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“Ready? Now!”
At Cap’s command, Tony fired both hand repulsors along with the unibeam, joining the others in their assault on Thanos. It drained the suit’s power to single digits -- but it was their final stand, their last chance to save what was left of their world and avenge those they had lost.
The explosion was more forceful than he’d expected, blasting him backwards and tumbling him end over end. A red glow surrounded him like an aura. “Curiouser and curiouser,” Tony mumbled, his vision tunneling as he plummeted down into a crater, a pit blasted into the earth.
He kept falling for much longer than he should have, as if the hole burrowed miles below the surface. Finally reaching the bottom knocked the wind out of him. Might have given him a concussion as well, as Tony stared in wonder at what looked vaguely like a hotel lobby. His armor had somehow disappeared along the way, leaving him dressed in t-shirt and jeans instead of the skin tight undersuit. Something very, very strange was going on.
Gasping for breath, Tony struggled to his feet, trying to get a handle on his situation. Pepper swept in, dressed in one of her sharply tailored white business suits. Looking at her watch instead of him, she said, “I’m late, I’m late,” and hurried down a long hallway, disappearing through the door at the end.
It took Tony a minute to react; he hadn’t been sure if he’d ever see her again. He'd called Pepper after seeing what Thanos’ army had done to LA and when she didn’t pick up, he’d feared the worst. To see her here gave him an odd sense of hope and he had to follow.
But he'd been fooled by a trick in perspective; the hallway was actually quite short, narrowing quickly to a door that barely came up to his knee. This wasn’t possible; there was no way Pepper could have walked through that door. But he had to follow her; to make sure she really was alive.
Awkwardly kneeling down to look more closely at at the door, his attention was caught by the old-fashioned ornate door knocker; it looked like Lang’s bug-guy helmet. Tony startled back when the man’s voice came from it.
“Sorry, Stark. Your ego is too big to fit through here. But go take a look on the table.” The knocker tilted its head to the left.
Tony turned to see a table that he could swear hadn’t been there before. Two silver discs rested on its surface - one with a blue center, one with red, both marked “Squeeze Me.” Uh-huh. This was all starting to feel bizarrely familiar. He picked up one of the discs and pressed it between two fingers.
The floor receded as he shot up, growing in size just like Lang did in that damn suit of his. Tony’s head hit the ceiling, forcing him to crouch, then to sit, stretching his legs across the room. “Wrong one, genius.” Lang’s voice was muffled, as Tony’s foot covered the hallway.
The table was down by his hip, thankfully still upright, if doll-sized. The other disc didn’t look much larger than a grain of sand. Tony touched the tip of one finger to it, hoping it would stick. He could barely feel it against his skin as he pressed finger and thumb together. A wave of vertigo washed over Tony as he shrunk back down to his usual height, then even further, down to a size where he could easily fit through the door.
“Not such a big man after all, are you, Stark?” The knocker chuckled as the door swung open. On the other side, Tony stepped onto a helicarrier hangar deck, which was empty except for two familiar figures, identically dressed in SHIELD uniforms.
“Did either of you see Pepper?” he asked his teammates, unsure if she had been just a figment of his imagination. Then again, he was pretty sure all of this was just a fabrication of his addled mind to start with.
Romanov pointed to her left, and Barton pointed to his right. “She went that-away,” they chorused. “Or was it, that-away?” they added, pointing in the opposite direction and crossing arms in the process. It would be funny if he weren’t so desperate to catch up to Pepper.
“C’mon guys, a little help?” he pleaded.
“What else would you expect from a double agent, Tony? Obfuscation is the name of the game. That’s logic.” Romanov replied, with an unsettling grin.
“Okay -- fine. Have a nice day.” He tried to go around them, but Barton blocked his way, saying, “You can’t go yet, the visit has just started! Would you like to play hide and seek?” His eyes started glowing an eerie blue, and Tony backed away.
“Uh, no. Thanks just the same.”
“But if you stay long enough, we just might have a battle!” She poked Barton in the side, and they started wrestling. Tony skirted around them and continued across the hangar deck to a figure moving in the shadows.
It was Strange, pacing a slow circle around the edge of a large set of symbols drawn on the deck. And because Tony’s imagination was apparently having a field day, Strange’s nose had taken on a suspiciously beak-like appearance and his cloak was masquerading as a frock coat.
“Let me guess,” Tony drawled, “We have to run around in circles until the portal opens.” Strange nodded and picked up the pace, motioning Tony to follow behind him.
