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"I'm sorry."
Tony had never thought it possible that those two little words were going to shatter his world into a myriad of pieces. "You can go wherever it is you want to go and then come back. Or I can come with you. You know I will." Desperate bargaining, that's how far he'd fallen.
Stephen just shook his head and was already backing away from him as if he was afraid that Tony might try to make him stay by holding him down. As if he'd ever lay a hand on Stephen without his consent. The gesture alone spoke volumes about the state of their relationship. A relationship that was over, at least according to Stephen.
"Why?" he asked after an eternity. He didn't even hate himself for his tears or the way this voice cracked.
In return Stephen held up his hands - still beautiful despite being horrible scarred and shaking like a leaf in the wind. "You deserve better." It's not you, it's me.
No, he didn't. "I deserve you." Tony tried to reach out and gather Stephen's shaking body into his arms but Stephen shied away as if he'd been hit. "Stephen..."
"I'm sorry," Stephen repeated, once again, already backing away. The fact that he was also crying was not comfort at all. "But I'm a weakness for you now. You're Iron Man and you can't afford having a cripple in your life."
"Stephen!"
"Sorry, I..."
"Please, don't leave me!"
The door closing behind Stephen felt like death itself.
"Don't leave me," Tony whispered over and over again. "Not you, please, don't leave me. I need you. I love you."
The break up of Tony Stark and his long-time partner Doctor Stephen Strange hit the news and the stock market like Thor's hammer. Most of the media was convinced that Tony had broken up with Stephen because of his accident and the failed surgeries to restore his broken hands. Tony Stark had no need for anything not perfect in his life.
The fact that Tony declined any comment and wasn't seen for months outside of Avengers missions was another black mark on his already tarnished record.
The fact that Tony cried himself into exhausted sleep daily for weeks was something only his closest friends knew of. The fact that his heart was broken like never before in his life and that he asked himself over and over what he'd done wrong to drive Stephen away was carefully kept away from the public eye.
As was his steadily deteriorating health. Late complications from the arc-reactor removal surgery, coupled with insomnia and way too many pain pills took their toll on Tony. But not nearly as much as Stephen's loss did.
It all escalated the night that Tony decided to finally get it over with. He wasn't doing any good any more - his company was in Pepper's hand and better managed than ever, the Avengers could do without him - a fact that the good Captain told him over and over again - and it wasn't as if there was anybody waiting for him at home.
There was only a too big and too empty bed, silence, alcohol and drugs. JARVIS had been disabled; a mute witness who could only call for help when it was too late.
Tony looked at the last photo of Stephen and him together before the accident had torn them apart, blew it a kiss and swallowed pills and alcohol down.
"I miss you so much," he whispered into the emptiness. "I'm sorry." Maybe they had a chance in their next life.
JARVIS found a way around his virtual muzzle and alerted Pepper, Happy and Rhodes. They found him still alive, but unresponsive. He'd tried to find Stephen, just like always over all those months, but was, once again, unsuccessful.
Nobody knew that the assumed victim hated himself more with each report and each candid photo of a terrible looking Tony that appeared.
Stephen had found help and a new purpose in life in Kamar-Taj but his heart and soul stayed in the past. In New York, with Tony.
"I'm sorry," Stephen whispered as he stared at the latest, damning picture.
Tony looked awful; old, tired and at the end of his rope. The knowledge that he still went on missions as Iron Man was horrifying and Stephen wanted nothing more than to go back home, hold him down and force him to stay put.
"You have to let go of the past," he was told over and over again but he just couldn't. Not when the result of his cruelty stared him in the face every time he typed 'Tony Stark' into the search bar.
He'd been wrong. He'd thought that Tony would get over him and thrive without a crippled and useless partner at his side. Instead he had to watch Tony die little by little from halfway around the world.
Until the day the whispers during training forced him to open up his laptop and the big trending headline was:
Tony Stark kills himself in New York Penthouse
*
Stephen was with the Ancient One, in tears and begging her to let him go home, in minutes. He was ready to promise anything. She could wipe his mind of the Mystic Arts for all he cared, he just wanted to…
"What will you do there?" she asked. As always, she was full of compassion of ruthlessly logical. "It's too late."
Stephen closed his eyes, centered himself and found the only possible answer. "I have to see him one last time. His soul deserves to know that he was always loved and," he swallowed, nauseous and dizzy, "that I was an idiot." I want to touch him one last time.
