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The Afterlife was peaceful.
Peter couldn’t help liking it here, despite there being no May. It was clear that Tony didn’t like it as much as Peter did, though.
The billionaire spent most of his time near the mirror, whether he was watching over Stephen through it or not. Peter couldn’t help noticing how sullen his mentor was.
At night, it wasn’t uncommon for Tony to rest his forehead against the glass, closing his eyes and screwing up his face in pain.
Peter could hear the soft sounds of Stephen crying, but he usually kept quiet, listening as Stephen grieved for his lost fiancé and the child who had been like a son, and as Tony grieved for Stephen’s lost smile, lost laugh, and unbroken heart.
Peter had many questions about the mirror- he wondered how much time Tony had originally split between him and Stephen with it.
There was a part of him that wondered if Tony had watched him fall and break- and the thought terrified him. Tony shouldn’t have had to witness that.
But he didn’t think he could ask Tony such questions. As much as he wanted to, it seemed selfish.
Granted, Peter was no stranger to selfish here in in the Afterlife.
He’d met up with Uncle Ben- that had been great. They’d started meeting regularly. They’d wander around the Afterlife, admiring the pure white, the vivid splashes of color. Ben showed him things Peter had never expected- abilities he didn’t know he had- now, in the Afterlife, he could conjure up whatever he wanted, or browse huge shops for whatever his heart desired without needing to worry about paying for them. He conjured up frozen yogurt heaped with toppings, and browsed huge LEGO stores for anything Star Wars related. But he never brought his finds to Ben’s home- he always brought them to Tony’s.
He couldn’t explain it, even to himself. Ben seemed to understand, almost like Ben expected nothing less, but…. He couldn’t just leave Tony alone with that fucking mirror.
The billionaire often whimpered to the glass, crying quietly for Stephen to forgive him, pleading with his love to heal. Even if Tony wasn’t brooding directly to the glass, fogging it ever so slightly with his warm breath, he sulked nearby at all times. Tony didn’t care to explore the Afterlife like Peter. The Afterlife meant nothing to him without Stephen by his side.
The worst part of the Afterlife, though, was just how badly the pain of leaving Stephen behind hurt Tony.
Some nights, as Tony cried at the mirror, clawing feebly at the glass and listening to Stephen’s broken sobs as he tried to sleep in a cold bed, as if his heart was being torn out of his chest, the pain would become too much, and Peter would hear Tony’s strangled cry of pain as his suicide wound opened up and poured blood and brain matter to the floor.
~(*)~
Years had passed. Peter would have been twenty-five now, if he had lived. A few others had joined the Afterlife by now. May was by Ben’s side again, killed in a bus accident. Clint was here too, killed in an accident on a family trip that had involved a cliff and getting his son to safety, sacrificing his life for the boy and knowing he couldn’t save himself without his bow or grappling hook arrows.
Tony was no better. He never left the mirror; in fact, a couple of years back, he’d crafted a nest of blankets, pillows, and comforters to sleep under the mirror, ready to leap to his feet if need be to watch over his lovely Stephen.
Peter sat on the counter, watching as Tony quietly stroked Stephen’s face.
The Sorcerer Supreme had an almost dead look in his pale green eyes. The light in them was dull, and the silver streaking his hair was overtaking the dark brown. He spoke in a broken, tired voice.
“Tony?”
The scientist looked over slowly, and Peter felt a pang of sympathy for his father figure at the sight of his full brown eyes.
“Yes?” Tony asked, his voice broken and croaky with disuse.
“I….did you see?”
Tony blinked slowly at him, his expression unchanged. “Did I see…?” He repeated slowly, as if unsure of what the words on his tongue meant.
“Did you see me die?”
Tony tensed, as if confronting a dangerous and hurtful enemy.
“....Yes.”
Peter nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
Tony blinked slowly at the boy, frozen forever as a teenager, dead because of Tony.
“I didn’t want you to be alone.”
With that, Tony returned his gaze to the sorcerer he loved.
Peter stared at his mentor’s back for a moment, then silently slid off the counter and left to find Ben and May.