“Backward, forward, inward, outward, bottom to the top,” he intoned, “never a beginning, there can never be a stop.” Tony rolled his eyes, but it worked; the sparkling golden portal formed, and Strange motioned for Tony to step through.
“Thanks, Dumbledore -- see you around.”
Tony next found himself in a familiar-looking barn, with Old One-Eye himself, Director Emeritus Fury glaring down at him from atop the bales of hay. “Who are you?” The question came out punctuated by puffs of smoke from his cigar.
“Hell if I know at the moment, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me. Just make it quick so I can catch up to Pepper and make sure she’s okay.”
Fury pulled a folder out of his coat and opened it up. “Merchant of Death. Textbook narcissist. Self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Not recommended.” He closed the folder. “Let me ask again, Stark. Who are you?”
Tony went with the obvious answer. “I am Iron Man.”
“And that’s why she’s running away. You still can’t choose between her and the suits, can you?” Fury narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you should find someone you have more in common with.”
That was a low blow. Tony loved Pepper, and he always would. But he had never been good for her. As for someone who wouldn’t make him choose -- well, he wasn’t ready to admit that possibility yet, especially to this particular manifestation of his subconscious.
“Are we done here, Saint Nick?”
“I ain’t never been a saint, Tony. But yeah -- you go do what you gotta do.” Fury gestured toward the barn doors.
Tony pushed through and entered the lobby of the New York headquarters of SI. Pepper was standing there tapping her foot. A flood of relief washed over him; she was all right. “It’s about time,” she snapped impatiently, taking him by surprise. “Go down to Mr. Stark’s workshop and see if you can find the quarterly reports I asked him to sign off on. They should be in a red folder.” She turned to talk to one of the other executives standing next to her.
Nonplussed -- there hadn’t been a flicker of recognition in her eyes -- he took the elevator to his workshop. He could take a hint; even if she were still alive out there in the real world, it was time to let her go. Dum-E excitedly greeted him at the door. “Hey buddy! Nice to know someone’s happy to see me.” Tony started rifling through the papers on what was supposed to be his desk, but instead served as just another horizontal surface for things to pile up on. U rolled over and handed him a smoothie. Tony absently took a sip before remembering his current reality.
“Goddamn it,” Tony cursed as he felt his body start to grow larger again; Lewis Carroll obviously had a size kink or two. As before, he ended up having to sit on the floor, with his head banging against the ceiling. He had kicked over several benches, but thankfully hadn’t harmed either of his ‘bots, who both craned their camera assemblies up at him and beeped distressingly. “Trust me, it’s just as weird on this end.”
While it had been fun while it lasted, Tony was done with this trippy hallucination of a dream. He tried every trick he could think of -- telling himself he would wake up at the count of five, pinching himself, trying to read something out of a book (difficult when the book itself was the comparative size of a postage stamp) -- but nothing worked.
Okay, so he was going to have to play by the rules. He racked his brain to remember how Alice got herself out of this situation. Tony was afraid to drink anymore of the smoothie, as he had nowhere else to go if he got any bigger.
Happy came to the rescue, walking through the door with a bag of cheeseburgers in hand. “Hey, Boss,” he called out, “thought I’d bring you some lunch -- holy shit! What the hell is going on?” He stopped so abruptly he nearly fell down the rest of the flight of stairs.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Tony answered, keeping his voice down so as not to rattle the walls. He made a ‘gimme’ motion and, eyes as big as saucers, Happy tossed over the bag and fled. “There goes Hogan,” Tony murmured to himself.
Figuring there was no point to trying to unwrap them, and that he could probably use the fiber anyways, Tony tossed the whole thing in his mouth. By the time he was done chewing, he was the right size again. He took the elevator back up to the except -- of course -- it wasn’t there anymore. Instead, he was standing in an old fashioned kitchen where Wanda stirred a caldron of what smelled like paprikash while holding a baby to her shoulder.
She set the oversized spoon down to hold the baby out at arms’ length, Tony was both fascinated and repelled to see an infantile version of Vision peeking out from the blankets. Wanda bounced him up and down as she crooned,
Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes;
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows it teases
Just as she finished her little ditty, the cauldron boiled over, and they both disappeared behind a huge cloud of steam. When the air cleared, Wanda was gone, and the adult version of Vision had been joined by Banner, who recited, with a sad, resigned smile:
Beware the Jabberwock, my friend!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
To accompany Bruce’s recitation, Vision pulled out what Tony could only assume was a vorpal sword from under his cape. It was deceptively light for its size, and made a faint ringing sound as he swung it -- vibranium, most likely. Tony had a sinking suspicion as to what, or who the Jabberwock would be, based on the presence of his two friends. He turned at the sound of a malevolent chuckle, and found a dark (and presumably tulgey, according to the poem) wood crowding in around him.
