Chapter Text
Tony stared at the spot where Stephen had been sitting only five minutes ago, trying to make sense of everything. Stephen had left via magic after Tony had asked—if Tony still wasn’t sure whether he was glad Stephen had left or if he wished Stephen had protested… well, that was for Tony to figure out—ending their conversation with a declaration of love that Tony hadn’t known how to respond to. Instead he’d just let Stephen leave. In other situations Tony would have had a plethora of questions for the ring of fire that Stephen had stepped through, but questions about magic—the ‘Mystic Arts’—couldn’t be Tony’s focus, right now.
Stephen and the choices Tony had to make needed to be the focus for now.
Stephen. Tony hadn’t thought he’d need to make any more decisions, when it came to Stephen. He’d thought Stephen had made any future decisions defunct.
Except now that wasn’t the case. The last thing Tony’d expected to find when he’d gotten home today was Stephen begging FRIDAY to let Tony know he was there so they could talk. A part of Tony had wanted to turn around before Stephen realized he was there and walk back out the door and let FRIDAY send Stephen away. But he hadn’t been able to.
He had fully intended to send Stephen away himself. God, there hadn’t been a doubt in his mind that he was sending Stephen away. Stephen had made his position on their relationship very clear eight months ago. Tony had the proof of it hanging from his neck.
He reached up and touched the ring. The metal was cold against his fingers. Tony swallowed hard. It’d been eight months and he’d never taken the ring off. He’d tried to, a few times. Pepper and Rhodey had both told him to in their own ways, multiple times. But Tony just hadn’t been able to let go.
A part of him had hated himself for that.
Stephen had left him and sold his ring and thrown away everything they’d had. Why couldn’t Tony do the same? Why couldn’t Tony let go?
Except now…
A mugging.
Had Stephen really been mugged? Had the engagement ring Tony had given Stephen been stolen rather than sold?
Did it matter?
No. No. It couldn’t matter. Stephen had left him. Stephen had left him. Left him with nothing and had never looked back. Except… He took a deep breath. “Anything you need to tell me, FRIDAY?” he asked. “About any emails that may or may not have come in the past few months.”
FRIDAY didn’t answer immediately. “He hurt you, Boss,” she said finally. “He was supposed to love you and he hurt you. I didn’t want to let him hurt you again.”
Tony’s breath got caught in his chest. The emails were real. Stephen had never been the lying sort, so a part of Tony had known it had to be true. Now that FRIDAY had confirmed it, though, he didn’t know what to do with that information.
“So you hid the emails.”
“Yes, Boss,” FRIDAY said quietly. “I’m… I’m sorry. I wanted to protect you.”
Tony sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to talk about it, FRIDAY. You can’t make these sort of choices for me. But…” He took a deep breath. “But not right now.” Right now he needed to… He needed to see it all for himself. “For now. Let me see the emails.”
“Are you sure, Boss?”
A laugh escaped him. Because was he? He could say no, right now. He could tell Stephen it didn’t matter what he had or had not sent. He could tell Stephen that he’d left once and that was all that mattered. He could tell Stephen that it was over and had been since the moment Stephen had left.
“Boss?” FRIDAY asked again when Tony didn’t answer immediately.
“Yes,” Tony said, preparing himself. “I’m sure.”
His cellphone vibrated and Tony pulled it out of his pocket. His hands shook a little as he opened his email to find a new folder full of unread emails. There were 42. Tony calculated. Stephen had said he hadn’t emailed the first three months. Which meant five months worth of emails. Eight emails a month. Two a week. For a long moment all he could do was stare at the emails, trying to convince himself to open one.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring.
Finally, he pressed on the first email, opening it and forcing himself to read.
