Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Ancient One—Earth-1487, Gap Junction

Paths arched and spun away from the Ancient One as she stood at the center of the Gap Junction. Pillars of reality hung in the space around her, seemingly unconnected and broken apart as they floated through the rose-stained sky. But then the pillars, like the paths, were only symbols that had manifested over time.

Here at the Gap Junction, the entirety of the multiverse was within reach, if one knew what paths to take.

It was enough to make her feel… small. Humbled. She was just one soul, no matter how long lived, in the midst of the multiverse.

But she was not here to reach out into the multiverse. No, she had come here for answers from the one source she could think to turn to when the fate of her universe hung in the balance and her own knowledge and power had failed her.

This was not a time in which failure was allowed.

Not with the stakes in place.

All things ended, but she could not believe that their universe was destined to end now. She had never bowed to impossible odds before, now would not be when she started.

The Book of Vishanti rested on the pillar in front of her. The only one of its kind in all of existence, shared between the multiverse and protected here in the Gap Junction.

She moved closer to the pillar. In all her years, she had never before come to the Gap Junction, though she had known of its existence. Light radiated from the book. It shone brilliant enough to pierce into her very being, yet soft enough to beckon her closer.

She imagined she could hear it whispering to her, quiet words carried on a wind that didn’t exist. She could not understand the words, not truly, but she recognized their meaning regardless.

Is your quest righteous? it seemed to ask. Is your motive pure?

Her mentor had once told her that the Book of Vishanti held within it the ability to give a person the knowledge they needed to vanquish their enemy—no matter how impossible the fight might seem. In the recesses of her mind she could hear the gravelly tones of her mentor, warning her away from easy answers and unearned power. After all these years, she could not remember his face—only the faintest memory that he had smiled often and freely—but she could remember his voice. The gravel in his tone, like rocks tumbling in an avalanche, as he had promised her a way to learn to live above her demons.

She held the memory close. It was one of the few from then that she possessed. Her path had taken much from her: her friends, her memories, her soulmate. It had taken her identity and molded her into what she needed to be, until she could not even remember her true name.

Now she was the Ancient One, nothing and no one more. Even if she knew that at one point she must have been.

She had carried the grief of that loss for so long that it was as much a part of her as the duties and responsibilities she had dedicated herself to.

She did not think this was the future her mentor had hoped for her, long and unending. But the visions had come to her, demanding her life in sacrifice to protect their reality. Not in death, as she had first thought—and had been so willing to give—but in the lack of death. In the sacrifice of the ideals that she taught and believed for the sake of a world that deserved to live.

Someday, that death would come to her. But when and how…

She thought, sometimes, that her end had come and gone and left her standing still. Some twist in fate that hadn’t come to pass and had left her to remain until someone else was prepared to take the burden from her.

The day had not yet come. Someday, it would. Someday, it had to. It was a truth she clung to.

For now, she lived; for now, she protected this reality. Except, now reality had turned against itself and for all the Ancient One’s power, she could not fight infinity and win.

It had been that necessity that had sent her to the Gap Junction in search of power that lay beyond her. The power that would allow her to protect her reality from the very powers of infinity that threatened to rip the universe apart.

She did not know how the infinity stones had been corrupted, or if perhaps they had always been corrupted and only now were they acting. But she could feel them engaged in a war against infinity itself that would rip the very universe apart.

The destruction that raged now was nothing compared to what would be, merely the opening salvos of a war that had not truly begun to be waged.

She reached out to the altar and grasped the Book of Vishanti. Power seeped into her veins, soothing and peaceful. The book was warm to the touch where she grasped it. The leather was soft beneath her fingers as her fingers traced the patterns engraved into the leather at the very beginning of time; it was old and ancient in a way that even she could not fully comprehend.

For a moment she just breathed.

She opened the book carefully, a strange reverence falling over her. The words twisted before her eyes, impossible to read.

Is your quest righteous? it seemed to ask. Is your motive pure?

“I come to protect my reality,” she said. Her voice echoed in the space of the Gap Junction as she addressed the book. “Infinity rips it apart. All of life stands in the balance.”

The pages trembled and then the pages turned, rapid and sharp as though lifted by an imperceptible wind. It did not last long, the movement cut short as quickly as it had started. The pages settled and this time when she gazed at the pages the words were clear.

She steeled herself for the cost—for all things had a cost—and read grimly as the Book of Vishanti detailed out exactly how to save her reality.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark—Earth-1487, Stark Tower—Earth-1487

Tony laughed as Stephen threw his towel at him. Tony made a face as the towel landed on his shoulder, quite noticeably damp. Gross. What had happened to his husband’s absolute need for cleanliness? And why did it only disappear when it could be used to make Tony’s life difficult. “I hope you know you’re cleaning that up,” Tony told him as he shrugged the towel off so that it fell on the floor. “Because I’m not.”

