault. It would not be the first time that he’d done something completely on accident that ruined people’s lives, this seemed exactly like the sort of thing that he would have unintentionally caused.

Strange sighed. “Why am I not surprised that you have a guilt complex?”

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Tony said stiffly.

Strange just gave him an unimpressed look.

“You are prone to taking on the burden of guilt for situations in which you are not at fault,” Vision said, which was completely unnecessary, really, and Tony was not impressed by his ‘defense’, if one could even call it that. He didn’t feel particularly defended, in fact he felt rather attacked.

Strange just shrugged. “If you find the truth to be an attack, then perhaps you should invest in some self-reflection. It does wonders.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Speaking from experience there, Strange?”

“Yes,” Wong answered before Strange could do so himself. “Stephen has needed a great deal of self-reflection to become a tolerable member of society. But that is not the matter at hand right now. Mental magics are dangerous and difficult, a single misstep could make this permanent or leave you brain dead. I won’t go so far as to say that it is beyond me, but it is certainly a task I would be hesitant to take on unless strictly necessary.” Well, that was very far from reassuring. This was also, however, very much necessary.

Tony glanced at Vision. “And we’re sure that we can’t just have Vision sever it?” He had the mind stone in his head, which had to count for something, right?

“NO!” Both Wong and Strange answered, with almost shocking vehemence. “I am not having an unpracticed beginner perform the equivalent brain surgery on me,” Strange continued, the words a repeat of his refusal back in Tony’s lab. “No matter what handy accessories he has on hand.”

Tony rolled his eyes, because obviously. Strange had made that clear at the very beginning. Tony had an excellent memory. “I know. But could you teach him what he needs to be able to do it safely? Would that be safer?”

Wong and Strange paused at that, sharing indecipherable looks with each other before they both looked at Vision thoughtfully.

Vision met their gazes easily enough, managing to look unperturbed by their examination of him. “I would be willing to learn.” Vision sent a hesitant look his way. “Though perhaps you may wish to bring in someone with more mental expertise—“

It was like being dunked in cold water and Tony suddenly couldn’t breathe at the very suggestion of letting her in his head. “No.” Tony knew exactly what Vision was implying and like hell would he ever let Maximoff near his mind again if he had any say in it. Never again. Not after… JARVIS.

Breathe.

“Absolutely not,” Strange agreed, as though he wasn’t repeating a quiet mantra to breathe in Tony’s head. “I won’t have her anywhere near my mind.”

Vision merely nodded his head in acquiescence. “Of course. I shall refrain from mentioning the possibility again.”

Tony didn’t respond to that, still practicing careful breathing techniques while trying to make it look like he wasn’t practicing careful breathing techniques. He was in control and he refused to show anything less than that. He wasn’t sure whether he was annoyed at or grateful for Strange.

Grateful for, of course. Even if it was only in Tony’s head, Strange still managed to sound supercilious, which really, that had to be a talent. You are undoubtedly getting the better end of this situation.

Tony hated to admit it, but that was probably true, especially since Strange had the shields that kept Tony from getting the full blast of Strange’s thoughts on top of his own. Though it sounded like that might not be lasting long if Wong’s estimation that the full strength of the spell—or whatever this thing was—would be too much for Strange’s shields to withstand.

And if that wasn’t an alarming thought, then Tony didn’t know what was.

“So, what’s the next step?” Tony asked, glancing at Strange. “Since apparently it’s not as easy as just breaking this… bond.”

“More research,” Strange said. “We need to research soul bonds, since this is an intense, full-strength soul bond, not a mind bond like I assumed.”

Research. Tony loved research. And that wasn’t even sarcastic; he genuinely loved research. Learning and understanding new things were up there in his favorite things to do.

“You’re not researching. You’re learning shielding,” Strange told him. “If anything, it’s even more important now, in the scenario where we can’t fix this immediately. It will get… somewhat overwhelming if we can’t limit this to some degree.”

Tony made a face. “Fine.”

At least Strange was no longer implying that Tony was incapable of shielding.

Strange smirked slightly, one eyebrow raising and a glint of humor in his eyes that Tony took as Strange trying to decide whether he was going to be the asshole who told Tony that he didn’t think he could shield purely because Tony had had the thought.

Tony pointedly grabbed one of the books and pulled it closer, narrowing his eyes at Strange and daring him to say something. Strange rather wisely decided to leave his words implied rather than stated out loud. Strange stood, moving back to his desk, placing back half his books while scouring the shelves for new ones, talking quietly with Wong who was helping him.

Vision floated closer, hesitating before resting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I apologize,” he said slowly. “I know that… I know that matters such as these are difficult for you. That perhaps I have not always treated the situation with the compassion that you deserve.”

Tony paused, not quite sure how to respond to that. He couldn’t claim that Vision choosing Maximoff over him hadn’t hurt, didn’t still hurt like a bruise that he couldn’t stop pressing against, but he had always understood that Vision’s choices were his own. “You’ve never owed me anything,” Tony said finally. “You’re your own person.” ‘You’re not JARVIS,’ was left unsaid but hanging between them. “It’s not your responsibility to tailor your actions based on my needs.”

Vision looked uncertain how to respond to that. “Still. I should not have suggested that you make yourself vulnerable to someone who has hurt you in the past. It was inconsiderate of me.”

It had been. But Tony knew that Vision trusted Maximoff. He didn’t understand it, not when Maximoff had hurt Vision the way she had, but he still knew it was true. “Thanks, Vision. I don’t hold it against you. I know you’re just trying to help.” He paused. “Thank you for coming with me into the wizard’s lair. I’m glad to have you here with me.” 

It’s not a lair. It’s a sanctum. And I’m not a wizard, I’m a sorcerer.

Tony rolled his eyes, glancing at Strange who was setting a pile of books on the desk. Wizard’s. Lair.

“Of course. I would not abandon you.”

Both him and Vision knew that it was only a matter of time before Vision did just that. Or perhaps Vision didn’t know, perhaps he did not see the inevitability of the course he’d chosen. For someone as powerful and ‘knowledgeable’ as Vision was, he was still young, and with that came a certain degree of naivety. “Thanks Vision.” He pulled a book closer. “I should probably figure out this whole ‘shielding’ thing. Strange doesn’t think that I can do it. I’ve got to prove him wrong.”

“Something you shall undoubtedly manage.” Vision sounded almost fond. “I would never bet against you,” Vision added before he floated away and took the book that Strange shoved in his direction.

Tony went back to his own books. He frowned as he got to a shielding exercise. Meditation. Ugh.

He glanced at Strange who was busy reading, lips pursed as though whatever he was reading wasn’t particularly helpful.

He wasn’t going to fail. He refused.

The chair was comfortable enough, but Tony still slid out of it, settling himself on the ground beneath the table. He got a weird look from Strange and Wong, but Tony just waved a hand at them in dismissal. Let him do his thing, who cared if it was ‘weird’. Weird was overrated anyways.

Anyways, it gave Tony the false feeling of being shielded from the rest of the room, which could only help when he was making himself vulnerable.

He crossed his legs and closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. It only took him a few minutes to decide that that was a fruitless effort. He pulled the book he’d brought with him closer and looked at the different sorts of meditations it had provided. Traditional meditation was clearly not going to work for him. He considered moving meditation, that felt… closer to what he was comfortable with. He wished he had something to tinker with, something to keep his hands busy.

He closed his eyes again and pretended that he was in his workshop working on the armor. He paused.

You’re not going to tell anyone about what you see in my mind, right?

A pause. Of course not.

Including SI or Iron Man ‘secrets’?

I probably wouldn’t understand most of it anyways, but even if I did, no. I won’t go giving your secrets away.

Tony considered that and then nodded to himself. He was going to have to believe Strange. He didn’t really have any other options at the moment. He closed his eyes again and pretended to be in the workshop starting on a new armor.

It was an easy process, one he’d been through dozens of times and as he mentally created the armor he let the rest of his mind soothe itself, focusing on the task at hand until he actually felt himself reach a state of ‘meditative calm’.

He stayed there for as long as he could manage before referring to the books again and their instruction to build shields around his mind while in that state.

That seemed simple enough, he was already working on ‘armor’, why not create an armor that would work for his mind?

He lost himself in the armor, picturing it as a mental shield rather than the physical one that he was more used to.

He didn’t know how long had passed before he opened his eyes to find the cloak right in front of him. “Shit.” He jerked back, head hitting the bottom of the table. “Ow.”

“Your fault for sitting under the table,” Strange told him. “You could have been normal and used the chair. Or you know, sat anywhere else.

“I could have,” Tony agreed, rubbing at his head and glaring at the cloak who was still watching him with what Tony was interpreting as curiosity. “But I didn’t want to. Everyone knows that sitting beneath tables is conducive to fewer thoughts.”

Strange scoffed. You’re an idiot.

Proudly.

“Did I have any success?” Tony asked as he crawled out from underneath the table and took his seat again. The cloak followed him, still watching him. Tony was used to being watched, however, and refused to let himself be bothered by the act. “Because it didn’t really feel all that successful.”

Strange made a so-so gesture with his hand. “You’re shielding didn’t really work. I’d consider a different visualization.”

Tony frowned. The armor had felt like the obvious choice. The point of shields were to protect him, nothing did that better than the armor. That and he could picture the armor perfectly. It had felt like the most intuitive option.

“What sort of visualization do you use?” Tony asked.

Strange glanced at him, gaze dark and almost indecipherable. The cloak fluttered away from Tony to wrap around Strange’s shoulders.

“Never mind.” Tony shook his head. “I don’t care.” It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he was intensely interested actually, but he could recognize something that someone didn’t want to talk about. They also, he remembered, weren’t alone, Wong and Vision both bent over their own books. Tony turned the conversation back to his own shields. “What’s wrong with the armor as a shield visualization?”

Strange tilted his head in thought. “I couldn’t tell you. But you’ll want to use something that makes you feel entirely safe.”

Tony stared at him. And Strange thought the armor wouldn’t work? What could possibly keep him safer than that?

Strange just shrugged. “I could be wrong.”

Wong snorted and Tony found his lip twitching up in amusement. Clearly Strange suggesting that he might be wrong was worth a reaction on its own.

“Any progress?” Tony asked. “Please tell me we’ve found something that’ll help us figure out how to break this thing.”

The look on Strange’s face was the only answer he needed. That was a no.

Tony groaned, leaning over to rest his head against the cool of the tabletop. He wanted this to be over as soon as possible, but that wasn’t going to happen if they couldn’t find the answer.

“I believe I may have found something,” Vision spoke up suddenly. “Or at least it seems to fit the current parameters. It does, however, have the unfortunate side effect of creating even more questions.”

Well, that was encouraging.

Still, as long as they could break this thing, than Tony could put up with having questions.

“You found something?” Strange sounded surprised.

Wong stood, moving towards Vision and looking over his shoulder. He frowned. Oh yes, so encouraging. Tony was definitely encouraged and not absolutely dreading getting more answers.

“Well, hit me with it,” Tony said, staring at Vision and Wong. “What did you find? And how much am I going to hate it?”

Chapter Text

“A what?” Tony asked, staring at Vision and Wong in horror. “Please repeat that.” He paused. “Actually, please don’t. Where’s the door? I need to escape the absolute madness that is this situation.”

He stood up, fully intent on moving to the door when he was pushed back into his seat. He glared at the perpetrator—of course the Cloak was plotting against him—but didn’t try to stand again. Because, as much as he hated to admit it, he probably did need to stay and get proper information.

“Avoidance will help no one,” Wong said, tone of voice making it clear he was unimpressed by his initial reaction.

Strange had yet to react at all, standing straight and stiff and staring at Vision and Wong, his expression impressively passive. “And can we tell who made this… wish?”

“That may be part of the problem,” Vision said slowly. “There is no one person. That is why the spell has taken so strongly. There was a minimum of four entangled wishes, or deals as this text calls them. Perhaps more.”

“Okay, so what do we even mean by ‘deals’. Are we talking about ‘trade my soul to the devil’ type of deals?” Because that sounded bad on multiple counts.

Wong hummed. “No, nothing quite so serious. Consider it more along the lines of ‘I promise I’ll do all my chores without being asked if I can have cake for dinner’. Which is why they equate closer to a wish than to a deal, but fall under both classifications. Obviously there were other factors involved for the wishes to actually catch hold, but those will be hard to determine unless we know exactly when and how the wishes were made.”

Well, that was a bizarrely specific deal-wish. Tony was now suspicious of what Wong ate for dinner.

And also, he wanted cake.

Focus.

“So…” Tony said slowly, ignoring Strange. “We’re saying that this is because someone, or multiple someones I guess, thought that Strange and I were, what, lonely?”

Vision and Wong exchanged glances. And really, that was kind of weird. Vision and Wong didn’t even know each other, but the way they were working together to keep the book away from him and Strange—clearly under the impression that the two of them would react poorly to whatever was inside that book—was actually fairly excellent teamwork.

“Something along those lines, yes,” Wong agreed. He looked just the slightest bit shifty. 

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Did you wish that Strange would be a little less lonely?”

Wong didn’t deny it instantly, instead seemingly considering his answer. “That is… not entirely incorrect,” he said finally.

“You what?” Strange asked, sounding baffled, his first real reaction since Vision and Wong had told them what was wrong. “Why would you do that? I’m not lonely?” The fact that the last bit sounded more like a question than a statement was probably a sign that Strange was, in fact, lonely. “What did you wish for anyways?”

Wong sighed. “I do not know if this is imp—“

“Oh, it’s important,” Tony interrupted before Wong could finish. “It’s obviously very important.”

Wong did not look pleased. Well, it was his own fault. He was the one who apparently made the wish. “That Stephen would not be so alone.”

Strange looked a mix of embarrassed and pleased.

“So this is your fault?” Tony asked. “You wished Strange wouldn’t be alone and now we’re, what, connected? Why me?”

“It is most likely two-fold. First, because someone on your side of the equation likely made a similar wish. Second, because the two of you must, to some degree, be compatible.”

Tony spluttered, because, seriously? “Nope. No way. No chance.”

Strange turned toward him, arms crossed over his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” It was clear that he was already offended.

Tony stared at him, because that should be obvious, even if Strange wasn’t getting a front row seat to Tony’s thoughts. An ugly emotion twisted inside of him. He didn’t exactly want to be the one to draw attention to the obvious reason why they’d never be compatible. But clearly someone had to. He pointed at Strange. “Doctor.” He pointed himself. “Merchant of Death.” He pointed at Strange. “Saves people’s lives.” He gestured to himself again, feeling sick inside. “Greatest Mass Murderer in America.”

He knew how most doctors felt about him. People like Yinsen, Wu, and Helen were exceptions, not rules. It had lessened in the years since, but he knew that, deep down, people like Strange and Wong were never going to like someone like him.

Wong and Strange both stared at him as though he’d grown a second head. It made Tony feel distinctly uncomfortable.

You believe that? Strange’s voice poked in his mind. Tony could almost feel his disbelief. Then retook stock of the feeling. Huh, he might have actually felt his disbelief. The heart bond was getting stronger.

That seemed… not good.

“Also,” Tony added, gesturing to Strange one last time, ignoring the ridiculous question. Of course he believed it, it was true. “Magic man.” He pointed to himself. “Magic hater.”

Strange narrowed his eyes, distracted. “I told you, if you knew magic, you wouldn’t hate it.”

“And I told you I do know magic. I know Loki. I know Maximoff—“ Vision looked away again. ”—I still hate it.”

There was a grim expression on Strange’s face that practically echoed ‘I’m going to prove you wrong’. Tony snorted. Let him try. Tony was stubborn and unshakeable. And magic was not endearing itself to him by giving him a telepathic soul bond thing. Not cool.

“So who else is guilty of making mine and Strange’s lives difficult?” Tony asked.

Vision shook his head. Not that that surprised Tony. Vision was both a being of logic and not overly concerned with Tony’s well-being. At least not that way.

Tony was still surprised that Vision had been concerned enough to follow Tony here to the haunted house.

Sanctum, Strange corrected him.

Tony rolled his eyes. Haunted sanctum, then.

There was a rustle of noise and then the cloak lifted one corner in a sheepish gesture.

Strange spluttered. “What? Why would you do that?”

The cloak brushed against Strange’s cheek in a caress that made Tony smile a little despite himself. It was… well, it was adorable.

Strange sent him an irritated look, accompanied by a flash of aggravation. Clearly he didn’t like being called adorable.

“And there was likely a few wishes made on your side as well,” Wong added. “Otherwise, it’s unlikely the magic would have chosen you, specifically.”

Tony really doubted it. There was no one out there that would wish for him of all people to be… what, less lonely? Not that he was lonely anyways. No. He grabbed his phone, pulling up his ‘friends, family, and assorted important others’ group message. The only ones that had even the slightest possibility of having made a wish.

He snorted at the last picture, a Star Wars meme that Tony, Rhodey, and Peter had needed to explain to Pepper who still hadn’t watched the movies. Which just seemed patently sad to Tony, but Pepper would do what Pepper would do.

From: Tony Stark

All right. Who the hell made a wish about me recently?

He debated for a moment on adding more specifics, but that just felt too telling, and if no one had made a wish, he didn’t want to give away any details. No, best to leave it vague. He put the phone away just as a ping came through and he was forced to pull it back out.

FRIDAY:

Sorry, Boss. That was me. Is this my fault? 

FRIDAY? FRIDAY made a wish? He wasn’t surprised that his AI had the ability, but why the hell would she feel the need? Another ping.

Spiderling:

How did you know? Oh my word. Did it work? Are you happy now?

Tony felt a twist of… some emotion he didn’t want to name as he quickly inferred what Peter had wished. That Tony would be happy. Fuck. That was… Nope, not going to tear up. Not going to happen. Another ping.

Rhodey-Bear:

I mean, probably. I’ve known you for decades, Tones. I’ve made wishes for you before. Not recently though. What does FRIDAY mean ‘her fault’. What’s going on, Tones?

Pepper was the only one who didn’t respond, but then she was probably at the gala still. Or maybe not. He glanced at the time to see that it was late. Or early, depending on one’s point of view. She might be sleeping like the only responsible person around.

Tony stared at his phone.

“Okay, so this might be partially my fault,” he said as he put the phone away, not responding to any of the messages. “Or partially my…” He swallowed. “Or uh, my kids’ fault. Apparently both FRIDAY and Peter have been making wishes about me and, uh, me being happy.” Not that he was sure how being connected to Strange was supposed to make him happy.

“Well, that would make sense,” Wong agreed.

Tony wanted to yell that it didn’t. Not that anyone would wish for his happiness. And not that even though they apparently had, that some sort of magic had decided that Strange was the answer to his problem.

Not that he had a problem. He was already happy. As happy as he deserved to be, anyways.

“This seems inconsequential,” Stephen said, reaching for the book. “How do we break the spell? These things always have ways.”

Wong shifted the book away. “These wishes were made out of… well, love. You have to remember, that sometimes the simplest of magic is the most powerful.”

Tony eyed the book. Having the sense that he wasn’t going to like this in the slightest. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“You wouldn’t,” Wong agreed. “Because there is no simple way to break the spell other than to have the wishes that powered it be fulfilled.”

“And then it breaks.”

“Then it can be broken,” Wong corrected. “If the two of you still want it to be broken.”

Tony exchanged a look with Strange who looked just as skeptical about it all as Tony felt. And ah, some of that skepticism he felt wasn’t even his. So they were definitely on the same page.

Obviously they were still going to want it broken. What sort of suggestion even was that?

“We will,” Tony said dryly. “So I just have to be happy and Strange just needs to stop feeling lonely?” 

He was happy. He was.

So why did this feel so impossible?

“That is an… adequate recap.”

Tony had no good response for this. Other than the quiet ‘we’re screwed, we’re screwed, we’re screwed’ running through his head that he really didn’t want to say out loud.

We’re not screwed. There’s a counter spell there, Wong is just reluctant to give it a try.

Tony frowned. Why?

Strange sighed, a sound Tony could actually hear in his head. Because it’s a love spell. Tony felt a twist of revulsion and Strange was quick to continue. Not like in the media. It won’t make us feel anything for each other. Those aren’t spells, those are curses. But this spell was powered by love. Theirs for us. Breaking those is… frowned upon, at least when it’s as… relatively harmless as this one. Love really is, despite how cliche it sounds, one of the most powerful forces in the universe.

“So you’re saying you can not break this spell or will not?” Tony asked, eyeing the book and Wong again.

Wong sent Strange a sharp look, reading correctly that Strange had been the one to tell him. “It would be highly dangerous, not to mention discouraged, to try. The spell will run it’s course and then it can be broken in ways that will not cause harm.”

“What sort of harm?” Tony asked. “Like to us or to the universe?”