Tony,
I’m sorry. That’s the first thing I need to say. God. I’m so sorry. I should have said something to you before I left. I… I can’t say I should have never left, because… Because what I found… Tony, I can’t explain right now, but I will. As soon as I can, I will. But I think I’ve found the answers I need. Still, I shouldn’t have left without talking to you. Maybe we hadn’t said the words, yet, but that doesn’t matter, because I’d already made those promises to you the day I accepted your ring. I’m going to spend my life with you, good and bad, sickness and health, better and worse. This… Well, this isn’t the best start, but I can make it right.
I just hope you’re willing to forgive me.
Tony, I think I’ve found something. I think I’ve found a way to get my hands back. I don’t know how long this is going to take. But I’m going to be back. I’m going to fix my hands and come back to you. Everything has been a mess since my accident, but I’m going to fix it. I’m going to fix everything.
I love you, Tony.
Wait for me, please.
Stephen
Tony took a deep breath, dropping his phone onto the couch next to him.
Emotions twisted through him, frustration and pain and a little bit of anger. That was all Stephen had given him? An ‘I’m sorry. Can’t tell you anything. Wait for me.’ That was it after three months of silence. That was what Stephen had decided was worth saying?
“FRIDAY, del—” He stopped. Because he couldn’t delete those emails, not without reading them, first. Maybe this was the closure he needed. The thought made him want to laugh. Because the ring should have been closure enough eight months ago. Tony shouldn’t need this.
Except the ring had been stolen, not sold, and Tony loved Stephen just as much now as he had then and these emails claimed that Stephen still loved him. …The worst part was that if he let himself, the danger was too high that he’d believe it.
Could Tony risk that? Could he risk letting Stephen break him again?
He grabbed his phone again, opening the next email.
Tony,
I know you must be angry. It’s been three months. Three months and I realize, now, that I didn’t really tell you anything in that last email. It’s complicated, Tony, so much more complicated than I can ever explain in these emails. And I know, I know this doesn’t help, but I don’t know what to say that will. I will explain, I promise. I know that might not seem like much, now. But I just… I need you to trust me. Please, Tony, I know the last three months don’t look good. I know that I destroyed the trust between us. But please, please don’t let it erase the years that came before this.
I can fix this. I know I can fix this.
Trust me, Tony. Please.
I’m coming back. It’s just going to take me some time. But I promise you, I’m coming back to you.
I love you, Tony. I love you with everything I have.
Wait for me, please.
Stephen
Tony forced himself to keep reading, moving onto the next email and the next. The first month of emails restated essentially the same thing as the first two.
The emails started changing the second month. There were no more apologies. Instead Stephen talked about his new life. More about what he was doing, a mixture of vague comments of ‘learning’—what Tony now knew must be references to the ‘Mystic Arts’ that Stephen had never named in the emails—and more specific stories. About a man named Mordo who was training Stephen in self defense. About a librarian named Wong who Stephen was engaged in a game of tug-of-war over books that Stephen claimed he was winning. About the leader of the sanctuary Stephen had found who Stephen called TAO who seemed to find his constant questions exasperating, though she never stopped him from questioning further, even encouraged it, in weird ways.
It took a few emails before Tony really understood what Stephen was doing. Stephen was making it clear, or trying to, that even if Tony was silent, Stephen would ask Tony to be a part of his life regardless.
There were other small stories. An argument with a fellow student about music that Stephen swore he’d won. A mishap with translation that had almost gotten Stephen punched before he’d explained that he hadn’t been insulting anyone, he just had terrible pronunciation. A venture out into the streets of Kathmandu where he met a street vendor who sold the best momos and another who sold aloo chop that Stephen was sure Tony would love and that ‘maybe, when this is over, I can show you’.
Stephen did that a lot throughout the emails, referred to the future as though he thought they actually had one together. People he wanted Tony to meet, things he wanted to show Tony, experiences they could have together. Tony… Tony wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It seemed blindly optimistic. Maybe even foolishly so.
