Chapter Text
It’s over.
Stephen should be happy. Or satisfied, at least, when he tells the assorted scientists and superheroes that Thanos is gone. There’s no sign of him as far as the Eye of Agamotto can see.
Captain America presses a hand to his eyes. Black Widow’s face is as smooth and cold as marble. The Winter Soldier clenches his jaw, and the Falcon puts his head in his hands. Tony Stark is pale and trembling. Deadpool storms out of the lab.
They’ve won.
It’s a miracle for a war to have only one casualty.
But, as Stephen watches the Avengers try to debrief and pull a damage control plan together while they’re still shaky with shock and grief, he notes that it doesn’t feel like a miracle. Not at all.
Stephen had known Spider-Man for all of fifteen minutes. During that time, Spider-Man had yelled at him, tripped him, stomped on the Cloak of Levitation, and tracked footprints all over the Sanctum Sanctorum’s ceiling. Stephen shouldn’t be affected by his loss, and there’s no reason for him to stay around and mourn.
Thanos is gone, and the Time Stone is safe. He has accomplished what he needed to accomplish.
Still, when Tony Stark flags him down in the hallway just as he’s about to leave, Stephen turns and waits.
Stark looks shell-shocked, but his voice is surprisingly steady. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t yet realized that he’s still covered in dust.
“Look,” he says, low and intense. “I don’t have any dragon scales or funky magical Harry Potter books lying around, but I’m assuming modern wizards take USD, too, so— Listen. I will offer you any amount of money, if you keep looking for the kid.”
Stephen sighs and says, “There is no sign that—“
“Anything,” Stark interrupts. “I’ll give you anything. Money, women, men— I still have pull at the Pentagon— I can get you—“
“He’s gone, Stark.”
“You can’t know that!” Stark says, pushing up into Stephen’s space. Up close, Stark looks unhinged. He smells like ashes. “You didn’t see— Thanos had these illusions, planted them straight in our brains with those fucking magical rocks of yours. How do you know that he didn’t just— magic the kid away or—“
“Was he your ward?” Stephen asks.
Stark stops mid-sentence. His pupils jitter. He works his jaw, then turns his head to the floor.
“He’s my kid,” Stark says roughly.
Stephen nods.
At Metro-General, Stephen had been a top surgeon. He’d been one of the top surgeons in the world. However, no surgeon has a perfect record.
Stephen had never been great at explaining what had happened to the family, but that doesn’t mean he never learned to do it.
He looks Stark in the eyes.
“It is said that the Infinity Stones are the last remains of an omnipotent being,” Stephen says evenly. “Regardless, they are entangled in a way that makes it possible for users of the stones to be— aware of each other, so to speak. Thanos was regularly exerting the powers of three Infinity Stones. Even while I wasn’t actively looking for him, his presence felt like a beacon. As such, if Thanos was still in this universe, I would be able to sense him, even without searching.”
Stephen pauses to make sure Stark understands where he’s going with this. Judging by the slowly dawning devastation on his face, he does.
“I can’t find any trace of Thanos’s presence,” Stephen says. “He is no longer here.”
Stark’s expression is frozen.
What Stephen hasn’t told him is that if Thanos is dead, then Spider-Man cannot be alive. Assuming that what Captain America and Black Widow described had been accurate, then when Thanos left, he took Spider-Man with him.
Stephen doesn’t have to say it.
Stark is a genius. He already knows.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Stephen says, stepping back and summoning a portal, “I still have business to attend to.“
“Wait—“ Stark staggers forward. “Strange, get back h—“
“I am sorry for your loss.”
Stephen closes the portal behind himself. He shuts his eyes and lets out a sigh.
It never gets easier.
Wong is waiting for him in the lobby of the Sanctum.
“What took you so long?” he asks.
“The bereaved,” Stephen grunts.
“Ah.”
Wong bows his head.
Stephen examines the damage to the Sanctum and resolutely refuses to look at the ceiling.
“Old men start wars, and young men die in them.” Wong says quietly. “Truthfully, it’s a miracle that only— Where are you going?”
“I have to meditate,” Stephen says, as he trudges up the stairs. The Cloak of Levitation floats after him.
“You’re fixing the windows in the morning!” Wong calls.
Stephen ignores him.
He slams the door to his room shut and looks out the window, at the glittering lights of the city. He wonders how many people know how close they came to death today. He wonders how many will know who saved them tomorrow.
He wonders if they’ll remember Spider-Man.
Stephen shakes his head.
He knows that Wong is right. This is a victory. Thanos is gone, and the threat to the universe has been resolved. The Sanctum Sanctorum is intact, if short a few windows, and nothing important has been damaged. He and Wong are uninjured. The Time Stone is safe.
This is a victory.
Stephen slumps onto the floor in front of his bed. It’s late at night, and the day has been long. He gives himself a moment to lean against the mattress and close his eyes.
Then, he sits up straight and calls on the power of the Time Stone.
He searches.