Stephen laughed. “I’ll get it,” he promised as he sauntered closer. He wore a pair of old sweats, settled low on his hips. he hadn’t yet put on a shirt which left plenty of beautiful skin on display for Tony’s grateful perusal. Stephen stepped behind Tony; his arms wrapped around Tony’s waist, pulling him close. The stress of the past few hours—days, weeks, months—eased a little as Stephen held him close.

Tony could smell Stephen’s body wash, a hint of bergamot, clean and fresh. Tony set his tablet on the desk and leaned back. The warmth of Stephen’s bare skin seeped through Tony’s shirt. He turned his head a little and pressed a kiss to the soul mark on Stephen’s neck, a decorative circle that Tony had never been able to identify, but knew in his bones was important.

Warmth spread through him at the touch, easing his strain further.

Stephen let out a pleased hum.

Tony settled into the feeling, basking in it, before he forced himself back into the moment. “How was your day?” Tony asked.

“Dealt with a subdural hematoma,” Stephen said. His arms tightened around Tony’s waist, a subtle sign that it had not all gone as well as his light words implied. “Several times. Christine and I got caught in a loop.”

Tony let out a sharp breath; he turned in Stephen’s arms to check him over carefully. Stephen seemed to have a dangerous susceptibility for being caught in time loops. The first—and worst—had lasted a week. Stephen had been trapped trying to keep a patient alive through a difficult craniotomy. He’d returned home frazzled and confused, released from his shift early after surviving the same thirty minutes for a long, torturous week.

Tony had spent hours holding him, doing everything he could to anchor Stephen in the present. The only redeeming feature of that experience was that Stephen had successfully kept his patient alive through the ordeal. Tony didn’t want to know what Stephen would have done if the patient had died.

“Are you okay?” he asked. The strain in Stephen’s eyes was familiar, but it was neither overwhelmed nor haunted.

“It was a five minute loop and it only lasted a few hours,” Stephen reassured him. “And the girl remained stable throughout it all; the loop had no adverse effect on the surgery itself. Christine and I have learned how to tailor our reactions to the loops with minimal chances of endangering anyone. At least we were together.”

It wasn’t always the case. One person could be trapped with the rest of the world unaware. Sometimes there were two. Sometimes a whole room worth. It was never possible to guess how it would happen or who it would happen to.

Stephen had, unfortunately, gotten very good at managing his reactions.

Not every one did. Too often a loop caught people unaware, reactions twisted between the past and the present. People were getting hurt, people were dying as their present became the past. Some died over and over again, others managed to save themselves. Others only died once, but for them, once was enough.

“How about you?” Stephen asked, tone of voice making it clear he didn’t want to pursue the matter of his loop any further. “How was your day? Did you find anything?”

Tony clenched his jaw, pain and guilt twisting into an ugly knot in his chest. “No,” he admitted quietly. It was the same answer he’d given every day for the past four months. “Nothing. Me, Pym, Richards, Banner. The government sponsored science committee. We’re all coming up with nothing. Gamma radiation is off the charts. People are getting sick. But there’s no source.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Bright side, Banner’s experience in gamma radiation means that we’re ahead in finding a treatment. We’ve got it FDA approved and I’m funding it so that healthcare companies and insurance can’t jack up prices. But…” But there was so little they could do to prevent it from happening in the first place.

They knew gamma radiation had something to do with the havoc that was being wrecked. But they didn’t know what.

Stephen pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Tony,” Stephen started, his tone gentle. “You’re going to figure this out.” There wasn’t an inch of doubt in Stephen’s voice, as though he really believed it. Tony needed it desperately, but it wasn’t enough.

“A plane found itself in the ocean,” Tony snapped. How was he supposed to figure that out? “The sky literally became a floating sea. We got a mayday and…” He closed his eyes, trying to get himself back under control. He couldn’t snap at Stephen; his husband didn’t deserve that. “When the sky righted itself again, the plane fell out of the sky. The engines…” Engines weren’t meant to be submerged under water. When the sky became the sea, that’s exactly what happened.

“Tony, that’s not your fault,” Stephen said gently.

But the longer it went when Tony couldn’t fix it, the more it felt like it was. He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Banner had nearly had an episode with ‘the other guy’ when they’d learned what had happened to the plane. The helplessness, apparently, wasn’t good for his ability to cope with the mean, green, rage machine inside of him.

“We’re just lucky they were over the actual ocean,” Tony said tonelessly. “Because that meant the plane didn’t come down over a city.” It was only a matter of time, though.

They’d gotten lucky, so far.

Stephen was quiet for a moment before he asked the looming question. “How many died?”

“286,” Tony said; exhaustion tugged at him. “I’m trying to convince the government to shut down all unnecessary travel. But the whole world seems to have decided that if we’re all going to die, then we might as well live the last of our lives to the fullest. Apparently trips abroad are on the schedule.”