As far as Stephen had been aware, Tony had been ignoring Stephen despite his efforts to reach out. And yet Stephen still reached out. Stephen still wrote out the words I love you in every email. He didn’t always ask Tony to wait, but it was certainly still implied in most messages. Stephen hadn’t known that Tony had never gotten the emails. He’d never stopped sending them, though. Sure, some of them were short, a few lines long. Others spanned long paragraphs, wandering through topics and thoughts making Tony think of nights so long ago when they’d talked through the night, sometimes acting as each other’s sounding boards, sometimes complaining, sometimes brainstorming wild ideas.
He made it through the emails, slowing as he got to the last ones.
Tony,
Something happened.
I… I want to come home. I’m so close. The cure… it’s not what I thought. I can’t— Tony. TAO… she died. Mordo is gone. Everything is in chaos.
Things got ugly. There was a man, he had a vendetta. We stopped him. I stopped him before he could hurt anyone else. It was… I don’t know how to explain. I can’t.
Nothing makes sense right now. I can’t sleep without seeing… I want to come home. I need you, Tony.
But I can’t, yet. Things are… they’re bad, Tony. With TAO, Mordo, and some of the others all gone, things are messy, confused. They need me. I don’t think this is something I can turn my back on. This isn’t something I can leave behind. God. How am I going to explain this to you? You didn’t ask for any of this.
I can’t express how badly I want to find you. I want to climb into bed with you, curl into your side and ask you hold me. Maybe then the world won’t feel so terrifying.
Even when things were at their worst, I felt safe when you held me. Do you remember our last night together? You didn’t know it was the last night, even though I’d already made the decision to leave. You were working late… I was so afraid you wouldn’t come to bed, that I wouldn’t have one last night with you. But when I asked, you put everything away and came to bed. You held me. Sometimes I dream about it. The mornings after those dreams are always hard, the emptiness of my bed haunts me.
Will you still let me do that? Do you remember that last night? Or do you only remember that morning and the fight I picked with you? Worse, do you remember coming home that evening and realizing I was gone? I hope you remember that night; I hope you remember the love. It’s been almost eight months and… and I haven’t heard from you. Have I lost that forever?
I don’t even know if you even see these emails anymore. Maybe you send them straight to the trash. But Tony…
I love you.
It won’t be long, now. I swear, I’m coming back.
This world I found needs me, but I need you, Tony.
I love you.
Stephen
Tony’s hand tightened around his phone and he frowned at the email, trying to make sense of it. It was only two weeks ago. Something had clearly happened. Something very bad from the sounds of it. Something that had gotten people killed. The thought chilled him. How close had Stephen been to getting killed? Stephen hadn’t said anything about any of that when he’d been here. Nothing that had hinted of danger or pain.
But…
But something had happened. People had died. Stephen had needed to ‘stop’ someone before they could hurt anyone else. That could mean nothing good. Instinct made Tony want to find Stephen, wanted to make sure he was okay.
Tony didn’t even know where to start looking.
After a moment he moved onto the next email.
Tony,
I’m sorry about that last email. I’m not trying to pressure you. I can’t—won’t—do that to you. I was still rattled and reeling. Maybe I still am. The world feels like it’s changed irrevocably and I’m still trying to figure out how to respond to it. I’m trying to figure out where my place is, now.
I feel like my accident has happened all over again. Everything I thought I knew and understood has been torn apart and flipped around. Is this how you felt after New York? I thought I understood, then. No one had ever really expected aliens, the adjustment was necessary. But it hit you differently than it hit the rest of us and… and I think I understand now. That realization of how fragile things really are, that knowledge that something needs to be done to keep us all safe.
It’s strange. I’ve loved you for years, Tony. I still do. I always will. But I didn’t always understand you, if I’m honest, even when I tried to support you. We made things work, I really believe that. Understanding doesn’t have to be perfect for love to be real. But Tony… I think I understand it all so much better now.
The days are counting down, now.
I’ll see you soon.
As always, I love you.
Stephen
Tony stared at the email, trying to think things through. Stephen had told him about the ‘Mystic Arts’, but Tony had the feeling that things went far deeper than the glimpse of magic that Stephen had shown him. Tony hadn’t really had time to think about it, yet.
