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They could have gone out. They could have went to the lake house. They could have gone to all stretches of the globe, but for today, they were home, and Stephen couldn't imagine a better place to stay.
For a moment, just a moment, Stephen drank in the peace and serenity that had been won after such a long struggle. The war with Thanos was over and had been for years. Peter, while having not aged within the soul stone like Stephen, was becoming more independent and was off saving New York almost every night. And little Morgan wasn't so little anymore.
She had her father's eyes and wild spirit, both of which had been soothed for just this moment. She laid curled up on the couch, the TV still flickering soft light upon both herself and the motionless form next to her.
Tony's head was tilted back, mouth agape with a snore that would no doubt be denied the second Stephen would say a word. So he didn't.
Instead, he took the moment and walked behind the couch, letting his quivering fingers run through their daughter's hair, then Tony's. It was peppering more than Tony cared to admit, (a side effect of being a little over 55), as if he would ever admit it at all. He would take another bottle of dye to cover it back up, along with the remark that the only one allowed to gray was Stephen. He hoped that wouldn't be the case. Tony deserved a long, happy life with the family they created.
His fingertips ran down from his hair to his cheek, following long scars, forever marking him with the snap that had brought their future back. Just past the nape of his neck started the mechanical arm. Tony would constantly tinker with it, adding devices that didn't really need to be attached, but it made him happy with his never ending project. Always improving.
With a flick of a couple fingers and a puff of orange light, Stephen turned off the TV. The family had been watching a Disney movie marathon, all the way from the beginning. They have never once completed a marathon in one sitting and that was alright.
When his fingers ran back up and stroked through Tony's dark hair, Stephen managed to pull him back to the waking world.
His dark honey eyes fluttered open, then that smile graced his lips. One Stephen still couldn't believe was reserved for him.
"Hey, baby," Tony whispered, somehow still mindful of their daughter who was currently up far past her bedtime. But Stephen insisted that she was allowed to stay up. Just this once.
"Hello to you, too," Stephen murmured back, dipping his head and managed to meet Tony's lips in a lazy kiss. He held onto that moment, too, tucking it away safely. The feeling of Tony's lips never ceased to amaze him. It captivated him even now, even after so many long years together.
Tony glanced to the side once Stephen pulled back, and his smile grew. "Looks like she's finally out for the night."
"I think you are, too," Stephen said, tapping Tony on the cheek. "I'm surprised she slept through your snoring."
"I do not snore," Tony complained, just as Stephen predicted. But he did not let Stephen's remarks dampen him, not as he stood up and started the careful process of picking her up, even when she was much too big for it.
But then Stephen moved to his side, gently brushing his hands away. "I got her," he whispered, then nodded his head to the stairs. "You get ready for bed. I'll be up in a bit."
All Tony did was arch an eyebrow, and Stephen knew he was trying his best to not worry for the sake of his still-failing hands, but it was a burden Stephen would quietly accept. What Tony refused to be left out of, though, was giving Morgan a quick kiss on the forehead.
"G'night, sweetheart, I love you," Tony breathed, then stole one more kiss. He managed to sneak one from Stephen as well, laughing quietly at his blush. Stephen wished he could say it a surprise. But that's alright.
It took time, having to carefully adjust his hands multiple times so that she rested mostly against his torso, but there just so happened to be an article of clothing willing to help.
The Cloak practically swaddled Morgan, just as he had done ever since she had been born. The Cloak protected her from the world, while simultaneously flying her off in random directions at her whim. Missing the first five years of Morgan's life, having been taken away from her when she was merely months old, still left a deep burden on his heart. Yet there was some part of Morgan that still felt safety within the Cloak, even after so many years.
Once the Cloak had draped her against his chest, Stephen stood up straight, not so secretly relieved that the Cloak was taking most of her weight. He hadn't been able to properly hold her since she had grown so much since the snap, but that was something he didn't care to be reminded of. Not tonight.