She looked at him and contemplated for long minutes. "What would you do if it wasn't too late?"
Stephen forced his first instinct - hysterical laughter - down and took a moment to actually think before answering. "Help him. I was too caught up in my own pain to see how hurt he must have been by my accident," he held of his scarred and still shaking hands, "and I could only think of escaping my own pain and problems and never even considered what an impact my leaving might have on him." He wiped away his tears, took a deep breath and looked the Ancient One directly into the eyes. "I would ask for permission to bring him here, so that his mind and soul may heal and he finally can find some peace. And," he added, because he had to, "to keep watch over him and protect him. From afar." Tony could and should never forgive him his cruelty.
She looked at him and smiled. "Yes, you should have. You were supposed to come together, you know? But outside forces… intervened." A portal flared to life on Stephen's left side. "Go and bring him here. The world needs Iron Man and Tony Stark needs you." She became earnest. "I have seen the future and it is dark without him."
Stephen stayed still, stunned and not daring to let hope into his heart. He didn't think about her first statement, he would contemplate that later. Now there was a much more important question. "He's…"
"Your beloved is in the hospital you used to work at. We have a small window of opportunity to get him before the news get out. Use it well." With a careless gesture she all but shooed him towards the portal.
Stephen went, heart beating like it hadn't even when he'd been stranded on Mount Everest, hands shaking worse than ever, Tony's name on his lips.
*
He looks even worse in person, was Stephen's first thought when he got near enough to see something in the dim glow of monitors and the night lighting of the private ICU room. He's so thin. And so pale and weak looking. Things he'd never associated with Tony, not even when he was dying from Palladium poisoning or after the surgery. A quickly conjured spell kept the awareness of Happy, positioned right outside the door and as watchful as ever, on the hallway and gave Stephen time and room to think and read the doctor's notes.
Tony was sleeping and not in a coma as he'd first feared when he'd stepped up to the bed. Stephen closed his eyes and sent a short prayer of thanks to whomever it was that watched over stupid, world-weary superheroes and their even more stupid exes.
I'm not his ex, Stephen suddenly realized. He didn't like to flatter himself anymore but it was clear what had driven Tony to just desperate measures and he, himself, had never managed to let go of his feelings for Tony. And he's my everything.
"Stephen?"
Tony's breathless whisper pulled him from his contemplation and where a second ago there had only been confused helplessness there was now only a sense of purpose. Tony needed him. He could do that. "Hey, Tony," he whispered back. The smile came naturally and Tony smiled back.
"I'd never thought… it's nice that I get to hallucinate you before I go. I was afraid that it was going to be my father. Or Steve."
The tears where back. "Oh, Tony, it's me. You're not hallucinating." He took Tony's right hand - cut, bruised and bandaged as he only now noticed - and cradled it between his shaking ones. "I'm here. Really here."
"Why?"
Why, indeed. Such a short, innocent question and it tore Stephen's heart apart. There was only one answer. "Because you need me."
Tony's eyes closed again. "Needed you a long time ago. You didn't come. You left instead."
Fuck. "I'm a stupid, clueless idiot and I swear that I'll spend the rest of my days to make it up to you. Promise. Just, please, trust me one more time." He was openly weeping now and pressed his head against Tony's hip, hoping that he wasn't hurt there. "I regret every minute away from you."
"Then why did you leave?" There was a touch and Stephen realized with shock that Tony carded through his hair as he'd always done. "I would have done everything for you. To help you."
"I…" He didn't know he had to admit. Try as he might, he couldn't fathom his reasons for leaving Tony behind. Everything seemed hazy and unlike him and… "I don't know," he whispered. "God, Tony, I'm so sorry, I'm so stupid, I should never have, I don't know how I could…"
He wept, with Tony's fingers still stroking through his hair. Finally, after an eternity Tony broke the silence. "You're really here, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"The Stephen in my imagination could never fall apart like that."
"I'm sorry. For everything."
"Why are you here?"
Here it was, the two-billion-dollar question. He'd debated what to say but in the end there was only one thing to say. "To bring you home."
Silence, but the stroking didn't stop. And then, finally: "And where is that? The place you ran to on your headless flight from what was supposed to be home?" Tony sounded tired but that didn't diminish his faculties at all. Neither did the chemical and alcoholic cocktail in his veins, apparently. He had learned to stay functional under almost all circumstances the hard way, after all.
