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Stephen meets Tony in one of the more private sitting rooms. He brings a teapot and two cups, setting it down on a small side table between two arm chairs. Tony is slumped in his seat, staring into the distance. That seems like a bad sign. “How did it go?” Stephen asks, pouring a cup.
Tony sighs and takes the cup of tea Stephen hands him. “I didn’t tell her.”
Stephen pauses, then pours a cup for himself. “Didn’t you decide you couldn’t keep a secret this big from someone you’re marrying?”
“Yeah.” Tony takes a long sip from his tea, but Stephen thinks he isn’t stalling for time. Steadying himself, maybe. Sitting, Stephen waits. “When I saw Pepper, the Soul Stone asked who she was.”
“It didn’t know?” Stephen’s relationship with Time doesn’t make him an expert on the infinity stones, but he wouldn’t have thought Soul would need a relationship of any kind spelled out to it.
Tony barks a laugh. “Apparently, it assumed she was someone else, because my soul and Pepper’s are, and I quote, ‘Not a good match.’”
Stephen winces. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Tony rubs a hand over his face. “In a lot of ways, Soul is… another alien. If I met a random alien telepath and they told me Pepper and I wouldn’t work out, there’s no way I’d break up with her on their word.” He pauses and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t speak; presumably Soul weighed in. Tony catches Stephen’s eye. “So why am I considering it now?”
“Because Soul is more than a random telepath,” he says.
Tony hums briefly and sips at his tea. Eventually, his gaze goes to the Eye of Agamotto. “If Time told you a relationship wasn’t going to work out, would you end it?”
“Time isn’t chatty like Soul apparently is.”
Tony’s eyes narrow. “That isn’t an answer.” Shit. “Spill it, Strange.”
Stephen sets down his tea and looks at Tony. “Those 14 million futures I saw? Sometimes there were years between that moment and the final battles; I saw a lot of potential relationships for myself. Some went well. Some poorly. I can’t forget them, so I know that they’ll influence me, but none of them are this future. It’s unique. I have to approach it that way.”
“But statistically—”
“Statistically, you should have died in Afghanistan,” Stephen interrupts. “Statistically, half the universe should have died to Thanos. We are living in the statistical exception, Tony.”
Tony groans, leaning his head back against the armchair. “Pepper feels like the only chance I’ll ever have for a real relationship,” he admits. “I don’t want to lose that.”
“I don’t think this is your only chance. But if you love Pepper, if you think you’ll be happy together, then that doesn’t matter,” Stephen says. Time flickers a hundred futures with Tony past Stephen’s mind’s eye. Stubbornly, he pushes them aside. Potential is only potential, he tells the stone silently. This has to be Tony’s decision.
“Yeah,” Tony says, and sips his tea.