Chapter Text
It didn’t take long for Stephen to realise he was drowning.
This wasn’t the first time he had drowned, in fact, it had been happening a lot lately. Having reign over the currents of time meant he often found himself in situations that were repeated over and over—but one never really gets used to the feeling of water filling their lungs.
And this might really be the final time, thought Stephen, as he felt his shoulder blade crack against a rock.
The waves were particularly cruel today; swallowing, regurgitating and spitting him out just long enough to cling onto some shrapnels of hope before taking him under again. The fourth time he went under, he felt his leg catch between the teeth of a piece of broken rotting wood. He swung like a doll, coughing up water, before he finally managed to get a hold of his foot. As he grappled to free himself, he felt the temperature of the water begin to take its toll.
It happened quickly; the ocean was never known for it’s patient nature. The coldness froze his joints and split through his muscles, leaving him unable kick his legs or move his arms to cast a spell.
And maybe magic was what got him into this mess in the first place. Too much spiritual magic, too much black magic and more importantly, too many presses of the reset button, as if time was just a game to be played with. Maybe, most probably, this was magic finally catching up with him and slapping him in the face.
Depressingly, he had no excuse; he’d been warned many times.
Stephen let the waves toss and pull him. His body was now completely numb and motionless, save for his hands, which still managed to shake below the water. If he weren’t in such a dire situation, he would have laughed. All he could do now was grapple with consciousness and helplessly watch as the light from the surface moved further away.
⚓⚓
The next time Stephen opened his eyes, (shocked that there even was a next time,) he was vaguely aware of being tied to a pole.
“Don’t you think the ropes are a little excessive?”
“Nope.”
“But triple-knotted?”
“You can never be too careful on these seas, Pete.”
“No offense, Captain, but if this guy turns out to be one of Thanos’ magic minions—”
“Natasha—”
“—and we all end up as shark bait, it’ll be on your head.”
“Duly noted.”
Ignoring the throbbing pain at both sides of his head, Stephen did his best to bring his vision into focus. The good news was: he wasn’t dead. He was on a boat. The bad news was: he had likely broken at least five bones in his body and was surrounded by people who didn’t seem to want him there.
“Excuse me,” he croaked; his throat felt like it had been stretched and rubbed with sandpaper, “Mind telling me where I am?”
All three people turned to stare down at him, obviously not expecting their guest to wake up so soon. One of them, Stephen noticed, was just a boy, couldn’t be older than 17. He wore a red bandana around his neck and an innocent smile that made him jarring, when compared to the other two. On his left stood a woman with a glare that could pierce metal and on his right, stood the man who spoke up first. “On a boat,” he said, stepping closer, “Probably the best one you’ll find. Not to boast.” He paused for a second. “Who are you?”
Stephen squinted up at the man. He had a handsome face, admittedly , and facial hair that mirrored his own. It was a face he almost recognised; a face he might have skimmed over in a newspaper or two . “A better question: who are you people?” Stephen asked.
“I asked first.”
Stephen’s brow furrowed. “You kidnapped me and tied me to—what is this—a mast? So I’m reserving the right to ask first.”
The man scoffed incredulously. “We saved you from drowning!”
“People that save people don’t usually tie them up afterwards.”
“I’m Peter!” said Peter. “If anyone’s interested.” The boy stepped forward and raised a hand in greeting , much to the dismay of his two accomplices. “We’re the Avengers,” he added enthusiastically.
“Peter, I told you, we’re not the Avengers anymore.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot…”
“Oh god, you’re pirates,” Stephen groaned. Pirates were the thing he wanted least right now. At first he wasn’t sure he could imagine anything worse than drowning, but if he were made to sit through a sea shanty, that would probably take the cake. “I have nothing. Nothing worth anything to you.” He nodded down at his almost non-existent clothes. “Throw me back in the sea.”
“No, no, we’re not pirates,” said the man. “We’re more like—” he gestured for words “—privateers?”
“Have you seen Pirates of the Caribbean?” Peter interjected. “We’re, like, the Pirate Police. We’re the Antipirates.”
“Kid, we are not the Antipirates.”
“I think it sounds pretty good…”
The man rolled his eyes. “Alright,” he breathed, turning his attention back to Stephen. On closer inspection, Stephen noted that he had kind eyes. Tired, even.
“You’re currently on the Iron Voyager. My ship. And I’m Tony Stark. The Captain.” He held a hand out to Stephen but retracted it awkwardly when he realised that Stephen couldn’t shake it because he was tied up. “That’s Peter, of course, and this is Natasha Romanov,” he continued, then held his arms out dramatically, “My crew.”
“A crew composed of three people,” said Stephen, twisting his arms in the ropes.
“Five, actually. The rest are elsewhere.”
“Impressive.”
Tony decided this person was both exceedingly annoying yet also incredibly engaging. There was something about him that made his curiosity bubble. “Alright, I told you our names now tell us yours.”
“Stephen Strange. Doctor Stephen Strange,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. ‘Now, is there a reason you have me tied to a pole half-naked, or do you just like the way it looks?”
Tony almost spluttered, But before he could think of shoot something back, he was interrupted.
“Because you’re a sea witch,” said Natasha, piping up from where she was standing. If Stephen weren’t stuck to the mast he would have jumped. The woman had an incredible talent for sneaking up on people. Not to mention the cutlass in her hand that he really didn’t want to be on the other end of. “And we don’t want any trouble on our ship. Especially not now.”