He still didn’t know what to think. He didn’t really have enough information for that.
Worry twisted in his chest. Stephen had looked okay when Tony had seen him, but he knew better than most how little appearances could mean. He’d done his own fair share of hiding his trauma and he knew how expert Stephen could be at hiding his pains when he needed to. They hadn’t hidden from each other in a long time, but it’d been eight months and Stephen… Stephen had said he didn’t want to pressure Tony.
He looked back at the emails. There was one unread email left.
Tony,
I didn’t expect to be gone this long, when I left. But then, I didn’t expect most of what has happened the last eight months. If I’m honest, I’m a little afraid to see you again. In some ways it might be easier to just… never come back, no matter how much I miss you. I could stay away and our relationship would stay Schrödinger’s Relationship. Is it alive or dead, Tony?
I look for your emails every day, and there’s never anything. Have you read them and chosen not to respond? The silent treatment has never been your style, but this isn’t a normal situation. Did you block my email after the first one came in and haven’t seen any of the others? You would have certainly been justified in your anger, even if I don’t want to imagine it.
Part of me feels like I should take these unanswered emails as a sign that you have no interest in my explanations or apologies.
Maybe that’s what you’d prefer.
I suppose I’m just stubborn. I want the chance to really explain. A part of me feels like if I can just see you, face to face, then maybe I can find a way to convince you to give me a chance to earn your forgiveness. And I suppose a part of me feels like as long as neither of us have said the words to officially end our relationship then I can still cling to it.
As long as the words are never put into the world, I can tell myself we’re still alive, just… trapped in a box searching for a way out.
Tomorrow morning I’ll be taking the steps to officialize my place in this world I found. But I can’t help but hope that tomorrow afternoon I’ll be able to reaffirm my place at your side, as well. Wong has told me not to get my hopes up.
I told him the truth about everything between us a few days ago. I hadn’t meant to, but… well, I was sleep-deprived and overly-caffeinated, as good as any truth serum. It was the first time I’d really talked about it. About you and me. About the mistakes I made and about the consequences of it all. Wong says to just let you go, that you’ve moved on.
Maybe he’s right.
You know me, though, Tony. Some things I just have to learn for myself.
I’ll see you soon, Tony.
I love you. I will always love you.
Stephen
Tony let out a heavy breath of air as he set his phone down, emotions writhing in his chest painfully. What was he supposed to do? He reached up, caught Stephen’s ring in his hand, twisting it in his fingers. There was so much he still didn’t know, so much he still didn’t understand. He almost wished he’d asked more about the Mystic Arts while Stephen had been here, maybe then he’d have the insight he needed to figure out what had happened to Stephen.
But he hadn’t asked for a reason. A very good reason, or it had felt like it, at the time. Curiosity had always been his weakness—Stephen had always been his weakness, combining the two would lead to one thing—and if he’d opened the door for that…
No, that was a door he hadn’t been able to risk opening.
But maybe it was already too late for that. Because Tony… He groaned, exhausted. He couldn’t think about this, right now. He needed to just shut his brain off for a minute—or at least shut off the part of his brain trying to dissect everything that Stephen had brought to mind—and the best way to do that would be to bury himself in the lab.
He pushed himself to his feet, shoving his phone into his pocket.
The lab was a sanctuary and he felt some of his tension escape as he fell into his project, sticking to something more for fun than for work—he’d always wanted a deep sea submarine, so why not?—and letting everything disappear except for calculations and conceptual construction.
“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted several hours later. “Colonel Rhodes has asked if you want to eat dinner with him tonight.”
Tony pulled back from his project, blinking past the hyperfixation. “Rhodey?” he asked. That was unexpected. Not that he and Rhodey didn’t eat together, but Rhodey rarely invited him. Which meant… “Did you tattle on me, FRIDAY?” That seemed unnecessary. “Because I don’t need interference.”
“Colonel Rhodes asked,” FRIDAY defended. “I was just being factual about today’s proceedings.”