Stephen sighed. “You can’t stop people from being people, Tony. That’s not your fault.”

“The world’s tearing apart at the seams,” Tony whispered. “But I can’t figure out why.” How was that not his fault?

Stephen didn’t say anything. His arms tightened around Tony, and Tony let himself take a moment to be weak in his husband’s embrace.

He thought of the mocking titles he’d been given, the da Vinci of his time, the wonder genius, the most brilliant mind on the planet. What did any of that do when he couldn’t stop the world from falling apart?

But he couldn’t beat this. Not when the very aspects of reality seemed to be waging war against each other. Wormholes formed without warning. Time loops caught innocent people for hours or days. Destruction lurked behind every moment, as though the earth had been riddled with landmines. Reality twisted on its head, the whole world remaking itself into something that should be impossible. Unprecedented numbers of people fell into unexplained comas before slipping into death. Psychic damage spread, innumerable people scrambling for their sanity as the whole world screamed in their ears.

Millions had died.

Millions—billions—more would follow if Tony and the others couldn’t figure this out.

“I don’t know what to do, Stephen,” Tony admitted. “We’re running out of avenues to pursue, and things are only getting worse.”

“We’ll figure it out. You’ll figure it out.”

Tony wasn’t sure if Stephen actually believed his words. Tony knew he didn’t.

But he couldn’t stop trying. He couldn’t.

He buried his face in the crook of Stephen’s neck. His forehead pressed against the soul mark there. The touch sent a wave of warmth through him, soothing the strain and unease. He was not alone. He had Stephen.

He’d always have Stephen.

Stephen rocked them back and forth, a slight sway accompanied by Stephen’s slightly out of tune humming. Pink Floyd, if Tony knew his husband at all. Which he did. He tried to place the song based off Stephen’s humming. Echoes, he thought.

He wasn’t the musical trivia expert that Stephen was, but he knew his Pink Floyd, if only because he adored Stephen enough to add it to his track of favorites that used to be almost purely dominated by AC/DC.

A low humming noise caught his attention. It came from just behind Stephen.

Tony pulled away from Stephen’s hold to look over Stephen’s shoulder. Orange flames burned in a small circle in front of the closet. The circle grew larger into what Tony could only call a portal.

He frowned. Every wormhole that he’d recorded had looked like the depths of space. This… this was not that.

Was this the beginning of yet another unexplained phenomenon? Tension tightened in his gut, and he prepared himself for something, anything, to go wrong.

Stephen let go of him, turning to look at what was happening behind him.

Tony heard him inhale sharply. Stephen’s hand caught his and Tony held on to it tightly.

On the other side of the portal was a room of dark brown wood paneling and green arm chairs. A woman stepped into view. Tony stiffened. The woman looked unthreatening, in dark gray robes and the light of the portal glinting off her bald head.

Something about her terrified him.

“Tony Stark, Stephen Strange.” Her voice was firm and unyielding; Tony found his back straightening at the authority in her voice. “I need you to come with me.”

“Who are you?” Tony demanded. “What do you want?” Fear curdled in Tony’s chest. The unknown was, more often than not, dangerous these days. Tony very much did not like the unknown showing up in his bedroom.

“You may call me the Ancient One,” the woman said. “And I have found a way to save our universe.”

Tony’s heart stopped as the words slowly penetrated. No. This… No. Good things didn’t just happen. Strange women didn’t show up with the answer to all their problems. This wasn’t legend, they weren’t Arthur, and she most certainly wasn’t the Lady of the Lake.

The world wasn’t just saved. Not so easily.

“Bullshit.”

The woman—the Ancient One—just stared at them, her expression unmoved. “I suggest you dress, Doctor Strange. There are things to discuss.”

“And why exactly should we be discussing anything with you?” Tony demanded.

The Ancient One’s expression didn’t change, and yet Tony thought he saw exhaustion flicker in her eyes. “Because you have searched everywhere for the answer,” she said. “If you come with me, you might just find it.”

Tony’s stomach lurched. Could he ignore even the faintest possibility that she did have answers? Could he turn away even the slightest chance?

He couldn’t.

“Stephen—” he started.

“I’ll put on a shirt,” Stephen said, clearly on the same page as Tony.

Stephen disappeared behind the portal, throwing on a t-shirt quickly and returning to Tony’s side.

The Ancient One beckoned them to follow her through the portal. Tony had a moment of reluctance following. He’d really prefer to have this conversation on his own turf, where he could at least pretend to have the upper hand. He forced himself through the portal, regardless. This was potentially too important to let his qualms get in the way of.

There was a fire burning in the hearth, despite the fact that it was May and warm; it made the room almost cosy. He supposed the extra warmth might be worth the improved atmosphere.