Not as Stephen hummed under his breath, letting one hand curl around her back and pull her closer. His heart nearly seized up as her hands curled into his shirt, refusing to let go. It took a moment to steady himself, taking long deep breaths. Stay in this moment. Feel her warmth. Her love.
He finally walked the rest of the hall, the Cloak opening the door to her room. It was disastrously pink, but she also was no little princess to be coddled and doted upon. Even little warriors needed their lazy days, too.
The Cloak did the honors of laying her into bed, and lingered around her. But with time, it slid away and draped over Stephen's shoulder. One more moment, he told himself.
Carefully, he let the back of his hand brush against her cheek, just enough of a nudge to awaken her. Large, sleepy eyes looked up at him, then she yawned. "Where'd we leave off?" she mumbled, her eyes already fluttering closed.
"We just started Bambi," Stephen murmured, trying to ignore that ache. "You can pick up from where you and Dad left off tomorrow."
"Mkay…" Morgan sighed, curling into her blankets, but Stephen just couldn't let her sleep. Not yet.
"Morgan, sweetie," Stephen breathed, slowly kneeling down beside her bed. "I love you. No matter what, okay?"
"Love you, too," she mumbled, and his heart stumbled in his chest. Another moment.
"How much?" Stephen asked with a smile.
Morgan snorted, then opened up one eye. "3001."
"Good girl," Stephen's smile widened, and he carefully draped an arm around her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Good night, darling," he whispered to her, like it was a secret they would share forever.
The Cloak shifted, tucking around Morgan and giving her the softest of squeezes. "Cloakie says good night, too," Stephen chuckled and tried to ignore the sting in his eyes. His daughter just smiled and wrapped her arms around the fabric, giving it a much tighter squeeze.
"Night, Mom. Night, Cloakie."
One more moment shared, one more moment to take with him.
It took longer than Stephen thought to finally leave her room, but he knew that there was just too much to do. He did allow himself one last look over his sleeping daughter, curled up in bliss after their quiet day as a family.
Stephen wished momentarily that he could see Peter, but the friendly neighborhood Spider Man was hard at work. He would save two lives tonight from a car accident in an hour. It was why he took the phone out of his pocket and sent him a message, even as his joints ached at the precise typing.
'Be safe out there. Love you always. You make me proud every single day <3'
He stood at the bottom of the stairs and stared at the screen, waiting. Two minutes later, a message popped on the screen
ItsyBitsySpider: lol will do love u too give sis a hug
"Consider it done," Stephen murmured under his breath, setting his phone down onto the top of the couch. Peter won't answer for the rest of the night. He hoped that his son will not regret not coming, but it was a vain hope. At least he gave him one more moment, too.
That's all this day is about. Little moments together. Lazily stretched out on the couch, ordering takeout to enjoy without worry, staying in pajamas until noon… No ringing phones, no needing to save the world, no meetings or schedules to attend to. Just one day, and Stephen would treasure it.
"Gonna stand there all night?"
Stephen was already smiling before he looked up the stairs, where Tony was standing at the top. The arc reactor was glowing in the darkness, something they both joked as a nightlight for Morgan. Ever since Tony had retired from Iron Man, he started getting a little… softer.
For the sake of their own lives, no one would tell him that.
"Why, do you have something in mind?" Stephen teased, already taking the first steps up the stairs.
"I might have a couple things," Tony grinned, holding out one hand that Stephen took immediately.
Stephen's eyes darted down to their joined hands, their old wedding bands resting on their fingers right beside their new rings from last year. They had renewed their vows, and Tony had taken pieces of both the iron gauntlet and the suit itself to form new rings. Stephen had a green stone and a red for Tony.
Tony's hands clasped around his, if just to help Stephen not see the scars. Even after so many years, the scars still haunted him. But tonight, maybe he can let them go. Just for tonight, for their moment.