"Kamar-Taj," Stephen answered. "It's…"
"Home?"
"It could be. With you."
There was a sigh and another long silence. "Will you put me there and leave me alone while you go on to do your own thing?"
"If that's what you want. I just want you to be alive and get better. The people there can help you." The prospect alone was enough to make him want to kill himself but Tony came first. As he should have come all those months ago. What had he been thinking?!
"Will you?"
There weren't any tears left or Stephen would have cried them. "If you want me to."
"Okay."
"What?"
"Okay. Take me to your Shangri-La or whatever. I have nothing left here." Tony was still petting him and Stephen still couldn't look at him as the first stirrings of hope came to life in him.
"Don't you want to know more? Before you decide?"
"Stephen," suddenly there was a gentleness in Tony's voice Stephen had heard the last time when he'd still been in hospital, with his hands suspended and his eyes swollen shut. Before Tony had broken the news of his destroyed hands and before the dark fog of depression had settled over him and driven a wedge between them. "Look at me, baby, please."
Nobody had ever called him 'baby', except Tony. And that only under very special circumstances when he really wanted Stephen to listen to him. When he'd told Stephen about Iron Man. About Stane. About flying through a wormhole. Before the arc-reactor surgery. About his hands.
Stephen was helpless and raised his head. Tony smiled at him and wiped the tears from his face as well as he could. Afterwards, his hand stayed on Stephen's neck, directly over his pulse point. "You went to Kathmandu and learned magic. I did see how you arrived here, you know?"
Stephen, stunned beyond belief could only stare at the beloved face. Tony stared back, without fear or surprise. Just resignation.
"I've always known where you are. Do you really think I couldn't track your logins? I just blinded JARVIS to them but I followed you. Always." Tony's eyes closed. "I promised you to never let you go after your accident, remember? To keep you safe. I kept my word. I hoped that, with some time… but you didn't come back." He succumbed to his exhaustion and fell asleep, one hand still on Stephen's neck, the other cradled between Stephen's shaking ones.
Shaken and with his world upside down he needed a few minutes to decide what to do next. He couldn't just take Tony away from here, right out of the hospital on Happy's watch. The rest of the world might think Tony dead for the time being but that didn't change the fact that he wasn't and the people in the know would panic and alert everyone what had happened. He couldn't fake Tony's death; that would be far too cruel to their - Tony's, he had given them up - friends.
"What am I supposed to do now?" he whispered into the air, feeling despair wash over him once again.
In the end, he choose the path of a coward and waited for Tony to wake up again. It didn't take long, not even an hour. More than enough time to think. To remember. His own actions and what the Ancient One had told him only a short while ago. The conclusions where unsettling, horrifying, but still… maybe, just maybe he hadn't been an arrogant, selfish asshole completely on his own. Maybe there was hope, yet. If it was true and he could make Tony understand…
"You're still here."
Stephen tried to smile but failed. "Not a hallucination, remember?"
Tony smiled at that. "I choose to believe that for now." He carefully disentangled their hands and, with Stephen's help, sat up. Even that little movement exhausted him and Stephen was once again forced to notice how thin he'd become.
"What have you done to yourself?" He asked without thinking and wanted to hit himself for it the moment it was out. He didn't have the right to demand answers and he knew them anyway. "Sorry," he wanted to say once again but Tony put a slightly shaking hand on his lips.
"Shh. Stop apologizing." He didn't smile but there was a warmth in his eyes and voice Stephen had missed for a long time. "You're here now and you're better. Let me see."
He didn't have it in him to deny that request. Deathly afraid of the reaction he held out his hands for inspection, something he'd never done before. For the first time Tony would see the whole damage up close. The scars, the tremors, the unnatural way some of his fingers now bent.
Tony touched them with the reference normally reserved for precious things like the arc reactor or the most fragile of microchips. He slowly and carefully traced the scars, looking up every few seconds to check Stephen for signs of pain and discomfort.
"Can you feel my touch?"
They had never really talked about the far-fetching consequences of his impairment, he suddenly realized. Only about cures and how the next operation was surely going to help him… or Stephen had been talking and had stopped listening to Tony and his desperate attempts to get through to him.
