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Stephen let his gaze wander lazily over the small gathering of people, all of whom were in various states of disrepair. Already he’d seen nearly everyone, diagnosing nothing worse than a few dislocated limbs, easily snapped into place with a grunt and a curse. The room thrummed with contentment, despite being stained with the metallic scent of blood and the quiet grumbling of those whose bruises were just a bit too tender.
The most recent enemy had been of the spiritual variety, in more than two ways, which was why Stephen had joined them on this particular fight. It had been difficult navigating so many Avengers, far too used to doing everything by himself and moving with the same flexibility. Yet, he couldn’t deny that the aftermath was much more pleasant. Instead of limping down abandoned hallways and painstakingly stitching his skin back together, he was here, in the common room of the compound, watching as they allowed their adrenalin to fizz out.
Curled up on the couch across from him was Wanda, her own eyes darting from person to person with unexpected anxiety. She was strong, brave, and far too haunted by the ghosts of her past to relax completely. Every injury on her new family seemed like a personal affront to her person and she watched them all wearily as though they might drop dead at any moment. Stephen didn’t blame her, though he did wish he could ease her fears. One day perhaps…especially since he’d been startled to find himself under that protective gaze just as often as those around him.
Standing behind her was Romanov and Barton, little smiles curling their lips and an unsettling gleam in their eyes. They spoke quietly, only their laughs breaking the tranquility around them as Barton fingers the feathers decorating the arrow in his hands. Romanov herself, had her fingers wrapped tightly around the glass in hand, some kind of amber liquid filling it to the brim. They had come out of it with little more than a few scrapes and bruises. They might be spectacularly human, but they could hold their own as well as anyone. If Stephen helped with that this time around…well, they didn’t need to know.
A glance to the side revealed Bruce and Peter still passionately discussing the variables involved with the Hulk. The Spiderling had missed out on the fighting and had demanded to be regaled with a step by step description of everything that happened. Poor Bruce had been volunteered for the job, though it seemed now he had managed to distract Peter with his most recent favorite topic. Everything Hulk. Stephen hoped he’d take it as a compliment.
Somewhere behind Stephen’s own couch was the Captain and Wilson, their own speech far more subdue than those around them. They always seemed rather solemn in the aftermath of a battle. This time, however, Stephen knew without having to look that they were shooting looks at him, no doubt debating who should approach him. He found it endlessly amusing even if it frustrated Tony to no end. Stephen understood, he was still an outsider, refused to aid them unless the enemy was specific to his expertise. They wanted him as a concrete ally and for that to happen there needed to be common ground. Stephen wished they would just enjoy the victory.
Finally, bringing his attention back to his surroundings, Stephen looked down at Tony who sat beside him, his entire body leaning heavily on him. His lover was exhausted, watching and listening with half-lidded eyes, his expression not so different to Wanda’s. Tony rested his head on Stephen’s chest, hair tickling his chin and one hand gripping his knee harshly. He didn’t mean it to hurt, that much was rather obvious, but it was clear this particular battle had been difficult for him.
Stephen knew why, even if he wished he didn’t.
They had been successful, had worked wonderfully together even. Yet, Tony, observant and all-knowing Tony hadn’t missed the fact that Stephen had orchestrated a scenario in which he’d taken on their enemy by himself in the end, even if the other Avengers hadn’t quite realized it. He had knowledge and abilities the others didn’t, namely the Kamar-Taj approved magic and thousands of books describing the dangers of facing their foe. In the end, the only way to successfully trap him, was to do so with magic. Not willing to risk the distraction of the other Avengers, Stephen had allowed himself to be briefly captured.
Tony was pissed.
Stephen hadn’t worried.
He knew they would come.
It all worked out in the end.
That didn’t stop Tony from attaching himself to Stephen’s side the rest of the way here. The man hadn’t said much, though his gaze held a hundred words, his disappointment heavy in his frown, his fears evident in the stiffness of his back. Stephen did what little he could to sooth the tension, holding him close and whispering reassurances in his ear.
Later…when they’d finally gone home, Stephen was sure to get an earful.
But for right now…well it was difficult not to be swept up in the comfort and warmth that came with being surrounded by something akin to family, even if Stephen stood firmly on the peripheral of it all.
Tony shifted, head tilting up and Stephen leaned down so his words could be spoken directly into his ear, “I love you.”
Stephen smiled, tired and slow, “I love you too.”
“You’re an idiot,” he continued fondly. “A complete ass.”
Stephen hummed, “If you insist.”
“I do. You make it so hard to love you.”
The words, painful and sincere made Stephen smile. It was what lay underneath that made him do it, the subtle condemnation and worry and fear all showing just how much he cared. Stephen would never promise to not do it again, he knew himself and he knew Tony too well to make false promises. He loved the man enough not to lie.
“I am sorry you know.”
A heavy sigh, Tony’s eyes closing the rest of the way, “I know.”