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Stephen stared down at the wooden tabletop, his nails picked absently at the fine-grained wood, catching here and there. He ignored the light sting of pain that came from his nails scratching, allowed his eyes to be drawn in by the swirling designs and array of colouring. This table, Stephen knew, was thousands of years old, like most things found in Kamar-Taj.
While he continued these ministrations, heart aching, he listened to the rise and fall of voices around him. He was one of nearly twenty-four Sorcerers, new and old, sat around this table, in the cold stone room, with only one small window to call its own. Next to him was Wong, who had been listening in silence, neither of them having spoken up yet, the others needed to come to right conclusion without their prodding.
They were getting there, if the growing tone of helplessness was any indicator. Stephen figured that any minute now the conversation would dissolve as the realization hit them, one by one. For his own part, he busied himself making plans, listing what would need to be accomplished, how to tell Tony, and Peter, and May, and the Avengers in general. It would not be easily accepted, as was evident by the lonely clock seated in the center of table, indicating they were going on four hours.
A gentle hand on his shoulder pulled Stephen from his reverie, he glanced up to find the gathered Sorcerers looking in his direction, Wong tilting his head meaningfully. He muffled a sigh at the expressions of desperation, fear, hopefulness, it was to be expected, but it still grated Stephen, the fact that they were looking to him to provide solace. He would of course, just not in the way they hoped.
“Four point five billion years.” Stephen murmured, his gaze going back to the wood.
He could feel the circle leaning forward in their seats, the strain to hear every word that passed his lips, it was nice in a way, to be so trusted. It was also reassuring that if anyone were to understand, it was these men and women, young and old, experienced and fresh that could embrace what was to come.
“Our planet has existed and breathed, created and destroyed within its tiny little marble all this time.” Stephen raised his eyes to meet the growing resignation in their faces. “Because she is a living and breathing organism and like all things living, she must eventually die.”
He saw nodding, he saw anger, he even saw relief in some faces. This wasn’t surprising, Stephen and Wong had cycled through all these emotions and more the moment they figured out the futility of what was to come.
“Two hundred thousand years,” Stephen continued. “We, humans, have existed in some form or another. Like our mother planet we have created, destroyed, protected. We have thrived and died, hoped and helped, despaired and celebrated. We have been programed with a mantra of never enough time.” He fingered the Eye hanging around his neck. “I think, however, two hundred thousand, is more then enough. We have been lucky and greedy, its time, I think, to accept what was always coming.”
Wong nodded, eyes gleaming with a strange mixture of sadness and acceptance.
“So, we failed then,”
Everyone’s heads turned toward the other side of the table. Seated there was Master Dunju, the eighth oldest Master at Kamar-Taj, and Stephen had to bite back a sigh of disappointment. He, more then anyone should know how untrue that was.
Stephen allowed his eyes to bounce along the other attendees, “who here feels as though we have failed?”
Hesitantly, hands rose, not everyone, but almost. Before Stephen could admonish their selfishness, their clouded judgment, Wong stood. His famous stern stoicism in place as he levelled a glare on the offending Sorcerers. “Tell me, does this coming disaster have anything to do with magic or reality?”
Heads shook silently.
“Have we, as Sorcerers failed to protect this planet in the past hundred thousand years?”
More shaking.
“The end of the Earth is not the failure of humankind, not this time. It is not a failure of her heroes or her Sorcerers, it is but the cycle we have all been taught to accept and treat reverently.”
Silence, but Stephen knew the listeners were not unaffected, his own heart swelling some. Master Dunju had bowed his head, though the stiff posture proved that he did not agree, no matter it couldn’t be helped.
“Regardless of how you feel right now, there is no more discussion to be had. There is nothing we can do to stop it, there is no enemy to battle against, and there is no miracle incoming. We must instead focus on what we can do.”
Wong sat, clearly feeling as though he had said enough, Stephen sort of wished he would take control of the meeting anyway, he was far better at it then him.
“So, what do we do then?” it was coming from a young trainee, and Stephen couldn’t help but smile at her brave exterior even as her hands shook.
Stephen took a shuddering breath, “we make sure we are remembered. Wong his facilitating the moving of our books and ancient scripts to a safe realm. I will be going to the Avengers and SHIELD momentarily to facilitate the spread of news and to get in contact with the few ships in orbit that may be willing to help. Humanity will not end today, but it will no longer be defined by its home.”
----
By the time the details were sorted, Stephen was exhausted.
The Earth was about to destroy itself, its ancient being having finally woken and grown tired of its slumber. They had less then four hours now until it would explode into a parody of the Big Bang, but from it would not come creation, no it was be a complete eradication of their home.
They had figured it out too late, though it wouldn’t have mattered. All that might have been accomplished was the evacuation of some people and the breakdown and deaths of others. Now, as Stephen stood on Tony’s balcony, waiting for him to get out of the shower and discover him there, Stephen new how futile it would be.
He had talked to SHIELD briefly, discovered that none of their allies would be there in time to secure evacuation vessels, their own were still horribly behind. It was amazing how limited they had remained even with the advances like those of Tony’s suit. Part of him was tempted to ask Tony to take Peter and his Aunt and leave orbit with their suit, but even if they left right now they would never get out of the explosion zone, and even less likely was being picked up by anyone else.
Dimensions had been a brief but ultimately dismissed idea. The only reason Sorcerers were able to travel the dimensions was because of their abilities to utilize magic and spells to survive, even then they died at an alarming rate. To bring a host of humanity with them would be fruitless. Dead within days and in far worse ways then what was to come, though part of him suspected there was additional hesitancy over who would be allowed to go.
