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Part 3 of tiny avengers
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Iron Man
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2018-09-03
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the one with the conversation between Death and her Merchant

Summary:

Tony only fights as hard as he does because he knows the consequences of failure.

Notes:

I know that this has been done plenty of times before, but I wanted to play with the idea. For this story, MCU events generally happened as in canon, except for the Winter Soldier murder thing.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The view from the penthouse of Stark Tower was as spectacular as ever, but Tony barely noticed it as he watched his last sunset from his soon-to-be former property. He vaguely wished he had a tumbler of whiskey, or anything to mark the occasion, but all of his personal belongings had already been packed and he knew better than to disrupt Pepper’s organization system in any way on pain of death and/or dismemberment.

Not much longer now, he thought resignedly, before everything changes. Not that anyone else has noticed; but then again, who wants to hear about the giant purple guy who’s coming to kill us all? Not SHIELD, that was for sure, despite the fact that thwarting alien invasions was essentially their job.

The entire situation would have been amusing, if it hadn't been quite so sad.

Or maybe Tony was just too old and jaded.

There was a part of him that wished that he, too, was ignorant of the greater threat on the horizon, that he was still young and naive enough to believe that ideals were enough to triumph over evil.

(Unfortunately, he hadn't been that young for quite some time, and naivete was one luxury he could never afford to have. Fury would have known better, but it didn’t matter since he wasn’t around to be of use.)

In many ways, the sale of his tower marked the beginning of the end: a tangible acknowledgment that the countdown to Thanos’ arrival had begun.

Selling the tower had hurt more than he’d expected it to, but it was a necessary move, if only to keep Tony focused on the true task at hand. He’d let himself be distracted by the mess with the Accords and the rest of the Avengers and he’d lost sight of the bigger picture. 

And now, he was running out of time.

He couldn't blame the others for their ignorance, not really. He'd seen more evils than most of them could ever expect to see in their lifetimes, even with the Mad Titan on the horizon. The Avengers as they had first come together had been a rough, largely uninformed group, which was neither shocking nor unexpected at the time.

Tony had assumed, though, that he would eventually be able to convince his teammates of the approaching danger and keep them safe, and therein lied his mistake; they had been repeatedly successful against overwhelming odds, blind to the sting of loss and unable to see beyond their short-term goals.

Thanos was going to be a hard, hard lesson for them to learn: people didn't defeat Thanos, they survived him.

Sunset faded into night, but Tony remained where he was, staring out at the city lights below him and thinking of all the people who were going about their lives in blissful ignorance, unaware of how close they were to destruction. So many people had called him careless and callous and selfish, yet if he was truly as heartless as they claimed he would simply find a nice tropical island and leave the rest of the world to its fate.

(It wasn't as if he didn't deserve the vacation.)

The Earth wasn’t totally defenseless, of course, but not even Iron Man could protect the world alone. He needed the others, even though they didn't believe him about Thanos (and wouldn't believe him until they met the Titan personally, he assumed), because he needed the Avengers if he wanted to save everyone.

(And he did want to save them, all of them, despite everything.)

Tony sighed.

There was the barest rush of air behind him, and then a shadow hovered just inside his peripheral vision. After a few moments, it coalesced into a figure who eventually moved to stand next to him. Neither of them made any attempt to talk. The two of them stared out the window for a long while before his visitor deigned to speak.

“I must admit,” the Lady said finally, without moving her gaze from the lights below, “I am unsure why this universe compels you to protect it so. Why risk so much for a world that has done little to deserve you?”

There was no censure in her voice, and Tony had known Death long enough to tell when she was genuinely curious. The two of them had seen Earths fall to Thanos before, but Tony had never been quite so invested as he was now. Even in universes where he had been close with the team, he had always made the necessary (if painful) sacrifices for the greater good.

“Thanos won’t stop at Earth, and no one deserves to be subjected to the Mad Titan’s wrath, if I can prevent it.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” she chided gently, and only lifetimes of experience kept him from startling at the cool hand that suddenly rested against his forearm. “It is long since you have truly been tested in battle, but you and I know that you have no love of war. Why do you fight now, when other universes have been left to ruin? What is it about these copies that keeps you here?”

The thing was that Tony couldn’t explain it, not really. He’d seen dozens of universes destroyed since Death had claimed him as her Merchant, had interacted with worlds almost identical to this one, yet this was the first place that had ever felt like...home. He had family here, dysfunctional as they were, and he wasn’t quite ready to give them up. “The faces are starting to blend together,” he admitted. “I look at this Steve, and I see the faces of the ones before him, who bled and died to save their own worlds, and sometimes me. I grieve knowing that there are worlds where Vision never came to be, and some where Thor was never cast out of Asgard. This one, despite everything, is almost perfect. I don't want it to be destroyed.”

“If the Titan kills you, you won't be able to remain in this world,” she pointed out. There were surprisingly few restrictions that came with working for Death, but returning to a world where he had “died” was one of them. Of course, that hadn't always been a rule, but Tony had had one too many miraculous mid and post-Thanos resurrections for some universes to ignore. Tony suspected that Death actually found it amusing, not that she’d ever say so aloud. She had as much of a reputation to protect as Tony did. “Will you be able to leave your friends behind when this is through?” she inquired.

Because there was an excellent chance that he would die, in defence of his friends. He’d done it before, many times, and he knew exactly how to defeat Thanos when the opportunity finally presented itself.

(The trick was moving all of the pieces at the right times and in the right order for minimum casualties and maximum destruction.)

“If I knew they were safe...I'm not afraid to sacrifice.”

“Indeed. And if I told you that this world is destined to fall?” Lady Death asked mildly.

Rather than get upset, Tony smirked. “Considering I was destined to die all those years ago, I think I’ll take my chances.”

Beneath her hood, Death grinned.

Notes:

Thanks for reading!

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