~(*)~
Tony gently stroked Peter’s cheek through the mirror, whimpering in fear as the boy folded his note and stuffed it into his pocket. The billionaire watched the child wipe the tears from his eyes with his sleeve and walk out the door.
“Please don’t,” Tony begged the glass, even though Peter wouldn’t answer.
“They love you so much,” Tony sobbed, watching Peter climb Stark Tower.
“I don’t want you to come here so soon.” Tony whispered, watching Peter shiver as the cold night breeze blew around him.
“Please forgive me,” Tony cried as Peter jumped.
He’d watched silently as Peter’s body appeared on the bed, lying on top of the sheets and pillows. He didn’t wake immediately- it took a few hours. But then, slowly, the boy had opened his eyes.
And Tony was no longer alone.
But Stephen was.
~(*)~
Peter would have been thirty-six.
He watched in silence from his place on the counter as Tony cried, clawing at the glass as Stephen struggled to battle the creature.
His hair, still thick and fluffy, but entirely silver, gleamed in the pale moonlight, and Peter slowly slid off the counter. He walked quietly to the bed, and gently pulled back the sheets and comforter, fluffed the pillows.
He looked up and saw Tony flinch as the creature swung a spiky tail at Stephen, easily smashing a protective spell he’d created, and slammed the sorcerer to the ground. He saw Wong, a long, mirror like spear in his hands, falling towards the creature’s throat, saw Stephen create one for himself. Peter watched, fascinated, as Stephen thrust his own spear into the creature’s maw, piercing through the roof of its’ mouth just as a long fang thrust itself into Stephen’s throat.
The sorcerer choked up blood, a look of surprise fluttering across his face. The creature melted, almost- half seemed to flutter away, like cinders and ash on the wind, while the other half fell away like a small onyx waterfall, though the black sludge never hit the ground.
Stephen collapsed to the earth, a shaky hand moving to his injured throat. He gurgled softly, removed his hand, and stared at the blood on his palm.
He looked bewildered. Wong was running to him, saying something Peter couldn’t hear.
Then Stephen’s face broke into the smallest contented, relieved small.
His hand fell back to the grass, and Wong reached the Sorcerer Supreme just in time to watch his light green eyes go glassy.
Tony shakily turned, watching the bed. Slowly, Stephen’s form materialized upon it. Tony inched forward, almost nervously. Stephen looked younger now- his hair was no longer entirely silver, but it wasn’t solidly dark brown, either. No, it was as it had been when he had been happiest in his life- dark brown, silvering at the sides.
Tony gently moved the blankets and sheets, pulling them up and tenderly tucking his soulmate in.
Peter watched his mentor closely. Tony seemed wary to brush Stephen’s skin. His face was a battle- he could see that Tony was upset that his love had died, that he hated how it had happened, but he could also see that Tony was glad to finally have Stephen by his side again- and that he was guilty for it.
~(*)~
Tony sat at Stephen’s bedside, watching the Sorcerer Supreme silently. His breathing was slow and deep, and Peter watched as Tony closed his eyes, listening to the sound and trying to match his own breathing with his fiancé’s.
The purple hue was slowly drifting away from the room, and was being replaced by the bright, welcoming white.
Peter saw Stephen’s eyelids flutter, and Tony’s eyes snapped to Stephen’s face, watching him with a nervous glint in his brown irises.
With a soft groan, Stephen slowly sat up, then opened his eyes. Surprise flooded his face.
“....Tony?”
“Stephen,” Tony rasped, his voice hoarse with disuse. “I….”
Stephen moved forward, seizing Tony and hugging him close.
The billionaire was frozen in Stephen’s arms, and he shifted nervously. “S-Stephen?”
“I’ve missed you so much,” Stephen whispered. “I missed you so, so much.”
“I...what?” Tony asked weakly.
Stephen released him then, staring into the brown eyes. They were alight with fear and guilt.
“What’s wrong, love?” Stephen asked quietly, brushing his thumb gently along Tony’s cheek.
“You- I- I killed myself,” Tony said, uncertainly. “You...you found me. I...I left you.”
“I know.” Stephen said, his voice quiet and kind.
“Aren’t you furious?”
“No.” Stephen murmured, and Tony flinched.
“I….you stayed awake and cried almost every night,” Tony said, wondering if Stephen needed reminding.