“To you.”

Tony glanced at Strange who met his gaze evenly. I’m willing to chance it.

Make that two of us.

Wong sighed when they both looked back at him. “I deeply disapprove, Stephen. This is dangerous.”

“Neither Stark nor I belong in each other’s heads,” Strange argued. “And the spell is going to prove that when it breaks easily.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“The worst that will happen is that the spell will accelerate,” Strange pointed out. “Painfully, yes, but it just hurries along the process.”

“And you want to put Stark through pain?” Wong asked.

Strange hesitated and Tony was reminded that this man had been a doctor. Of course he wouldn’t want to do that.

“Mr. Stark,” Vision started slowly. “I understand that this is not a comfortable situation for you. But perhaps you should simply… ride it out, so to speak. The spell has no nefarious intentions and is only constructed to help you. Mr. Parker’s and FRIDAY’s love for you powered this spell, they simply wish for you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

No one seemed to believe him.

“I’m not lonely,” Strange added.

The look Wong gave Strange was entirely misbelieving.

“I have you,” Strange defended. “And the cloak.”

“The two people who made wishes for you,” Wong pointed out. “I would think that says something.”

Okay, so Wong had a point. Not that Tony was going to say anything about that.

Too late, Strange pointed out. You don’t have shields yet, so I’m still hearing everything you think. But you’re both wrong. He doesn’t have a point.

Tony snorted. He so has a point. If the two people closest to you still feel like you’re lonely, then you’re lonely. Sometimes it’s not about the number of people around. Not even the quality. Since Wong and the cloak do seem pretty excellent quality. It’s an ache for something you don’t have but need.

Strange narrowed his eyes at him. You’re one to talk. You keep insisting that you’re happy. But clearly you’re not if the ones you call your kids don’t think so.

He was though. He was.

“Just… Let’s break this.” 

“I agree with Stark. It’s ridiculous for us to put up with this when there’s an easier alternative.”

Wong sighed. “And I can’t convince either of you that this is a bad idea?”

Tony shook his head while Strange crossed his arms stubbornly.

“Fine. Stephen, sit down opposite of Stark.”

Strange obeyed.

Wong examined the book for a long moment, lips moving as he mouthed the instructions under his breath. “All right,” he sad finally. “Tell me to stop at any point.”

Not happening.

Strange’s jaw was clenched in stubborn refusal.

Wong muttered something about idiots, but brought his hands up. It took a few moments, but soon the four bonds appeared, the heart bond almost completely golden now. Orange spiraled from Wong’s hands, attacking the bonds.

A moment later the bonds started vibrating. He grabbed his head as pain suddenly seized him, sharp and sudden, like a hot knife digging into his brain. A groan escaped him, as his chest was suddenly on fire, two pinpoints above his heart and in the middle of his chest.

God, his chest. He clawed at his chest, searching in vain for the hole he knew would be there, the battery, the arc reactor.

And then his wrist set on fire.

Horror overtook him, shocking him out of his panic, my hands, Vishanti, my hands. Not my hands. Not again. I can’t. Not my hands.

It took Tony a moment to realize the horror and the thoughts weren’t his.

“Stop,” he yelled. “Stop!”

He scrambled from his chair and around the table, the pain still radiating from him as Wong pulled the spell back in, orange fading from where it had been attacking the bonds.

There was more gold visible now then there’d been before, but Tony didn’t pay it any attention as he crouched in front of where Strange was curled over himself, hands cradled to his chest. Tony wasn’t sure what to do, still trying to breathe past his own pain. But Strange was spiraling.

My hands, my hands, my hands, over and over in a desperate litany.

“You’re okay, Strange,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

Strange didn’t seem to hear him. Breathe, Tony thought at him, breathing instinctively in the pattern he wanted Strange to follow. Breathe. Your hands are okay. Nothing happened to them. He reached out, gently resting his hand against Strange’s elbow, squeezing carefully, making sure not to go near his hands. It was just the bond. Your hands are okay. I promise.

My hands. Not my hands.

Breathe, Stephen, Tony ordered, squeezing his elbow gently again, hoping it would act as a counterpoint to the phantom pain that was still echoing through his own—and presumably Strange’s—body. His wrist felt like it was on fire, and for Strange it had to be more than triggering. Your hands are okay. You just need to breathe.

Strange inhaled, sharp and unsteady. 

Good, Tony said. Now hold it. He counted mentally. Release. Your hands are fine. I promise. Breathe.

He led Strange through several more breaths, Strange gradually steadying.

The rush of embarrassment that ran through him was the first sign that Strange was back with him and not lost in his own horror and panic.

Strange slowly looked up and their gazes met, faces close with how Tony had positioned himself. Strange looked painfully grateful and sharply embarrassed. He felt that way, too. Which only made Tony’s own embarrassment flare harder. God, he’d had no idea what he was doing. He definitely hadn’t managed the smooth reassurance that Strange had during Tony’s panic attack.

Tony moved back, forcing himself to his feet, stumbling his way back to his seat ungracefully. “Okay. So you were right,” Tony said. “That was a bad idea.” Vision floated close, hovering near Tony’s seat uncertainly as though he wasn’t sure what to do in the situation.

Tony didn’t have an answer for him.

Wong didn’t look particularly smug, gaze focused on Strange who wasn’t looking at Wong, instead focusing intensely—one might say overcompensatingly so—on the bonds that still extended between the two of them. Mind and heart were now completely gold, while body was more than half way filled. 

They’d very much accelerated the bonds.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Strange said, voice entirely composed, showing none of the panic or horror that he’d been feeling only a minute ago. The emotions that still bubbled there, just under the surface of the calm Strange was pulling over himself like a blanket.

“Nope,” Tony agreed, striving to keep his voice light. “And I like to make my mistakes only once, so I vote we don’t do that again.”

“Agreed.”

Wong snorted. “I would not have tried even had you asked,” he told them, voice serious.

Tony swallowed, trying not to focus on the lingering horror he still felt radiating from Strange.

“Sounds like I should figure out to shield, since this isn’t going to be an easy fix,” he added, trying to pull the conversation away from the landmine in the room.

Strange nodded. “Yes, you should.”

Tony grabbed one of the books, flipping it open to where he’d been reading and focusing down on it with every ounce of his concentration. He sensed that Strange wanted privacy after what had happened, and this was the most privacy that Tony could give him since Strange’s shields didn’t seem to block emotions, even if they did block thoughts.

“Mr. Stark,” Vision said, voice drawing Tony out of his attempts to read and to Vision who was still hovering near him. “Are you quite all right? You… seemed to be in pain.” His gaze drifted to Tony’s chest where two buttons had been ripped open, during his own panic.

Tony buttoned up his shirt again, smiling at Vision as he did so, not worried that it was anything less than perfect. He’d learned to smile in less than stellar conditions a long time ago. “I’m fine, Vision. Already gone.” A lie, but one only Strange would know. “It was unpleasant, not going to lie. But it’s over with.”

Vision looked unsure, but then nodded. “Perhaps… Perhaps there is something more I can do to help?” Vision suggested. “Mr. Wong—“

“Just Wong,” Wong said, sounding put out about someone calling him ‘Mr.’

“—has made it clear that I will not be able to help remove the spell. But perhaps there is… something more I can do?”

He looked so desperate to be of help that Tony couldn’t deny him. He handed Vision the mind shielding book that had been the least helpful, The Protection of Mind and Soul, and gave Vision a wry grin. “Not getting much out of this one.” It was the most esoteric and philosophical of the three, and while Tony could parse his way through, if Vision wanted to help, then Tony could turn it over. “Want to see if you can scrape some useful tidbits out for me to apply?”

“Of course, Mr. Stark.” Vision looked relieved. “It would be my pleasure.”

Tony nodded at him, turning back to his own books. Strange had said that the Iron Man armor was probably the wrong shape to use to create shields in his mind, but Tony still wasn’t sure what would be better. What kept him safer than the armor?

He skimmed through the books some more, back and forth between each one, only drawn out when he felt Strange grab his own book and settle somewhat. 

Strange still felt shaky in Tony’s head, but he felt better, more stable.

Thank you.

Tony shook his head, not looking up from his book. No need. He hesitated, trying to figure out if he should ask, and then realized that Strange already knew he was thinking the question anyways. You okay?

Of course, Strange answered quickly. I’m fine.

Tony did his best to believe him, focusing back on his book to hide his thoughts.

You’re thinking too literally, Strange told him as Tony tried to picture actual shields around his mind. What do you trust to not literally keep you safe, but make you feel safe?

Tony sighed. The armor. But his mind couldn’t help but go to the time after New York and his relentless need to make the armor and how little it had actually helped. More a distraction than an actual fix.

Strange felt skeptical. That’s a crutch.

He couldn’t help the surge of annoyance he felt. Strange didn’t know anything about Tony or Tony’s coping mechanisms. He didn’t know what Tony trusted.

I’m just saying what you already thought.

Tony shut his book, looking up and meeting Strange’s gaze. What do you suggest I use, then?

Strange just shrugged. Find what really makes you feel safe.

That didn’t help.

It’s… Strange sighed. For me it’s music.

Tony stared at him, confused. What?

Music. My shields. I’m surrounded by music. It’s been my safe haven since I was a kid. There was a wealth going unsaid there, but Tony didn’t try to pry. I used to play piano, and, before magic, it was when I felt happiest, safest. Even now, I find few things as comforting as listening to music. Of course, it’s more complicated than that. I had to compose my own song, my own ‘key’ so to speak. But at it’s core, it’s music. Music doesn’t literally keep me safe, would do nothing in an attack, but it makes me feel safe. That’s what shields are.

That was… not something Tony would have ever expected to hear used as a shield and it forced Tony to shift his own thought process away from the sort of visualization he’d been using.

He just sat there, staring at Strange as he considered different options. What made him feel safe? This time he dismissed all thoughts of the armor. Because, as much as it annoyed him to hear Strange say it, too often it had been used as a crutch.

And anyways, he was Iron Man with or without the armor, and he sure as hell didn’t feel safe as just himself.

No, the best part of the armor was…

JARVIS.

Strange raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

Can… can a person be a shield?

I don’t see why not, Strange agreed. If you do it right.

Tony considered the answer, considered how it would work. Because it felt like an answer, like the answer, really. 

He could hear JARVIS in his head, that steady ‘For you, sir? Always.’ that had been JARVIS’ promise to him. Emotion caught in his throat. He missed JARVIS so much.

JARVIS, who, even broken, had protected the world from Ultron. JARVIS who, even in his final moments, had wanted to protect all of them.

JARVIS who had protected Tony, had ever since he’d first come online, but had also done so much more than that.

Strange looked away, and Tony was grateful for the semblance of privacy Strange was pretending to give him.

Don’t judge me, Tony told him.

I’m not going—

But I’m going to sit under the table again.

Strange paused. All right, I am going to judge you. The chair is just as effective for meditation.

Nope. Sitting under the table. He slipped off the chair and beneath the table, shifting so that his back was to Strange and he was staring at his own chair.

JARVIS.

He closed his eyes. It was easy to bring up the base coding. He’d slaved over it at the start, had regularly checked it over over the years to make sure that JARVIS was still healthy.

A certain memory came to him. JARVIS’ primary directive had been to learn and grow. That was the one that Tony had given him, it was the one he had given to all of his AI. They were learning AI after all.

It had been when Tony was 26, out of the hospital after an overdose that Tony still wasn’t sure if it had been accidental or purposeful, that JARVIS had asked him to look over his coding again and Tony found that JARVIS had changed his own primary directive to ‘Protect creator. Designation: Sir’.

Tony had stopped using drugs after that, most people attributing it to the scare of almost dying. But it had been because JARVIS’ decision had been a quiet plea for him to stop. Tony had never told anyone, not even Rhodey, about what JARVIS had done. Because JARVIS had chosen Tony in ways that Tony had never imagined. Because he hadn’t built JARVIS to take care of him. He’d built JARVIS to be his own person and, yes, to help him. But for in the lab, not like that.

So he pictured JARVIS base coding, the base coding that JARVIS had changed, with that kernel of ‘Protect creator. Designation: Sir’ at the center of it.

And then he built out around it, rebuilding JARVIS’ coding as much as he could remember, and then building firewalls around that as though this was a real program he was creating. It was consuming work, and his fingers tapped out on his knees, as he imagine himself in front of an actual computer.

He didn’t know how long he worked, all he knew was that when he opened his eyes he was stiff and tired. He crawled out from underneath the table.

Vision, Wong, and Strange were all reading, but Strange looked up as soon as Tony pulled himself up onto his chair, barely keeping in his groan.

Well done, Strange told him. Your thoughts went silent about half-way through. You’ll need to meditate at least every few days to keep your shields in the best shape.

Told you I could learn to shield.

Strange rolled his eyes. “Congratulations,” he said out loud, voice dry. “You proved me wrong. But I still win, I said I’d figure out what was wrong before you could shield.”

“Technically Vision figured it out. And the implication was that you’d figure it out and fix it. Which you have not done.”

“Implied is not stated,” Strange retorted just as quickly.

Vision and Wong both looked up. “Really?” Wong sounded surprised, interrupting their back and forth. “Impressive. Creating actual shields so quickly is not easily done.”

Tony flushed a little. But then nodded at Strange. “He got me pointed in the right direction. It would have taken me ages longer to figure out what I was doing without him.” That and desperation. Tony always performed best under desperate circumstances.

Wong sent Strange a surprised but pleased look. “And here I thought he couldn’t teach.”

“I can’t,” Strange said quickly, a flash of panic running through the bond. “So stop thinking about making me take a session with the novices. It won’t work.”

Tony couldn’t help but grin a little at that. Whoops, he thought. Didn’t mean to drop you in hot water there.

Strange sent him an annoyed look. But it wasn’t like Tony was lying. He hadn’t meant to do it. Didn’t necessarily mean he regretted it though.

Strange probably deserved it.

He cracked a yawn, jaw popping a little. He blinked in surprise at his own exhaustion, then glanced at the time. Alright. Yeah, he probably needed to get to bed.

“So… what are we going to do about this?” Tony asked, gesturing between him and Strange. “Obviously we’re not breaking the bond anytime soon.” Strange shuddered, just slightly, and Tony noticed the cloak’s edges slink up the table to cover Strange’s hands from sight. “But do we just… live our lives?” He paused. “Separately?” Or as separately as they could when Tony could still feel Strange’s emotions rubbing against his own.

Wong sighed. “You can.”

Tony made a face. “Why does that not sound like a yes?”

“Because it is an acknowledgment of fact, not a suggested course of action,” Wong said plainly. “In fact, it is the opposite of a suggested course of action.”

“You’re back on the wishes again,” Strange groused. “That nonsense about me being lonely and Stark being unhappy.”

“We cannot remove the bond until those wishes are fulfilled. It would make sense for you to actively attempt to work at these problems. You may find a friendship between the two of you to be fulfilling.” He gave them both a reprimanding look. “You are both stubborn and foolish, clearly you already have a great deal in common.”

Tony wasn’t sure if the emotion he felt was amusement or resignation. Peter and FRIDAY, and apparently Wong and the cloak, were going to be disappointed. Tony was good at a lot of things, but helping someone feel less ‘lonely’? Not a skill of his. All he would do was make Strange appreciate when he was alone better, or at least appreciate not having Tony around. 

Strange’s gaze flickered toward him and Tony had a moment of relief that Strange could no longer hear all of Tony’s thoughts.

“I’m not sure that’s necessary,” Strange said, and Tony could feel his resignation. Resignation, Tony knew, to being stuck with Tony.

“Right,” Tony agreed. “We’ll make do.”

“Right,” Strange agreed again. Tony had the strangest sense that they were going around in circles. An almost instinctive need to say ‘right’ again hitting him. But that would definitely having them going around in circles, so he resisted.

“In that case, I think me and Vision should probably get back home.”

There was a sense of… reluctance? Relief? Tony wasn’t sure how both emotions were true. Then again, he wasn’t great at recognizing his own emotions, it was impossible to say if he’d recognize Strange’s correctly.

Strange stood. “I can open you a portal.”

Tony felt a shiver of anxiety at the thought of going through another one. But nothing had happened the first time, nothing would happen this time.

“I do have a question,” Vision said as Strange opened a portal, showing Tony the safety of his lab beyond the glowing orange. “We know now who made the wishes. We do not yet know how the wishes were able to catch hold. Surely that is important?”

Wong and Strange both shrugged. “Unlikely we’re ever going to know,” Wong said.

“It’s probably not important,” Strange agreed. “Nothing more than the four of them getting lucky. I doubt it will matter.”

Chapter Text

The world was a misty gray around him. Each step he took created eddies of movement as the mist wrapped around him and dispersed. A chill crawled up his back. Unease settled heavy on his shoulders, a burden he was meant to bear.

In front of him his bonds glowed gold, connecting him to Strange somewhere down the misty line. He followed where they led, steps certain and sure. He didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t know where he was going, but it felt right. So he did it anyways.

His vision was pathetic, the mist obscuring everything around him. It left him entirely alone in the gray. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking before he realized he wasn’t sure if there was anything for the mist to obscure. He wasn’t sure that there was anything but him, the mists, and his bonds stretching out into infinity.

It meant that when he first spotted something other than the mist on the horizon it took him a moment to realize that he was not alone.

Strange.

He continued his steady walking, even as part of him wanted to hurry, to find some sort of companionship—even if that companionship was Strange—in this gray world he walked in.

He had almost reached the figure when he realized it wasn’t Strange.

The person standing there was an amorphous figure, the mist pouring off of them to fill the space around them. They were wearing some sort of hooded robe, just as gray as the rest of the world around them. Tony was starting to sense a theme, here.

The figure was touching his bonds, fingers running over them; the gold glowed brighter everywhere they touched. Something defensive curled in his chest. That was his bond, his and Strange’s, and a stranger had no right to touch it.

He opened his mouth to tell them to stop, but nothing came out, just silence. He paused, steps faltering, before he came to a stop and was unable to move forward.

The figure turned towards him. There were no truly identifiable features, just the bare shape of a somewhat humanoid face, perfectly shaped in a way that was almost unnatural. Tony had the strangest thought that perhaps the figure had been formed by clay.

Movement in the distance caught Tony’s attention and he realized that this time it was Strange, following the bonds towards him and this strange figure standing only fifteen feet ahead of Tony, watching him with those sightless eyes.

Strange stopped on the other side of the figure, almost the exact distance that Tony himself had stopped at. Tony didn’t feel compelled, but at the same time he clearly was. At the very least he certainly wasn’t the one in control of this dream. The figure turned away from Tony and back to the bonds, gold trailing from their fingers as they brought their hands back to the bonds, rubbing along the strings, thickening the bonds, strengthening them.

Tony could feel it, a thrum through the bond that set his bones humming.

He closed his eyes, focused on his thoughts and tried to ‘project’ them. Strange? He asked, hoping it made it past his shields. He wasn’t sure it would work in this strange dream they were stuck in, but he could hope.

Stark, Strange responded. 

Relief filled him, the ability to communicate stilling some of the unease in his chest. What is this? He knew it was a dream, but there was something more to it, an awareness that Tony normally didn’t carry with him when he dreamt.

I don’t know, Strange admitted. I don’t know what this is. Or why it is.

It had to mean something, though. This dream that belonged to both of them and neither of them. He wondered over that, over his own certainty that this was Strange with him, and not a figment of the dream. Surely the latter would make more sense?

“You would reject my gift?” came a perfectly neutral voice from the figure between them. The voice was as amorphous as the figure themself, and Tony found that he couldn’t place anything from the tone to the timbre. “Hide from each other, run from what you need if you are to succeed?” Tony opened his mouth to respond, but once again found himself speechless. Perhaps not speechless, simply unable to speak.

Strange? He asked again. This really feels like it falls under your sort of… thing. What are we supposed to do?

My thing? Strange asked. How very eloquent of you. There was a pause. But yes, this does feel far more like my arena.

“Failure,” the figure said, their voice loud in the silence, echoing in Tony’s head. “Is not an option.”

Fail what? Tony asked.

Strange didn’t answer. The bonds between them were glowing, brighter and brighter and—

His hands ached as the exhilaration in his chest faded.

It was the first thing Tony really noticed when he woke up: the pain in his hands. It took him longer than he was proud of to put together why, looking, first for some explanation of what he might have done to himself.

It hit him after a moment. Mind, heart, and now body. The body bond had clearly finalized some time in the hours since he’d gone to bed to now.

Tony stared down at this hands, clenching and unclenching them. They weren’t shaking, not the way he’d seen Strange’s shake. No, his pain was more phantom than real. Though it certainly felt real enough. But while he might feel the effects of Strange’s nerve damage, Tony hadn’t actually taken nerve damage.