The portal closed behind them. It occurred to Tony that he didn’t even know where they were. They could be on the opposite side of the world; he didn’t have a way to know. Of course, even if that was true, it wasn’t the weirdest thing that could happen. Wormholes had been spitting people up in strange places, these days.

Tony had ended up in Afghanistan, of all places. Twice. GPS trackers had become a good friend of his.

The Ancient One sat, and beckoned for them to sit as well.

Tony hesitated, but did. Stephen sat next to him on the love seat. Stephen’s hand found his and Tony squeezed. “Okay, we’re here. You going to explain how we’re supposed to save our universe?” he asked. “Because that’s a pretty hefty claim you’re making right there.”

And why had she come to them? Yes, Tony was involved with the rest of the scientific community in trying to figure this out, but he was hardly the only one. He wasn’t even the most important one.

The Ancient One’s brow furrowed for a moment, her gaze fixed on his neck where his soul mark—the symbol that was meant to symbolize Stephen, a decorative eye they’d never found a connection to—stood in gold on his skin. Her gaze drifted to Stephen; Tony could see her deep in thought. Finally, she shook her head, apparently dismissing whatever it was that had caught her attention.

“You have noticed that the aspects of infinity are at war with one another,” she said.

“Not how I would have phrased it, but sure,” Tony agreed. He supposed ‘aspects of infinity’ was not the worst description he’d heard someone use. He’d go so far as to say that it made more sense than most. “We can go with that.”

“There exist six stones of infinity, singularities of immense power over their respective aspects of infinity,” the Ancient One started.

Great, Tony thought. Because the end of the world was being caused by six pebbles. That seemed likely. He ran a hand over his face, regretting his choice to come. This was clearly a waste of time.

“Power, Reality, Mind, Soul, Space, and Time,” she continued, ignoring his reaction. “They are called the infinity stones.”

“Creative,” Stephen murmured.

The Ancient One ignored him as well. “Nearly four years ago, one of the stones was acquired, often overlooked, but perhaps the most powerful of them all due to the influence it could wield on the other stones. The soul stone. It was vulnerable after eons alone and was corrupted by its new wielder. That corruption leaked through the bonds of infinity and poisoned the others. Where once they sought only to stabilize reality, now they seek to destroy it.”

“Right,” Tony said. Story time. Story time was just great. Only the fact that Tony had no better answers than this mystical nonsense stopped him from leaving. Science had failed, and Tony was desperate. “So, what are we supposed to do about that? Where are these stones? How do we un-corrupt them?”

“We cannot,” the Ancient One said quietly. “Perhaps if we had access to even a single stone, we might have been able to undo what has been done. But all those that have touched earth have been taken away.”

Frustration bubbled beneath his skin. “You said—”

“I said I know how to save our universe. But it is not something we can do without aid.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at her, but shoved down his frustration. He’d been working with Pym for the last several months; if he could handle that, he could handle working with anyone. Even cryptic women telling wild tales. “Fine, right. Who do we need to call? The world is falling apart, sounds like something most people would be willing to help with.”

“We need the wielders of infinity,” the Ancient One said easily. “The guardians and protectors.”

That was not at all an answer.

How irritating.

“Okay, great. Who and where are they?”

The Ancient One clasped her hands together. “They are the two of you,” she said calmly. Tony barely had a moment to feel confused; she had just said that they couldn’t fix this. “Spread across the multiverse.”

Tony stared at her. “The multiverse,” he repeated. “That’s…” Not the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. Not even the most absurd thing he’d heard today. Tony had always believed in the multiverse. Sure some scientists argued that the inability to pursue the theory with any degree of healthy scientific inquiry meant that it was a crackpot idea, but Tony had figured that meant they just weren’t advanced enough, yet. Someday they would be. “Okay, right. How are we supposed to find them? Pretty sure I don’t know how to travel through the multiverse.”

And he didn’t exactly have the time to learn.

“We call them,” the Ancient One said easily. Tony really wanted to know where they were finding a multiversal cell phone. “There is a spell.” Magic. Okay. Not Tony’s favorite thing—because how else did the sky become the sea if not some sort of magic—but he could deal with it if it was going to give him answers. And a spell sounded slightly easier than creating a multiversal cell phone.

Hopefully.

“So we call them up?” Tony asked. He tried not to be too skeptical, tried to focus on the hope instead of the doubt. Sure, it sounded entirely implausible and ridiculous, but Tony was willing to go with that. “What’s the catch?” There always was one, these days.

“I cannot perform the spell six times,” she said simply. “Many would not be able to perform it even once. But, I could, perhaps, manage the spell magnified by three. It is why I found the two of you.”

Tony was about to ask why, when Stephen spoke up. “Because we’re soulmates,” Stephen guessed. “You can perform it on one of us, and it will work for both. Because we’re bound together.”