Right. Tony sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll head up for dinner.” He stowed his work, trying to center his thoughts. He knew Rhodey was going to bring it up, because Rhodey was actually really bad at minding his own business when it came to his opinion on Stephen. Tony supposed it was good that Rhodey cared about him, but Tony’s relationship conundrum was not actually the part of Tony’s life that he wanted Rhodey overly invested in.
Still, no point delaying… okay, there was always a point in delaying, but this was one of those situations where Rhodey might come find him. If Tony was going to get interrogated, he would prefer to be interrogated while food was involved. Thankfully, Rhodey had brought take out, lounging in the living room, and Tony stole a carton of orange chicken and shoved himself into the corner of the couch, giving himself space between him and Rhodey and pretending to be entirely focused on his food.
Rhodey let him for a surprising six minutes. “Not to tell you how to live your life—”
“Have I ever let you tell me how to live my life?” Tony interrupted, momentarily amused at the thought. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s never happened.”
“—but I feel the need to remind you that Strange broke your heart,” Rhodey finished, ignoring Tony’s commentary. “He left you. Sold your ring. Didn’t bother to communicate with you. If he broke your heart once, what’s to stop him from doing it again?”
Tony grimaced, nudging his orange chicken around the carton. “Stephen says he was mugged,” he defended quietly. “He didn’t sell the ring.”
Rhodey did not look convinced. “Wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t abandoned you,” he pointed out. “It started there.”
It had. Tony really couldn’t deny that much, but at the same time. “Have you ever been at rock bottom?” Tony asked quiet. “Stephen had lost everything—”
“He hadn’t lost you,” Rhodey interrupted. “He had you and he still chose to walk away in search of a non-existent miracle.”
That was true. Stephen had still left.
Admittedly, though, the non-existent bit wasn’t quite accurate, since apparently there had been a miracle and Stephen just hadn’t chosen it—and if that still hurt… Tony tried not to think about it—in favor of something else, something more. Tony still had questions, Stephen hadn’t gone into that. Tony hadn’t asked, either, but… well, maybe he and Stephen did need another conversation.
There was still so much Tony didn’t understand.
“He’s not the first one to make a mistake in our relationship,” Tony said. “I put him through hell more than once. He stuck with me through it.”
Rhodey sighed, long and exhausted. “You can’t seriously be thinking about taking him back?”
Tony played with the ring around his neck, looking away from Rhodey to stare at the door. “There were a lot of misunderstandings,” Tony said. “It wasn’t as bad as… it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. The ring was stolen and he did reach out the last five months. There was just unexpected, but well-intended interference. Which means he kept reaching out even when I wasn’t giving him any encouragement. He didn’t give up on us.”
“And that’s enough?” Rhodey asked, tone skeptical.
That was the question, wasn’t it? “I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “I asked Stephen to give me a little time to figure things out.” He laughed, not entirely sure what he wanted to say. “I never expected him to come back.” And now that Stephen had… Tony didn’t know what to do.
Because he had missed Stephen constantly, but… but he’d learned to live with that ache in his chest. He’d learned to survive the loss of Stephen. If Stephen came back… if Stephen came back then Tony risked losing him again. Could Tony survive that?
“Just… be careful,” Rhodey said. “You’ve survived without him. You still will.” Rhodey paused. “And maybe this is what you need,” he added. “Some closure so you can let go.”
Tony huffed a laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe this is what I need.” He let go of the ring and let it drop back onto his chest.
He had a week to think about it.
Stephen’s heart raced in his chest as he entered the compound again. It’d been a week, a very stressful week. To say he’d been on edge would be an understatement. He’d gone eight months without Tony, another week shouldn’t have made much of a difference. It felt entirely different, though. He couldn’t help but replay the conversation he’d had with Tony, dissecting everything he said, trying to figure out if he’d said what he needed to, if there were things he should have said that he hadn’t.
FRIDAY directed him to the same room as last time, her tone a little sullen.