He rubbed at his face, grateful when it didn’t exacerbate the pain. But of course it didn’t. It was Strange’s pain, not his own.

A sigh escaped him, heavy and exhausted. Not a good start to his day, really.

This was going to take some getting used to.

There was a sharp intensity settled in his chest, hints or worry, and a focused concentration. Strange was awake and clearly up to something.

This couldn’t possibly have been what FRIDAY and Peter were expecting when they’d made their wishes. His heart tugged at the thought. Peter had wished that Tony was happy.

“Hey, FRI?”

“Yes Boss?” FRIDAY answered instantly.

Tony hesitated, trying to decide how to best word his question. “You made a wish for me,” he said slowly. “Why?” He glanced up at the cameras. “And how, for that matter?” He hadn’t been making her any birthday cakes for her to blow the candles out for.

Hmm… Should he make her a birthday cake? Maybe a digital one? Maybe he’d ask Vision what he thought. Vision had the unique capability to understand Tony’s AI, after all—

He shook the thought away.

FRIDAY didn’t answer immediately, a strange occurrence when her processors moved as quickly as they did. “You… you don’t smile, boss. Not even in the lab. Just what you have called your ‘press smile’. I found… I found myself discontent by this.” She sounded faintly troubled, as though she didn’t understand her own reactions. “Then Karen told me about how Peter had celebrated his birthday and about the wishing tradition. So I hacked into the Hubble telescope and found the brightest star and…”

Tony laughed, smiling at FRIDAY. “That’s brilliant, FRI,” he told her. It was easier to focus on the method she’d chosen to make her wish than to focus on the truth of why she had. “But FRI, I’m okay. You know that, right?”

FRIDAY didn’t answer immediately. “You aren’t though,” she said finally.

Tony paused. “Well, I will be,” he said. “Sometimes happiness just takes… work.”

It took a moment, but finally FRIDAY answered. “Okay, Boss.” 

He glanced at his clock to check the time. Five a.m. He frowned. He didn’t sleep in much these days, but he still normally made it until at least six or six-thirty. Why the hell was he awake so early?

He tried to remember the first moments after waking. Something besides the pain had woken him up, like the remnants of a nightmare.

Had he dreamt last night? There was a faint sense memory of… He closed his eyes. Gray. Golden bonds. Someone… someone there. Talking.

Tony shook his head as nothing more came back to him. It didn’t matter; it was a dream. Hardly a nightmare. Perhaps Strange had had a nightmare and his reaction had echoed through their bonds, unstopped by their shields. 

That would make sense. Annoying though. Was he really going to be stuck on the same waking cycle as Strange?

If true, that was going to get annoying, and quickly.

Still, he was awake. He might as well actually get going with his day.

Stark.

Tony jumped a little, surprised to hear Strange actually talking to him. Some part of him had thought that they simply… wouldn’t.

Strange? What do you want?

We need to talk, Strange told him. Five minutes. I’ll be opening a portal to your lab.

Tony narrowed his eyes. I’m not at your command, you know?

It’s about the dream.

Tony frowned. Yes, he was a little annoyed that Strange had woken him up, but that didn’t mean he was going to be demanding explanations. Nightmares happened. Listen, I’m not going to ask questions about your nightmares, we don’t—

You don’t remember? Strange interrupted. There was a faint hint of concern in their bond. It was your dream, too.

His dream too?

Gray. Golden bonds. Someone… not quite real. Strange? Had Strange been there?

The more he focused on it, the less he could remember and he forced himself to stop.

Fine. Five minutes.

He quickly dressed, heading down to his lab. He passed Vision as he went. There was a faint scent of burnt eggs that meant that Vision had been experimenting in the kitchen. Tony sometimes amused himself by considering that Vision had inherited Tony’s lack of skill in the kitchen. Especially when it came to eggs.

“Mr. Stark,” Vision said easily. “Are you doing well?”

“More bond nonsense,” Tony admitted. “Strange is going to be in the lab in about—“ he glanced at his watch. “30 seconds.” He had better not touch anything before Tony got there.

Vision’s head tilted, and his eyes seemed to brighten. “You would not mind if I…” He did not finish the sentence, sounding almost abashed, but Tony could figure out easily enough what he meant.

Tony blinked, then shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Vision followed him as he continued his trek to his lab.

Strange was already there when he arrived—Tony was going to have to put down some baseline rules about access to Tony’s lab—and sent Vision a cursory look when they both arrived.

“You don’t need a bodyguard, Stark. I’m hardly going to harm you. Especially when we’ve already started sharing pain.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “It’s called curiosity, Strange. And don’t pretend like your friend Wong isn’t going to be involved.”

Strange didn’t respond to that. “What do you remember about our dream last night?” Strange asked, jumping straight to the point.

Tony searched back for the dream, but it was loose and slippery. “Mist?” he asked. “Our bonds, I think. There was someone else, but—” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s distant.”

Strange’s brow furrowed and his hand came to rest on one of Tony’s tables, one finger tapping slowly.

“How sure are you that we were sharing a dream, anyways?” Tony asked. “Isn’t it far more likely that you simply dreamt of me?”

“No.” Strange shook his head. “It was the same dream. We spoke.”

“That doesn’t mean—“

Strange narrowed his eyes at him. “Let us categorize this as something that falls under my—“ he brought his hands up and made quote marks with his fingers. “—‘Sort of thing’ and acknowledge that I’m the expert in the field.”

Tony made a face at him. “You just quoted me, didn’t you?” Or the him that Strange had dreamt of, which may or may not have been actual Tony instead of some sort of dream Tony. Except Tony barely remembered the dream at all.

“Yes.”

Tony sighed. “Does it matter? It was a dream. Maybe that’s ‘soul’ and that bond developed more quickly than we expected. We already knew that was going to happen. So, we shared a weird dream. Our subconsciouses mixed together to create something unusual. Dreams are like that.”

He didn’t see the big deal. And maybe that was because he just wanted them to keep their shields up as high as they could go and pretend like this wasn’t happening. He had thought that Strange was on the same page as him. Of course Strange couldn’t follow that script.

“You are concerned?” Vision asked. Tony glanced at him to see his head was tilted in question. The gesture was not quite natural, still obviously a mimicry of body language he saw in others, but it was becoming more natural, more second nature.

Strange’s face tightened. “Yes. And for good reason.” He sighed, before his gaze turned to Tony. “You would reject my gift?” Stephen asked. His gaze was penetrating. “Hide from each other. Run from what you need.”

The words stirred in Tony’s mind, words echoing in the mist in a shapeless voice. Words tripped from his mouth. “Failure is not an option.” There was a sudden, bitter taste in his mouth.

Strange nodded. “Vision’s question last night, about how the wishes might have taken hold?”

Tony put it together quickly. “You think it was the person in the dream.” A chill ran down his back. He… well, he didn’t like the sound of that. “And they showed up to make it clear that our plan to just… continue on with our lives is not what they intended or wanted.” 

Strange nodded. “That would seem to be the case, yes.”

“Since this is your ‘sort of thing’, do you know who? What?“ he gestured around them. ”—Why? Any or all of the above.”

Strange’s lips pursed, eyes turning almost stormy in his displeasure. “Unfortunately not.”

“And if we… don’t listen?”

“That depends highly on who, exactly, it was that just infiltrated our dreams.” Strange sighed; he looked tired. “There are some beings that we would be better… pacifying.”

Tony made a face at that. Pacifying. He was not good at pacifying. “So… how do we figure it out?”

Strange opened up a portal, giving Tony an expectant look as he did so. “Ready to start learning a few ancient languages?”

Tony ran a hand over his face. “Research. Right. Yes. I love research.” Research would give them answers. Answers would help them define the parameters of what was going on. And, just in case it was necessary, defining the parameters would help him figure out how to work around the parameters.

Tony had always been good at that.

“May I?” Vision asked, and he looked almost eager. Apparently, despite the nature of the situation, Vision had enjoyed himself last night. Or perhaps because of the nature of the situation. Vision understood most things—well, most things intellectual—instinctively. Finding a whole world that was beyond his knowledge must be fascinating.

Strange glanced at Tony, raising an eyebrow. There was a clear question there. “Your haunted sanctum,” Tony said, leaving that completely up to Strange. 

Not haunted, Strange told him, a quick burn of irritation there and gone.

Tony rolled his eyes.

Strange sent him one sharp look before examining Vision with one of his scrutinizing gazes. And really, Strange did scrutinizing well. Finally, Strange nodded. “You’re welcome to join us.”

The three of them ended up back in the sanctum library. Wong was already there, a book in front of him and several books piled beside him. There were a few other books set out and Strange pointed to one pile for him to look at. 

“How many potential answers are there,” Tony asked, a little appalled. “Surely there aren’t that many beings capable of granting wishes and creating super intrusive bonds?”

“Traditionally?” Wong asked. “Perhaps a dozen.”

Tony glanced between all the books set out. “And you don’t think this is traditional.”

“We’ll check them off,” Strange said. “But, no, this seems… different.”

That was so reassuring. Tony fell into the seat, staring at the books in front of him. “So what am I looking for, then?”

Strange and Wong exchanged a look. “We don’t know,” Strange admitted. “The dreams may be a clue. As is the intensity of the bond. We know our… mysterious benefactor.” Tony snorted at the term. “Considers the bonds ‘gifts’, which for the time being we should take as a sign of their intent. And they used the power of ‘love’ to empower the spell, which is almost impossible to use maliciously.”

“Right. So we don’t really know anything.”

“Yet,” Wong said. “We don’t know anything, yet.”

That really didn’t make Tony feel any better. He searched through the books, finding one in English. He’d save learning some new languages to give him a break in a few hours.

“What would you have me do?” Vision asked, glancing around the library.

Strange waved at the library. “We’ve chosen the most obvious books. But do a walkthrough and see if any of the titles seem relevant. There are some that we might have forgotten or missed.”

Vision nodded and drifted off to the front of the library.

Tony focused on his book, noting absently when Strange chose the seat across from him.

The sense of concentration that Strange immediately fell into was intense, almost catching him off guard. Tony suspected that very little would penetrate that level of concentration. He shook his head, and allowed himself to fall into his focused state, shoving Strange’s emotions to the back of his mind.

The book he’d chosen was focused on wishes in general, starting with an overview on the three general types of wishes: targeted wishes, conscious wishes, and unintentional wishes.

It was interesting, Tony had to admit. Even if he’d decided that he was definitely not going to be making any wishes of his own, ever. This whole situation had rather turned him off from the prospect. Not that he’d been much of a wish maker before. 

A weird sensation pulled him from his reading just as he was getting close to finishing his book. A twist in his stomach. Tony stopped reading, trying to figure out what sort of emotion Strange was feeling. There was another unpleasant twist, almost like a demand.

Realization hit him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He glared at Strange who ignored him. Tony grabbed his irritation and shoved it at Strange.

A moment later Strange was looking back up at him. “What?” Strange asked, his own irritation flaring out at the interruption.

“You’re hungry!” Tony told him.

“I’m not hungry,” Strange protested, hand coming to rest protectively on his stomach. “Maybe you’re hungry.”

Tony shook his head. “I’ve trained my body to ignore the signs.” He raised a finger as Strange when it looked like Strange was about to respond. “And don’t even try to tell me off. I’ve heard it all before and I’ve got a system. It works.”

“It would be very hypocritical of Stephen to do so,” Wong informed him. “Stephen does not pay attention to his hunger signs, either.”

Strange furrowed his brows, head tilting to the side. “I am hungry,” he finally decided. “I hadn’t realized.”

“And you’ve gone and made me hungry,” Tony muttered. It’d been a while since he’d eaten. He might have grabbed a granola bar right before the gala last night, but he actually wasn’t entirely sure if he’d eaten it or if it had gotten lost in the car. “Do you know how irritating that is?” This was going to mess up his system, he could already tell.

“I’m getting a sense of it,” Strange said. He gestured between them to indicate their bond. He stood. “Come on, there’s food in the kitchen.”

Tony grumbled as he pushed himself to his feet, but followed Strange out of the library.

“Do not come back until you’ve finished!” Wong shouted behind them. “No food in the library!”

Strange muttered something under his breath, tone of voice irritated but the feel in Tony’s chest one of amusement. 

The halls of the sanctum were rather plain, with simple wooden paneling with the occasional painting hung on the walls. Some of which were vaguely gruesome, he noted, as he took in a cthulhu type monster preparing to eat what Tony was going to assume was a sorcerer based on the clothing. “Cheery,” Tony noted.

Strange glanced at what had caught his attention.

“Master Loras versus a Gorlab. Quite the story. But it has a happy ending.” He paused. “Relatively.”

Tony was tempted to ask what ‘relatively’ meant, but they’d reached the kitchen and his body was quick to remind him that Strange’s hunger had initiated his own.

So very, very annoying.

Strange opened the refrigerator and Tony caught sight of what looked like eyes inside a jar. He turned away, deciding he really, really didn’t want to know. If Strange and Wong were actually a part of some serial killer cult that was going to make things very difficult.

“Eggs?” Strange asked as he shut the refrigerator door. “I can make us some.”

Tony turned back to him. “That works.”

Strange busied himself at the stove and Tony took a seat at the table pushed against a wall. “So… Your whole… thing.” 

“The Mystic Arts?” Strange clarified.

“Right, that. How’d you end up here?”

Strange didn’t answer immediately. “I’m sure you can piece together parts of the story well enough,” Strange said finally. He turned from where he was stirring the eggs in the pan to hold up his shaking hands.

The pain in Tony’s own hands was the only real reminder that Tony needed. 

“The accident,” Tony said. “You couldn’t exactly be a neurosurgeon after that.”

“No.”

Tony was quiet, considering. “So were you recruited after that? Or did you search them out.”

“I heard there was a cure,” Strange said. “Something that could give me my hands back. I followed the trail to Kamar Taj.”

“And there wasn’t a cure,” Tony guessed.

Strange was quiet for a moment, a still sort of contemplation coming over him. “No, there was. I simply… decided that the price wasn’t worth it.”

Tony supposed that was fair. Few things came without a price. He’d be more skeptical, really, if there wasn’t a price. Still, it seemed to be bordering on personal to ask Strange what the price had been that Strange hadn’t been willing to pay. He actually wasn’t looking to get any closer to Strange than they already were.

Strange finished making their eggs, plating them both up some.

Tony took a hesitant bite, the sudden memory of Vision’s last attempt at making eggs coming back to him.

A hint of offense down the bond. “I can cook eggs,” Strange said.

The eggs were soft and well seasoned, neither bland nor a salt and pepper pit. He took another bite. “I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“You were thinking it.”

Tony looked up, worried. “Are my shields—?”

Strange rolled his eyes. “No, they’re fine. You were just being obvious about it.”

“Vision has taken to trying to cook eggs,” Tony explained. “I’ve avoided having to try all but a few attempts. It’s…” He winced, remembering the rubbery monstrosities that he’d choked down the last time he hadn’t been able to avoid the kitchen during one of Vision’s cooking attempts. “Not pleasant.”

Strange blinked. “I didn’t realize he ate.”

“He doesn’t,” Tony said. “He’s just very dedicated to the craft.” Dedicated, but not good.

“I see.” 

Strange finished first, but waited for Tony to finish as well before taking him back through the sanctum and to the library. 

Tony skimmed through the books still in his pile, there was one more in English, and he figured it made the most sense to focus on it first. It was about different sort of ‘genies’. And honestly, he kind of preferred when genies were only a thing that existed in folklore and mythology.

Still, it didn’t matter what he preferred. What mattered was getting answers.

The world was a misty gray.

Again.

Last night’s dream, faint and hard to grasp while he’d been awake, was suddenly crystal clear to him, the memories of it as sharp as if he’d just experienced it.

Everything was the same, including the golden glowing bonds leading him into the mist.

His feet were moving, entirely beyond his will. He didn’t wait until he reached the figure he was sure was going to be there at the end. Their mysterious ‘benefactor’. Strange, he reached out.

I’m here, Strange responded. On my way. He sounded slightly exasperated at that. I don’t apparently have a choice in that matter.

Kind of on the irritating side, Tony commented. He glared down at his own feet where they were moving forward entirely without his say so. 

The mist spun and swirled around him as he walked. 

Yes, rather, Strange agreed.

There was a thrum in his bones. Tony wasn’t quite sure whether the sensation was painful or pleasurable.

Either way, he didn’t like it.

Tony had no idea how long it took as he walked through the silence with nothing at all to break up the monotony.

He and Strange didn’t talk, it felt… vulnerable. As though someone was listening in on them.

But then, Tony suspected that their little bond-giver was.

There were two figures in the distance, he realized finally. But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t make himself walk any faster. They started to grow more distinct as he closed in. Strange was already there, stopped about fifteen feet from the figure who was once again running their hands all over his and Strange’s bonds.

The silence between them seemed to last for ages. Strange? Tony asked, as the silence stretched on. Any ideas what they want?

No more than last time.

Tony really didn’t like the idea of simply standing here in tense silence until he eventually managed to wake up, but it certainly seemed to be the name of the game at the moment.

“For years you could have run from me,” the figure said, voice still so impossible to pin down. “But you chose me at every turn. Now, when I come to you, you reject me.” 

Tony wanted to inform the figure that he had absolutely never chosen them. But just like the last time this had happened, his words couldn’t escape.

There was a slow, budding emotion in his chest. It took him a minute to figure out what the feeling was. Realization.

But Tony still had absolutely no idea what was happening. Which meant that Strange did. Dread spread down the bond.

What? He asked. What did you just figure out? And how much am I going to hate it?

Strange didn’t answer. 

The figure slowly turned, raising their head to stare at Strange. “Do you run from me still, time keeper?” the figure asked. They turned toward Tony. “And you? Soul maker?”

Strange, Tony demanded. What did you just figure out?

There was a sense of fatality in Strange’s inner voice when he finally answered. I know who this is.

Who?

The figure was focusing on their bonds again, gold trailing from their fingers. The bonds grew brighter and brighter and then—

Tony woke.

Chapter Text

He hated it. So much.

“You’re saying that we were cursed by Fate?” Tony asked, voice flat.

“Destiny,” Strange corrected. Because apparently Fate and Destiny were two separate things. Of course, Tony should have known. Not. “And I’m pretty sure we’ve already explained that this isn’t a curse.”

“It is a love spell,” Vision reminded him. He’d been waiting almost eagerly for Tony when he’d woken up this morning, hoping that they were headed back to the sanctum. Tony thought that Vision might be taking just a little too much enjoyment in the whole thing. 

Strange had just sighed and invited Vision along when he’d shown up with his portal to bring Tony through.

“Also,” Strange continued. “Have you been meditating like I told you?”

Tony blinked, what? “What does that have to do with anything?” Tony asked.

Strange sighed, and Tony could practically feel his emotions in the shape of a scowl, despite the fact that the expression didn’t appear on Strange’s face. “Your shields need maintenance. You’re leaking your thoughts again.”

Tony pursed his lips. Great. “No,” he admitted. “I haven’t been meditating.” There had been a lot of other things going on. It had slipped his mind, somehow, despite the fact that it really shouldn’t have.

“You’re going to as soon as we’ve figured this out,” Strange told him. “I didn’t sign up for your thoughts in my head.”

“Will do,” Tony agreed. Because he hadn’t signed up for it either. And, he had to admit, it really wasn’t fair to Strange. “But first, Destiny? You’re telling me that Destiny is more than just an abstract, make-believe concept and is instead a cosmic entity who has, for some reason, decided to target us for…”

Wong tapped the book on the desk in front of him. “Destiny only interferes when the course of the future will result in a dearth of fulfilled destinies.”

Tony tried, he really did, to figure out what the hell he and Strange had to do with a ‘dearth of destinies’.”

“So, they’re trying to divert that future with, quite frankly, ridiculous methods… Shouldn’t Destiny be the last person to want to change the future? Isn’t that the point of Destiny?”

The pinched look on Strange’s face seemed to indicate that he agreed with Tony’s assessment but didn’t want to have to admit it. “Destiny can be avoided, altered. Or, in large enough cases, destroyed completely. Something, somewhere is trying to rewrite destiny to suit their vision and Destiny isn’t pleased. We’re…”

“The editors meant to get the story back on track?” Tony suggested. “Because, just so you know, English, grammar, that sort of thing? Not my strong suit.”

“In theory,” Strange said, ignoring the last part. “According to the one book we could find that spoke of this, our binding… it’s because together we can achieve more than we would be able to achieve on our own.” 

Tony was reluctantly pleased to feel Strange’s frustration. It would be very annoying if he was the only person who found this whole thing to be bullshit.

“Does Destiny take critiques?” Tony asked, completely serious. “Because I have them. I have so many of them, and I’m more than willing to share.”