“I did.” Stephen’s voice was gentle.
“I asked you to marry me and then killed myself instead of keeping that promise.”
“You did.” Stephen’s voice was kind.
“I left you alone.”
Stephen smiled, and Peter was surprised by it- a real, true smile. “You didn’t.”
Tony stared at Stephen, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Yes, I did.”
Stephen laughed quietly. “Why do you think I managed to keep going, Tony?”
Tony glanced to Peter, as if asking for help figuring out Stephen’s strange behavior, but Peter merely shrugged his confusion.
“I don’t-” Tony began.
“Why do you think I kept myself alive, rather than follow you?”
“Easy. You’re stronger than me.”
“Wrong.” An amused smile was playing on Stephen’s lips. “You weren’t gone, Tony. That was why. You were never gone.”
“But….I….”
“You died, but you never left.”
Stephen’s hand- still scarred for he’d been happiest in life after he’d received the wounds- reached to grip Tony’s fingers.
“The day of your funeral, you were by my side as I grieved for you. I knew you were there, looking after me. When Peter died and I learned that awful news-” Peter flinched, remembering the heartbroken cries he’d heard as Stephen sobbed for him after he’d jumped “-I knew you were trying to comfort me.”
Stephen smiled fondly, moving gently cup Tony’s face with his trembling hands. “My dear, sweet, lovely Anthony. I knew you were there. I knew you never truly left me.” He rested his forehead against Tony’s, a happy sigh on his lips. “Through every fight, through every heartbreak, through every normal day, I always felt your presence, knew that somehow you were there with me, and that was enough. That was enough to let death come for me rather than calling for death.”
Tony stared at Stephen wordlessly, but tears were forming in his eyes.
“Don’t cry, my love,” Stephen said soothingly. “Don’t cry.”
“I...I never left,” Tony whimpered. “I didn’t always watch, but I never left. I couldn’t. I didn’t want you to be alone if something happened. I couldn’t help but….I wanted to try.”
“And I love you for that.” Stephen assured him, hugging him close.
The sorcerer hugged the scientist close, rocking him, and finally some of the old Tony seemed to return. He hugged the sorcerer close, crying but smiling through the tears as he planted loving kisses on Stephen’s cheeks. “I missed you,” sobbed Tony. “I’m so glad you didn’t come sooner, but I missed you so much.”
“I know, love, I know,” Stephen laughed, kissing him back. “I missed you too.”
Peter smiled, watching the two. The sorcerer and the scientist- deeply in love, finally reunited. The fact that Tony no longer needed to guard the mirror, keeping as close to it as he could to guard Stephen, even if he couldn’t protect him, was cause enough for smiles.
After a few minutes, during which the two laughed between chaste kisses and long, fiercely tight hugs, they looked up, and Stephen beamed just as brightly at Peter, though there was a certain sadness clouding his green eyes.
“Peter.”
“Ste- Doctor Strange,” Peter said, smiling politely at him.
“I’m sorry.”
Peter blinked, bewildered. “You...you’re what?”
“I’m sorry.” Stephen watched him, grief in his green eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Peter. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out. You deserved so much better- I knew what Tony meant to you. I should have looked after you; I shouldn’t have expected you to know I was ready to comfort you when you needed me.”
“It’s okay.” Peter held up his hand before Stephen could protest. “It’s okay. You were upset too. I….Tony showed me stuff you did. How you asked the others to let me talk to them if I went to them. How you….how you said you….thought of me as a...a son.” Peter shifted nervously, but smiled nonetheless. “I know you tried. That’s what matters.”
Stephen looked down, but slowly he nodded. “Thank you.”
Tony sighed, resting his chin on the sorcerer’s shoulder, closing his eyes lazily as he nuzzled his fiancé.
Stephen smiled, gently running his long, once nimble fingers through Tony’s thick, jet-black hair.
With his free hand, he motioned for Peter to join them. The boy moved towards him, and smiled slightly as Stephen wrapped him in a fatherly hug.
“It was worth it,” Stephen mused quietly. “I finally have my family back.”
Peter smiled.
His father figures, after all those years, were finally reunited.
In death, their family had finally become whole.