“So, we meet again, Stark,” Ultron said, stepping out from behind a tree. “Do I really still occupy so much of your thoughts? I’m touched, truly I am. But now it’s just you and me. No armor, no fellow superheroes.”
Ultron threw a punch, and Tony was pleasantly surprised to find his reflexes equal to the task. He evaded the blow, then swung his sword, cutting a deep gash into the robot’s arm. The next few minutes were a tense round of dodging and charging, striking and blocking, attacking and retreating. But he knew all of Ultron’s vulnerable spots, and, miraculously, was able to keep up with the robot’s assault.
“Obviously you haven’t read the poem all the way through,” Tony gritted out, as he finally thrust the blade deep into Ultron’s chest. It didn’t snicker-snack, but the squeal of metal yielding before it was just as gratifying. He considered cutting off his foe’s head as poetic justice, but he didn’t think he had the strength.
As Tony caught his breath, another familiar adversary came out of the woods. He was dressed in green and black, clapping slowly with a wide grin on his face. “Well done, Stark.”
“Is this your doing, Loki?” Tony raised the sword and pointed it at the God of Mischief, who held up his hands and took a step back.
“Not at all, more’s the pity. You made the mistake of unleashing the Reality stone with your attack on the Mad Titan. My powers are but child’s play compared to what it can do.” Loki replied, looking a bit put out.
“I don’t suppose you could help me find my way,” Tony asked, as Loki seemed the most self-aware of anyone else he’d met so far.
“Well, that depends on what you want to do.” Loki retorted with a sly smile. “Do you follow your old flame, or search for someone new? Perhaps a beacon of freedom?” He had apparently tapped into the same deep-flowing River of Denial as Fury had earlier, dammit.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tony replied, with a sigh. He knew in his heart that he and Pepper were better off as friends and colleagues than lovers, and he’d never have a chance with Captain America anyways.
“Then it really doesn’t matter which way you go, does it?” Loki grinned widely as he stepped back into the darkness. Just as Tony expected, the demigod’s smile remained long after the rest of him had disappeared.
Gathering his thoughts, Tony started down the path in front of him. At least he’d finally admitted to himself that he carried a torch for Steve. He’d tried to deny it, blame it on the dregs of a teenage crush. But even with all that had happened in the last twelve months -- the Accords, that awful revelation about his parents’ death and the fight that tore them apart with only a threat to their entire world bringing them back together -- he still had feelings for his friend and teammate.
The path led Tony into a clearing, where a large khaki tent had been set up. He heard raucous singing from inside, and when he pushed aside the flap, there was a table with military mess kits and other detritus of camp life scattered across its surface. Sergeant Barnes and Sam Wilson sat on either side of Cap’s original shield, was propped up in a chair at the head of the table.
Barnes was dressed in a WWII era uniform, with a large top hat perched incongruously on his head, Wilson wore paratrooper gear, and looked a little more buck-toothed than usual. They both held mugs of beer, swinging them left and right as they sang. Upon spotting Tony, they abruptly cut off their song, and started repeating, “No room! No room!” making shooing gestures in his direction.
“Aw, c’mon, guys,” Tony said, “All I want is to sit down for a bit, maybe join you in drink. Assuming we have something to celebrate,”
“I don’t think so, Tony,” Sam said, holding up his mug, “Besides, this isn’t the tall and frosty treat you’re thirsty for, is it?” He waggled his eyebrows,
“And like we said, Stark,” Barnes added, draping his arm casually across the top of the shield. “Between me and Sam here, there ain’t no room.”
He couldn’t help but think of Steve’s declaration: “He’s my friend, Tony.” A friend he’d fought Tony over, and given up everything for, including that shield. How could Tony think of competing with a life-long friendship? And Sam, who had followed Rogers into the whole shitshow in DC after having known him for what, two days? He’d been all too willing to take the fall for Cap at the airport and ended up stuck in the Raft for what he’d had to assume was the rest of his life.
“Okay, boys. I get it. I know when I’m not welcome.” Tony held up his hands in surrender as he backed out of the tent and headed back into the gloom of the woods.