“No,” Wong said. “There will be no angering of entities that could destroy us with a thought.”

Strange snorted, giving Wong a very pointed look. Wong paused. “All right, no angering entities that haven’t threatened the destruction of earth or have through, some other means, come to deserve it.” 

Tony was dying to know what that interaction meant. He suspected there was a story there.

Strange glanced at him. No, he said, in what was clear finality.

Tony sighed, but accepted it. Not that he had a choice but to accept it. But at least he was being gracious about it.

Strange rolled his eyes.

Tony really wished he’d been meditating, because he far preferred his existence when there were shields in place. “So now that we know what’s caused it…”

“Nothing changes,” Wong said. “You still cannot break the bonds, and in fact, we must acknowledge that the situation is far more vital than we first assumed. The two of you need to stay calm and rational.”

Tony immediately felt distinctly not calm. He hated it when people told him to stay calm. Almost as much as he hated it when people told him to be rational. This was shaping up to go very, very poorly and Tony was not pleased.

“You must remember that Destiny is doing this for a reason.”

“I really want to know what reason is good enough to bind two strangers together in an incredibly invasive way,” Tony said. “Without their consent, mind.” Though that did bring to question whether ‘cosmic entities’ viewed things like consent in the same way humans did.

“That is—“ Wong froze and beside him Vision went perfectly still in a way unnatural to even Vision’s normal non-human stillness.

Tony frowned. “What the?”

“Wong?” Strange asked, sharp with his concern.

Wariness had them both on edge.

“Perhaps,” came a soft voice from behind them, “you might consider the death of nearly three-quarters of the universe to be sufficient need for such drastic measures and ‘ridiculous methods’?”

Tony whirled around. There was a hum of magic as Strange created some sort of orange-gold shields around this fists. Tony brought his watch gauntlet to bear against the intruder.

The figure from their dreams stood in front of them. Their almost-human like form wrapped in mist that was slowly spreading through the room. The hood was drawn over their head.

“Don’t tell me,” Tony said dryly, hiding his unease with long practice. Though he’d have never guessed that his ‘completely unperturbed with this turn of events’ persona was ever going to be tested against a cosmic entity, or whatever Strange and Wong were calling Destiny. “You’re Destiny.” He gestured to Wong and Vision behind him. “And that’s your doing?”

They tilted their head in a slight nod of acknowledgment. “I am a manifestation of Destiny that your mortal eyes can managed to comprehend, yes.” Well, that felt condescending. “They will be fine. As will you and Doctor Strange.”

Oh, so they’d be fine. So Tony should just stow his irritation with this whole situation and accept it.

Do not tick off Destiny, Stark, Strange told him as he lowered his fists, the orange-gold shields around his hands flickering away.

Tony didn’t glance at Strange, though he did—reluctantly—follow his example and lower his gauntlet. I’m not an idiot, Strange.

Prove it. Don’t tick off Destiny.

It took effort not to roll his eyes, but he managed to refrain. He didn’t particularly want Destiny to think that Tony was rolling his eyes at them. Because as he told Strange, he wasn’t an idiot. Most of the time, anyways. If he was going to tick Destiny off, it’d be for good reason, not because he couldn’t control himself.

Ten dollars that if one of us ticks off Destiny it’d be you, Tony told Strange.

A brush of aggravation from Strange was as good as an answer. I am not going to bet on something like that.

That’s because you know it’s true. You’re a very aggravating individual, I’ve known you for a few days and I can already tell.

Not nearly as aggravating as you.

Destiny tilted their head. “I am pleased to see that the two of you are already learning to bond,” they said.

Tony bristled a little, disliking the thought that he was playing along with Destiny’s attempt to meddle with his and Strange’s life.

“Shouldn’t you, as Destiny, not want the future to change?”

“Why ever would you think that?” Their voice was mildly amused. “Destiny may indicate a predestined journey, it is not, however, one predestined end for the universe to arrive at, no matter what the Mad Titan thinks of his inevitability.” Tony sensed a hint of distaste. “And I have never been fond of those who think that they are the ones who decide what is and what is not inevitable. I am ever evolving, few things are truly inevitable.”

“Death and change,” Tony muttered to himself. The only things that couldn’t be avoided.

Despite the fact that Destiny didn’t have eyes, Tony could swear that he felt Destiny’ eyes on him. “Yes. And taxes, of course.” 

Strange snorted and Tony choked on a laugh. Was that a joke? Did Destiny have a sense of humor?

He paused, considering his life up to this point. Who was he kidding? Of course Destiny had a sense of humor. He had no doubt that Destiny had gotten more than a few laughs out of his life to date.

Or would that be Fate?

Tony still wasn’t clear on the difference.

“Why have you done this to us?” Strange asked, getting them back on point. “Why twist wishes in such a way? None of them intended for something like this to happen. None of them truly intended for anything to happen.”

“Yes. It was quite the lucky happenstance,” Destiny said. “Those wishes provided just enough leeway for me to manage this.”

“Why?” Tony repeated, since Destiny really hadn’t answered Strange’s question at all.

“Nearly three-quarters of the universe,” Destiny said calmly. “Dead. Gone. Their stories, so many of them vibrant and beautiful, cut short and left untold. All brought to pass by a Mad Titan who wishes to bring ‘peace and prosperity’ through methods of extinction.”

Tony blanched, could feel the blood draining from his face. He swayed, catching himself on a nearby chair.

“How?” he asked, voice unwavering even as he felt like his whole world was crumbling at the edges. He had no proof, but somewhere deep down he knew this was it. This was the nightmare that had been haunting him for five years. This story had started with New York; this was the threat that he had known was coming.

There was a faint hum from Destiny, one Tony thought he could feel in his bones. “The Infinity Stones.” Strange twitched. Tony glanced back toward Vision and the stone inert in his forehead. “Alone they are truly remarkable. But together they are capable of things that one might consider impossible. Things one might consider marvelous… and monstrous.

“Great,” Tony said, mind racing ahead. “Let’s get the stone out of Vision’s head and destroy it.” He’d have to do research, of course, make sure it was possible without killing Vision but Tony had pulled off miracles before. “Then there’s no ‘together’ for this Mad Titan to use.”

Destiny seemed almost amused, or perhaps sad. Tony hadn’t thought the two emotions could be confused before this moment. “Would you risk such a thing? Risk the beginning of the universe’s unraveling?”

Great, so easy option was off the table. Of course it was. Tony hadn’t truly expected anything different.

“Why us?” Strange asked. There was a note of exhaustion in his voice, one that Tony hadn’t expected to hear. It was an exhaustion that Tony felt deep in his own soul. He imagined that it was the same exhaustion that Atlas felt. “What do you expect us to do?”

“I expect you to win,” Destiny said simply.

“As in we will win, because that’s our Destiny? Or as in you want us to go against not-quite-Destiny and win anyways?” Tony asked, pretty sure it was far closer to the second than to the first. Not to say that he wouldn’t appreciate if they were ‘Destined’ to win, because that would be really nice, actually. He just didn’t expect that to be the case.

“You are not Destined to lose,” Destiny said, which wasn’t really an answer to his question. “It is not, despite what the Mad Titan thinks, an inevitability. But the decks have been stacked against you for some time now, and steadily stack further and further. Your bond is to… even the odds, so to speak.”

Tony still didn’t understand how. Well, he supposed he understood how instant and silent communication could be helpful. But the rest? The sheer overkill that was mind, heart, body, and soul? How did that help? It actually sounded like a hindrance if they were stuck feeling each other’s pain. As though in accordance with the thought, the pain in his hands made itself known again.

He glanced to the side to see that Strange had clenched his fists. A moment later he loosened them.

Yep, that would be an absolute disaster during battle.

“We’re fighting against the obliteration of three-quarters of the universe, and you gave us a soul bond,” Strange said. He was clearly as unimpressed with it as Tony was. It was almost reassuring that he and Strange seemed to be mostly on the same page. Honestly, he wasn’t sure whether the condescension for the idea he was feeling was his or Strange’s. Perhaps both of theirs.

Destiny did not seem particularly bothered by their opinion of Destiny’s ‘gift’. “No. I gifted you each other. Had things traveled along their previous trajectory, your paths would have crossed as the Mad Titan arrived, too late to become what you need to become to win.”

Tony glanced at Strange, but Strange’s face was completely blank. Tony could guess how he and Strange might have met. If this threat was truly what Destiny was making it out to be—and Tony fully believed it was—then it would be an all-hands-on-deck situation. And given what little he knew of Strange and what all he knew about himself… he could see how they might have struggled to get along with each other.

But really? This was the best that Destiny could do? Make sure they, what, had time to learn to trust each other? That didn’t feel like enough. Not with so much at stake. And again, there was the overkill that was the bond.

Strange glanced at him, gaze still indecipherable. Tony was a little annoyed, mostly at himself, that Strange had the advantage of being able to read Tony completely while Tony only had what Strange decided to share. It was an unfair advantage, and entirely Tony’s fault for not having remembered to meditate and keep up his shields like Strange had told him to.

“We understand,” Strange said finally. “When is the threat coming?”

Destiny shrugged, or at least that was the closest word Tony could think of to describe the sinuous movement the figure made. “A week, a year, a decade.” Destiny seemed to dismiss the question. “It will be while you live. While the end of this story is not Destined, the two of you are.”

Seriously? SERIOUSLY? That was what Destiny was going to give them?

Stark—

“That’s what you’re giving us?” Tony spat, ignoring what he was sure was Strange about to tell him to shut up. “A week, a year, a decade? How are we supposed to plan? Do you want us to live in a state of hyper-vigilance for the next however long? Because I’ve been there, done that. That’s only going to weaken us, push us into bad decisions, ruin us.” Not to mention that Tony was 47 now, in a decade he’d be 57, hardly in the prime of his life. Hell, he was hardly in the prime of his life now, what with the heart issues, weakened chest, nerve damage in his arm, and too many years of poor choices to his name.

His mind turned, uneasily, to the work he’d done on Extremis. Long after he’d fixed Pepper, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from tweaking and pushing and experimenting. Now…

No.

No, he wasn’t going to—

He couldn’t.

But…

He felt Strange’s attention on him, curious and confused and concerned. He did everything he could to shove the thoughts to the back of his mind where Strange couldn’t see them. Instead he focused back on Destiny and the still unanswered accusations.

Destiny waved at Strange dismissively. “You have Time. I have no doubt that He has as little desire to be destroyed and watch the universe crumble as I have to watch so many lives and stories end before reaching their destiny. Ask Him.”

Tony blinked, completely lost for a moment. What? She wanted them to… what, ask time?

…If time ended up being another cosmic entity, he was going to go back to bed and not get up for at least a week and hope the Titan didn’t attack in that time frame.

Not a cosmic entity, Strange told him. Something else altogether. I’ll explain later.

Tony clenched his jaw, but nodded. “That’s it?” Tony asked. “That’s what you’re giving us?” It was the second time he’d asked the question, but he hadn’t liked the answer he’d gotten last time anyways. “A warning and a bond so that we’ve got ‘each other’.”

That was such bullshit.

“That’s enough,” Destiny said, voice clam. “I have started the wheels turning. If you are wise you will find that I have given you more than just a bond, but untold opportunity. If you cannot make do with what I’ve given you, then—“ They lifted their hands in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. ”—We shall all live with the consequences of that Destiny.”

Destiny sucked, Tony decided. They really, really sucked.

Agreed. But I have made do with less. As, I suspect, have you.

He had, but never against such terrifying stakes. This was the Destiny of the universe. Not just his life. Not just his loved ones. Not just his world. All of that was a mere speck against what they were facing.

It was an overwhelming feeling.

Breathe.

You breathe, Tony snapped back.

He felt a hint of amusement in the back of his head and noticed Strange taking an exaggerated breath in.

You’re a sarcastic asshole, aren’t you? Tony asked.

At risk of sounding cliche, it takes one to know one.

Destiny was watching them again, and while their was no actual change on the sculpted-like face, he got the sense that they were smiling. Which only annoyed him again at the thought that he was playing along with Destiny’s whole ‘massive plan’.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to be of any more help?” Tony asked. “Or is this the extent to which you’re getting involved?”

“I have done enough,” they answered.

Yeah, Tony hated Destiny.

Just stop trying to piss them off.

Fine.

“Well then, we thank you for your warning.” That much was true. He wasn’t sure yet what he—or he and Strange, he supposed—should do about it, yet. He needed to sit down, to think, to plan.

Thoughts of Ultron were like a cold wave of water down his back. What if he just made the same mistakes as he had in the past? What if he made worse?

“Good luck, Stephen Strange, Anthony Stark.” Went unsaid, but heard, was the ‘you’re going to need it’.

Destiny seemed to dissolve, one moment there and the next turning into mist and disappearing.

“—a question that we have no way of—“ Wong cut off as Tony and Strange both turned back towards him. “Something just happened, I presume?” He had a tired look on his face. “And based off the expressions on your faces, I presume you did not like the answers you found.”

Tony glanced at Strange who was wearing a mostly neutral expression. Tony himself knew that his poker face would put professionals to shame. So he wasn’t sure where Wong was coming to this conclusion.

He was right, of course, but Tony still wanted to know how he’d done it.

Strange took a deep breath. “Apparently there is a Mad Titan out there who intends to collect all six of the infinity stones—“ Vision straightened, ”—and destroy three-quarters of the universe. Destiny came to warn us and… level the playing field by bonding Tony and myself.”

“That is problematic,” Wong murmured, gaze drifting between Tony and Strange in contemplation.

Wong, Tony decided, had a talent for understatement.

“Perhaps, it is not so difficult a problem to solve,” Vision offered. “Eliminating a stone is the only way a to be certain that this Mad Titan cannot get it.” He lifted his hand and pressed two fingers against the mind stone in his forehead. “I think if it were exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source, something very similar to its—“

“It won’t work,” Tony interrupted. There was something about Vision talking about his possible self-destruction with such a blasé tone that had Tony wincing.

“I’ve been giving a good deal of thought to—“

“No, your method would probably work,” Tony interrupted again, though he made a note to see if Vision wanted to talk about it later, because that sounded… existential. Whether or not he and Vision were close, Tony still felt responsible for him, still included him as family, despite knowing it was a one-way feeling.

But that wasn’t what he could focus on right now. For now they had to deal with this whole ‘we can’t destroy the stones that are going to kill us all’ problem. He still didn’t have a full idea of how Maximoff’s powers worked—though he had no doubt that that was exactly the ‘energy source’ that Vision was contemplating—but he thought there was a good chance it would work. Fighting like with like and all that.

“What I meant was that Destiny made it clear that to destroy one of the stones would ‘risk the beginning of the universe’s unravelling’.” And if that wasn’t sufficiently melodramatic, then Tony didn’t know what was. Destiny seemed fond of melodrama though, so perhaps that wasn’t a surprise.

Vision paused, head tilted just slightly, an awkwardness to it that made it look more mimicked than natural. “I had not considered that possibility.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Tony muttered under his breath. “But the easy way is out.” He felt unreasonably annoyed by it. Even if it wasn’t anyone’s fault, exactly, that the stones were apparently that important. He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“We shall have to find another way,” Wong said, voice calm. “How much time do we have?” 

Tony’s frustration flared, combined with a lower, bubbling annoyance that presumably belonged to Strange. “According to the oh-so-helpful Destiny,” Tony said, unable to help the note of sarcasm in his voice. “It could be a week, a year, or a decade. Apparently time is not a huge factor for them.” Which reminded him. He turned to Strange. “And what was that about asking Time? You seemed to understand what Destiny meant when they said that.”

Strange sighed. “The Infinity Stones. One of them is Time.” He brought his hands up until they were crossed in front of the strange eye necklace he wore. He made a gesture, drawing apart his hands and Tony watched as the necklace moved, opening until a green glow was visible.

Tony wasn’t sure which emotion he felt first, intrigue or fear, but the two were quick to mix together into a confused maelstrom. “We’re screwed,” he said. “Earth is screwed.”

Strange blinked, brows furrowing. “That was… not the direction I expected you to go.”

“Mind.” Tony gestured towards Vision. “Time.” He gestured at Strange. “Space was here in the tesseract. That’s three whole stones that have been on earth.” He paused. “Oh wait, Thor said something about the aether being one of them? That makes four. Four. That have been on our one planet in the past few years. While there’s someone out there searching for them. Earth is screwed.”

They couldn’t destroy them, and something told him that hiding them wasn’t going to be easy to accomplish, if even possible. How could he have possibly prepared for this?

He ran his hand through his hair again, tugging on the strands just enough for him to actually feel it. Forcing himself to breathe before Strange could remind him to.

He was not about to have another panic attack. Nope. No more panic attacks.

Breathe.

Tony glared at Strange. If you tell me to breathe, one more time…

Strange smirked at him. You’ll what, breathe at me? I’ll stop telling you to breathe when you stop abusing your poor lungs.

“The Time stone can help us,” Strange said out loud. “It can tell us when the threat is coming, give us a better idea of how long we have to prepare.”

Well, that was at least one piece of good news to go with the whole lot of not-so-great news that the past thirty minutes had been.

“That easy?” he asked, because he couldn’t quite accept that it really would be that easy.

Strange winced. “Yes. No.” Because that was such a comprehensive answer, Tony thought wryly. “The Time stone can help us. Whether it will help us… Well, I can’t guarantee that the time stone will desire to cooperate. If it doesn’t… well, then we’ll just have to hope for the best.”

Yep, Tony had known that it was too good to be true.

“I cannot imagine that it would not cooperate,” Wong said. “While not a part of this world, the time stone is among the less ambivalent of the stones.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at that. “How do you know?”

“The time stone has been with the Masters of the Mystic Arts for many centuries. Such close proximity to humans—“

“Particularly humans whose main purpose is to protect this reality, this earth, and the people upon it,” Strange added.

”—Has, ah, ‘rubbed off’ on the stone, so to speak.”

Tony hummed at that, gaze darting to Vision. That… made a degree of sense. The scepter had been held by Hydra for a short time, likely not long enough to truly impact it, but before that, it had been held by whoever had given it to Loki. The same person, Tony assumed that had sent Loki. The same person who Tony was sure was coming for them.

Yes, he still had no definitive proof, and maybe he was on a wild goose chase, but he couldn’t help the certainty he felt that that threat was this threat.

And if he was right and the mind stone had been with the person who wanted to wipe out three-quarters of the universe… well, no wonder Ultron had become what he had.

Strange was watching him thoughtfully, and Tony didn’t even have to guess at his expression, he could feel a soft brush of consideration through the bond.

“So we just… ask the stone?” Tony asked, waving at the green glow still emanating from the necklace.

“Stephen will,” Wong answered. “He and the time stone have come to an accord with one another.”

Strange looked away, a hint of pride flushed through Tony’s chest mixed with a low-burning unease that felt faint but well worn. Past experience tainting the ‘accord’? Or did he trust the stone less than he made it sound?

I trust the stone plenty. Stop analyzing me, Strange told him, frustrating bubbling up again.

Right, shields still weren’t reinforced.

“I will,” Strange agreed with Wong. There was a moment of silence where all three of them—Wong, Tony and Vision—watched Strange expectantly. Strange sighed. “Right now, I suppose.”

“Excellent. Because if this is happening in a week, I’d rather know now.”

“A fair point,” Strange agreed. He settled down in his chair, crossing his legs and closing his eyes.

Tony found himself staring, waiting to see what would happen.

You’re distracting me. Don’t stare. Go meditate… or something. Fix your shields so you’re no longer in my head.

Tony looked away, flushing a little. He turned away, purposefully moving to a chair and settling himself the same way Strange was settled to meditate and do as Strange had suggested and fix his shields.

Hello, Stephen.

Tony jerked in his seat. He almost slammed his head into the bookshelves behind him he flailed so hard at the low, deep voice echoing in the back of his head.

“Mr. Stark?” Vision asked, voice concerned.

And Stephen’s bonded, the voice added, almost amused.

I am not his bonded, Tony retorted automatically, not even sure if he was going to be heard, but unable to stop himself. It made him sound like he and Strange were going to get married, or something.

Well, Strange said, technically you are. Even if I agree with you, I prefer we not use that term.

The term is accurate. I despise inaccuracies.

Well, that was fair enough.

I see Destiny has touched you, Time continued. I do not like it when my things are touched.

There as a flush of embarrassment from Strange. I’m not your thing.

You are my chosen human, Time said, clearly unbothered by Strange’s disagreement. Thus you are mine.

Tony couldn’t help but smirk a little. Sucked to be Strange. Got claimed by a stone.

I would not be so quick to judge, soul maker, Time said in what was absolutely the least reassuring thing it could have said.