And then, when nothing helped, Stephen had given up. On everything. On Tony. And the result of his selfish behavior was now looking at him, ill, depressed and fresh off a suicide attempt.
Stephen shook his head. "Not really. Most of the feeling is gone, along with my fine motors kills." He took a deep breath and forced himself to not hide his hands away again. Hiding and pretending that they were going to get better had brought them into this mess, after all. "This is it. The new me. It's not going to get better."
"Not even through magic?" There was a strange note in Tony's voice but Stephen chose to ignore it.
"Not even through magic," he confirmed. Be truthful, he reminded himself. No more secrets. "The price would be too high."
"But there is a possibility?"
Stephen closed his eyes and fought against the desperate want those works awoke in him. "None I would care to explore." Shit, he would have to explain the basics and dark magic new. The Ancient One would be delighted that their newest refugee came pre-loaded with all the sensitive info that even Stephen shouldn't have yet.
There is no other way.
He was sure of that. He knew that. And hadn't the Ancient One himself said, that they needed Tony back in Kamar-Taj? That she had foreseen it?
"There are some things I have to tell you before we go…"
Still carefully exploring Stephen's hands Tony settled down and for once in his life didn't interrupt.
Much.
*
The portal flared and two tired and weary men came through. The Ancient One took one look at them, sent Stephen to his room and Tony to the healers.
Stephen didn't see Tony for the next three months. He was kept busy by Karl and Wong - new training exercises, new spells, sometimes just drinking tea and talking. All his questions concerning Tony crashed against a wall - yes, Tony was as well as could be expected, he was detoxing from heavens-knew-what and he had started his own training under the watchful eyes of the Ancient One herself. Training. Therapy. Whatever. Stephen didn't know and didn't dare to ask.
It was as if Tony wasn't there. Some nights Stephen pulled out his laptop and typed in his name to reassure himself that no, Tony hadn't died that night but was alive and well and off to an extended vacation to 'recuperate from the stresses and horrors of the last few months' as SI's press release tactfully called it.
Pepper, Rhodey and Happy knew the truth, of course. None of them had been happy when Tony had announced his decision to go on 'a retreat' as he'd called it while Stephen had tried to fold himself into the darkest corner of the room and basically became a mouse. Their looks, promising death and eternal misery, still haunted him weeks later.
"Here, let me help. You're hurting yourself."
At first, he didn't notice to whom the voice belonged. "Nothing I don't deserve," he answered and continued to fiddle with the strips of cloth around his wrists and the palms of his hands meant to keep them as stable as possible during hand-to-hand combat training.
"Stephen. Stop." There was warmth in Tony's voice, yes, but also an air of command that Stephen hadn't heard in a long, long time. He stopped pulling at the wretched things immediately. "That's better." Tony was there, as if he'd materialized out of thin air, and took Stephen's right hand. With a few quick gestures he'd straightened the mess out. He silently started to do the same with the left but was too rough and Stephen gave a pained gasp and pulled his hand back to his chest in an protective gesture.
"The left one hurts more," he explained. "I'll better do it myself." He didn't do anything.
Tony looked him in the eyes for the first time. "I didn't know that."
"I never told you. I never told anybody." Yet another damn secret. Would they ever stop haunting him? Them?
"Please." Tony held out his hands, waiting. After a long moment of contemplation Stephen put his left hand into them. Tony carefully unwound the fabric and rebandaged the wrist with a few quick, practiced movements. "I'm here to say goodbye."
He managed to swallow the tears down, barely, and nodded. He'd expected that. "Magic not for you?"
Tony grimaced. "Not really. You know me, I'm a futurist. Tech is my field. But you were right. This, here, was what I needed. My head is clear now, I know what I have to do. Thanks to you and the Ancient One."
"I can't go with you." The words broke his heart but they were the truth.
A nod and a gentle caress of his left hand. He could feel some of it. "I know. You're not supposed to. Our paths in this world are different. We have to accept that. And you still have ways to go before you're better."
He gave up the fight against the tears and let them fall free. Tony's eyes were dry. He looked amazing, Stephen had to admit. Fit and healthy like he hadn't in years. Tony had managed in three months what Stephen hadn't been able to do in almost a year. He'd healed and moved on. "I don't want to." He'd broken it - them - and now he had to continue existing with the knowledge that he'd destroyed the most precious thing in his life.