“And it will pull other versions of you that are also bound together. One spell. Three pairs. Six stones.”

Well, that would be convenient. If it worked. Tony was skeptical. “What if there aren’t three versions of us that just so happen to be bound together in a way that gives us all six stone people?” Tony asked. Hell, what if there weren’t any? Why would some version of Tony and Stephen have access to these… infinity stones?

“The two of you are… nexus points.” Nexus points? Them? What? They were a business man and a neurosurgeon. That didn’t seem like the sort of thing that the universe cared about. “And this is infinity,” the Ancient One continued. “Can you imagine that in all of infinity, it is impossible?”

Right, well, that was reassuring.

Not.

Nexus points. Infinity. Tony tried not to think too much about either.

“All right,” he agreed. It all sounded like nonsense, but at this point, Tony was willing to try anything. “What do we do?”

Chapter Text

Stephen Strange: The Warden of Power—Earth-7001, New York Sanctum—Earth-7001

Something stirred in the air, catching Stephen’s attention as he crossed the Sanctum foyer. He paused, letting his senses spread out to determine the cause. He could feel it, a shifting of power in the air around him.

Tempered power wrapped around him in a slow, steady crawl. He went still, observing the spell carefully, trying to decide if it was a threat.

It was… and it was not. He followed the power, seeing it reach beyond him as well. He knew without following it to its destination that the power was wrapping around Tony as well.

Protectiveness surged over him; it took effort to not immediately obliterate the spell trying to touch Tony.

There was time before the magic fulfilled its duties; Stephen couldn’t jump to conclusions. He examined the lines of power, reading in them the lines and codes of magic.

Worry twisted inside him. He had never seen a spell of this sort before. Even with his natural ability to read the waves of power, this spell spoke of things beyond him. What he did know was that this spell, whoever had cast it, was both incredibly strong and almost impossibly desperate.

He reached for the Eye of Agamotto where it rested against his chest and unlocked it. Purple light spilled out. Stephen smiled down at the power stone. He gathered some of its power into his grasp and then spun it out at the spell around him to power his own detection spell.

The truth of the spell being weaved around him was immediately apparent. Fear curdled in his gut. Not for him and Tony, but for the caster of this spell.

This was… this was beyond anything he had thought possible. He could not cut the bonds of the spell trying to wrap around him and Tony. Or rather he could, but deep in his heart he knew that he wouldn’t. Not when the caster’s desperation now beat deeply in his own heart.

Tony, he reached out mentally.

Tony didn’t respond immediately. Stephen prodded carefully through their mental link. Asleep.

Tony, Stephen pressed harder. He hated waking Tony up, not when Tony’s sleep was as sparse as it was, but this was something that involved both of them.

He felt Tony sluggishly wake up. Stephen? Tony asked. What’s wrong?

You might want to be dressed, Stephen suggested. Because we have maybe five minutes before we’re going to get tugged out of this reality.

Tony didn’t answer immediately. Please tell me that that was a very poorly thought out joke, Tony said, he sounded exhausted.

No, Stephen admitted; guilt twisted in his chest. God, he wished there was more he could do to protect Tony, but this… The spell is being weaved this very moment.

Can you break it? Tony asked.

Stephen scoffed. Could he break it? Of course he could. I could, he said, letting his offense slip into the tone. But whoever performed this spell is desperate.

He could feel the sigh that Tony let out, not quite verbalized through their mental bond, but sensed all the same. Try to keep the spell from yanking us out of this reality until I’m dressed, Tony said.

Stephen smiled.

Let Wong know, Tony added. You know you’re not supposed to leave this dimension. With only two sanctums, they’ll have to be on alert.

Stephen sighed. He should have remembered himself, but he’d… adjusted to having become a Living Sanctum. And sometimes… sometimes it was easier not to think of it. Not to think of the fact that he was not quite as human as he’d been before. He grabbed his phone and used speech to text to send Wong a message telling him to keep a careful eye on Hong Kong and London.

The cloak perked up at the words and flew from its place on the coat rack—Stephen still wasn’t sure why the cloak liked hanging there so much—to land on his shoulders, purple fabric swishing just over the ground.

He winced as his phone chimed with a new message containing Wong’s demand for an explanation.

“Tony and I are being called on by a multiversal ally,” he told the phone as he composed the message. “The need is sincere.”

Wong took a minute to respond, and when he did it was with grudging acceptance.

Stephen might be limited, now, in what he was allowed to do. But when a call such as this came, it was his duty to answer; it was his duty to help.

The fact that he and Tony were being summoned in such a way, told him that this could be nothing less than essential. He could feel it in the power that surrounded him and the desperation that laced the spell currently being woven around him.

He turned back to the spell wrapping around him and Tony both, observing it. It was growing more intricate, a beautiful array. There was something about the magic that was familiar, but Stephen couldn’t place it.