Strange apparently decided that the best way to deal with the whole thing was to ignore it completely. Tony approved. Destiny said that Stark and I needed to be bound together to aid us in defeating the Mad Titan who wishes to destroy three-quarters of the universe.

An inaccuracy. Time sounded annoyed. He wishes to destroy half. That was still plenty awful. In his foolishness, however, he will destroy far more. I suppose an approximation of three-quarters is enough to suffice.

So not only did they have a Mad Titan with genocidal desires, but a Mad Titan with genocidal desires who didn’t understand the idea of ripple effects and that actions had consequences.

Just the sort of thing they needed, really.

So do we need to be bonded or not? Tony asked. Was Destiny wrong about that?

Sure, its wasn’t the most important detail right now, but Tony was slightly peeved about it, still.

The Time stone was quiet for a moment and when they spoke they sounded… reluctant. Destiny’s plan may have some merit. There are many possibilities. Too many, and too varied, to be of use to you now to know.

Tony frowned. 

Strange sighed. Are you saying that there’s a way in which we win and you won’t tell us?

There are many ways in which you may win, Time said. To tell you could change that. Your actions will change as you learn, altering the future, potentially destroying the very outcome you are attempting to create.

Tony hated that there was some degree of a point to that answer. Was it such a bad thing that he just wanted an answer? Wanted to know that there was a way for them to save the universe without having to stumble in the dark and potentially make things worse?

Though, it was some sort of macabre consolation that it was pretty hard to get to worse than the death of three-quarters of the universe. 

Very encouraging.

Tony really, really hated this.

Chapter Text

How long do we have? Stephen asked the time stone, voice remarkably steady.

Tony was grateful that at least one of them was focusing on the important bits. Tony’s brain was a little too busy hating the whole situation. Which, bad Tony, focus on the important things. Panic could come later when it wouldn’t interfere with the task of gathering necessary information. Tony couldn’t run the equation if he didn’t have all the pieces.

Less than a year, Time said. The time your society has designated as ‘May’.

Panic surged, sharp and violent, taking his breath away. May. He couldn’t— That was— May. Panic spiked. It wasn’t just his. Strange’s panic twined with his own, both of their fear bolstering the other’s, creating a tsunami of panic that both he and Strange were trapped under.

Breathe, Strange said, the word tremulous in his mind, as much for Tony as for Strange.

Hypocrite, Tony snarked back, but the words served as a distraction from the panic that, if he wasn’t careful, would cause another little panic attack. Tony preferred to avoid those. I felt that freak out.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, Strange said primly. I have complete and utter control. It was true that Strange maintained his physical reactions superbly, but Tony could feel the panic on the inside.

Of course you do.

Eh, hem. Time caught both of their attention again. If we could focus on the matter on hand, Time said, sounding entirely unimpressed with the both of them. It was actually impressive how much condescension a stone could manage. Tony wanted to give them bonus points.

What can you tell us? Strange asked. You can’t tell us how to win, but surely you can give us more than just a timeline?

Time didn’t answer immediately. The Mad Titan will send first his children and then his armies, should you withstand them, you will be left to face the Mad Titan with all the force he can bring to bear. Should nothing change, power will be in his hands, reality within his grasp, soul at his mercy, and space his to command.

Shit.

Was there any good news in that? Four infinity stones. While they’d have a measly two. Two he wasn’t sure how well they could control in the first place. Strange seemed to have a solid grasp on the Time stone, but Strange had also had a point a few days ago when he’d said that Vision was inexperienced. The ‘overpowered child’ part had maybe been a little harsh, but the point still stood. He glanced at Wong and Vision who were both watching him and Stephen intently. Could Strange train Vision? Bring him up to snuff in the next less-than-a-year that they had? It was mid August, which meant they had between eight-and-a-half to nine-and-a-half months.

Vision was untrained now, but he was bright, capable, and Strange and Wong seemed more than competent. Surely something could be done?

That’d help; it’d at least be something.

Even with that… it was their two versus the Mad Titan’s four… that wasn’t promising.

And that was even if they managed to survive that long.

Because before the Mad Titan was his armies. And wasn’t that just great. Because Tony just loved when armies were involved. Armies were just so fun to try to deal with when they were fighting as nothing more than individuals. Tony had enough experience with US politics to know that he wasn’t going to have a convenient army of his own to help him. They’d already proved they wouldn’t believe him about the threat that was coming. And his new insight wasn’t going to help, because then they’d have to accept that magical stones that embodied the different aspects of existence were real and apparently powerful enough to wipe out half the universe.

He would be a laughing stock if he even tried. Tony wasn’t in the mood for that.

Though, admittedly somehow both of those thoughts were taking a back seat to the mention of children. Who in the world decided to procreate with someone who wanted to wipe out half of all sentience??? That just seemed… well, he supposed what they said was true: there really was someone for everyone.

They are the children that he has ‘saved’ from the planets where he has wiped out half of all civilization, raised to be devoted to him and his goals, Time informed him, clearly having picked up on his thoughts despite Tony doing his best not to broadcast them. Kidnapped kids, kidnapped kids who were probably majorly brainwashed and were undoubtedly very, very dangerous—zealots always were—now that they were no longer actual kids. That was so comforting. He was just finding more and more reasons to hate this Mad Titan.

Stephen let out a hum, low and thoughtful. And this is all set in stone?

Nothing is set in stone, Time countered. Destiny has placed themselves in your hands. Because that wasn’t even the slightest bit intimidating. No really. It was fine. The inevitability of the Mad Titan’s plans has been undone, reality shifted to create new possibilities, a future diverted so that another could potentially take its place.

Right. So no pressure.

Any other useful tidbits you can hand out? Tony asked. Given, you know, the stakes at hand, a little more help could be nice.

Time didn’t answer immediately and Tony exchanged glanced with Strange, wondering if Strange had a better idea of what the silence might mean than Tony did.

Strange pursed his lips and shook his head.

There is always a price, Time said finally, he sounded… almost regretful. There is no path that leads to victory where that price can not be paid.

A chill ran down Tony’s back, fear curdled in his chest, spreading horror to the very edges of his soul. What do you mean? What price?

You will know it when the time comes, Time said. And of the many paths you take, this is a price you must pay, for any chance at victory. The words were an echo of his early admonition, as though Time knew that when the time came, they would do anything to find another way. But that there was no other way. Tony really didn’t like the sound of that.

The words didn’t answer Tony’s question at all, only intensified the fear that had taken root in his chest. A different, heavier anxiety twisted in his chest, a fear, not of the unknown as Tony’s was, but of what had already been. Tony focused on Strange. Strange’s cheeks had lost color—not that Strange had had much to begin with—fear lurking behind those blue eyes.

Strange’s gaze sought his out, and Tony could see in Strange’s face the weight of ugly experience. Strange, Tony realized, was no stranger to paying impossible prices. Curiosity tugged at him—what had Strange been through?—but Tony wasn’t an idiot, now wasn’t the right time to ask. Given how little he and Strange truly knew each other, there might never be a right time to ask.

Strange looked away and Tony followed his lead.

We’ll pay whatever price necessary, Strange said.

Time sighed. You will not find it so easy, Time told them. There is one last thing I can give you. Immortality is as terrible as it is beautiful. Tony had the strangest sensation of eyes on him—how was that possible when Time had no eyes?—and knew that these words were meant for him. You have sought all your life to be your own creation, for your strength to be only that which you could give yourself. Tony’s breath caught at his own thoughts—so rarely put into words, even for himself—were laid bare. Destiny seeks to forge you into something more, but you must forge yourself as well.

Forge himself.

Remake himself.

Is… is that the price? he asked, even knowing as he asked, that it couldn’t be. Tony might not like the suggestion, might dread the very possibility of it, but he’d… he’d already known, hadn’t he? That he wasn’t enough as he was. This bond with Strange might be meant to ‘give them what they needed,’ but… but that wasn’t enough. Tony wasn’t enough, not as he was.

Strange’s gaze bored into him, carrying a physical weight to it, expectation, curiosity, an uncertain dawning, as though Strange understood the shift in the tides, even if he couldn’t decipher the source of that shift.

Tony took a deep breath and met Strange’s gaze. Something soft brushed against him, a caress against the fear in his chest, as though Strange could soothe the fear the way one might a frightened animal. Pity? Tony wondered. Or was this the compassion Tony had never truly understood?

No, Time answered. It is nothing more or less than what you make of it.

The words brought no comfort. Because this was the end of the universe—three-quarters of all life, gone, vanished—Tony couldn’t exactly go around ignoring the advice from the embodiment of Time itself when it was handing out helpful hints to let them save everything.

Thank you, Strange said. We won’t fail.

Good luck, Time said. Time keeper, soul maker. Just like when Destiny had said it, Tony got the sense of ‘you’re going to need it’ behind the words.

He’d really appreciate if the different aspects of reality and cosmic entities stopped making everything sound so grim.

For a moment, silence pressed down around them, then Strange cleared his throat. “Well,” he said outlaid. “That was… informative.”

Wong and Vision startled at the break in silence. How long had Tony and Strange been in communication with time? Given it was time they’d been talking to, Tony didn’t actually have any guarantee that it had spanned the same amount of time it had felt like it had.

“You have answers, then?” Wong asked. “How much time do we have?”

Strange rubbed at his face; Tony’s hands twinged, the pain exacerbating for a moment. “May,” he said. “The Mad Titan attacks in May.”

Wong nodded slowly. “We have had more pressing deadlines,” he said. “This one is not so terrible.”

“Well, that’s one way to look at it,” Tony said, amused despite himself. But then, Tony supposed it was true. Every other emergency he’d been in had required a fair amount of ‘planning on the fly’ and ‘hoping for the best’. Sure, Tony did pretty well in emergency situations, but that didn’t make it the optimal way to deal with threats.

“What else?” Wong asked.

Strange sighed, before recounting the rest of the conversation, starting with the threat—the children, the armies, the Mad Titan himself carrying four infinity stones—and moving on to the talk of a ‘price’ that needed to be paid. That same twisting anxiety accompanied the words. Strange paused there, glancing at Tony for a second. “And of course, Time also called Stark a soul maker, which seems pertinent.”

It took Tony a moment to realize that Strange had completely skipped over mentioning Time’s ‘advice’ to Tony. Relief filled him. Tony had to figure that out, himself, before he had other people coming in with their own opinions and suggestions.

“Doesn’t mean anything to me,” Tony said, trying desperately not to think about the most obvious meaning.

Vision completely missed that cue. “Given our current circumstances, it would seem plausible that you contain some attachment to the Soul stone,” he offered ‘helpfully’.

“Ya think?” Tony asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

“It does seem logical,” Vision responded, completely missing the sarcasm. Of course he had.

Strange sent him an amused look, the feeling bubbling its way past the exhaustion and fear that had been radiating from Strange since Time had mentioned a price that needed to be paid. “Yes, Stark,” Strange agreed. “It does seem logical.”

Tony rolled his eyes, focusing on his exasperation to make sure Strange didn’t miss it. Strange was not as funny as he thought he was. “Doesn’t help us, anyways,” Tony pointed out. “Unlike you and Vision I’ve got no access to the soul stone, even if that is true. Which we don’t know, no matter how ‘logical’ it might be.”

The expression on everyone else’s face—including Vision’s—meant that they all disagreed entirely. “Denial will do us no good,” Wong said, ignoring Tony’s point entirely. “For Destiny and Time to have both titled you so, is something we cannot ignore. And it is possible, though perhaps difficult, that such a connection will enable us to find the Soul stone.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “Chances of that?” he asked.

“High,” Strange answered before Wong could. “Difficult, yes, but high. Such connections, once made, are… cosmic, so to speak, they weave themselves into the patterns of reality.”

Tony frowned. “Destiny again?” he asked. He didn’t think he liked Destiny very much.

“No.” Strange shook his head. “Something like this… something like this is choice. Both on our part and the stones’ part. Some of the Kamar Taj philosophers say that the combination of those choices rewrites the universe completely, though on a measure so infinitesimal that it would be impossible for us to actually detect.”

“I didn’t make any choices,” Tony said. “So that—”

“Perhaps not knowingly,” Strange conceded. “But somewhere in time, you reached for soul and soul reached back.”

Yeah, Tony doubted that. He hadn’t even really believed in souls before this whole situation with his and Strange’s souls binding themselves together.

Strange rolled his eyes. “Yes, you did.”

“Excuse you?” Tony asked, a little bit offended and a lot a bit annoyed. “I’m pretty sure I know what I believed far more than you do, no matter how inside my head you are, right now.” Which reminded him that he needed to meditate to get Strange as far out of his head as he was able.

“Just because you’ve used different terminology to appease your own sense of scientific integrity—” Strange rolled his eyes, clearly considering Tony an idiot, for that, “—doesn’t erase the fact that you do and did believe in souls.”

Seriously? Was Strange seriously trying to tell Tony what Tony believed. The sheer arrogance was a little astounding, actually. “I did not believe—”

“JARVIS,” Strange retorted. “Tell me he wasn’t alive. You forget, I was in your head, long enough, anyways.”

Tony’s retort died on his tongue. “That’s not—” Except it was, wasn’t it? Perhaps they weren’t the words Tony would have ever used, but if pressed into it—if forced to acknowledge the existence of souls or to deny JARVIS his sentience—then, sure, he supposed he’d choose to believe in something as inane as souls. Strange, who had seen more about how Tony felt about JARVIS and what he’d been to Tony than Tony wanted to really think about—more than Tony ever had or ever would show anyone else—would know that.

He looked away from Strange, taking in the bookshelves with feigned interest—wooden shelves, leather books, pretty much what would be expected from a wizard’s lair library—so he didn’t have to take in the smug satisfaction on Strange’s face at winning the argument. “Whatever,” Tony said, hoping his tone came out just as mulish as he currently felt.

Exasperation spilled through their bond.

If Tony took pleasure in that exasperation than that was for him to know… and Strange. But he doubted Strange was entirely surprised. They’d been stuck together for long enough for Strange to have figured that out. Hell, Tony had practically said it that first night. Tony excelled at being aggravating and took some measure of pride from it.

“As fascinating as Stark’s unknowing belief in souls is,” Wong said, clearly not fascinated in the slightest. “It is hardly where our focus should be, at the moment.”

“Right,” Tony agreed. “We’ve got preparations to make.” He put his hands to his knees and pushed up as he stood; he brushed off his slacks, ignoring their pristine state, to better present a facade of complete composure and control. “I need to run some equations, figure out what resources I can bring to the table, etcetera, etcetera. How about we set up a planning session for later.”

Suspicion slid into the bond. Or something like it, anyways. Tony pointedly ignored Strange entirely. Trying to focus on his next immediate steps—which centered entirely on meditating to get Strange back out of his head—and not the rest of the things swirling through his mind.

Wong startled for a moment, then nodded. “It would be wise for Stephen and I to do the same,” he acknowledged. “It would not do to plan when we are uncertain of what resources we can draw on.”

Tony felt a wave of relief. A part of him had worried that Wong or Strange would demand that they plan now. Tony had too much going on in his own mind, right now, to have that conversation.

“Great.” He turned to Strange, shifting a little at the scrutinization in Strange’s eyes. “Portal?” he asked. “I’ve got things to do.”

Strange hummed a little, then nodded. He slid on the nifty ring he carried around and opened a portal, ignoring Wong’s exasperated, “not in the library,” as he gestured for Tony and Vision to step through.

Tony did gratefully, Vision following behind him. The sound of the portal shutting behind him eased the tension in his shoulders, away from prying eyes.

“If you have need of me?” Vision asked. “I would gladly help in your preparations.”

Tony shook his head. “It’s good, Vision. We can talk later, do some planning together, but I need to figure out a few things, first.”

Vision nodded to him, heading towards the lab door.

“Great,” Tony said to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging a little as though that would loosen the hold the thoughts in his head had on him. “This is just great.”

“So—”

Tony startled, whirling around to find Strange leaning against a table. Tony hadn’t realized that Strange had followed him through the portal before shutting it. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked. “We’re not planning, right now, which frankly, means that we don’t have anything to talk about right now either.”

Strange shrugged. “I decided I’d rather have the conversation we’re having next before you meditate and lock me out of your mind.” An amused smile that didn’t match Strange’s emotions crossed Strange’s face. “You did already acknowledge that you possess quite the expertise in lying; I’d prefer we avoid you trying.”

Tony glared at him. “You’re seriously using our bond against me?”

Strange hesitated a moment, then sighed. “You should have remembered to meditate,” he said, as though that was a proper excuse. “And as much as I’d prefer not to, I don’t currently trust you not to lie to me. We don’t have time for that, so yes, I’m taking advantage.”

“We have nine months.”

Strange just arched an eyebrow.

Yeah, Tony didn’t want to waste any of that time, either, but that didn’t make him any more eager for the conversation, either. “Beyond that, I don’t feel like having this conversation—whatever this conversation is—with you,” Tony said. “And you can’t make me, either.”

“I can’t,” Strange agreed. “Something tells me that making you do something you don’t want to do would be far from easy.” He pushed forward regardless. “Persuading you, however, is another matter entirely.” Yeah, not a chance. “What did the Time stone mean, Stark?”

His mind moved automatically to Extremis, but he did his best to drown it out with thoughts on cold fusion—it had sort of worked before, after all.

Strange winced. “That’s not going to make me disappear, Stark.”

Different tactic, Tony decided. Because two could play this game, and Tony had never minded turning the tables on someone. “What price did you pay?” Tony asked. “When Time talked about a price we’d have to pay, it was pretty obvious that you have experience with impossible prices, so what was it?”

“Tit for tat?” Strange asked, annoyance and amusement mixed in Tony’s chest. “Mine isn’t relevant to our current dilemma. There’s no point in addressing it. I don’t imagine the price I paid has any connection to whatever price we will have to pay. Your little secret, does.”

“I could be wrong about Time’s advice anyways,” Tony said. “No point in addressing it, either. Not until I’m sure.”

“You don’t think you’re wrong,” Strange said. “You wouldn’t be so on edge if you did.”

Tony grimaced. Because that was bond insight, not something Tony could stop from giving away. “It’s not your business until I make it yours,” Tony deflected. “Should it become pertinent, obviously, I’d let you know.” Because he was pretty sure it would hurt like hell, and he wouldn’t put Strange through that without some warning.

“Stark,” Strange started. He sighed, running a hand over his face. Exhaustion leaked through him. “Fine,” he said. “Tit for tat.”

He turned, moving to Tony’s couch at the back of the lab.

Tony hesitated—nothing could stop him from leaving, the door was right there—but he found himself following Strange.

Strange had taken a seat on the couch, settled so that he was facing the opposite end where he clearly expected Tony to sit.

Tony frowned at him, but sat, sinking a little into the comfortable cushions. He crossed his arms, giving Strange his most expectant look. Well, he pushed at Strange. Go on.

Strange hesitated, then nodded. “After my accident I fell into depression. Surgery after surgery did no good, and I had given up hope of ever getting my hands back, of ever getting into the operation room again. At my lowest point, I learned of a man who had been paralyzed suddenly walking; I searched him out and was given the name Kamar Taj, somewhere in Kathmandu. I made it to Kamar Taj shortly after,” Strange started explaining. Tony had no idea what this had to do with anything, but he figured Strange would get there eventually. “It took me a while to make any progress, but once I did… once I did, I learned with what I’ve been told was remarkable speed.” His tone was wry, and a bubble of bitter amusement flickered in Tony’s chest. “Of course, I didn’t learn the most important thing to me, at the time. I couldn’t figure out how to heal my hands.” Strange looked away. “And for a short time, I didn’t particularly care, there was so much to learn and that is, admittedly, a weakness of mine.”

Tony related, wasn’t that part of how he’d gotten to this point in the first place?

“The peace… it didn’t last. Six months after I arrived in Kamar Taj, there was an attack by a group of zealots intent on allowing an inter dimensional being called Dormammu into our dimension. He would have consumed all of earth, sending us into a place where time did not exist and where we would all be subsumed into Dormamu’s realm, slowly warped into something unspeakable.”

Tony frowned. Yeah, he didn’t like the sound of this.

“During the second to last attack, my mentor was killed. But before she died, she told me just how to heal my hands. But I had to choose. I could either continue practicing the mystic arts, or I could regain my hands.” Strange looked down at his hands, a sort of resignation in his chest. Strange had chosen magic, obviously, but Tony could see that, even now, Strange wondered.

Given the pain that lingered in Tony’s own hands, he couldn’t blame Strange for wondering at his choice. Tony didn’t think he regretted it, but the two weren’t necessarily synonymous.

“That was your price.”

Strange sighed. “That was the beginning. Dormammu needed to be stopped, and I could choose… I could choose the world or I could choose my own life.”