"We don't always get what we want." Tony let go of his hand and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes lingered on Stephen's forehead for a long moment before he reached out and touched him there. Carefully, as if the touch might hurt one or both of them. "Bye, Stephen." He turned away but looked back over his shoulder. "You destroyed me and then you saved me. I'll always love and hate you for that."
He was gone before Stephen could even comprehend the words.
A few hours later Karl found him in the library, a sobbing mess with hurting, bloody hands, ready to just stop existing to stop the pain. Karl took one look at him, squatted down beside him and took him into his arms without a word.
He didn't know it but after his disappearance Pepper had done the same for a broken, sobbing Tony.
*
Kaecilius tempted him, Dormammu killed him over and over again, the Ancient One died and Karl betrayed him and left. He acquired a whole new set of nightmares to give the old ones new and exciting flavors and a new home back in New York. He got rescued and adopted by a sentient cape that proved to be the best friend and confidante he had in years.
It listened to him, it cuddled him on lonely nights and by his own request it held his hands immobile when they hurt so much that he was tempted to just cut them off to escape the eternal pain.
The day Tony had said goodbye to him had been the last time another human being had touched him with love and care outside of immediate medical assistance. Wong and him hadn't that kind of relationship and there wasn't anyone else anymore.
Only the Cloak of Levitation and lots of memories he could do without but would cherish until his dying breath.
Until the Hulk crashed into his staircase. Until Bruce Banner, one of the old friends he'd lost along with Tony, took one look at him, hugged him half to death and demanded to be brought to Tony.
Until the day he saw the love of his life again, got saved from torture by him, and everything around Tony crumbled to ash.
"Tony, there was no other way."
Famous last words, indeed. If he'd had the time he'd have added an I've never stopped loving you. But he didn't deserve to say the words and Tony didn't need to hear them.
*
Against all of his expectations he came back again. Feeling each and every one of his atoms rematerialize in their original universe and in their original state was excruciating and still not even a fraction of what he deserved for his deeds.
He lay on the cold and dusty floor of Titan, too hurt and too weak to even move. 'Original state' meant exactly that - including all the injuries and internal bleeding he'd suffered in his hopeless fight against Thanos.
Death was in his future once again and maybe, hopefully, this one would finally stick. It wasn't suicide, he'd tried to reassure himself. He didn't deserve the easy way out. He was just badly hurt with no medical assistance anywhere. He had no chance. Better to surrender to the inevitable and finally give up.
"Tony," he whispered and the Cloak drew itself even tighter around him to try to keep him warm.
He tried to think of Tony and their happy times together. He slipped into unconsciousness while fantasizing of going down on his knees and asking Tony to marry him. He had no right to do that but the last fantasy of a dying man couldn't hurt anyone.
By the time the rescue ship arrived he was barely alive and if the Cloak hadn't flown to them and guided Tony and Nebula to him they would have never found him.
Even so it took Tony's nanites, a new version of Extremis and a highly trained team of doctors to bring him back after he'd stopped breathing and his heart had stopped beating.
He died five times while an increasingly frantic Tony watched through the windows, praying and begging for another chance.
He didn't feel Tony's lips on his forehead, didn't hear his pleas for him to hold on, to come back. Didn't hear his apologies and promises to protect him better.
Death didn't want him. That was his first thought, followed by a despairing why? Did he still have to atone for his sins? Why couldn't it just end?
The beeping of various monitors told him where he was before he even opened his eyes. He didn't want to know what was wrong with him this time, what damage that couldn't be undone would make his life even more hellish. He chose deep mediation instead.
Just let me die, he begged but he didn't even know to what entity he should pray. There were no gods, there was no mercy, there was only life. And pain. And loneliness. While meditation had been a hard-won victory in the beginning it was now easier than falling asleep for him. There was only peace and silence there.
"Stephen?" Tony whispered once again but there still was no reaction. For a moment he'd hoped that Stephen might finally wake up but his breathing had slowed down again and he'd settled down after moving around for a moment or two.
He'd never opened his eyes. He might never do so again if the doctors could be believed. Tony didn't want to but with every day that passed by without a change in Stephen's condition it became more and more likely that they were right and Stephen's famed stubbornness was finally at its end.
"Come back, baby, please. We have so much to talk about."