When Tony led him into their bedroom, Stephen thought about telling him, but the warmth in those eyes shushed the words before they could form on his tongue. No, let go. Stephen had to let himself go.
And he did, to Tony's hands as they roamed across his body, to Tony's lips that brushed against his own and to whatever part he could reach. Their words were passed through breathless kisses, of love, of happiness, of eternity. They made love like the world had stopped for them, time no longer moving and instead giving them this moment. The world was kind enough to give them this last day together, at least.
So when the room turned quiet, when the words stopped tumbling from their lips and they fell still, Stephen knew that it was time.
He waited until Tony was deep in sleep, eyes moving between his peaceful face and the red digits of the clock, though separating their tangled bodies felt more like tearing limbs out of sockets. Every ounce of Stephen's will begged him to stay, that he didn't need to do this, but he did. Even as he could feel the pull of marionette strings to take him back to his peaceful and happy life, he cut them away one thread at a time.
The same he had been doing all day. Tying up the loose ends to make the break clean and mendable.
Stephen brushed his lips against Tony's temple, and whispered his love to his sleeping husband. He glanced to the nightstand and read the clock once more. 2:03am. Everything was already in motion, and it would be quite unbecoming of him to be late to his own fight.
One more time, he dressed into the dark blue tunic and took the sling ring off the dresser top. His eyes stayed with Tony up until the bedroom door clicked shut behind him, then he felt the familiar weight settle on his shoulders.
"You do not need to come with," Stephen said to his old friend, reaching up and running his thin fingers across the collar. "You can stay."
The Cloak of Levitation only curled around his body and gave a squeeze, never once separating. For a decade, the Cloak had been faithful and never left his side. It had saved him thousands of times in the past, and could continue its life without a temporary master, yet it did not leave.
Stephen was not alone, would not fight alone. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he no longer had to hide them. It was time, and the knowledge that had been laid upon him eight years ago would be realized. Wrapping his shivering fingers into the thick cloak, Stephen squeezed back, even as the familiar ache shot down his wrist and arm.
He took in a deep breath, then finally started walking down the stairs. With a small hand gesture, a small pocket opened up at the bottom of the stairs and he reached inside. He found it immediately, and they felt like they had grown a thousand pounds heavier since he had placed them inside.
The papers were set neatly on top of the coffee table still littered with empty popcorn bags and half drank sodas. Tomorrow, Morgan will rush out of bed to join her parents for their movie marathon, fully expecting to see their smiling faces and greetings. She will not find that.
She will find some papers folded and her name written painstakingly on the cover. Right beside them was the same for Peter. And last, Tony's. He will find his first. He will decide what to do with the rest.
Standing back up straight, Stephen let himself look around one more time, to the family and home they had built together. This was to protect everyone. Protect his family. He took one last look to the clock on the wall, reading 2:12am.
Stephen's moment was over.
Orange light lit the room for just long enough for Stephen to create a portal, and the papers fluttered momentarily on the table, only to rest once Stephen stepped through the portal. The room returned to darkness and to the peace that would only hold for less than two hours.
Their last moments as a complete family.
Bleary eyes blinked at the clock almost staring Tony in the face, and he wondered idly why he still kept the damn thing. It was probably the oldest bit of technology in this house to have an old alarm clock. He could just make out the numbers at 4:03am, and that realization came with the telltale sensation of needing to take a piss.
His body was getting older, after all, and it pissed him off.
Tony glanced over his shoulder to make sure that he had not disturbed Stephen, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Strange, pun not intended. Stephen was always still asleep before him, at least when it was this early. If Stephen woke up before he did, it was mainly because Tony had not yet gone to sleep.
Maybe something came up. Morgan might have needed something. Well, if that was the case, then why was the Cloak gone? It was always hanging in the corner of the room during the night, and Tony had grudgingly got use to the thing hanging around even during sex. It didn't have eyes, per say. So it technically wasn't voyeurism?
