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“I love you 3000 daddy!!”
Morgan Stark giggled, as she jumped up into her father’s arms. Tony uttered a laugh of pure joy, and spun her around in the air before lightly setting her back down.
“I love you 3000 too, honey,” he said, pressing a kiss to her little forehead.
They stood outside the Avengers Compound.
Pepper Potts was leaning against a sleek silver Porsche, a vacant booster seat in the back row. She smiled at her husband and daughter.
“I have to go now, so I’ll see you later, okay?” Stark said lovingly to the small purple-clad figure below him. She nodded, and gave him one last hug around the legs, before tottering off towards the car and her mother.
Stephen Strange watched as Stark smiled and let out a slight sigh.
An array of feelings were warring within him. There was that wave of warmth he felt when he saw Stark happy and alive with his family. There was jealousy, yes, but not enough to matter. There was that hint of pride that came with the knowledge that he was the one to have given him this chance. That, because of him, Stark would live another day to care for his daughter, and mock his fellow avengers, and inspire the world by simply existing. But that little ember was swallowed up by irrational guilt. Guilt, for dragging the man away from his family and into the dangerous superhero life that Stark deserved a break from. Sure this particular outing wouldn’t put him in any immediate danger, but it was the idea of it, the fear, and that ever-present guilt. Of course, all that was ridiculous, because he wasn’t even the one doing the dragging.
Carol Danvers had set up a spur-of-the-moment training session, to be led by the original six avengers. She described it with the intention of giving the new recruits a demonstration, but Stephen was observant enough to know that she just wanted them all in one place.
As of recent months, Carol had been one of the only ones actively trying to form the New Avengers initiative into some semblance of a community, a family. The newer recruits were rather skeptical of this. Many of them had family issues, and social struggles in general, but they were more open to the idea than might be expected, and were active in the day-to-day goings-on at the compound.
The “Guardians of the Galaxy”, as they called themselves, were some of these new recruits. They were part of the newly established inter-planetary branch of the Avengers initiative. While they were out fighting galactic entities and saving other planets, they were supposed to keep an eye out for any potential threats to Earth. These threats were then added to the list that Stephen himself managed. As a result of this, Stephen had had quite a few interactions with the little group of misfits since Titan, and he had grown quite fond of them.
He had expected them to leave not long after the battle with Thanos, but they had lingered on earth for the past several months. At first Stephen had thought it to be because of Quill and his past on Earth, or perhaps something to do with the loss of Gamora. In fact, it turned out that Rocket and Drax had become rather attached to the green and blue planet. They often stopped by the Sanctum to ask Stephen for places to visit, or occasionally to show off something they had “found”.
Rocket was an absolute menace around magical artifacts, and it had become somewhat of a game of theirs for Stephen to try and portal him away before he grabbed something. Drax and Mantis were enjoyable to be around, especially together, as their differing personalities provided comedic banter, and a fascinating perspective on their new environment.
Quill however, was another story. He was volatile and unsociable. When he did interact with the other Avengers, he snapped at them or refused to make eye-contact. Stephen sometimes wondered if he somehow blamed the Avengers for Gamora’s death, but another part of him knew that wasn’t the case.
When he looked back on the aftermath of Donna’s death, he knew he had been the same. Bitter, distant, cold. He was also painfully aware of what it was like to blame yourself for the death of a loved one, to feel like you could have saved them. Of course, after learning of the multiverse, the way it worked, and becoming so closely tied to the time stone, he had finally managed to make peace with it, because he knew that nothing would have changed that outcome.
Stephen understood Quill’s pain, and so, he suspected, did many of the other Avengers. He knew that, if Quill were more of a companionate individual, and chose to share his pain with the others, that they would understand. So Stephen didn’t bother Quill, he welcomed him on the rare occasions that he visited with the other Guardians, but he did not push and he did not pry.
Quill rejected the “family dynamic” that was being encouraged in the Avengers, but he had an obvious reason for doing so. However, other new members who had suffered through all that and more, were shockingly open and involved in the dynamics of the group. Loki was one of them.
He still often insisted on doing things “his way”, but he was often seen wandering the compound beside Thor or Bruce. He was not hesitant to chat and banter with people who had once been strangers or enemies. It was doubtful that he considered them “family” or harbored any similar sentiments, but he was beginning to feel like a real part of the team. Thor had told Stephen one night over drinks that Loki had always longed for somewhere to belong, and that that was why Loki was so eager for involvement. A month or so ago, Bruce and Tony had conducted a group study to quantify any lingering effects of the infinity stones. This had eventually revealed that Loki was the first victim of the mind stone, and that his attack on New York was largely influenced by this. Loki was silent for the entire session.
This, along with other details, had proven to Stephen and the Avengers that he should be cleared of his charges. He had grown as an individual in his time away from earth, that much was clear. He was eager to work alongside others, although he did seem wary around Tony and those who had fought him in the battle against New York. And the feeling was, unsurprisingly, mutual.