Tony gently touched Stephen's forehead where the magical symbol, marking him was Dormammu's, had vanished after so many years of waiting. Now, without dark magic influencing his every thought and move Stephen had finally a chance of truly coming back to life but of course the stubborn idiot refused to wake up now.
"It's gone, Stephen." He once again traced the path of the hated mark that had disfigured Stephen's beautiful face for so long. "You can be yourself again." Mine again.
"This is his fight that he has to fight on his own. And alone. I'm sorry." The Ancient One had been truly sorry when Tony had come to her, distraught and full of questions after having seen Stephen at training and noticing the glaring mark on his forehead.
"Is that the reason why the changed so much after his accident? Why he… left me - us - behind?"
Her silence had been answer enough. She had to push and more or less beg him to leave Kamar-Taj and Stephen behind despite him being so vulnerable to dark forces beyond imagination.
And now, after years of waiting and hoping and praying Stephen had finally managed to push through and exorcise the evil influence for good. But while his damaged body was on the mend Tony was afraid that it was too late for Stephen's mind and soul who had been broken over and over again. Stephen had always been strong but to endure what he had to endure?
"It wasn't your fault," Tony told Stephen once again. "I've forgiven you a long time ago." Another slow, painful process but in the end, Tony had emerged so much better for it. "Please, fight one last time. For me. For us. Come back and I promise that I'll do the rest. Take care of you. Protect you from harm. You'll never be hurt again." They'll never get their claws into you again, my love.
He didn't have an natural talent for the mystic arts, like Stephen did, and he'd only been in Kamar-Taj for three months but he'd always been a fast learner. He picked up enough for a quick and dirty protection spell and the Ancient One herself had taught him how to recognize and fight against the dark influence that had claimed Stephen and tried to get to Tony, too.
Only Stephen's strength and innate goodness had protected him from falling further into darkness and had allowed him to finally rise above it. Just like the Ancient One had predicted. But she'd never told Tony through what hell they both had to go before that or that Stephen might lose his final, the most important, fight for his life.
He took Stephen's right hand into his own, studying them and trying to see if they were better than they had been on the day he'd tried to kill himself. They weren't. The scarring was still bad and so was the shaking - there was no help for the nerve-damage; the surgeries Stephen had gone through afterwards had ensured that the permanent damage was even worse than it otherwise might have been. Another example of dark magic manipulating him and forcing him into directions he otherwise would never have gone. But his hands where still beautiful, scars and dry, angry red skin and shaking included. Tony bent down to kiss his fingers.
"Still so beautiful."
Stephen's fingers twitched in his hold and he looked up slowly, afraid of what he would find.
Stephen's wonderful, amazing, unique eyes where open and he was looking at Tony. But he also looked completely stoned. "It's just the insane amount of painkillers and other stuff running through your veins," Tony assured him. "And probably Extremis. It's pandemonium in there but there was no other way."
Not even throwing his own words back at him got a reaction. Tony's hopes sank.
"Tony?" Stephen whispered after a couple of minutes.
"Yes, my love. I'm here. You're safe. I've got you."
Stephen's eyes closed again. "Nice dream. Don't deserve…" He fell asleep again.
"Not a dream, baby. Wake up. Please."
Nothing. Nothing beyond the trembling of the hand he was still holding.
After years of hoping and waiting Tony finally couldn't hold out any longer. He put his head down beside Stephen's hip and cried. Over all their missed chances, all the demons driving them apart and how cruel the universe had been to them. To Stephen.
*
Almost two weeks later, after lots of thinking, long talks with Wong and even meditation, his eyes where dry and his decision made. "Do it, babygirl," he told FRIDAY and she complied with a soft sound of acknowledgment, not ready to interrupt the moment with words.
The equipment monitoring and stabilizing Stephen went dark.
'Death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered, your time is short,' the Ancient One had told him years ago but Tony still couldn't bring himself to accept those words. Their time had been too short; damn it! No pretty words and no philosophy in the world could change that simple truth.
Tony once again took Stephen's right hand, always afraid to take the left one in fear of hurting him. He bent forwards to whisper directly into his hear. "Let go, Stephen. It's over. You've done your part and it's time to rest now. We'll find each other in the next life. We'll be boring and normal people and we'll meet when we're very young and we're going to spent our whole life together. No more superheroes, no more magic. Promise." He kissed Stephen's forehead. "Goodbye. I've always loved you. Never forget that."
