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By the Master’s Hand. By the Hosts Themselves. Seek out and Reveal: The Truth!
---
This wasn’t how Tony preferred to start the day. He sat at his desk and faced the headline article blaring from his tablet. He figured maybe if he stared at it long enough it would disappear.
"BREAKING: LEAKED VIDEO SHOWS AVENGERS ALLY DOCTOR STRANGE SECRET LOVER- WHO IS HE?"
Tony stared, and the headline stared defiantly back. The article brought a deep dread of a day being ruined before it began. Not because of the familiar kiss his two colleagues shared. Not even because the two had hidden a relationship from their allies for who knows how long. But because he recognized the walls behind their kiss. He knew the elevator around the corner and the door to the right. This was Stark Tower.
Stark Tower had been infiltrated one too many times. So, for security purposes, Tony had cameras installed in every hall and room in the building. In his defense- he had taken extra care to warn all of the Avengers of this.
Too bad Stephen Strange never registered as an official Avenger.
Tony put his head in his hands. Was it worse that he suggested Stephen come in the first place?
He went to ask him in person last week. Doctor Strange didn’t have an email or a mobile phone to text with. Your options for contacting him were: A. Visit in person or B. Send a raven. A short drive to Greenwich Village later, Tony stood at the front door. Maybe the effort would make a good impression. After all, he was asking for a favor.
He pulled into parking on the street in front of the massive sanctum. People wandered down the sidewalk, turning to glance as he locked his car and knocked on the front entrance. He remembered Strange answering the door, with his frame, relatively slender for his age, blocking the way inside. Tony had never really gotten why people thought they looked alike. Sure, the facial hair was similar, but Stephen looked so much older, with the grays at his temples matching his eyes. When Tony told him he’d like to talk, Strange stepped hesitantly aside. As he entered, Tony felt like an invading force. The rug seemed to prick him as he walked, and if he wasn’t sure it was impossible, he’d say the dark doors and gothic walls bent to avoid him.
Colorful half-stuffed pillows, some velvet, some tasseled, folded over themselves and nestled in the crooks of the living room settee. The percolator rumbled in the center of Strange’s long coffee table, flanked by little cups, servings of cream, a jar of sugar, napkins, and plates for butter cookies. All of this displayed under a copy of the New York Times-- in paper of all things. Candles and incense burned from the few empty spaces in the many precariously leaning bookshelves. Stephen Strange sat near him and willed coffee to fill his cup. He dropped in three cubes of sugar and sat back, his spoon stirring at the speed his index finger commanded.
"You lectured when you were a practicing Doctor, right?" Tony asked.
"I am a practicing Doctor," Stephen replied. “But yes. I did.” A little blue tin nearby opened its own lid and delivered the Sorcerer Supreme a butter cookie.
"Well, it'd be just like that. But at Stark Tower. And with S.H.I.E.L.D and S.W.O.R.D's cadets."
Stephen frowned. "S.H.I.E.L.D and S.W.O.R.D have no business dipping their toes into mystical affairs- let alone their untrained students. I’ve dealt with magical threats before S.W.O.R.D was even conceived." Stephen said.
"And I'll make Fury swear that he keeps his nose out of your side of the business," Tony said. Stephen rolled his eyes. "Listen. These agents are the future. They need to be prepared for stuff that's outside of the protocol. Paranormal, magic stuff. Weird stuff."
"‘Weird’ happens to be Stephen's specialty." Wong’s voice carried as he came down the stairs into the living room. He glanced at him. "It seems like a good opportunity to get out of the Sanctum."
"I suppose.” Stephen said, “If an emergency arises and I'm dead or discorporated and therefore cannot assist," he said.
“So, you’ll do it?” Tony asked. Stephen paused. Then nodded.
"Great! I'll send you the date. Uh, via carrier pigeon, I guess. You really don’t have email, Steve?" Tony said.
“Not anymore. When you have the date just write it on a piece of paper and draw this symbol on the back,” Stephen grabbed an old pen and napkin and sketched something on it that looked like an upside-down chicken, “Afterwards, burn it. I’ll receive it immediately.”