In fact it was the older members who were still uneasy about falling into the trap that was ‘trust’. Maximoff, Barton, Wilson, and most notably Rogers, were all rare sights at the Compound. Yes, they did not hesitate to join the fight when needed, but they were often unwilling to participate in Carol and Tony’s “bonding activities”. Barton’s was understandable, Stephen thought, he had a family after all, but he was somewhat confused as to why the others did not join in. Had they not all been close friends once?
When he had approached Tony about it, the man had gone quiet, and simply muttered something about the “Accords”. Stephen had looked into it, and had learned of what the media called the “Avengers Civil War”. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t heard about it, as during that time he was obsessively searching for a way to fix his hands.
Stephen was glad he hadn’t been involved with magic and the Avengers back then. He was trying to avoid the publicity-heavy, PR reliant, life of a celebrity that he had once led, and getting involved with political debates between Super Heroes would have been an absolute nightmare. And that was saying something, because Stephen had some pretty horrific nightmares.
But sometimes he wondered if the outcome would have been different if he had been around. If the sides had been unbalanced, if he and Thor and Banner had been around to side with Stark, would the end result have been any different? Would things have been better? Worse? Would fewer people have died? If Rogers and Stark had been on speaking terms, would the war against Thanos have turned out differently?
These were the questions of a seer, of someone who knew all too well how much the smallest things could affect the big picture.
But they were also coming from someone who knew that in the end, the future is not nearly as controllable as it may seem.
Stephen knew that despite the endless branches and possibilities, the universe weaves the threads to form the future that it sees fit. He knew that ‘the universe’ is not a metaphor for some greater being, instead it is just that, the universe. Every living thing, breathing, and acting, and causing reactions. And through all that, the tapestry is woven, and the acts of one person can rarely change the image.
The exception, of course, was Tony Stark.
He was the pivotal piece of this twisted game of chess. And, ironically enough considering the billionaire’s reputation and attitude, the world really did seem to revolve around him.
Despite all the knowledge that Stephen was burdened with, he couldn’t help but think, but worry for the fate of a world that could never have been in the first place.
He wondered if, had he been there, Tony wouldn’t have been left to die in Siberia, a gash inflicted across his mechanical heart by the man he called a friend.
Maybe if he had been there, Tony wouldn’t be waking up in a cold sweat, muttering about Rogers and Barnes and his parents and Hydra, clinging to Stephen for comfort.
No- wait, that wasn’t right.
In this reality, that had never happened and never would. At least, that was what Stephen had to convince himself. If Tony was having nightmares, Stephen had no right to know about them, let alone pretend to himself that he, of all people, was a source of comfort for the man. They were colleagues, barely friends. He didn’t know Tony anymore than Tony knew him.
“But you do know him” Whispered a little voice in his head. And Stephen knew it to be true. He had lived through countless futures at his side. He had died for Tony, watched Tony die for him, fought beside him, ran from Thanos across the galaxy with him, defended and befriended Peter with him, and more that he wouldn’t dare put into coherent thoughts. Stephen knew Tony’s soul inside and out.
But he shouldn’t. He had seen more than he should have, seen more than was natural. He had done so for the fate of the universe, yes, and it had been worth it in the end. But it was over now, the world, and Tony, was safe, and so everything must be forgotten, left in the dust of the billions killed by Thanos, kept safe in its own timeline.
Tony- no, Stark- chuckled to himself.
“She won’t stop saying that, you know. It was a one-off until she overheard me and Nat talking about how cute it was, and now she thinks loving someone ‘3000’ is the greatest thing someone could ever do.”
Stark didn’t look at Stephen as he spoke, his eyes were still fixed on the silver vehicle as it pulled out of the parking space. There was a soft smile on his face, a smile he didn’t wear around colleagues often.
Stephen had a sudden, intriguing realization.
Out of the fourteen million futures he had viewed back on Titan, around 3000 of them contained Morgan Stark.
Sure, each time she was a little different. Sometimes she was Mason Stark, and sometimes she had Pepper’s eyes instead of Tony’s. Sometimes she would greet Stephen with: “Uncle Stephie!” or sometimes with “Dad!”. And sometimes, with nothing at all, in the timelines where he wasn’t a part of her life.
And yet, in every one of those 3000 futures, Morgan loved her father.
He wondered if the kid had some sort of innate magical ability, or if it was just a funny coincidence. Or perhaps, if the universe had simply willed it to be so.
Morgan loved Tony Stark in, not just once, but in 3000 futures.
He wondered if he should tell that to Tony, then thought better of it. He had been through more than enough timeline madness recently, and would not welcome Stephen bringing it up again unless absolutely necessary. Besides, if Stark was happy with his family in this reality, it didn’t matter what went on in other realities. Stephen needed to accept the same.
An unbidden thought crossed his mind, as he and Stark walked across dark cement towards the doors of the Compound.
I suppose I love him ‘14,000,605’, then.