Tony frowned, because… “You’re here,” he said. “Very much alive, as evidenced by our current situation. And earth is still in one piece, last I checked, time moving on as normal…”

“Dormammu was a being out of time,” Strange continued. “And I was in possession of the time stone. Dormammu wanted to consume our realm, so I brought a little of our world into his domain and forced him to experience it. I created… a loop.”

Horror filled Tony, understanding coming in a flash. “You know what,” he said. “I don’t actually need this story.” He stood. “Keep your secrets.”

“I died,” Strange continued, tone demanding that Tony listen. “I died, over and over, for centuries.”

Tony closed his eyes, felt Strange’s pain in his chest, the horror he’d never truly quelled, the weary exhaustion of carrying that nightmare on his shoulders. “Strange…”

“You wanted to know what the price was,” Strange said. “Death. Nightmares. Pain you can’t possibly conceive of.”

Tony swallowed hard. “Strange—”

“So,” Strange continued. “I paid the price, and I kept the world safe. Does that satisfy your need to know?”

Tony felt bile in his throat, could taste it on the back of his tongue. He hadn’t wanted to know that. He really hadn’t wanted to know any of that. “You didn’t have to tell me any of that,” he said. “I’d have explained eventually.”

“We don’t have eventually, Stark,” Strange said, tone sharp and emotions ragged. That exposure, for all Strange’s tone had never wavered, had cost Strange. “Excuse me if I’m prioritizing the universe over either your or my comfort.”

And what was Tony even supposed to say to that?

Tony turned back, sitting down again. Where was he supposed to start? How was Tony supposed to explain something so… beautiful, so terrible. “Do you remember the terrorist attacks in 2013? The suicide bombers?”

The president had covered up almost the entirety of the truth, deeming it too dangerous for the world to know about. As far as the world was concerned, Aldrich Killian had died in one of those terrorist attacks and the mysterious Mandarin and his suicide bombers had been behind it all. James Rhodes and Tony Stark had ended the threat, as far as the world at large was concerned… just not the threat they’d truly faced.

Tony hadn’t approved of the lies—the fear-mongering had worried him, after how much work he’d put into international relationships—but it had been a presidential edict. Rhodey had agreed and Tony had kept his silence.

Strange frowned. “The Mandarin. You’re saying that wasn’t real?”

“It was a cover,” Tony said. “A scientist named Maya Hansen had created a formula that could rebuild on a cellular level, essentially rewriting DNA to allow for instant regeneration. Entire limbs could be regrown.”

Strange stared at him, wonder in his eyes. “That’s incredible,” he whispered. “The potential, the possibilities, she could have changed the world.”

Tony pursed his lips. “Her serum was both unstable and incredibly addictive,” Tony said. “Nor was it compatible with everyone. Most of her test subjects experienced internal combustion. Those who survived the initial injection… well, they were ticking time bombs. If they lost control…”

“Suicide bombers,” Strange realized, either putting the pieces together or picking them up from Tony’s mind.

“Killian realized this was a problem and created the Mandarin to explain the deaths. Maya… I had helped her, once, back in 1999, I was drunk at the time, and when I woke up after sex I… I fixed her formula. Not entirely, but I took her to the next step.” Tony rubbed at his eyes. “And when she spent the next fifteen years trying to finish the formula, she became convinced that I’d be able to do it. After all, I’d done it once. Killian hated me for… other reasons.” Let Strange pick that up from his thoughts, if he wanted, but Tony wasn’t going into that. “He tried to kill me, at one point.” Strange probably remembered the news of Tony’s mansion being blown up. “And when I survived, decided that Maya was right and he could use me. He… he kidnapped then injected Pepper to ‘motivate’ me to fix the formula.”

Strange inhaled sharply. He did seem the type to hate the thought of innocents used as bargaining chips. Most people did, of course, but… well, Strange was a doctor, that came with a respect for life that not everyone had within them.

“I killed Killian and his soldiers, stabilized the formula, and saved Pepper.” Tony shrugged. “And then… then I couldn’t let it go, because Extremis… the potential was there. And I never was very good at stopping myself from pushing for better.” He sent Strange a tired smile. “My own weakness. So, I tinkered with it, stripped it down to its very core and then filled it out, figured out how to do more than just stabilize what Maya had, but to… to bring it to its full potential.”

He didn’t quite know how to put the next part into words, but Strange did it for him. “Immortality,” he said. “The body rewritten to stay at a state of optimum health, to regenerate after every injury, to rewrite even the need to age.”

Tony sighed, then nodded. “I couldn’t… that’s not something I could share,” he said. “That’s not something that’s safe to bring into the world. It was… it was dangerous. So I locked it away. I don’t even know if I would survive the injection. I didn’t exactly do any testing on it. Maybe… maybe I’m wrong about what it could do.”

Strange stared at him, and Tony could see his mind racing with all of the implications. “Immortality is as terrible as it is beautiful,” he said, Time’s words coming from Strange’s lips sent horror crawling down Tony’s spine, because Tony knew exactly where Strange was going with it. Tony didn’t want to face that. “I think we both know it would work. And I think we both know that your system is compatible with Extremis. Time wouldn’t suggest it, otherwise.”

That about summed up Tony’s terror. Because he’d managed immortality in a bottle and then hidden it away because the very thought of it terrified him… and now Time itself pushed him toward that terrible possibility. “I don’t want to live forever,” he whispered. He’d killed several Extremis soldiers with a blast to the heart, but with his serum… he wasn’t sure even that would kill him, with the regeneration he would be capable of, a heart remade before the mind even felt the pain of it. “I don’t want to be anything more than what I’ve always been.” He stared at his hands. There was a scar on his thumb from an accident when he was a kid. Small burn marks from when he’d been reckless in the workshop. Little signs of his human frailty. “I never wanted to reach some ‘pinnacle of humanity’.”

Because if he did, was he even still human? Humanity was as much their strengths as they were their weaknesses. He might not have liked what he’d seen when he looked in the mirror, but at least he could look and know he was… human. If he made this choice, would he ever be able to do that again?

At least he could rest assured that he would stay a psychological mess, Extremis couldn’t fix that; the attempt at humor fell flat even in his own mind.

“Do you have a choice?” Strange asked, tone quiet. Tony couldn’t quite decipher what emotion Strange was experiencing. Or maybe Tony’s own emotions were such a mess that Strange’s couldn’t penetrate. He looked up, tried to read the emotion in Strange’s eyes, instead. Sympathy, maybe, regret. But it didn’t erase the determination. “This isn’t… it’s not about you, Stark.”

Tony closed his eyes, exhaustion heavy in his chest. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Tony excelled at the art of procrastination, always had. It had driven Obie crazy. It still drove Pepper crazy. Tony had always gotten things done by the time it mattered. Which, really, that should count for something, even if everyone else disagreed. So, procrastination. Tony could go professional.

Something told him that Strange didn’t really put up with procrastination. Unfortunate.

They hadn’t talked about it, since the conversation two days ago when Strange had followed him into the lab—Tony suspected that wouldn’t last past their next planning session, looming over them—but Strange just had the vibe of someone who didn’t appreciate the art of waiting until the last moment.

Admittedly, with their stakes, waiting until the last moment was…

Dumb.

Yeah, it was dumb, and Tony tried not to make a habit of making dumb decisions.

Tony sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. He leaned back in his seat to stare up at the ceiling. White. How boring. What had Tony been thinking when he’d designed the place? Red was maybe a little much, but a nice blue wouldn’t have been too much to ask, right?

Hmm. He could probably hire someone to come do that. Or hey, Tony could do that himself. It would be boring as hell, but it would keep Tony busy for a while.

For some reason, Tony didn’t think it would do anything to keep his mind busy. Which meant all Tony would be doing would be overthinking the situation while simultaneously making a mess of the compound. Something told him Vision and Rhodey—as well as everyone else who came in and out of the compound—wouldn’t appreciate the redecorating.

For a moment he focused on his bond with Strange, trying to determine what emotions Strange was feeling right now. Something bright lit his chest. He considered it a moment, turning it around in his mind. Fascination, he decided. The steady underscore was familiar, Strange was concentrating deeply on something. A warmth over his shoulders took him a moment longer, contentedness.

If he had to guess, Strange was in the library, studying something interesting. Tony had spent enough time in that library, sitting across from Strange as they both read, trying to find answer to what was happening to them, that he could picture it perfectly.

The cloak would be draped over Strange’s shoulders—or perhaps floating through the shelves, content that their bearer was safe—while Strange’s head would be bowed over a book. There would be a furrow in his brow, giving Strange a solemn aura. His scarred fingers would brush over the words on the page, as though soaking them in, just before he turned the page and continued.

Tony blinked, pulling himself out of the mental image. He hadn’t quite realized he’d paid that much attention to Strange. He’d been busy doing his own studying, after all. The image lingered in the back of his mind, almost comforting in a way Tony couldn’t figure out. 

He took a deep breath, focusing on the way the air filled his lungs and forced his thoughts away from Strange—the distraction had, perhaps, been too distracting—and back to the issue he didn’t actually want to think about. He rubbed at his chest, remembering those years when breathing too deeply had hurt, between the arc in his chest and the other damage he’d taken. He’d pinched a lung more than once.

Did not recommend.

But he’d fixed that.

He’d taken Extremis. Once. The nice, watered down version that had helped him get the arc reactor out of his chest without killing him, but had faded away, unable to sustain itself. It had left a bitter taste on his tongue, as though Killian had gotten in a final laugh at Tony, some subtle victory that Killian had had over Tony, even from beyond the grave.

Tony had remade Extremis now, had stripped Killian’s touch thoroughly from it. Hell, even Maya’s original work was more a concept he’d built off of than a foundation. The thought made him grimace. Yeah, that sounded arrogant.

Didn’t stop it from being true.

You should meditate. Strange’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts; Tony instinctively jumped, glancing around the room as though Strange would appear through one of his portals at any moment. Your shields are fraying. Again.

Tony winced. Right, sorry. How much did you get this time?

Killian didn’t win, Strange answered. In fact, I suspect that Killian rolled in his grave at having done anything to make your life better.

Tony sighed. Right, I’ll meditate.

Thank you.

Strange didn’t say anything else, and Tony looked around the room. There were no tables convenient for him to hide under. He slid off the chair, though, settling on the ground and mimicking the pose he remembered Bruce using. Bruce had invited Tony to meditate with him a few times. Tony had done it twice before he’d realized he was getting nothing out of the experience, unable to settle his mind enough.

Bruce had laughed when Tony had admitted defeat; he hadn’t seemed offended when Tony had declined the next invitation. Tony suspected a part of Bruce appreciated not having to deal with Tony fidgeting next to him the whole time.

If Bruce ever came back, Tony would have to show him his new and improved meditation skills. Bruce would hardly believe it. He smiled at the thought, before letting it go and turning back to actually trying to meditate instead of just thinking about it.

Tony focused on creating the armor in his mind, Mark II, the one that had changed everything. Because Mark I had gotten him out of the cave, but Mark II had been the moment he’d started on the path to changing. He fell into the pattern, and slowly the other thoughts stilled, the anxiety in his chest easing away. It was natural, then, to segue into his shields, reaching for the best part of the suit. JARVIS. The coding that he’d used as the base of his shields was still intact—Protect creator. Designation: Sir—but Tony worked on the firewalls, the bits and pieces that protected that core shield.

Something touched his leg and Tony jerked, eyes flying open as he pushed away from the touch, hand reaching automatically for his gauntlet watch.

He froze, taking in his ‘attacker’. Rhodey stood in front of him, looking down at him in amusement. He’d nudged Tony with his foot. “What in the world are you doing on the ground, Tony?”

Tony blinked. His brain felt a little foggy, still in that state of steady focus and strange calm. “Right.” He pushed himself to his feet, groaning a little as his body protested. “I was meditating. What in the world are you doing back? Weren’t you in those reinstatement meetings until Thursday?”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “It is Thursday,” he said.

Tony wrinkled his nose. Was it really? “Right,” he repeated. “Well, good to see you back. You’re going to hate everything I have to tell you.”

“Hate, huh?” Rhodey looked unconvinced. “Did you put cupholders in the newest leg braces? Because I’ve told you, I do not need the cupholders.”

Tony waved his hand. “Oh, no, that would be mildly annoying. I’m talking deep-seated hatred with the bonus of mind-numbing fear.”

Rhodey went still, gaze searching Tony’s face as though he might catch sight of a joke. “You’re being serious,” he said finally. “What in the world happened in the last week?” His eyes narrowed. “And why didn’t you call me.”

“Because it wasn’t urgent, urgent,” Tony said. “Nothing you could have done about it, and I knew you were coming back in a few days.” And, admittedly, the first few days he’d been so distracted by what was going on with Strange, that it hadn’t actually occurred to him to reach out to Rhodey, but Tony wasn’t admitting to that. “But we’ve got a planning session at the end of the week.”

“We’ve?”

“Me, Vision, Wong, and Strange,” Tony said. “And you, obviously, because there’s no way I’m not getting you involved.”

Rhodey rubbed at his forehead. “Who in the world are Wong and Strange?” he asked. “Have you been making friends while I was gone?” He looked skeptical, probably because Tony didn’t exactly make friends. He had, after all, rather notoriously been labeled ‘doesn’t play well with others’.

“Oh, met my soulmate,” Tony said. “Or something like that.”

Hey. Tony poked at Strange. Want to freak Rhodey out?

Strange responded almost immediately. Why would I want to do that?

“Your soulmate?” Rhodey asked. “You met a girl?”

Tony scoffed at that, so narrow-minded, Rhodey. “No. I did not.”

He focused back on persuading Strange. Because you are secretly a drama queen, Tony said, using his ‘reasonable’ tone. And because one time in college, Rhodey tricked me into watching a horror movie and then hid under my bed and did little scrabbling sounds on the bed frame. I didn’t sleep for a week. I never did get him back for that.

Amusement spilled through him. Well, if it’s to let you satisfy a grudge from three decades ago…

I was fifteen! Tony defended. It was mentally scarring.

He could practically feel Strange’s laughter, warm in his chest.

Behind Rhodey, the flicker of flame appeared, growing into a portal.

“Okay, so we’ve got deep-seated hatred, mind-numbing fear, and your soulmate.” The last word was said with obvious skepticism. “Why does this sound like the beginning of a joke?”

“Unlikely,” Strange said, stepping through the portal, the cloak flaring wide in a particularly dramatic fashion. Rhodey jerked around, nearly falling backward at the sight of Strange in his full glory. “Stark’s not that funny.”

Rhodey’s hand came up as though aiming with a repulsor before he realized he wasn’t in the suit. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

By the way, Tony added. I told Rhodey you’re my soulmate.

A flicker of amusement crossed Strange’s expression. “Stark’s soulmate,” he responded, going along with it. “One might way Destiny themself bound us together.”

Which was actually true. Bonded they were, soulmates they were not.

Rhodey just stared at Strange for a moment, before he whirled on Tony. “What the hell, Tony?”

Tony shrugged. “Told you I found my soulmate.”

”He’s—“ Rhodey waved at Strange. “And there’s—” He did the wave-y thing again. “What is going on?”

Tony sighed. “Look. Can we acknowledge that Strange’s ability to open a portal into our compound is a sign that maybe there are a few unbelievable things out there?”

Rhodey narrowed his eyes, but nodded. “I’ll bite.”

“And that two of those unbelievable things are cosmic beings like Destiny and sentient aspects of existence like Time?”

Rhodey arched an eyebrow. “You’re right, I’m feeling a lot of deep-seated hatred right now, because that sounds absolutely fantastical, but you’re wearing your ‘I’m dead serious’ expression right now, which means that—at the very least—you believe the words you just said. Having said that, I assume you’re about to get to the part that’ll bring about the mind-numbing fear.”

“Well,” Tony continued. “Between Destiny and Time, Strange and I got a nice little warning about the death and destruction of three-quarters of the universe about nine months from now.”

Rhodey just stared at him. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead, as though stemming off a headache, and muttered something under his breath. He dropped his hand and stared at Tony some more, gaze desperately searching for the joke.

Tony arched an eyebrow.

Rhodey moved to the seat that Tony had vacated and fell down into it with an exhausted sigh. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

Tony glanced at Strange to see if he wanted to contribute, but Strange just moved to a second chair and settled into it, waving for Tony to talk. Tony made a face at him. Strange had shown up—at Tony’s request, sure, but he’d still shown up—he could at least help.

Tony took a deep breath and started. He skimmed over the bit about the wishes—Rhodey didn’t need to know about Strange’s loneliness, or Tony’s supposedly missing happiness—and focused on Destiny, what they’d done, and why they’d done it.

Rhodey’s brow furrowed, gaze deep and thoughtful.

Tony moved onto the warnings from Time, hesitating a moment, before skipping over the part about Time’s implied suggestion to use Extremis.

Strange sent him a look at that, but he didn’t say anything either.

He finished with a shrug. “So, you know, over half the universe is going to die unless we stop it, but, given people’s current determination to shove their heads into the sand, no one is going to believe us, much less help.”

“We’ve still got to tell the Accords Council,” Rhodey said. “We can’t know this and not tell them.”

“It’s not that I don’t plan on sharing my concerns,” Tony said. “But I don’t expect anyone to listen to me. And try to tell me that they’d believe a word I said if I started talking about Destiny and sentient stones that embody aspects of reality?” He shook his head. “I do that and I lose all credibility.”

Rhodey pursed his lips. But then nodded. “Admittedly, that’s probably true.” He didn’t look happy about saying the words. Tony didn’t like it, either. But he knew the politics of the situation enough to recognize when he’d found a losing battle. “But if we told them about the Time stone—” Strange stiffened. ”And explain what the stone in Vision’s head actually is—“

“Then they try to take them,” Tony said. “At best, they lock them up. Lock Vision up. At worst, they try to use them. And that’s…” he trailed off, trying not to imagine it.

Rhodey grimaced. “Right.” His gaze flickered from Tony to Strange. “That’s all of it?”

“Everything pertinent,” Tony said.

You’re not going to tell him about Extremis? Strange asked. I’d think you’d want his opinion.

Tony didn’t know how to answer that. Rhodey… How did he explain this? The utter trust he had in Rhodey, buried deep in his soul, unshakeable and real, but it mixed with… Rhodey sees weapons differently than I do, he said finally. And… He glanced away—oh look, someone had put up some sort of expressionist painting—not wanting to see Strange’s expression and not wanting to look at Rhodey at all as he put into thoughts the feeling that had haunted Tony for seven years. Rhodey loves me, that will never change, but he doesn’t trust me. Not with… not with power.

Strange felt baffled. What?

Tony just shrugged. Rhodey and he had argued about the suit and Tony’s responsibility to it more than once the first few years. And… and Tony had never quite recovered from Rhodey’s decisive declaration that Tony didn’t deserve to wear the suit.

True, Tony had been being irresponsible at the time, but it had always felt like it spoke to a deeper truth. He tried to send the mix of feelings in Strange’s direction, not sure he managed.

That’s… you don’t really believe that, do you? Strange asked.

“Are you two… talking?” Rhodey asked. “Is that the whole ‘psychic soul bond’ thing you mentioned?” He sounded disgruntled. “I don’t think I like it very much.”

“You’ll have to get used to it,” Tony said. “Since the two of us are stuck together for another nine months. At which point, we’ll kick some Mad Titan’s ass and go our merry ways.”

“And it cannot come soon enough,” Strange added, sending a pointed look in Tony’s direction. “Because someone keeps forgetting to meditate.”

“Okay, fine, yes, that’s me,” Tony said. “I’ll get better at it.”

“Is that what you were doing on the ground when I got here?” Rhodey asked. “Meditating?” He let out a laugh, humor sparking in his eyes. “God, Strange is doomed, I don’t think I know anyone less suited for meditation.”

“Stark has been doing admirably,” Strange said, tone stiff. “So long as he remembers to actually do it. You shouldn’t underestimate him.”

Tony glanced at Strange, a little baffled by the defense. “I mean, he’s had to remind me like three times, but I figured it out far faster than either he or Wong suspected.” He smirked a little, deciding not to mention that he’d only managed because Strange had practically given him the secret to it.

Let Rhodey think he was more talented than he really was.

Rhodey just laughed at Strange’s assertion. “Well, glad to hear he’s not hopeless.”

Tony made a face at him. “I’m quite talented, actually.”

Rhodey moved on. “All right, I’m not quite sure how we’ll do it. But we do need to at least tell the Accords Council something.”

“Just not—”

“Not the stones or Destiny or your slightly concerning psychic bond,” Rhodey finished.

Tony shrugged. “I mean, I’m fine with you mentioning all of that, just not the fact that we have two of the stones. They can know everything else we know.” They wouldn’t believe it, but they could at least know it. “And I don’t want to be there when you do, but I’m going to watch the recording, because their reactions are sure to be… interesting.”