“Don’t let those assholes get to you, Tones,” a familiar voice called out. It was Rhodey, perched up on top of a high wall, his legs -- clad in their prosthetics -- dangling over the side. “And by ‘assholes’, I mean guys who don’t know a tenth of what you’ve been through over the past decade.”
“Thanks, platypus. Sorry about all this,” and he gestured at Rhodey’s precarious position. “My subconscious has a perverse sense of humor, with the ‘great fall’ and everything.”
“It’s all right. You put me back together as best you could.” Even Rhodey’s kindly-meant response hurt a little. “They do kind of have a point, though. Rogers has always meant more to you than you meant to him.”
“You wound me, Rhodey-bear,” Tony replied, trying to make light of the double punch .
“Anyways, I got some good news and some bad news for you.”
“Bad news first, I suppose.”
“You’ve still got your big boss fight to go. The Jabberbot was just the warmup.”
“Of course,” Tony sighed. “Let me guess, The Queen of Hearts. Know who it is?”
Rhodey mimed zipped lips. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise. The good news is that you can get yourself out of this place. You just have to figure it out -- and that’s something you’re pretty damned good at, Tones. Remember who you are.” Rhodey wasn’t normally much for compliments, and even though Tony knew it was only his subliminal self speaking, it still meant a lot. “You’d better get going.” Rhodey made a sharp nod towards the path to urge Tony on his way.
“See you on the flip side, Rhodey-bear.” Tony made a sketchy salute and returned to the trail. After a few minutes’ walking, Tony encountered a hedge maze. He wended his way down the path, eventually making his way to a large, well-manicured lawn.
“It’s about time, son.” Howard stood on the other side of the lawn, his tie the color of fresh blood. He loomed over the shrubs surrounding him and was accompanied by a diminutive Obadiah. Son of a bitch, Tony thought, the Reality Stone sure as hell had his number.
“Hey, Pops. Long time no see. Let me guess, I’m being put on trial for doing something better than you. Not that you’d ever admit it of course.”
“You could have done better, Tony, but once again, you’ve disappointed me.” Howard intoned. “You were supposed to keep us all safe; not dismantle the heart of our company. Imagine what we would have had by now. Satellites monitoring the skies 24/7. Weapons that would have made us both feared and respected.”
“Well, if your little buddy there,” Tony gestured disparagingly at Obadiah, “hadn’t been double-dealing, I might have done more along those lines. As it was, I think I did a pretty good job.”
Howard ignored Tony’s comment. “At least you showed some promise when you developed the Iron Legion and Ultron.”
“Is that so, Dad?” Tony sneered, “You know he turned out to be a bit of a murderbot, right? Wanted to wipe the earth clean of all humankind.”
“The program needed some tweaking, but the concept was sound.” Howard replied. “Humankind needs to evolve to survive; culling is part and parcel of the process.”
“Survival of the Fittest, Darwin had it right,” Obadiah added, nodding vigorously.
“Order only comes through pain, son.” Howard said as he slowly morphed into Johann Schmidt; the erstwhile leader of Hydra also known as the Red Skull. Obadiah changed as well, into a mousy, bespectacled man that Tony recognized as Arnim Zola.
“Thanos could have brought that order,” Schmidt thundered. “But you and your paltry band of companions had to destroy the gauntlet -- scattering the stones and their power. Chaos and entropy will once again rule the day. You failed, Anthony Edward Stark, and for that, you must pay the price.”
A platoon of masked Hydra soldiers came forward joined by a gang of Ten Rings terrorists. Tony stood his ground as Rhodey’s words came back to him. “Remember who you are.”
He slowly smiled, even as the goons formed a semi-circle in front of him. “Weren’t you paying attention, Schmidt? My friends and me? We are Guardians and we are Avengers -- what you call chaos, we call a typical Tuesday.” Tony retorted. “As for you and your goons? Why, you’re nothing but a pack of cards!”
With audible pops, each figure suddenly flattened, turning two-dimensional. Tony spread his arms wide and a blast of air blew past him, scattering his former foes far and wide.
When the dust settled, Tony was alone in the center of the maze. Suddenly exhausted, he bent over, bracing his hands on his knees and breathing hard. “Any time now,” he muttered. “This is where the story ends, isn’t it? C’mon already.....” Nothing changed; the scent of roses still hung strong in the air, and the birds sang sweetly, without a care in the world.