Stephen's bed was big - much bigger than standard hospital issue - and Tony took advantage of all that space to crawl in beside him and take him into his arms, his head on Tony's shoulder. He settled down to wait for the inevitable end, ready to stay for as long as necessary. Stephen wouldn't be alone for a second; he would die in the arms of the man who loved him more than anything else.
There were many things Tony regretted, but one of the big ones was that he'd never had the chance to put the ring he'd carried around for years on Stephen's finger. Now it was laying on the bedside table. Glinting gold and silver, made out of the remains of the second Iron Man armor - the one that had brought him high up towards the moon - it was untarnished by time and tragedy.
Let go. It's over.
Finally, the permission he'd been missing without knowing that he did. And Stephen, with relief, did exactly that.
Waking up was a gradual process and one Stephen had actively fought against until those words set him free. In the end it was the knowledge that he wasn't alone but in someone's arms, coupled with FRIDAY's voice, that encouraged him to take the last step towards consciousness.
"Boss? He's waking up."
"What?!"
He was being shifted around and a hand landed on his face, gently turning it to the right. "Is she right? Are you really coming back to me? Stephen? Baby?"
Tony. There had only ever been one to call him that and with so much tenderness and love in it.
We'll find each other in the next life.
He didn't know where the words came from but he knew that he didn't want that. "Don't want to wait," he whispered, still more than half asleep.
"Stephen?"
"Don't want to wait for the next life. I want us together in this one."
There was a sob that became a laugh and then a quiet and tearful "typical that you heard that. I want that, too. So much. Open your eyes, please. I want to see them and make sure that you're really awake."
Saying no to Tony had always been almost impossible for him. So he did as he'd been told, or at least tried to.
"Shh. Take your time. FRI? Please lower the lights. Almost dark. Stephen? Don't be afraid, the light won't hurt you. You're safe."
He was in Tony's arms, of course he was safe. Still, opening his eyes had never been this hard. When he managed it he was greeted by Tony's stunning smile, his beautiful eyes full of tears.
"Welcome back." Tony touched his forehead with gentle fingers, followed by a kiss in the same spot, an usual gesture. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been thrown around on an alien planet by something big and purple."
Another laugh. "Sounds about right, yes. God, Stephen, you're awake."
Yes, that was a surprise. He hadn't foreseen that eventuality actually. Time to face the uncomfortable facts once again. "How bad is it this time?"
The tone of his voice must have given him away or Tony had expected the question because he didn't even try to feign ignorance.
"Nothing you'd notice outwardly," was the surprising answer. "Your broken bones and the internal damage had more than enough time to heal while you were… asleep. Your right hip and knee will probably be sore for quite a while but nothing some physical therapy won't fix."
"How?" He'd been far to hurt to survive, let alone without any lasting damage.
A deep breath and Tony hugged him even tighter. "Your body is now a playground for nanites and a new version of Extremis I've been developing over the last few years."
Oh. There was nothing to say to that but Tony seemed to expect some kind of response, judging by his tense posture and his silence.
Still, Stephen said nothing. Instead he raised both of his hands - still shaking, just like they had since the accident.
"There's nothing to be done for nerve damage that old," Tony said. "We tried, believe me, but…"
"I've fucked myself over with all the surgeries. Surgeries you tried to talk me out of if I remember correctly." He sighed. "Doesn't matter. I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be. And it wasn't your fault, you know that. Not completely." After the Ancient One's lessons, years of thinking, soul-searching and recognizing his own failures and weaknesses Tony could honestly say that this was the truth. "You were a stupid, arrogant asshole who hid his insecurities and so was I. But we weren't the only ones to blame."
Stephen snorted. "And who else's? Of course it's my fault. I subjected myself to one experimental treatment after another, not even trying to listen to you or Christine, and I have to pay the price for my stupidity for the rest of my life." He took a deep breath. "But thanks to you I seem to have a rest of my life."
Another long silence. Then: "You don't know. Oh God, she never told you. You still believe…"
"Don't know what?"
Tony once again put his hand on his cheek to force him to really look him into the eyes. As if there was anywhere else he wanted to look at ever again.