“Yeah, I’m not telling them that Destiny appeared to you and told you the fate of the universe was at stake,” Rhodey said dryly. “They would never take me seriously again. I’ll figure something else out.”

Tony shrugged. Whatever floated Rhodey’s boat.

“Is this everything you needed me for?” Strange asked, standing from his chair.

Tony considered that. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Pretty sure we’re good to go.” He grinned at Strange. “Thanks for the corroboration of what is an otherwise very unbelievable story.”

“Of course.” Strange’s eyes glinted. And I’m glad I was able to help you get your very belated payback for Colonel Rhodes’ cruel trick on your poor fifteen year old self.

Tony laughed, ignoring Rhodey’s confused look at the unconnected reaction. You’re too kind.

Strange nodded at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “We’ve got a planning session to figure out what we can provide.” And you and I need to talk, Strange added. We shouldn’t delay Extremis any longer than we have to.

Tony swallowed hard, but nodded back. I’ll… yeah. Tomorrow.

Strange opened a portal and disappeared without another word, portal closing behind him.

Tony turned away, stretching a little. He’d gotten his meditation in, and there wasn’t actually a lot to do, right now, when they still hadn’t made any plans. He hated it, this strange sort of limbo he’d found himself in. But at least he’d told Rhodey about the threat and could now leave Rhodey in charge of informing the ‘authorities’.

Wasn’t he so good at delegation.

“So,” Rhodey said, interrupting his thoughts. “Strange.”

Tony smiled. “I presume you’re talking about the person and not attempting to describe the situation?” he asked. “Though it would be an accurate descriptor.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Yes, the person. You and him…”

Tony stared at him, trying to figure out what Rhodey was getting at, because surely he wasn’t getting at that. “You did hear the part where we aren’t actually soulmates, right?” he said. “Just Destiny trying to save the universe with frankly bizarre methods?”

“Yeah, and I just watched you two staring into each other’s eyes for several minutes without saying anything.”

“Out loud,” Tony pointed out. “We were still talking.” He sniffed with feigned superiority. “I’m afraid it was classified. You’re not qualified to know.”

“Sure,” Rhodey said, clearly unbothered. “But that’s—”

“It doesn’t mean anything like what you’re implying,” Tony said. “We’re… friends, I guess. But I’m…” He thought about those first days, what he’d told Strange and Wong even then. People like them… they would always be too good for someone like Tony. Hell, if this wasn’t the end of the world, he doubted Strange would want anything to do with him.

He shook the thoughts away, because that didn’t matter.

“Anyways, I’ve got things to do. Good luck with the council!” He beelined out of the room before Rhodey could say anything else, heading towards the lab. He ignored Rhodey’s squawked, “Tony!”

He didn’t slow down until he made it to the lab, letting himself in. “FRIDAY?” he called. “Blackout.”

The glass walls immediately went opaque, locking him in alone.

It always made him feel safer, like this, the thought that no one could get to him. It wasn’t really true. Especially now that he knew portals existed, but it still helped. And right now, he needed all the help he could get.

He took a deep breath, before moving to the back of the lab, a stretch of blank wall greeted him and he mentally calculated the distance from the other walls before stepping in front of the invisible safe. He placed his hand on the wall. The lines of the safe appeared as the panel of wall popped open. He licked his lips, nerves twisting in his gut. He pressed his thumb against the waiting sensor, before speaking the passcode. “Death is but another path. I took the path less traveled by.”

The safe popped open. He reached in, pulling out the small silver case. He brought it to a table and opened the box. There were a few vials of the formula, the liquid looking almost like liquid gold. There were four doses.

He ran a finger over one of the vials. One of them… He closed his eyes. He could remember the image of Pepper in the hologram, fire under her skin as her body decided whether to accept or reject the virus. She’d been lucky. Time seemed to think Tony’d be just as lucky. Tony supposed if anything would know, it would be Time. It didn’t actually help him feel any better about it.

One of the doses was for him.

Tony wondered if it was a kindness or a cruelty to offer it to anyone else. An eternity. That was what Extremis signed him up for—presuming he survived the Mad Titan.

He sighed, pulling up a chair and collapsing into it. He buried his face in his hands.

He wanted to tell himself that there was a decision to be made. But that would be nothing more than a lie he’d be telling to make himself feel better. No, he already knew his decision.

Whether he could live with it was another question.

“Okay,” Tony said, glancing around the circular table. Vision, Wong, Rhodey, and Strange sat, expressions a mix of grave and fierce.  “Now that the Council of Elrond has convened—”

Strange snorted. “Who does that make you?” he asked. “Not Frodo, then?”

Tony scoffed. “You’re the one with the infinity stone.” That he could only hope didn’t malevolently destroy everyone who wielded it. “You’re absolutely Frodo. I’m Samwise.”

Strange arched an eyebrow. “Under no situation are you Samwise Gamgee.”

What was that supposed to mean? Tony could totally be Samwise. More movie Samwise than book Samwise, admittedly. But still, he could totally be Samwise. “I’d make a great Samwise.”

“You’re Peregrin Took,” Strange decided. “Constantly causing trouble and occasionally managing something brilliant.”

Tony gaped at him. “Excuse you. I’m… I am absolutely not Pippin.” Sure, Pippin was a fantastic character, but Tony definitely did not fit. “But I suppose you’re auditioning for the role of Meriadoc?”

Rhodey sighed. “Given that this is not Lord of the Rings, and that—besides Frodo—none of them were invited to the Council of Elrond, anyways…”

A good point. “Fine. I’m Gimli, obvi—”

“Tony,” Rhodey interrupted, exasperation obvious. “No more Lord of the Rings references.”

Tony bit his lip.

Does that make me Legolas? Strange asked in Tony’s head.

Are you suggesting that we have an eternal enmity between us that will forge into the deepest of friendships as we face the possible destruction of everything we hold dear?

Strange’s amusement sparked in his chest. Something like that.

Tony tried not to smile. Then, yes, you’re probably Legolas.

“Stop making Lord of the Rings’ references,” Rhodey repeated. “Just because you two are doing it via your, frankly freaky, psychic bond, doesn’t mean you can keep doing it.”

“You cannot prove that was what we were doing,” Tony said, not bothering to hide the smirk that made it clear that was exactly what he and Strange had been doing. “And I’ve realized my mistake. Clearly we’re the Knights of the Round—”

“If we could commence?” Wong asked, sounding exasperated. “We’re only facing the possible destruction of our universe. I would think that far more vital than which fictional group of characters we are.”

Okay, fine, Tony would be mature about this. “All right,” he said. “So what do we have on the table?”

“We have two stones,” Stephen started. “Potentially three, if we can figure out how to use your soul maker status—”

”That we have no proof means anything,” Tony pointed out.

“—to retrieve the soul stone,” Stephen continued, ignoring his point entirely. “Kamar Taj will help as much as they are able, but a certain number must stay back and protect Kamar Taj and the Sanctums, in case all goes wrong.”

Tony nodded, that made sense. It did no good to protect against the Mad Titan if they ended up dealing with something like… he glanced at Strange, thought about the conversation three days ago, about what Strange had faced in order to protect the world.

No, it would do no good to defeat the Mad Titan only to fall to something like that.

“Admittedly we don’t have much on our end,” Rhodey said. “I did go to the Accords Council, and they determined that my information had no credible source and that they wouldn’t spare resources from the Task Force to help us.”

“We’re going to have to try to find allies another way,” Tony said. “But frankly, we don’t have a lot of options. SHIELD is defunct, the other Avengers are… somewhere, and we’ve had a distinct lack of super-powered individuals crawling out of the woodwork.”

There was Peter… Tony took a deep breath at that. Because there was Peter, and Tony… Tony knew deep down there would be no way for him to keep Peter out of the fight, when the time came. Worse, he wasn’t sure if he could in good conscience try to, when they needed every hand on deck to face the Mad Titan, his armies, and children.

“Well, we still—”

Tony’s phone rang. Tony blinked, because his phone was on silent and FRIDAY would have only pushed a call through if it was important.

”Stark—“

“Give me a minute,” Tony said. “This is important.” Probably, at least. He tapped at the blue tooth in his ear. “Talk to me, FRI.”

“Boss,” FRIDAY started, tone uncertain. “There’s someone at the compound entrance. She wishes to speak with you.”

Tony frowned. “Who?” he asked. People didn’t just come to the compound, and those that did tended to have permissions and could do their own thing, independent of any sort of input from Tony. And, unless it was important, FRIDAY wouldn’t bother pushing the request through.

FRIDAY didn’t answer immediately. “It is Wanda Maximoff,” she said.

Tony’s jaw dropped. “What?” he asked. “That’s—” He didn’t know what that was. Though impossible sounded like a good word. Except Maximoff was here, which meant it was very possible. Implausible, though. That still seemed fitting. It was entirely implausible for Maximoff to be here. “What does she want?” he asked. “Are the others with her?”

“She has stated that she needs to speak with you,” FRIDAY said. “And she appears to be alone. If the others are present, they are out of reach of my sensors.”

What the hell?

Tony’s gaze darted to Vision who was looking at the bookshelves as though they were suddenly fascinating. “Anything you want to tell me, Vision?” he asked.

The others glanced between the two of them, clearly curious. Tony paid them no attention, because Maximoff was at the compound, when Maximoff was supposed to be on the run. Only one thing—or rather person—would have brought her back, and Tony was looking right at him.

“I did not ask her to return,” Vision defended. “I—” he paused, glancing at Tony, a sort of regretful confusion in his gaze. “I did not tell her what was coming. It did not feel like my place. But I… I confided in her that I was frightened,” he admitted finally. “That a threat was coming that I did not think I was prepared for. I did not ask for her to return,” he repeated. Where the first time he’d sounded defensive, this time he sounded wondering, as though he couldn’t believe that Wanda would come for him.

Tony had always expected that Vision would leave him for Wanda. He’d never really considered that Wanda might leave exile for Vision.

Huh.

Well.

He didn’t know what to say to that.

“What’s going on?” Rhodey asked. “What are the two of you talking about?”

Tony shook himself, trying to regain some sort of equilibrium. “Wanda Maximoff is currently at the doors to the compound, asking to talk to me.”

Everyone but Vision stared at him. “Well,” Wong said finally. “That is unexpected.”

Understatement of the century, right there.

Tony took a deep breath, looking at Strange. “Want to open me a portal?” he asked. “I don’t think this is something I should let wait.”

Strange examined him for a moment, then nodded. “All right,” he agreed. He stood and opened a portal, gesturing for Tony to go through.

Tony’s nerves spiked.

“I’m coming with,” Rhodey said, standing as well.

“You stay here,” Strange countered. “It would be unwise to arrive en masse, and I’m afraid that I’m already accompanying Stark.”

“Excuse you?” Rhodey asked, tone peeved.

Tony glanced at Strange. “I don’t need an escort,” he said, a little pointed. He wasn’t some wilting daisy who hadn’t been watered in days.

Strange ignored Rhodey and met Tony’s gaze. “She frightens you,” he said.

Tony winced, because he didn’t really need someone saying that out loud and making a big deal out if it. “I wouldn’t say—”

“Her potential frightens you,” Strange corrected. “You may not believe that she will hurt you, but you still fear the possibility of it.”

That… wasn’t wrong. He didn’t understand Maximoff. He didn’t like Maximoff. He didn’t trust Maximoff. But… but he didn’t think she was malevolent, not anymore, at least. “I can handle Maximoff,” Tony said. “And she’s not here to cause trouble.” He glanced at Vision, who nodded seriously, a fervent desire in his eyes that Tony believe him.

He let his gaze flicker to Rhodey next, who still looked peeved, but had settled back in his chair, stiff and unhappy, but letting Strange have his way.

“If that’s the case.” Tony’s gaze flickered back to Strange, who shrugged. “Then she will not mind if you are accompanied and you will feel marginally safer.”

Tony rubbed at his face. “That’s an assumption, you know. That I feel safe with you.”

Strange smirked. “Is it?” he stepped through the portal, turning to give Tony an expectant look. “I will go and find her myself,” he said. “I suspect you don’t want that.”

“Why are you like this?” Tony asked. He followed Strange through the portal and back into the compound. The portal closed behind him. “You seriously never take no for an answer, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Strange said. “My sex is always safe, sane, and consensual.”

Tony choked.

Strange grinned smugly at the reaction.

“Okay, that’s… good to know,” Tony decided, then immediately shelved the thought deep into the back of his mind. “But I’m serious. You just… steamroll people.”

Strange paused, turning towards Tony. “I only pushed on Extremis because we have nine months and we have to communicate with each other about what we have on the table,” he said. “And I’m only pushing now, because you don’t want to face her alone.” He tapped his chest. “And you can’t really deny it, when I can feel it.”

“She won’t hurt me,” Tony said, ignoring that point.

Strange sighed. “You know that,” he said. “Conceptually. Frankly, I expect you’re right and that she has no intent to cause harm. But that doesn’t change that she did once, and you lost someone you loved because of it. That’s trauma that doesn’t just go away because the offender had a change of heart. You are allowed to be afraid.”

Except Tony didn’t want to be. He just couldn’t stop himself. “Yeah,” he said, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. “Just… let’s go find out what she has to say.”

Strange had brought them just out of sight of the front door and Tony headed in that direction. He could see Maximoff, waiting just outside the doors. They slid open as he reached them and he took a step outside to greet her. Her gaze flickered to Strange, surprise in her eyes. Tony could see her taking in the outfit and the cloak with some bemusement.

And who knew, maybe she was taking in the psychic vibes of magic, or whatever, that Strange probably gave out. What would he know about that?

Maximoff turned away from Strange, looking at Tony. “I am here to turn myself in,” she declared. “I want to help.”

Chapter Text

Tony had a headache. One that seemed to be compounding by the moment. He was blaming it entirely on Wanda Maximoff who was currently sitting in one of the compound’s gathering rooms, Vision alongside her, with a pair of handcuffs on her wrists that every single one of them knew would do absolutely nothing to contain her.

But Tony wasn’t about to put her in another straight jacket or the collar they’d used on her in the raft. He understood, conceptually, that they’d considered her a threat and had had no other way to contain her, but he also didn’t think it had been entirely humane. Tony understood that, having nominally been an Avenger, the authority figures wouldn’t have come to him for a way to contain any of his teammates, but Tony also knew that if they had that he could have figured something out that would have contained Maximoff without hurting her.

Mostly, because he already had created something for just that, even if he’d never told anyone. If he had, those who wanted to contain Maximoff for no other reason than she frightened them would have pressed to have it used and that had seemed wrong. For all that Maximoff had terrified him, for all the he didn’t trust her, he had genuinely hoped there would never be a reason to use it.

He supposed, if the Accords Council really pressed the issue about genuinely containing Maximoff right now, he would pull it out, but he was hoping that he and Rhodey could pacify the council so that it didn’t come to that point. It wouldn’t exactly engender trust with Maximoff, for one, and it could very easily escalate until containment of powered people was the norm. Tony didn’t know what the right balance was, but he did know that balance had to be determined when people weren’t angry and out for blood.

The council itself was split. Which was good, to some degree. There were more than a few of them that wanted to come down hard on Maximoff to prove a point, which was, admittedly not good. On another side members were arguing Maximoff was a powerful player that could be of use and they needed to use the opportunity to gain proper control of her. The final, and thankfully largest, side felt that if Maximoff was willing to read and sign the Accords now, that all could be forgiven. In no small part because if they could show that Maximoff would be treated with gracious forgiveness that the rest of the missing Avengers might turn themselves in.

There would be censure, they hurried to add, because blatantly breaking the law couldn’t just be completely let go, but it would be reasonable if perhaps lenient.

Tony was fine with that, honestly. He didn’t necessarily like the precedent it set—there shouldn’t be separate standards for ‘heroes’ than for the average everyday person—but with a universe-ending fight just around the corner, he wanted someone with the power Maximoff had on his side. Especially when, everything else not-withstanding, he knew she’d do whatever it took to protect Vision.

She wouldn’t have turned herself in otherwise, not when the risks of this going wrong for her were as high as they were.

Are you all right? Strange asked in his mind. Strange had disappeared back into the Sanctum when Tony had decided that the council needed to be contacted, not wanting to be involved. The council was now vaguely aware that there were other players on the board, but nothing had been done about it, yet. Tony was fine with that staying a situation to be figured out in the future.

Well, the headache meds haven’t kicked in, yet, Tony responded. So I imagine you can feel just how all right I am.

I do admit it’s unpleasant, Strange acknowledged. How are the council coming along?

Tony sighed quietly enough that the various screens full of council members wouldn’t see it. I’m hopeful, he said. But it’s still a pain in the ass.

He could feel Strange’s wry amusement in his chest, even though it wasn’t really a funny situation. Someone like her could change the tides, Strange said. I won’t go so far as to say we absolutely need her, but I would say that it’s quite possible that we do.

Tony knew that. It was why he was here arguing for Maximoff in the first place. Rhodey’s persuasive, Tony said. And the council likes him.

He could almost hear Strange’s laugh in his head. For all that you claim the council hates you, I suspect you hold far more sway than you want to admit.

Tony decided to ignore that, focusing once again on the council and the ongoing argument between the council and him and Rhodey to get the optimal results.

When they finally wrangled the results they wanted almost two hours later Tony was exhausted. He looked at Rhodey. “Please tell me you want to handle talking to Maximoff.”

Rhodey pursed his lips, an expression on his face that Tony didn’t like. “You know I’d take that in a heartbeat,” he said, tone apologetic, which meant nothing good for Tony. “But she’ll accept it better coming from you.”

Tony stared at him, mind mentally stuttering. “Look, she might not want me dead anymore, but she still doesn’t like me, you know that right?”

“Unfortunately,” Rhodey acknowledged. “But she very specifically turned herself in to you. Maybe she never liked you, but she’s always looked at you like you were the one in charge.” Rhodey paused. “After Rogers, of course.” 

Tony was pretty sure he and Rhodey remembered things very, very differently. “I was barely around,” he said. “I was like half-retired back then. Sure, I did my own thing and I showed up when needed, but I wasn’t an active member of the team.”

Rhodey grimaced. “Do you remember the fight in Alaska with those weird engineered reptiles trying to destroy Juneau?”

Unfortunately. “Yeah. We contained it pretty well, even though we got there later than I’d have liked.”

“Remember how Rogers got hit hard? Completely destroyed his ear piece and he couldn’t give orders?”

Tony wrinkled his nose at the reminder. Stark tech was good and it shouldn’t have broken that easily, but at the same time the hit had actually knocked out Steve for a good minute, if something could hit Steve that hard then a measly ear comm, even one as good as Tony’s, hadn’t stood a chance. “Yeah. It was a mess. We had like three people giving orders.”

Rhodey nodded. “You, me, and Romanoff,” he said. “I ceded to you first; you can handle more detailed input on your HUD than I can and while I might have more strategy training than you, you process the information faster than I do and can, I am reluctantly forced to admit, make plans faster. Plus, if anyone registered something you hadn’t caught, you’d accept and adapt. Which meant I could call out anything I thought was amiss and trust it’d be listened to.”

It made something in Tony’s chest warm at the trust. He remembered what he’d told Strange only a few days ago about how Rhodey loved him but didn’t always trust him. Tony couldn’t quite shake that feeling, maybe never would—not when deep down he knew—but at times like this it was easier to ignore. “Right, what does this have to do with Maximoff?”

“You and Romanoff were still passing out orders,” Rhodey reminded him. “Twice you and Romanoff gave Maximoff contradicting orders and both times Maximoff followed your lead instead of Romanoff’s. After that you’d solidified as the lead in the field, so it didn’t come up again. But it happened.”

Tony stared at Rhodey, because he did not remember that. Maximoff might trust Rogers most, but Romanoff was pretty high up there. Romanoff had been one of her main trainers during that time and Maximoff would have had every reason to follow Romanoff’s lead before Tony’s. “I call bullshit.”

Rhodey shook his head. “No. After you’d left after the fight and sit rep, Romanoff brought it up with Maximoff. She actually handled it rather well, didn’t get on Maximoff’s case for not following her lead, just congratulated her on keeping her head in the field after Rogers had been taken out of commission and had been unable to communicate with the rest of us. She said they needed to have better organizational structure in place on what to do if something like that happened again, but said that Maximoff had made the right call.”

“Bullshit,” Tony repeated. “Maximoff never listened to me in the slightest. Exhibit A: The whole Accords thing last time.”

“I mean, you versus Rogers in Maximoff’s mind and you’re always going to lose,” Rhodey said. “No offense.”

Since it was the truth Tony didn’t know why he would take offense. “I know.”