“You think I’m Ursula,” Stephen deadpanned. He sighed. Her allegation wasn’t entirely groundless, though. Stephen had magic running through his veins; there was so much of it, that he was practically a feeding ground for all sorts of mystical creatures and bacteria. “Well I’m not. Sorry,” he said plainly.
“Don’t lie to us, Doc,” Tony circled him, “I know a sea witch when I see one.”
He knew he was being a bit unfair, interrogating an injured man he had just fished from the sea like this, but Tony’s past encounters with magic were not particularly pleasant ones.
“I think you’re going a bit overboard with the accusations, Captain—”
“Careful, Strange, or you might end up being the one—” Tony cast a thumb over his shoulder and made a noise “—thrown overboard.”
“Mr Star—I mean, Captain!” Peter cried, “You’re not actually gonna toss him out?!”
“He’ll be fine. I’m sure he can, uh, do some Merlin shit and turn into a seahorse or something.”
“If I could do that, I wouldn’t be drowning in the first place,” said Stephen, in a vaguely irritated tone. He had surprised himself with the amount of snarky responses he’d managed to put out earlier, but was beginning to feel the full weight of almost drowning. He was tired, bleeding, hungry and looked like he had been dragged across the seabed. All he wanted to do was curl up in his cloak (which he didn’t have) and sleep for the next century. Tony must’ve picked up on this, because there were faint lines of concern and regret drawn at his forehead.
“Look, I’m not a sea witch, I’m very human,” promised Stephen. “I’m not trying to harm anyone. I was passing through, got picked up by a bunch of pirates, robbed, and then thrown out.” He was practically pleading now, hoping his tone was sincere enough to satisfy them. “And I just happen to be well-versed in the Mystic Arts. I’m a sorcerer. You wouldn’t want to see some of the things that live deep down there. I’m the person that keeps them at bay. Without me, they’d swallow up your ship in an instant.”
“I doubt that,” said Tony, but his expression had softened. “Have you ever seen a ship like this? It’s defences are pretty much impenetrable. It’s—”
“The strongest ship on the sea, we know,” Natasha said, with a light laugh.
Stephen couldn’t deny it. He had never encountered a ship like the Iron Voyager. Everything about it--everything he had seen so far--was extraordinary. The hull of the ship was like a quilt; patches of different metal cobbled together to create a sturdy yet sleek effect. The bowsprit reached far out across the sea, and looked to double as some sort of cannon. Most noticeably, from where he slumped, was that the rigging was everywhere. Yards of it hanging and criss-crossing from the sails like a mass of broken spider web. Mounted across the rim of the ship were an array complicated-looking gizmos, some of which looked mildly dangerous. Finally there was the fact that the upper deck looked like a Miami penthouse. The end result was something that could only be described as the love child of a cruise ship, a battleship and a science lab.
“It certainly is something,” said Stephen, taking in the view. Tony cast him a proud smirk. The Voyager hadn’t even been around that long. He’d thrown it together from scraps after his last ship was, well, taken. But that only made it more brilliant and proved that Stark’s handiwork was truly unrivalled. “So you’re not making me walk the plank?” He coughed, grimacing as the rope around his waist scratched against bruised skin.
“Nah. We don’t even have a plank. We’ll drop you off at the nearest harbour.”
Stephen seemed to mull this over for a few seconds. “I’d rather come with you,” he said. “I have to pick up what got stolen from me.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Nope, sorry wizard,” he said, “This is a pirate ship not a bus service.”
“We’re on a dangerous mission. No room for stowaways,” Natasha added.
Peter frowned. “I thought this was a privateer ship…”
Stephen bit his lip, desperate. Without his cloak, he was restricted to the ground. Without his sling ring, there would be no convenient escapes. Without the Eye of Agamotto he was endangering the whole world. And without a ship, there would be no chance of getting any of them back. “I have medical experience and assuming you have a sick bay I could—“
“Already got a doctor, Doctor” Tony waved his hand dismissively. It wasn’t exactly the truth. Their resident doctor, Bruce Banner, had been missing for longer than a year.
“It’ll only be temporary,” he pleaded. “Till I find my things. Then, I swear, I’ll literally disappear out of thin air.”
Tony gave him a sidelong glance. In truth, he had already decided. He might not completely trust Strange just yet but, no doubt, he’d be a valuable asset to their crew. And when you’d been sailing as long as Tony had, days began to bleed into months, the sea always looked the same, and it became a struggle to cling onto reality. So it was always refreshing to have some new faces around. Especially when they were pretty to look at.
“Wait, Captain, think about about it—” Peter pulled him aside clumsily. “Mr Strange probably has some tricks up his sleeves and we’d probably be the only ship with a wizard on their crew, which is, frankly, the coolest thing ever. Pirate wizards! Plus, he might be able to help us take down Th—“
Tony shot him a look. Peter winced, leant in closer and lowered his voice.
“Plus, he might be able to help us take down Thanos!”
Tony sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked at Stephen, a sorcerer apparently, completely exposed and helpless. Their job was to rescue people, not keep them.
“Alright,” he said, donning his I’m-the-Captain-of-this-ship voice. “Nat, cut those ropes and bring in the others, would you?” Natasha nodded, already setting to work on the ropes around Stephen’s wrists. “ And Peter, bring some fresh clothes from the quarters.”
“Aye Aye, Captain, sir!”
“Don’t do that.”
Tony turned to Stephen and gave him a grin that was surprisingly genuine. “Tomorrow morning we’re arriving in Cornwall to pick up some goods. Then we’re off.”
“So I’m part of the crew now?”
“Sure. Congrats, Strange” Tony said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re in. Welcome to the crew.”
Stephen gingerly returned the smile.
God, he was going to regret this.