The sound of the glass sliding door yanked Stephen from his head, making him tense. He didn’t let go of the railing, his eyes trained hard on the setting sun in front of him, the array of colours and the warm glow falling over the planet. He would miss this, so fucking much. He didn’t move or avert his eyes even as Tony’s arm slid around him, pressed him into his side, his hand tightening on his arm.
“What’s up? How long have you been brooding out here?” Tony tried to joke.
Stephen wanted to cry, but he didn’t dare let tears steal his vision. The sound of Tony’s voice sent shivers down his spine, his mind absently declaring that it wanted his warm voice to be the last thing he heard.
“Not long.” Stephen answered.
He caught on quickly, Tony’s arms sliding down to wrap around his waist, his body tensing at Stephen’s tone, “what’s wrong? What happened?”
Stephen bit his lip, still didn’t look at him, “I’ll tell you, we’ll talk I promise. Just…just watch the sunset with me first.”
He could feel Tony’s incredulity, but when he glanced down briefly, he found him staring out at it, mouth twisted in a frown, yet his eyes were soft with the sight, his skin glowing beautifully in the orange glow. Stephen had to tear his gaze away to look back at the sun, unsure which sight was more beautiful.
Eventually the sun stopped setting, and Stephen took it as his cue to stop procrastinating. By now the word was out, the meeting Fury planned with the Avengers complete and Stephen needed to tell Tony. He had wanted to do it himself, had wanted to explain and somehow convince him that he shouldn’t spend his last hours fighting, he should spend them living.
It was difficult. Tony was silent, seated on his couch with a strained expression while Stephen explained, standing and clenching the folds of his Cloak. When he was finally done, Tony looked at him with predictably defiant eyes, began shooting off suggestions and solutions at the speed with which his mind could some up with them. Stephen remained calm, shot down each one with carefully articulated words and resignation. By the time they had run through them all, Tony was slumped, breathing harshly.
Stephen didn’t dare make a move toward him, sensing he had more fight in him. He wasn’t wrong, he lifted his head, his gaze on the Eye as he spoke, “all we need is more time. Use the Stone and we can evacuate everyone, we can build ships, give reinforcements more time to here, maybe get the fucking planet to go back to sleep.”
It broke Stephen’s heart, shattered it like the planet would be in a couple of hours, “I will not,” he said tightly, holding back the emotions in his voice. “Have my last act upon this planet be the misuse of the magic I devoted my life too, especially in an attempt doomed to failure or further pain.”
Tony’s face crumpled, he stood and turned, back to Stephen. He didn’t begrudge him for it, he clearly needed a moment to gather himself, to accept. Still, it came as a surprise when Tony swirled back around not a minute later and yanked him in by the shoulders, into a bruising kiss.
He went willingly, irrationally thankful to feel this one last time, as a clock continued to tick in the back of his head. Tony’s grip was harsh and unyielding, his lips moving at a desperate rhythm. Between kisses he growled quietly against him, “unfair, what was the fucking point of all of this?” Stephen didn’t mind, instead expertly redirecting his anger into his something softer, more loving.
Stephen’s own trembling hands tightened in Tony’s hair, just the way he liked and used the leverage to control his lover, to slow the onslaught until he was following Stephen’s own, far gentler lips. It didn’t take long for Tony to drag him back toward the bedroom, or for his anger to turn to desperation and despair. Stephen knew better then to expect everyone to have the same perspective as he did, unlike him, they didn’t have the luxury of time to come to terms with it.
Tony made love to him in a strange mix of sweet hurry, as though he wanted to both worship him and feel everything at once, to deal with other things. Stephen wasn’t offended, surprised that this had even been his first instinct. No, he was grateful to feel the heat of Tony’s body against him, listen to his quiet gasps, get lost in the rhythmic rocking of their bodies, hear his name murmured over and over again.
-----
An hour later, with less then that to go, Stephen found himself in his Sanctuary surrounded by a shockingly large group of people. He had underestimated the response the Avengers would have, he had assumed, perhaps unjustly they would be out there in the world, on their computers fighting for a future that didn’t exist.
Instead, milling around and speaking in quiet, worried tones were the Avengers, pale and fidgeting. Stephen himself sat on his couch, Tony pressed tightly to his side, watching and waiting. Next to them was Pepper, staring out uneasily while gripping Tony’s other hand tightly. At their feet were Peter and his Aunt, in a rare show of his young age, Peter had his head in her lap while she ran her hands through his hair, whispering a song quietly. Stephen’s Cloak was draped across him in a parody of a blanket.
Natasha sat in one corner with Clint and his family, they were huddled in a small tribe, wife and husband pressed close, kids in some way draped against them, while Nat smiled weakly at Bruce whose expression was quite serene. Steve and Bucky for their part were at the window, glass of whiskey in hand, talking in companionable tones, the former tense and the latter reassuring.
It was…nice. Stephen had no other way to describe it, and when not a moment later a portal opened, and Wong stepped through, this gathering felt complete. Through the portal came the distinct sound of chanting voices, many of the students at Kamar-Taj finding solace in meditation and strangely enough it made Stephen’s eyes sting some. Wong sat on the other end of the couch, met Stephen’s eye and gave a curt nod, everything was alright. A book materialized in Wong’s hand and in silence he began to read.
Tony stretched up against him, kissing along his neck and drawing his attention. Stephen looked down at him to find serious brown eyes staring intently at him, “I love you Stephen Strange.”
His heart stuttered, but he leaned down and whispered against his lips, “and I you Tony Stark.”
There was a bright flash from the window, the distinct sound of shattering glass but no one cried out. Stephen’s last thought before the bright heat of a planet unmaking itself was only Earth’s heroes would meet her death with silent acceptance.