Either way, Tony wasn't going to get back to sleep until he found out exactly what was going on. He shuffled out of bed and stretched, choosing to ignore the crackling joints, then walked out of the bedroom.
The house was still dark. As he worked his way down to the bottom floor, his first instinct was to check Morgan's room, but she was still tucked in her bed and asleep. He checked the bathroom next. Still nothing. Maybe Stephen left a note, some wizardry thing needing to be done that couldn't wait.
Still rubbing at his eyes, Tony tapped the arc reactor on his chest and the blue light brightened. A handy night light permanently shoved into his chest. Just as he thought, there was something left on the coffee table for him. But it wasn't just a small note.
They were papers. They laid in three stacks, and he could just make out Stephen's handwriting for each of their names. Morgan, Peter and himself.
Though what immediately sent that jolt through his body was what laid on top of the papers marked for himself.
The rings. Wedding rings. Both the first ring they had exchanged so long ago and the one they renewed their vows with.
Not a sound could work past the lump in his throat, not as he stumbled forward and grabbed at the papers. Something was wrong, his brain so helpfully realized. Stephen wouldn't just leave. Had he done something wrong? Had Stephen? With shaking hands, he opened the papers and found them filled with neatly typed words.
Words that were forever scorned into his eyes.
You woke up at 4:03am because you had to go to the bathroom and you wondered why the Cloak and I were gone. You found this note at 4:06am. At 4:10am, Wong will call you. At 4:12am, you will see it on the news.
I told you that I saw every timeline when we fought Thanos, but I didn't tell you how this one ended. I've watched it so many times and I'm sorry I never told you, but I've known this was coming for eight years.
And it's okay because I got to spend one last perfect day with you. It's all I could ask for.
I've been writing this note for months, now. I keep deleting and starting over, like whatever I write will change the outcome. I don't need the time stone anymore to know that it won't. I've accepted it when I chose this timeline and I accept it now.
I don't know what will happen after this moment, after you read this letter, if you'll try to find me or call the Avengers to search. It'll be too late.
What isn't too late is for me to tell you that I love you, and that I've loved and cherished every second and lifetime I've spent with you and our family. I love you, Anthony Edward Stark-Strange. I love our daughter, Morgan Donna Stark-Strange. I love our son, Peter Parker Stark-Strange. And I love our life together.
Just know that I never stopped fighting. I never gave up because I know you never have, either. Not even after Titan, when we were forced apart by the snap.
No, no, this was all wrong! Some sick joke! "What the fuck did you do, Steph?!" Tony hissed between clenched teeth and tried to ignore how the words were blurring with his tears. His hands tightened on the pages, before he reached to his pocket and grabbed his Starkphone.
He had to stop this. Had to warn Wong. He would know where Stephen was! But as his trembling fingers found Wong's name and pressed to call, the phone just rang. And rang.
His eyes darted up to the top of the phone, to the time. 4:08. He had to have time! But as the phone continued to ring, his eyes betrayed his will and he stared back down on the page. The phone continued to ring as he read before the call ended on its own.
You've stopped reading and tried to call Wong. He didn't answer. We are still fighting an invasion in New York City. We will try to contain the threat in the mirror dimension, but they will overpower us. There is only one way to win. Wong cannot perform the spell, but I can. I will trap them within the mirror dimension, where they will die. A few will escape but Wong will kill them. Using the last of my strength, I will destroy the dimension with myself and the creatures inside. This will create a crater larger than a football field, as deep as a lake, and buildings will fall, but no civilians will die. I had evacuated the civilians at 2:18am.
It's 4:09am, and I have died knowing that I was loved by my family. I regret nothing, and you shouldn't either. I chose my path and it stops here, but yours does not. Keep going. For both of us.
I love you, Anthony.
Stephen Vincent Stark-Strange
The phone screen lit up, Wong's name stretching across, right beneath the time of 4:10am.