“Just call us when you have it,” Wong said with a shake of the head. “We have a landline.”
So it was settled. They snacked on cookies and spoke for at least another 20 minutes before beginning to argue- a stunning new record. Tony left slightly annoyed and a little nauseous from the smell of lavender and sage. But it was worth it. He had gotten one of the most elusive super-powered individuals in the world to agree to give a lecture for SHIELD cadets. Fury would owe him big.
At the time, he was surprised by how little convincing Strange required. Now looking back, that must've been Wong. Their relationship seemed only a secret because no one thought to ask of its nature. After all, who would pay any mind to the Sorcerer Supreme's roommate? His pull on Strange was a subtle, almost undetectable one.
Or it was. Tony pried an eye open again to look at the video.
Stark Tower. He recognized the hallway. It was tucked away from the rest of the floor, with a supply closet hidden at its end. Often empty, if two people kept their voices down, they could remain out of the way for hours. In the video, a portal flickered to life. Wong and Strange walked through it. The audio quality sounded terrible, grainy. Luckily, the website that had gotten the footage went through the trouble of adding subtitles. Wonderful.
“I don’t know,” Stephen said, “I know I've got to touch first on the tell-tale signs of mystical meddling in our modern technology-- it's a must, but then how do I best transition into the lofty idea of chaos magic? And, Is Shuma-Gorath even worth discussing? We only have a few hours. Perhaps it's best to skip right to the slides on Nightmare.” Stephen ran a hand through his hair.
“I had no clue you had such terrible stage fright,” Wong said.
“Not stage fright, I just strive for perfection.”
“Stephen, calm down.” Stephen looked back at him and shook his head. "Look at me.” He did. They took each other in. Stephen glanced at the calm, effortless smile which seemed to often grace Wong’s lips. And Wong saw Stephen’s own lips, a dissatisfied strike against his face. He noticed the way his fingers shifted and twitched. He took them in his own hands and steadied them. “You’re going to do fine. No matter what happens in the next four and half hours.” Wong paused. “And afterwards… You'll come home and we'll enjoy the dinner I've made." Wong smiled, "...And dessert."
"Well, now I'm going to be distracted the whole time," Stephen said in a tone so low the cameras barely pick up the audio.
"I know. My chocolate mousse is really good." Wong said, and the two laughed. Tony realized all at once that he’d never heard Stephen laugh-- not a smug laugh or an exasperated one-- a real laugh. A laugh which raised the crow’s feet near his eyes.
“You didn’t prepare anything else for me, did you?” Stephen said.
Wong’s laugh returned, but this time only a breath. “What else did you want..?”
Stephen’s hands calmed to rest on Wong’s hips. Wong released his hands and grabbed Strange by the tie. If only they had fallen back into the portal! Then his camera systems would've missed the kiss they shared. When they parted, Strange said something softly that made Wong turn away with a smile. Wong stroked the side of his face and chin. And then, of course, to kill any doubt at all, they kissed again, slower still, like a butterfly coming out of its shell. Wong wrapped his arms around his neck, Stephen held to his waist.
When they parted, Stephen’s lips moved. Too quiet again to be picked up, but it was still clear. Those three words need no sound to be understood.
“I love you.”
Wong burned; his hand went to Stephen's lips to cover them. "Stephen.." Wong scolded. But softly. He smiled, fixed his tie, and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.” He said and slipped into the portal. Stephen watched it blink out of existence, took a moment to slick his hair back, and entered the lecture hall. An ad started to play. Tony's fingers pressed hard into his face.
It wasn't a disaster, yet. The article was just starting to trend, he could round up his legal team to put together a SLAPP suit or two and intimidate the publisher. It wouldn't be the first time he had. Strange still owned a landline for God's sake it's not like he was a tech genius. It's possible, with some luck, that he’d just miss the article. Tony bit his thumb, who the Hell hacked his cameras? And, more importantly, how?
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., give me a security briefing on who accessed the cams on August 28th, okay?"
