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Tony snapped his fingers. He knew it might come to that, and he did nothing to stop it. He did not even hesitate.
He had regrets of course, namely leaving Pepper behind, not being there to see Morgan grow up, making him an even worse father than his own had been. He wished he had been a better person too, not spending most of his life selling weapons, partying, drinking, fucking, and being a dick in general…
As he stood there in the grim, boring nothingness that was apparently the much vaunted afterlife, Tony could only hope he had made up for his mistakes, that it wasn't too little, too late.
"Sorry, sorry," called a voice from the impenetrable darkness.
Tony turned on himself, wondering if he was in a coma having a weird dream, rather than dead. He squashed the thought, not daring to hope. Seeing what using the stones did to a Titan, he knew his weak human body that had been much abused over the years, didn't stand a chance. He was deader than dead.
Finally, he spotted the owner of the voice but by that time he was almost right in front of him although by his messy hair, he must have been running to get to him. This place was confusing.
"Oh, it's you again," the guy said, looking a bit put out.
"We've met before?"
"Sure, a few times. But by the time I get to you, you generally… You know what? I'll just give you a couple of minutes, yeah?"
"Uhm… sure?" Tony answered, having absolutely no fucking idea what he was on about, but by the time thirty seconds had ticked by, he was bored of waiting. "Gotta say, I'm not impressed with management in the afterlife."
"Tell me about it," the other man said with a roll of his green eyes. "It's the twenty-first century and He's still collecting souls with a scythe."
"So… He? That's Death? So who are you supposed to be? A run of the mill reaper? I thought I'd get a bit more of a VIP treatment, you know? Not that I like to brag, but I did just save half of the universe."
"And gave us enough work for a few lifetimes. Thanks," the guy deadpanned.
Tony had to concede he had not taken the management of all these back and forth souls into consideration, but, to be fair, he had not believed in either souls in the afterlife.
"Just kidding, and it looks like you're here to stay this time. Congratulations on your death," he said, offering his hand to shake, which Tony promptly ignored. "I'm Harry Potter, Master of Death. It's nice to finally meet you."
Master of Death? So this was the big boss? This awkward looking guy with messy black hair and old-fashioned glasses that looked to have been taped together at some point. Tony was so unimpressed, he waited for him to drop his hand before answering.
"Master of Death? Funny. I used to be called the Merchant of Death. What terrible things did you do to earn your nickname?"
"Nothing much. Collected a few trinkets."
Tony did not trust that twinkle in his eyes. Maybe he should not underestimate this guy. After all, he knew looks could be deceiving.
"So, what now? Eternal damnation, torture and all that?" Tony asked, trying to sound blasé, but actually a bit worried. If he had known, he would have consulted a priest before taking on Thanos.
"Don't be silly. You're a hero. Literally no one has ever saved as many lives as you have, and I doubt anyone else ever will again, so He's giving you options."
"He is? Not you?"
Harry smiled.
"No. I was given options, just like you."
"And you chose to work in this hellhole for all eternity?" Tony remarked.
"Not exactly."
And there was that damn eye twinkle again. This guy just liked being cryptic to annoy others he was sure.
"Just let me give you your options. One, you can move on, go on to the next great adventure, which is reincarnation in short, or soul recycling."
"Boring," Tony concluded, and what if he was reincarnated as a cockroach, or a rock?
"Two, you can go into the waiting room until you're ready, reflect on your life, watch your loved ones move on, until their own time comes if that's what you want."
"Oh my God, you are trying to kill me with boredom."
Harry's lips twitched, but in reality Tony thought that would be a particularly cruel experience to go through, witnessing their grief without being able to give so much as a word of comfort, watching them go through life's ups and downs without being able to help, seeing them forget him, one piece at a time… he would be happy for them, but it would be bittersweet.
And he would definitely go mad, doing nothing but watching, as much as he loved them.
"Three, you can join our merry team. We're a bit short-handed since the whole snap thing," Harry said as he snapped his fingers.
Tony flinched despite himself, and Harry apologized.
"Sorry. That's what they're calling it. The Snap."
How… unoriginal. That had to be Captain Obvious' doing and Tony waved off the issue.
"What's in it for me?" he asked, because if he had learned one thing as a successful CEO, it's that everything was negotiable.
Harry grinned.
"We get Sundays off."
"To reflect on our lives?" Tony snarked.
"To walk the earth, feel the sunshine, eat ice-cream… spy on our loved ones. We can't let them see us or talk to them. We'll appear as strangers to them… and believe me I've tried everything, but…" he shrugged. "Reality works against us."
"That sounds like a challenge," Tony said, smiling for the first time since he died. "Sundays, eh? That doesn't sound so bad."
Harry glanced around the darkness, then leaned closer, his voice a mere whisper.
"And the best part… Death never knows what day it is."
His smile, if anything, grew wider. He could have it all: remain Tony Stark instead of having his soul recycled or slowly dying of boredom in the waiting room, return to Earth and see Pepper and Morgan with his own eyes even if all they saw was a stranger, at least until he found a way to let them see him for who he was.
The choice was easy to make, and when Harry held out his hand, Tony shook it this time. His skin wasn't cold as he'd expected, but as soon as he touched it, the darkness was replaced with a myriad of lights and colours flying about around them like lazy, beautiful fireflies. Some winked out of existence while others grew larger. It was fascinating.
"Souls," Harry said simply when Tony glanced at him for an explanation.
"Man, you really are understaffed. What kind of a backlog is this?" Tony asked, gesturing at all the lights that seemed to stretch into eternity.
Harry shrugged.
"Time is relative here. It might be Sunday for all I know."
Tony grinned. If he had to be stuck at a literal dead-end job for all eternity, he could have done a lot worse than Harry Potter as a colleague. Co-conspirator? Friend?
"Come on," Harry said, holding his hand out for him. "I'll show you the way."
Home . He was going home.