Tony was waiting for him when he got there, gaze hooded and expression difficult to read. “Hello, Tony,” Stephen said quietly, stopping just within the doorway.
“Stephen,” Tony said, matching Stephen’s tone. “Got to admit, I’m mildly impressed with the fact that you are here at the exact week mark, down to the minute.”
Despite himself, Stephen laughed. “I’ve always been the punctual one between us,” he said. “Pretty sure Pepper depended on me to get us to those galas on time. Not that I always succeeded, when faced with you.”
“Fashionably late is completely acceptable,” Tony said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “That’s why they call it fashionable. And you can’t claim you didn’t enjoy some of the ways I made us late. I always made being late worth your while.”
Well, Stephen couldn’t deny that. Tony had learned exactly how to distract Stephen when he wanted. Stephen couldn’t say he’d minded. It’d always been worth it and Stephen had still managed to get them there close to on time. “True,” Stephen said. He took a deep breath and stepped further into the room, moving to the couch Tony was sitting on.
Tony stood the moment Stephen sat, leaving Stephen flailing at the abrupt adjustment. “Coffee?” Tony asked.
“Yes,” he said, swallowing past the unease. “I’d like that.”
“Still take it the same way?” Tony asked. “Coconut creamer?” He reached the counter and Stephen realized the coffee was already almost brewed. Tony must have started the coffee when Stephen had arrived.
“Yes,” Stephen said. “Please.”
Stephen sat, trying not to fidget as Tony fixed up their coffee before bringing it back to them and setting the coffee on the table in front of Stephen. He’d used the two handle coffee mug, the one that made it easier for Stephen to keep steady while drinking
They sat together, both quietly drinking their coffee. Silence wasn’t abnormal for them, but it was normally far more comfortable than this. Finally, Stephen broke. He sat his coffee cup on the table, setting his hands on his lap. “So,” he said. “It’s been a week.” He forced himself to look up from his coffee, really meeting Tony’s gaze. “I’ll respect your decision,” he said. “I hope you know that. I don’t want to pressure you or…” He swallowed. “I want to come back. I don’t want you to doubt that. I want us to give this another chance. I love you, Tony. I do.” He met Tony’s gaze, trying to contain his desperation. “But I don’t want you to… I don’t want you to let me back if it’s the wrong choice for you.”
Tony met his gaze for a long moment before looking away. “I do love you, Stephen,” he said quietly. “I will always love you. But that…” He took a deep breath. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to go back to where we were.”
In his chest, Stephen’s heart twisted and shattered. “I under—”
“But that doesn’t mean I want to give up on us, either,” Tony interrupted. His hand came up, fiddling with the ring again. “We can’t start over from scratch, we’ve both changed too much for that; I can’t go back to where we were, though. I just… I’m not capable of that. Not right now. So… so let’s take a step back. Try to date again, figure out where we stand. Figure out if the future we wanted… if that’s something we both still want. I don’t know what these last eight months have done to you, what they’ve done for you.” Tony laughed. “You’ve chosen a new world, Stephen and… And I don’t know if there’s any space for me in that.”
“There is,” Stephen said, words come out quickly, relief and hope mixing violently in his chest. “It’s… it’s different, don’t get me wrong. But… but there’s always place for you with me.”
Tony’s lip twitched up in a tired sort of amusement. “I’m a little less sure about that, but… But I want to give it a chance. I want to give us a chance.” He looked down. “Someday I want to see this ring around your neck again. I want to get there again. I just… I can’t go there now.”
“I understand,” Stephen said. His own gaze dropped to the ring. “I want to get to that point, too, Tony. I… I understand it takes time to heal and time to get back to where we should be. But I’m willing to put in that time, to put in that effort. It—you—are worth it.”
Tony’s smile turned a little softer, a little realer. “I think you’re worth it, too,” he said. “Just… just give me time.”
“As much time as you need,” Stephen promised. He shifted closer and reached out a hand to Tony. “I’m not going anywhere.”