"Right boss. Accessing." F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped back. Tony ran a hand through his hair, his coffee had gone cold. "By the way, it looks as though you have a guest. They've entered fourth-level security."
"Guest? What guest? I didn't invite anyone."
"Checking archives. I found one reference, but no registered name."
"No registered name?” Tony sat up, “What's the reference?"
"An article, 'LEAKED VIDEO SHOWS AVENGERS ALLY DOCTOR STRANGE SECRET LOVER-' "
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Tony jumped from his desk.
"He's reached the front door,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped “Shall I let him in?"
"No! No. Don't. Just give me one second." Tony turned off his projector and minimized the site. Out from the door came a string of strong knocks. He scooped up a few cans from the ground and some balled-up socks, tossing them into a corner.
The door began to spark and a hole formed through the middle. Wong stepped through it. Tony had always thought Wong had an excellent poker face. In hindsight, this was probably because he never paid much attention to the relatively bland man. Now, it was clear that he didn’t have a great poker face. Wong looked furious. He stepped through a portal carved in the middle of the door, his tunic creaseless and perfect- his gaze, exact and unyielding- furious.
" Mr.Stark." He said, "I hope you can excuse the intrusion, seeing as you intruded on us first."
“Wong, hey, buddy! How are you?” Tony said, leaning against his desk.
“Registering name: Wong.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped.
Wong raised a hand. “Allow me to skip the formalities. Buddy.” He walked to his desk and flattened a printed version of the article flat against it. “What is this?”
“I... Uh. Listen, I’m sorry. It looks like my system suffered a security breach. Someone went through my cameras. I have F.R.I.D.A.Y. on it right now and-”
Wong’s hand slammed against the table. He seethed. “Any relations between students of Kamar-Taj are strictly forbidden. Your little ‘security breach’ is going to relieve us both of our roles.” Tony stopped.
“That.” Tony sputtered, “Sounds like a really shitty rule.”
“Fix this. Now.”
---
Tony went to work. First, he had his lawyers go to the publishers. The article went black and disappeared off the face of the site. Then he made an offer to buy the company and shut their whole damn website down for the week. Next, he hired an intern or two whose only job was scrubbing out the mess. He took down every illegal site carrying copies of the article, killed trending tags, and sent cease-and-desists out like candy. All the while, he had F.R.I.D.A.Y. scanning the camera feed. He had to find who had hacked into his cameras and plug the security loophole before it was taken advantage of again. That was the hardest bit. Whoever hacked in completely broke his code. It was as if the language it was written in had been put through google translate thirty times. The whole operation took about three days, but eventually, he was satisfied. No clue who had hacked in still, but the story was dead.
Three days. Fast, but maybe not fast enough. Tony hopped out of his desk and stepped outside for the first time since the whole affair began. Coffee first, then he would zip down to Greenwich Village and check in with Wong.
The weather was breezy and cool, the clouds whipped around the sky in a tongued frenzy. The word was rain, it was spoken softly in the sky and confirmed in the wind. Tony zipped up his jacket and pushed up his shades. It was already too dark, but he couldn’t take them off and risk looking stupid. He marched up the Sanctum’s steps and rang the doorbell.
Silence. Tony stood freezing for a little while, the breeze racing through his windbreaker. Then the door opened wide.
“May I help you?” A man asked. He was tall and stern-looking, with a thick, handsome streak of white running through the middle of his dreadlocks. He wore a sweater and slacks, a cup of tea steamed between his fingers.
“Uh, hey! Is the Doc home?”
“He stands before you.” The man said with a smile.
“Erm, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony murmured. “Name?”
“Doctor Jericho Drumm. Brother Voodoo is also appropriate.” F.R.I.D.A.Y chirped in his ear, “Three references are available.”
“I’m not the Doctor you’re looking for, am I, Stark?” Doctor Drumm asked, his voice a low, calm thunder.