“But me versus you?” Rhodey shrugged. “She’ll follow your lead long before she’ll follow mine. Maybe it’s because she hated you for so long, but she looks at you and sees someone with the control and responsibility. And, beyond that, you have to admit that you’re actually the person least likely to treat her like a kid. She responds to that, whether she means to or not.”

“She’s 28. And you don’t treat her like a kid.” Rhodey detested that sort of thing. “Plus, to hear everyone else tell it, I treated her like a kid by ‘grounding’ her without explaining why back during that whole mess.” Which, maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t. That whole thing had been a mess and trying to keep her from getting deported while keeping Rogers and Wilson from being arrested and Barnes from being heavily prosecuted or extradited to Wakanda had had Tony stretched way too thin. He wasn’t going to claim he had been handling everything perfectly.

“Look,” Rhodey said, tone getting impatient. “Can we acknowledge that I was around the Avengers that last year they were around far more than you were?”

Tony rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Then can you accept that I saw the dynamics that Maximoff and the rest of the Avengers operated under more than you did? Even when you weren’t an active Avenger you held far more weight than you think you did.”

“Fine,” Tony said, even if he still called bullshit. He’d always dealt with the utter frustration that no one seemed to listen to him. But Rhodey probably had some reason to think that, if he really did. “I still think you want to get out of dealing with Maximoff, but whatever, I will explain to her what’s going on.”

Rhodey sighed. “I’m not trying to get out of dealing with Maximoff. But I am committed to getting the best possible result and I’m dead certain she’ll listen to you, no matter what her personal feelings for you are. Again, she didn’t turn herself in to me, she specifically asked FRIDAY for you, not me, not even Vision who is an active Avenger and a viable choice. She turned herself in to you. Like it or not, she decided that you were the one she perceives to be in charge right now.”

Tony wanted to groan. “I already said fine,” he said. “We do not need to continue this conversation.” He ran a hand over his face. “Which means I do need to go deal with this, because the sooner I deal with it the sooner I can get rid of this headache.” Or at least he hoped.

He grabbed a tablet, one that FRIDAY had already had the Accords downloaded onto, and quickly downloaded the deal Maximoff was being offered alongside several helpful documents and websites that explained the Accords for those less familiar with the sort of legalese the Accords were written in. Even now he wouldn’t say the Accords were perfect, but they were what they had and they were being revised as practical issues were discovered and Tony and Rhodey pushed back on areas where the Accords tried to overstep personal and public rights.

He found Maximoff with Vision in the gathering room he’d left them in. They were holding hands and talking quietly and Tony paused for a moment to just watch them. He was still genuinely staggered that Maximoff had turned herself in for Vision. Maybe she’d trusted in her ability to get out again if things went wrong for her, but it had still been a risk. She hadn’t known what would happen.

He still didn’t understand how she could have hurt Vision the way she had when something like this looked like genuine love.

But then again, not all relationships were all that healthy, love notwithstanding.

Honestly, if it wasn’t totally overstepping boundaries, he’d tell the two get some sort of couples’ counseling. He might float the idea at Vision anyway as a concerned friend while doing his best to sidestep his supposed ‘authority’. He rolled his eyes at Rhodey’s frankly ridiculous claim.

He stepped into the room, drawing both Maximoff’s and Vision’s attention. He nodded to Maximoff’s wrists and the handcuffs there. “Feel free to take those off. We all know you can.”

She actually smiled a little as she made a quick gesture, red mist appearing around the cuffs as they unlocked and fell onto her lap. “So they’re not going to lock me up, then?” she asked, tone a little wry.

“You saying you would have let them?” Tony shot back.

She shrugged, not answering either direction.

“Speaking of getting locked up,” Tony said. “Did you let the rest of your group know you were going or do I need to expect the other Avengers showing up trying to ‘rescue’ you?” He arched an eyebrow. “Because I would really like to know in advance if I need to be ready for an assault on my compound.”

Maximoff hesitated. “I did not tell them I was leaving,” she admitted. “I did not want them to try to stop me. I would not have let them, and it felt better to avoid the potential complications. But I did leave a note to say where I was going and that I was doing it of my own free will.”

That was something. “Did you tell them why?”

She pursed her lips. “Yes? No?” She shook her head. “Vision hadn’t told me what was going on. He still hasn’t. All I knew was that… was that he needed me.” She glanced at Vision. “I could not be anywhere else, if that was true.”

Tony still didn’t know how to deal with that, but he could accept that for now it was apparently the case. “All right. If they try to contact you, I ask that you inform me.” He eyed her for a moment, wondering if she would. “Colonel Rhodes and I have set things up with getting your pardon in place that means we’ll be able to do the same for them if they decide they want that. But if they do something idiotic it makes my job exponentially harder than it has to be and I already have enough to deal with that I don’t want to deal with that.”

Maximoff looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. “I will.”

They’d see. “As for your pardon, it’s not a full clean sheet. You’re going to need to do community service along with a few other conditions. Work as an Avenger will count towards that, but I suggest if you want the actual people to forgive you, that you go beyond that.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve got incredible abilities, Maximoff. And that there are plenty of things that aren’t fighting that you can help with. The Avengers at large were never involved in things like natural disaster relief. Which is fair, for the most part they weren’t trained for that. But you can get trained for that, because there are dozens of things that you are uniquely capable of helping with. And that’s only one example.” Something startled crossed Maximoff’s face and Tony was surprised to see that the next emotion was genuine desire. “Beyond that, you do need to sign the Accords,” Tony added.

“I will do—”

Tony shook his head. “I have no doubt you’ll sign them without a second thought to be here with Vision. But I don’t want you to do that, none of us want you to do that, if you haven’t read them. If you don’t understand them.” He waved to Vision. “I have no doubt Vision can help you walk through them.” Vision nodded seriously from his place next to Maximoff. “Colonel Rhodes and I are both available if you have questions as well. I’ve put together several resources for you to help you parse through it. But no one here wants you to sign something you don’t actually understand.”

Maximoff took another long moment than nodded.

Tony suspected she fully intended to sign them no matter what she thought after she read them. But Tony had no control over that and his job was to give her the opportunity to understand what she was agreeing to. She would hardly be the first person to pretend to agree to something they didn’t actually agree with in order to get what they wanted. It honestly wasn’t all that rare or unique an occurrence.

“All right,” Tony said. “I’m going to leave this with you, then.” He held out the tablet and she took it. “It has both the full details of your pardon and the Accords for your review. Your room is still where it’s always been. I am, once again, asking that you stay within the compound until I can do a bit of PR to smooth things over.”

A slightly abashed look crossed Maximoff’s face, but she nodded. “I will.”

Tony paused, looking at her, then sighed. “And I am sorry,” he said. “Not for telling you to stay in the compound back during the whole debacle, because that was the best move for you. But I’m sorry for not taking the time to explain why it was necessary. I do think you should have, and still need to, put in a little more effort into understanding your own position.” She wasn’t a kid, and burying her head in the sand had been an idiotic move. “But I had taken lead on legal matters for the Avengers.” Even if half of them hadn’t listened to him or taken the legal outs he’d worked out for them. “I had agreed to that role, which made it my responsibility. It was understandable that you’d have expected me to explain the issues surrounding your visa and that you were on thin ice, and I didn’t do that.”

A complicated look crossed Maximoff’s face. “Thank you,” she said. “But you are right. Vision did tell me that it was a matter of public safety, that I was in a precarious position.” She looked at Vision, a soft, regretful look on her face. “And while I do wish that I had known more, I could have asked.” She was quiet a moment. “But I also know that I don’t always understand all of the… politics surrounding my situation. And it’s not always for lack of trying.” 

Given how complicated politics and legal issues could get, Tony didn’t really blame her for that. Because not everyone did. It was one reason lawyers existed, to break things down for people, to help things make sense. It was also one of the reasons Tony had stepped in as intermediary for the Avengers because while his legal team did impressive work, he understood the politics and legalities far better than the others and it was easier, most of the time, for things to come from him than a faceless legal team. 

“I will try to do better to ask,” Maximoff continued. “Because it is unfair and foolish for me to not know or to expect people to just handle things for me. But I would appreciate it if you did explain, next time.”

“Well,” Tony said wryly. “It’s kind of my job these days.” He nodded to the tablet again. “So read that and if you have questions ask. Any of us are willing to help you, but you do need to do the work yourself.”

She nodded.

“Great,” Tony said. “Then we’re all on the same page.”

The look on Maximoff’s face said she didn’t agree with that. “Are you going to tell me what’s coming?” she asked.

Tony sighed again. “I will,” he said. “Tomorrow.” He could see Maximoff did not like that. “I’m not trying to put it off or leave you hanging, but while I’ve got things figured out with the council for you, there are a lot of things I need to deal with to make sure things go smoothly from here on out and the sooner I get those things rolling the better off we’ll all be.”

Maximoff still didn’t look happy, but she nodded.

He looked at Vision. “And if you don’t want to wait, you are more than free to explain what you want. This involves you just as much as it involves the rest of us.”

Vision didn’t quite look relieved, but it was close. He nodded. “Thank you. I will. It did not feel like my right, before.”

Given Vision literally had the mind stone in his forehead and was undoubtedly one of the Mad Titan’s targets, Tony would argue it was especially Vision’s right, but he didn’t feel the need to dig into that, right now. He suspected Vision hadn’t wanted to mention Tony’s and Strange’s situation without permission. Tony appreciated that, honestly. 

“Right, well, settle in.” He looked at Maximoff seriously. “And I’m serious. If the Avengers get in contact I need to know.” He snorted. “And while it probably won’t work, tell them to contact me.” He rolled his eyes. “They all know my phone number, not to mention that dinosaur of a phone Rogers has forced me to keep on hand.”

Maximoff didn’t look like she knew what he was talking about, but Tony didn’t bother to explain. “I will,” she said.

Great. Tony was officially considering this whole conversation over for the day. He had more important things to do. Vision and Maximoff could handle themselves for now.

Tony collapsed onto his couch in the lab. There was probably more that needed to be done, but he’d done everything he could for the day and he needed to just… close his eyes for a minute.

The hum of a portal opening a few feet away caught his attention and he could feel Strange right there. He groaned but didn’t open his eyes. “Seriously Strange? I cannot deal with anything else today. Can whatever this is wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m well aware of your current limitations,” Strange said. “Given I can feel both your absolute exhaustion and the fact that you’re starving. I brought food.”

Tony’s eyes shot open and he stared at Strange in bafflement. “You brought me food?”

Strange arched an eyebrow. “Do you have any idea how disconcerting it is to feel starving when I’m well aware that I’m not. Trust me, this food is just as much for me as it is for you. I’d prefer for my stomach to stop gnawing at me.” Despite the words, Tony couldn’t detect any resentment or even frustration. Strange just felt gently concerned. 

“Right,” he said. “Well, since you were nice enough to bring me food, I might as well eat it.”

Strange moved closer, dropping onto the couch next to him and handing over a container.

Tony opened it to find chow mein and sesame chicken. The scent hit him and Tony’s mouth immediately started watering. He grabbed the chopsticks, not bothering with anything regarding manners as he grabbed a large chunk of noodles and stuffed them into his mouth. Oh. They tasted just as good as they smelled. “Where’d you get this?” he asked after he finally chewed and swallowed. “Because this is the good stuff.”

“Hong Kong,” Stephen said. Hong Kong? “A lovely place near the Hong Kong Sanctum,” Stephen added.

Tony blinked, staring at him in bafflement. “Well,” he said finally. “That’s convenient.” He took another chunk of noodles, reveling in the taste. “I’m suddenly a huge fan of your portals.”

Strange snorted. “A portal wasn’t actually necessary. All of the Sanctums are connected to each other. Getting from the New York Sanctum to the Hong Kong Sanctum is as easy as walking through a door.” He paused. “But if it will make it so you are comfortable with my portals, next time I’ll get you pasta from Italy. I would need a portal for that.”

Pasta straight from Italy? Tony had to stop himself from moaning in desire. “You get me pasta straight from Italy and I will forgive portals for both killing me that one time and for defying so many scientific principles I want to cry.”

That made Strange laugh; his amusement warmed Tony’s chest. “Deal.”

“So,” Tony said as he kept eating. “Are you here just to feed me so you’ll stop feeling hungry, or do you have an ulterior motive for showing up?”

Strange shrugged. “Your shields held up through everything today, so I couldn’t quite track what was going on, but while the headache is still unfortunately holding steady, you relaxed, so I assume things went well.”

“For now,” Tony said. “The council is pacified and in agreement. Maximoff still has a few things to check off and she’s going to be doing community service for like… a decade, but honestly, I think we might have just pulled off a miracle.” He ran a hand over his face. “Hell, she got a better deal than Barton and Lang, and those two turned themselves in almost immediately.” Though to be fair, while both Land and Barton would be under house arrest for another year, and probation for three after that, they didn’t have to do the community service that Maximoff had to. Beyond that, she would be under close scrutiny for a very long time. “No clue what the other Avengers are going to do after this. But I’m hoping they’ll be smart about it.” And really, they were all competent people who normally made smart, rational decisions, but… Well, everyone had their weak spots and their moments of irrationality. Tony included.

“That does seem optimal,” Strange said. “And how do you feel?”

As though in answer, a tumult of his own emotions—ones he’d been trying to ignore—twisted in his chest. “You probably know as well as I do,” he noted, not entirely sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing in the moment. “Not like I can hide it from you.” He closed his eyes and fell back so his head rested on the couch. “I don’t know what to think.” In some ways it was still so entirely surreal. He shook his head. “If anyone had ever told me that Maximoff would turn herself in without being forced into that position, I’d have broken a rib laughing at the absurdity of it. But she did, and hell, she turned herself in to me. I hadn’t really thought anything of it when it happened, but Rhodey thinks it was a deliberate choice for it to be me over one of the others. Which… Weird. She hates me. But…” He pursed his lips. “She trusted me, if Rhodey is to be believed, even if only for Vision’s sake.”

Strange didn’t seem entirely surprised by that. But then, even with what Strange knew based off Tony’s own reactions to Maximoff, he didn’t have the full scope of the situation. “Can you work with her?”

Tony shrugged. “I have in the past. Even despite… everything. Maybe there’s always going to be a part of me that’s terrified of her, but I can compartmentalize. And with the stakes what they are I’ll go so far as to say I’m grateful.” He turned his head, opening his eyes to look at Strange who was watching him with careful scrutinization. “But thank you,” he said. “For coming with me when she showed up.” He hadn’t fully trusted her intentions then, even with Vision vouching for her. Strange being there had helped. Loathe as Tony was to admit it. Tony’d have done it alone, no question, because it had needed doing. But… but it’d been nice to have someone on his side.

“Of course,” Strange said. He hesitated. “And, should you desire, I suspect that I can help… shield you. I don’t think Maximoff will hurt you. And I don’t think you think she’ll hurt you. But I’m sure she’s not the only one out there capable of mental intrusion—” Tony suspected the same and he hated it, hated how vulnerable it made him feel. ”—and she’s certainly not the only one with magic,” Strange continued. He waved his hand as if Tony needed a reminder that Strange himself and all of his group had magic. “And while I could and would help you build shields in any case, I believe that with our bond I can ensure that they are far stronger.”

For a long moment he just watched Strange, trying to parse through the tangle of emotions in his chest, both his and Strange’s, searching for ulterior motives or anything that might indicate deception. He wasn’t surprised when he found nothing more than genuine concern. His initial feelings around the bond and his uncertainty regarding Strange aside, he found it almost impossible not to trust Strange. Not while he could feel Strange so clearly.

Didn’t stop him from finding Strange entirely aggravating, sometimes. But that was valid because Strange was an aggravating person, sometimes.

“That’d be nice,” he said finally. “Though if you’re suggesting tonight, I’m gonna have to say not a chance because there is no way I’ll be able to deal with your whole… hocus pocus thing with how tired I am.”

Strange rolled his eyes. “I can feel how exhausted you are,” Strange reminded him. “And the fact that I can’t take an aspirin for your headache is truly inconvenient.”

Tony grimaced. “I have taken headache meds,” he defended. “But they’re not always effective. Especially when I don’t get away from the source.” And it was probably too early to take any more.

That earned him another scrutinizing look. “I can probably help with it,” Strange said slowly. “I can leech the pain, a little. It’s not a permanent thing, but in the case of headaches it often reduces the pain enough that the body can finish the healing process before the spell wears off and by the time the spell fades you’ll feel fine again.”

Tony couldn’t quite help his laugh, part incredulous, part exasperated, and part genuinely amused. “You really took my saying I hate magic as a challenge, didn’t you?”

Stephen’s lip twitched up in minor amusement. “I do want to help,” he said. “But getting you to admit that magic isn’t all that bad is a bonus. By the time you’re done with me I plan to have you genuinely loving magic.”

Fat chance of that, but… Well, he did trust Strange. That and this headache had been steadily growing for over nine hours, now, and Tony would probably do some inadvisable things to get rid of it. He wasn’t actually sure which of the two reasons had more influence on his decision to accept Strange’s offer. “Don’t get used to this,” Tony warned. “Tomorrow I’m going back to hating magic.”

That earned him a flicker of amusement in Strange’s eyes, accompanied by a smug glow in Tony’s chest. “Sure you will,” Strange said. He slid closer, hand coming up to Tony’s temple. Tony wasn’t quite sure what he expected, but he didn’t expect for Strange’s fingers to gently push Tony’s hair back, tangling in it for a moment before his fingers came back to Tony’s temple.

One shaking finger traced a shape against Tony’s skin. Tony assumed it was some sort of magic symbol. Runes, maybe. Not that Tony was entirely sure if magical runes were real things, but it sounded appropriately mystical.

Strange’s finger stopped its path and there was a strange pulse of warmth along the lines Strange had traced that spread through Tony’s head and the pain slowly seeped away. His eyes fell closed as the warmth spread taking the pain with it. Tony nearly moaned as it found that cluster of nerves at the base of his skull and the pain leeched away. “Oh, sweet science,” escaped as the relief set in.

“Not quite,” Strange teased. “Try again.”

Tony snorted. “Not happening,” he said. He opened his eyes to meet Strange’s. “While I’m well aware that you helping me is really you helping you, I will still say thank you. That’s world’s better.”

“Are you suggesting I wouldn’t help you if I didn’t get anything out of it?” Strange asked. “What you must think of me.” The words were said with utter dryness. “I am a doctor, Stark. It’s something of my job to help alleviate people’s pain.”

Fair enough, Tony supposed. He nodded to Strange’s hands. “Do you do it for yourself?“ he asked. He flexed his fingers. He could feel Strange’s pain, so he knew Strange certainly wasn’t doing it right now.

Strange shrugged. “Very rarely. It’s not something that’s healthy or wise to do constantly, and if a person isn’t careful it can be addictive. A headache here or there isn’t a concern, but chronic pains are something else altogether. That’s not a path I want to go down. I do have pain meds that I can take, the normal, scientific variety, but I take those equally rarely for similar reasons. I save both for days when I simply can’t anymore. Otherwise… ”

Tony nodded in understanding. “You just… deal with it.”

“There’s not exactly an alternative,” Strange pointed out dryly. “I won’t say I’ve gotten used to it, pain…” he trailed off, as though not sure how to explain.

“I get it,” Tony said quietly. He tapped at his chest. “The arc reactor, it was in my chest and it…” He shrugged, because he’d never found the right words to explain it, either. “As a doctor, I figure you can guess what a device that invasive would do to the body.”

There was understanding in Strange’s eyes. “It would have been unpleasant.”

An understatement. “It was,” Tony agreed, as dryly as Strange himself. “I’m fine now, obviously.” Strange would have front row tickets if Tony wasn’t fine. “But I got very familiar with pain those five years. You learn to live with it, but that’s not quite the same thing.” He had thought, then, that he’d have to live with that pain for the rest of his life. He’d gotten lucky, in a lot of ways, that he’d been able to find a way to take out the arc reactor, to escape a lifetime of pain. “You know,” Tony said carefully. “I have more than one dose of extremis.”

Strange startled, eyes going wide. “What are you saying?”

“Immortality is as terrible as it is beautiful,” Tony said, voice coming out more tired than he’d meant to as he repeated the words that first Time and then Strange himself had said. “But it would be a pain free one.” At least physically.

“There’s no guarantee I would survive the injection,” Strange said, but he sounded a little shaken. Tony understood. Strange knew, in the same way Tony had, that pain was going to be a part of him for the rest of his life. Even suggesting otherwise… it was enough to leave a person unbalanced. “And something tells me that, even if extremis makes you very hard to kill, if I die before this bond is broken, it’ll take you with me.”

That was probably true, not that they had a way to test that. But still… “Just… think about it.”