He didn’t end up needing to slow the spell down. Tony appeared at the top of the stairs only a minute later. Tony was dressed in a hooded jacket and jeans, with his sunglasses firmly in place hiding his eyes.

He looked like he was about to go out for a day in the park, the green glow of the arc reactor in his chest was the only indication of just how ready Tony was for the fight that they might or might not need to be prepared for.

“So,” Tony started. “Do we know what has our summoner desperate?”

Stephen shook his head. “But I expect we’ll find out soon.” He beckoned to Tony. “Come here. The spell shouldn’t pull too hard, but it’ll be easier to protect you if you’re close.”

Tony snorted, but crossed the space to him. “Liar,” Tony murmured. Tony wrapped his arms around Stephen’s waist. “You just like it when I’m close.”

Stephen smirked. “Both can be true,” he defended, slipping his arms around Tony’s waist in turn until they were holding each other. “Are you ready?”

Tony sighed. “Do I have a choice?” He buried his face in Stephen’s shoulder. The sunglasses dug into Stephen’s skin, but he ignored the sensation.

“I can still break the spell around you,” Stephen told him.

But not you? Tony asked, not moving out of his position.

“I’m needed,” Stephen said quietly. “I can’t abandon whoever this is.”

Then I’m coming with, Tony responded. If you say it’s important… then I won’t abandon you. Or them.

Stephen smiled. “I know,” he said. He’d never truly thought Tony would accept the offer out. It simply wasn’t in Tony’s nature. “Don’t worry, Tony. Everything will be fine.” He felt the power start to tighten.

“Five—“ Stephen started counting down. Tony pulled away a little, though not out of Stephen’s arms. “Four—“ Tony’s shoulders stiffened; his expression turned deadly serious. “Three—“ The cloak tightened around him, the purple fabric reaching out to wrap around Tony as well. “Two—“ Stephen gathered power around them, to cushion them when they landed.

“Ready or not,” Tony murmured, quiet enough it might have been nothing more than his voice in Stephen’s head.

“One.”

The world flashed bright and white. They fell, reality disappearing around them. He kept a firm hold on Tony, easing their way with power.

There was no impact with the ground. The sensation of falling merely disappeared as reality twisted back into existence around them.

Tony groaned, hand coming to his head. “Shit,” he muttered. “It’s screaming.” Stephen reflexively sent a twist of power in Tony’s direction, wrapping it around Tony’s mind to shore up Tony’s own shields.

Tony’s shoulders lost some of their tension. Thank you, Tony said through their bond, his relief audible.

Always, Stephen responded. But he was distracted. Stephen’s skin itched; something was wrong with the balance of power here.

“What the hell?” Tony asked, except his lips didn’t move and the words didn’t echo in Stephen’s mind. It was Tony’s voice, but not Tony. Stephen turned.

The Ancient One stood there—Stephen’s breath caught for a moment before he remembered that this was a different universe, and the woman standing there was not the Ancient One he knew—in the center of the room. Around her, standing at the four points of the compass, were three different pairs of… them. Four Tonys. Four Stephens.

Tony, whichever Tony it had been, was right.

What the hell?

Stephen Strange: The Protector of Reality—Earth-344898, Stark Mansion—Earth-344898

“Hell.” Stephen caught Tony as he stumbled. Tony let out a groan, but still managed to finish his complaint. “That was Hell.”

“Technically, that was Hela,” Stephen pointed out. He helped Tony get to the couch. They both fell onto it.

They were both exhausted. Tony had never had to portal that number of people before and Stephen had never fought an opponent quite like Hela. With Asgard at risk of utter destruction, he had prepared himself to remove her from reality permanently. Thor and Freya had chosen a different path.

Stephen felt regret for all of the Asgardians uprooted from their home, but he couldn’t help but be grateful that he had not been required to step up. To even consider doing what he’d been prepared to do… it wasn’t an action he took lightly.

Some things were worse than death.

Tony sent him an exasperated glare. “That wasn’t nearly as funny as you thought it was.” His glare disappeared, as concern filled his eyes. “Stephen, you’re cut.”

Stephen blinked. What?

Tony sighed, pushing from the couch to go find the med kit.

Stephen took in himself and blinked when he found the cut on his arm. The blood had soaked into his shirt, turning the light gray wool dark and stiff. The cut was no longer bleeding freely, having clotted. He poked at it gently. It was not too deep. Though he’d be better off with stitches.

“Okay.” Tony came back. “Are we taking off the shirt? Or ripping the sleeve?”

Stephen frowned. He pressed against the seams of the shirt, and used dimensional energy to cut the threads holding the sleeve in place.

Tony slowly unstuck the fabric from the cut, before he carefully tugged the sleeve off.

Stephen winced as Tony cleaned the wound and started stitching the wound up.