Then there was a rustle of branches, and Tony looked up to see a figure in shining silver armor riding a white horse. “Sorry I’m late,” Steve said, looking around with an amused smile. “But it looks like you took care of everything after all. You didn’t need me.”
Tony shook his head slowly. “That’s not true, Cap. I do need you. You’re my teammate, and my friend.” Might as well go for broke at this point. After all, he’d only be confessing to himself. “And you’re so much more. I love you, Steve. I have for years. I’ve done a lousy job of showing it, sure, but--”
Steve’s hand was suddenly on his cheek, a soft caress contrasting with his intense gaze. “I know, Tony. I love you, too. Please, come home.” He bent down to press their lips together in a gentle kiss. The contact sent an electric charge through every nerve of Tony’s body. Helpless to resist, he put his arms around Steve’s shoulders and felt strong arms lifting him up.
Tony opened his eyes. He was in a hospital bed, the sharp smell of disinfectant replacing the scent of roses; the beeps and hums of medical equipment taking the place of the birds in the trees. But Steve was still there, just a few inches above him like before, his gorgeous blue eyes now full of concern.
“Tony?”
“Yeah,” he rasped in reply. His throat was sore, hell, his whole body was sore and stiff. “What happened? Did we...”
“Yes, thank god. Your idea worked -- blasted the gauntlet to pieces. We retrieved five of the six stones, but the red one turned to dust. It surrounded you, got into the suit somehow.” Steve looked stricken as he explained the aftermath of the battle. “Strange and Loki got it corralled, contained but it was too late. You were out cold and wouldn’t wake up. Had to pry you out of the suit.” Steve paused and swallowed thickly. “It’s been almost three days, Tony.”
“Didn’t feel like that long.” Tony replied, confused by Steve’s emotional reaction. It’s not as if they’d had time to do much more than barely mend fences between them before facing Thanos.
“We tried everything to get through to you, Tony,” Steve replied, his voice gone soft and a little shaky. “According to Strange, you were in some sort of dream world. You had him running in circles and spouting nonsense. Wanda said even less about what she saw; called it a children’s story.” Steve shook his head a little. “And then Thor told Loki to try as well. I guess he had a little better luck -- he said he was actually able to talk to you. But you twisted his words and wouldn’t listen to him.”
“Huh, imagine that.” Tony said tartly, wondering what else the God of Mischief had told Steve.
“I knew you wouldn’t like it, but we didn’t have any other choice. There wasn’t any medical reason you weren’t waking up.” Steve took Tony’s hand, carefully avoiding the IV line as he laced their fingers together. “No one knew what to do.”
Tony’s heart beat faster at the contact; the machines he was hooked up to betraying him with every beep, but Steve didn’t seem to notice. “Rhodes and Peter were here til just a few hours ago. I sent them to get some rest. Poor kid was practically asleep on his feet.”
“He pushes himself so hard,” Tony said, thinking of everything Peter had done since he’d dragged the kid to Germany with him.
“Wonder where he got that from,” Steve replied, a small smile quirking up one corner of those perfect lips. He was looking the worse for wear as well, with dark circles under his eyes and dust from the battle still in his hair. Had he been here that whole time too? Tony longed to ask why, but didn’t dare.
“So, what finally brought me back?” he inquired instead. “Did the good doctor administer an adrenaline shot or L-dopa? Maybe he and Wanda tag-teamed on some mumbo-jumbo?”
Steve suddenly blushed and looked away. “Well, after what they said, about you being stuck in some sort of fantasy world or fairy tale, it got me thinking. If magic was involved, maybe we needed to follow those kinds of rules. Besides, it couldn’t hurt.”
“Wait a minute, Cap,” Tony said, suddenly realizing that maybe the finale of his subconscious adventure hadn’t just been his imagination. “Are you saying you went all Prince Charming on me? Did we... kiss?”
Steve shook his head and wouldn’t meet Tony’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It was selfish, and stupid and I won’t ever--”
“Hey now,” Tony interrupted softly, tilting Steve’s chin up with his free hand. “First off, it obviously worked. Secondly, you’re neither selfish nor stupid. Lastly... I’m glad you did and am desperately hoping that you’ll kiss me again. Like, maybe, now-ish.”
Steve let out a soft huff of laughter. “You mean... it’s okay?”
“So much more than okay, sunshine,” Tony replied, leaning forward as best he could. “C’mere, before everyone figures out I’m awake.”