"Stephen, baby, the accident, our problems afterwards, you leaving me, me trying to kill myself," Stephen flinched at the list of things he'd fucked up but Tony held him steady, "none, I repeat none of that was your fault. You understand? We've both been marked in an attempt to get us out of the way and…"
Stephen just stared and tried to take it all in when Tony told him a version of the last few years he'd never thought possible.
Tony opened the door to Stephen's room in the Sanctum as carefully and quietly as possible. He was proven right when he saw Stephen sitting on his usual meditation spot directly under the big window with sunshine streaming through it to bathe him in light.
Stephen looked stunning. Peaceful and relaxed, wrapped up in his relic. The Cloak waved at Tony and Tony waved back by instinct, still taking in the breathtaking picture before him. Under Tony's and Wong's insistent pestering Stephen had put on some sorely needed weight and for the first time in years he wasn't pale and worn-out looking. Instead Stephen glowed and the aura of peace and contentment around him was almost tangible.
Tony slowly crept closer and settled down in front of Stephen. His eyes were drawn to Stephen's hands - still shaking, like they always would be - folded in his lap. Tony studied his hands for a long time, thinking.
"One might think that you've seen and touched my hands enough for a lifetime by now." Stephen's deep voice sounded much calmer, too, and Tony smiled without taking his eyes off Stephen's hands.
He reached out and took the left one between his own. He'd only recently and after Stephen's assurance that no, Tony's touch wouldn't hurt him, had started to dare to do that. "Never," Tony said, distracted. "I was just thinking…"
"About what? My hands then and now?" But there was not bitterness in the words and Tony decided to let it go. For now.
"No. Actually…" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before he forced himself to look up and catch Stephen's gaze. "I was thinking if," with a sleight of hand the Ancient had taught him long ago he pulled out the ring and held it up on his palm for inspection, "you'll be able to wear this or if I have to rework it into a bracelet or necklace."
Necklace, probably, since Stephen's wrists and forearms where almost always hidden behind supportive bonds.
Stephen reached out with his right hand and a shaking finger gently touched the metal, warm from being close to Tony's body. "Is this…?"
"Do you want to marry me? I realize that we've already kind of done the whole 'Til' death will us part' thing but since not even death and dark magic managed to keep us apart I thought…"
To his great surprise Stephen teared up. But he was smiling so it was the good tears and Tony's hope grew. He held out his left hand, fingers slightly spread apart. Up close it was obvious that the trembling was worse in that one. It broke Tony's heart to see Stephen's beautiful, steady hands reduced to this. With infinite care he slid the ring onto Stephen's ring finger. Miraculously, it still fit.
Stephen tried to close his fingers into a fist but the movement was soon aborted with a pained grimace. "I can wear it," he said. Then, realizing that he hadn't give an answer, he blushed and ducked his head. It was adorable. "Yes. I want to marry you."
Tony gently pried his fingers open again in an effort to encourage him to relax them. The metal contrasted beautifully with Stephen's skin. "I've wanted to give this to you for a long time."
Stephen put his right hand atop of Tony's. "I've wanted to ask you a long time ago, too."
He didn't elaborate why he hadn't. Despite Tony's assurances that the past was the past, that they both were so much better now and could be themselves again, Stephen was still hesitant in taking the initiative in their rekindled relationship. Tony's self-assured, arrogant and sometimes even callous lover from years ago had become a touch-starved, affectionate cuddler who loved to be held and sometimes even demonstrated some downright submissive tendencies. Traces of all that had been there years ago, granted, but now with the pretenses of the past gone Stephen had become the person Tony had always known he was deep down. Tony in turn, embraced his new part of caretaker and protector and reveled in being there for Stephen. Finally, his offers of help weren't rebuffed.
Stephen, Tony and their relationship were all so much better for it but it would have been nice if the journeys to hell and back hadn't been necessary.
Don't think about it, he admonished himself. He said yes, time for happiness now. He brushed a strand of hair out of Stephen's face and was captivated by his beautiful eyes for the millionth time in his life. Eyes which had drawn him to Stephen all those years ago on a party, along with Stephen's wonderful voice and body. "You're going to make a beautiful bride," he murmured, only half teasing and put his hand on the back of Stephen's neck. Stephen shivered and relaxed.
Somehow blushing even more, Stephen didn't protest against the prospect and let himself be pulled into a kiss while the Cloak of Levitation fluttered around them in excitement.