“I don’t want to hear a thing about my stitches,” Tony warned as he finished his work. “My stitches are fine.”

Stephen examined them, then shrugged. “They’re… passable.”

Tony threw Stephen’s bloodied sleeve at him. “You look ridiculous with only one sleeve. Fix yourself up.”

“That’s cheating, you know,” Stephen said, feigning concern. “Wong would be disappointed in me. You know how much I hate it when Wong is disappointed in me.”

Tony just raised an eyebrow at him.

Stephen glanced around, more instinct than logic, to make sure no one was watching. He brought his hands up to the Eye of Agamotto and spelled it open. Red light shone out; he used Reality to quickly repair the fabric of his shirt—the spell was not so difficult that he needed Reality, but it made it easier to reweave the protective spells within it—and reattach the sleeve.

He could, theoretically, use Reality to heal his wounds, but he’d been warned against such practices. The body was not meant to be carelessly played with. Stephen had been a doctor too long to just throw magic at the body without proper study.

Perhaps ironic, given some of the things he had done with the power of reality, but… sometimes it helped to have those small limitations in place. It kept him feeling human.

“Your hair’s a mess,” Tony murmured. His hand came up and tucked a strand of hair behind Stephen’s ear. “Want me to braid it?”

Stephen caught at his hair, frowning as he noted that the white strands were snarled in knots. “Yes please.”

Tony moved off the couch again, grabbing a brush and a thick band from the closest bathroom before he sat behind Stephen. Stephen felt Tony tug his hair out of its pony tail and start brushing.

Stephen felt a moment of guilt as he reveled in the soothing nature of Tony carefully brushing out Stephen’s hair. He knew Tony was exhausted, but here he was, taking care of Stephen. “It’s fine,” Tony murmured, somehow realizing just what was bothering Stephen.

He always did.

There was a slight displacement of air and then Loki appeared in front of them. He looked battle-weary but satisfied. He moved to the couch, collapsing on the other side of Tony.

Stephen tried to turn to look at him, but Tony made an annoyed noise. Right. Stephen looked straight ahead, as Tony started to gather and split his hair into three separate groups.

“I thought you were going to stay with Asgard?” Tony asked Loki, concern in his voice. “Did they really kick you out?” Anger creeped into Tony’s tone. “Because if they did, I’ve got words for your moth—“

“Mother did not kick me out. Nor did Thor.” Loki’s tone cracked on Thor’s name. In all the years that Stephen had known Loki, Thor had been a painful note with how he’d been trapped in a bastardized version of Odin’s Sleep caused by Loki’s own actions—and Thor’s own brashness, though neither he nor Tony ever said as much, knowing how Loki hated when they did—while Loki had been banished, unable to so much as see his brother.

“Then why are you here?” Tony asked. His confusion was clear. “Asgard—“

“Is not my home,” Loki said. “It has not been my home in eight years.” He gave them both a look that spoke of pain and grief and hope and love. “You two are my home.”

Stephen couldn’t help but smile at the acknowledgment. Still, he focused on the matter at hand. “They need you, Loki.”

“Mother is more than capable of handling Asgard’s situation. And I will visit.”

Tony sighed, quiet sorrow in the tone. Stephen agreed with the emotion. While he was glad that Loki was with them, he would always wish that Loki’s ties to Asgard were not so… strained. Not with the pain it caused Loki.

But Loki had been instrumental in saving Asgard from Hela. That should matter.

Tony’s hands tugged at his hair a little as he finished the braid off. “Love your hair,” Tony murmured as he pressed a kiss to Stephen’s temple. Tony said it every time he did this, as though reminding Stephen that the mark the fight against Dormammu had left on him had not broken him.

Stephen turned a little, sending a smile in Tony’s direction, though he kept his focus on Loki. “Visiting is all well and good, but—“ Stephen paused. Something was wrong. Fear sliced through him as he realized what was happening. Around them, reality unwound itself.

He reached immediately for the power of the reality stone in an attempt to fix the rip; it was too late. He could only see where he and Tony had been caught in an riptide of reality “Tony!” He twisted and caught Tony’s arm to ensure that they stayed together.

He heard Loki’s shocked yell, an aborted, “No!” before he and Tony were falling.

Stephen pulled Tony close as he pulled at Reality, trying to heal the rip they’d been caught in, but there was an active force tearing it apart, pulling him and Tony along.

The impact was not an impact. It was simply the sudden cease of falling.

Tony stumbled against him and Stephen caught him, gaze darting around the room to take in the threat that had ripped through reality to bring them here.

“What the hell?” It was Tony’s voice, but from further away.

He froze. There, barely an arm span in front of him, stood the Ancient One.

The Ancient One was dead. And reality could not bring back the dead.

But reality here was… wrong. The threads of reality had twisted and knotted, the fabric of it frayed and warped.