“What happened to Strange?” Tony asked. Doctor Drumm nodded, and cast a long glance in the busy thoroughfare before welcoming him inside. Tony entered, and felt the familiar cringe of the enchanted rug against his feet. The Sanctum wasn’t the same Sanctum he had visited a week ago. It felt new. Rejuvenated with some sort of incomprehensible energy or feeling. The books on the bookshelves had received a dusting, the smell of sage incense and ash fought with the wonderfully refreshing air of an open window. Doctor Drumm shut it with a glance and closed the curtains.
“Stephen Strange left Kamar Taj about three days ago. Kamar Taj, of course, prefers to claim that they removed him. Regardless, he no longer serves as the Sorcerer Supreme.” He said. The Eye of Agamotto winked in its new clasp. Tony put a hand in his hair and swore. He was too late. It was all for nothing.
“Okay. Do you at least know where he is now?”
“Maintaining a connection with an outcast of Kamar-Taj is forbidden.” Drumm spoke, “The rule is in place to prevent people like Baron Mordo from re-entering our ranks. There is no returning, once they have made their true selves known.”
“You’re saying Strange and Baron Mordo- the uh, super evil Baron Mordo- are on the same tier in the eyes of your stupid magic school?” Tony snapped. A wave of guilt rushed straight to his head, and he felt dizzy.
Voodoo nodded. “Perhaps if you implemented such stringent rules, you would know whom among you meddled with your cameras in the first place.”
Meddled. Tony’s head shot up. “I know who did it.” He said, “I need to find Wong.”
Jericho cleared his throat and straightened from the window sill. “Well. Certainly don’t check 107 Bleecker Street three blocks down.”
Tony looked up. “Didn’t you just say maintaining a connection with an outcast is forbidden?”
“Yes. But as you said. It's a stupid rule."
---
The location Dr.Drumm gave was only a fifteen-minute walk away from the end of Central Park. Tony jogged past a little bodega, tulips in boxes outside of shops selling dance classes and books, all the way to the address. Wong stood at the entrance in a long-sleeved shirt. A stack of papers were held loosely in his hand.
“Wong!” Tony broke his jog to catch his breath. As Wong watched him, a rush of shame returned which each breath he took. “I.. I found out how my systems got hacked. I know who did it.” Wong held up a finger.
“I’m alright, Tony.”
“What?”
“I’m alright,” Wong repeated. “If anything, I owe you my thanks.”
“For what? Ruining your life? Have you two been messing with me?”
“We’re not messing with you. Well, I’m not. I can’t speak for Stephen.” Wong chuckled, and thumbed through his papers. “I’m happy, Tony. We’re happy. You owe us nothing.”
“I feel terrible.” Tony said. Wong gave him a wry smile. “You shouldn’t.”
Tony sighed, then nodded. He walked down the shallow stairs, out into the bustling sidewalk. People shoved past him, a few turned to watch him as he began to walk back.
"Tony." Stephen Strange stood opposite to him, a scarf wrapped around his neck and a bag of groceries held in his arms. “Were you coming to visit? I don’t see a housewarming gift.” He joked. Without the cloak and tunic, he looked almost domestic.
"Stephen.." the wind was cool. "It was you, wasn't it? You hacked my cameras.”
Strange raised an eyebrow.
"Your lesson.” Tony said, “ 'The tell-tale signs of mystic meddling in technology.' My cameras, my code. Showed every sign." He scoffed. "Y’know with some time, I could make something to scan for that automatically, no checklist needed."
"Right." Stephen said skeptically. They looked back to the apartment, some ways away. Wong was chatting with a neighbor. The woman, a bit lanky, was speaking enthusiastically about something or the other and Wong watched, nodding his head, listening. “Why’d you do it?”
Tony looked to him, but Stephen had not met his eye. He still watched Wong.
“It took me years to tell Wong how I felt about him. He knew that I loved him. But I couldn’t say the words aloud. As long as I was Sorcerer Supreme, love was a luxury I felt I couldn’t afford.” Stephen paused. “He waited for me for decades. Now that I’ve found the courage to express my appreciation, I will not hide him any longer.”
“I wish you had told me all that before I spent the money on the lawyers,” Tony said after a moment. Stephen laughed, an honest laugh