Yet somehow that wasn’t the strangest part. Standing an equal distance away from the Ancient One, forming a square, were three other versions of them.

What the hell, indeed.

Stephen Strange: The Keeper of Time—Earth-19999, Titan—Earth-19999

Stephen jolted as a granola bar dropped on his lap. He stared at it for a moment, mind not quite computing what he was seeing, not immediately.

He looked up.

Tony stood there. “Eat,” he said. “You kind of look like a stiff wind could blow you over, and not to be dismal, but Thanos is a whole lot worse than a stiff wind.”

Stephen stared down at the granola bar again. “Do you just carry granola bars around?” He picked it up; it took a moment to rip the packaging open. His hands ached, the spell to view those 14 million futures had drained him, and his hands were taking the brunt of that exhaustion.

Tony moved to sit next to him on the rock Stephen had picked. “Made a deal with Pepper. I forget to eat more often than I should when I get in a groove. Pepper doesn’t like it, but I don’t like having to stop in the middle of a project. This is our compromise. I carry a few granola bars and eat one when FRIDAY tells me, and Pepper won’t interrupt any binge shorter than 10 hours.”

Stephen considered that, considered Tony. “I probably shouldn’t eat your granola bar, then,” he said. He tried to smile. “You might get in the groove, then what will you do?”

His mind drifted to the future, Tony and Nebula on the ship, slowly starving as the oxygen ran out. Stephen’s breath caught in his throat, imagining Tony pale and thin staring out the window and waiting for death. A granola bar wasn’t going to make enough of a difference, then, but Stephen couldn’t take—

Tony laughed, and his tone came out fond but firm. “Strange, eat the granola bar.”

It was more instinct than thought that had Stephen biting into the granola bar, listening to Tony when he used that tone of voice had become… easy in the past centuries.

Cashews. Stephen liked cashews.

He looked out over Titan. Peter was with the Guardians, excitedly quizzing them on what it was like living in space. Quill was playing it up a little, some of his grief and rage over Gamora set aside, if only for a moment. Mantis and Drax were less helpful, but both were eagerly contributing to the conversation.

They had another thirty minutes, Stephen calculated. Thirty minutes before Thanos arrived.

Thirty minutes and he at least got to spend it at Tony’s side.

He took another bite of the granola bar. Tony was quiet next to him, not saying anything. Stephen glanced over to see that he was watching Peter and the Guardians as well.

His expression was pinched and uneasy.

Stephen wished he could offer him some sort of encouragement. Anything. But he had nothing to offer. Not with one in 14 million odds. Not with a future engraved with death.

The cashews suddenly tasted of ash in his mouth and he forced himself to swallow.

“If I die…” Tony started.

“You’re not going to die,” Stephen interrupted. Not yet, at least. Five years. That was as long as Stephen could buy Tony.

Tony snorted. “You can’t guarantee one in 14 million odds,” Tony said, dismissing Stephen’s promise too easily. “If I die, will you look out for him?” He gestured in Peter’s direction.

Stephen froze; he knew just how important of a promise this was to Tony. “If you die and I’m somehow still around…” Stephen nodded. “I’ll do what I can.” He inscribed the promise in his soul. He’d have looked after Peter anyways. He’d grown to care for Peter, after… after everything. But this was something he could offer Tony, a small comfort.

It wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough. But it was something.

Because if everything went… not right—nothing was ever going to be right again—but if everything followed the best path he had been able to find, then he and Peter would outlive Tony.

So he promised.

Tony’s eyes closed for a moment, though not fast enough to hide the grief that flashed through his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re not going to die,” Stephen said again. Not if Stephen had anything to do with it.

The universe depended on it, for one.

For the other…

Tony just shrugged. “As nice as it is to know that in your ultimate plan, I make it…” Guilt twisted in Stephen’s chest as Tony shook his head. “I’m not what people call an optimist, Strange.”

“Aren’t you, though?” Stephen asked. “You, more than anyone I’ve ever met, believe that the future can be beautiful. It’s why you try so hard to protect it.”

Stephen had seen it time and time again, had… had fallen in love with that unending devotion, that unquenchable determination, that unwavering dedication.

It was a truth that Stephen wasn’t ready to look too closely at.

Tony glanced at him, surprise in his eyes. “Most people say that’s fear, not hope.”

“Hope is a brutal and desperate thing, Tony.” He examined Tony for a long moment. “Though, yes, I think fear has played its role as well,” he acknowledged. He leaned to the side, pressing his shoulder against Tony’s. They weren’t friends—or rather, it was a one-way friendship, with Stephen’s knowledge so much more than Tony’s—but for a moment it felt like they could be, if things had gone differently for them.

There was so much they could have been, had things gone differently.

“Eat your granola bar,” Tony said quietly.

Stephen obediently did. The spell truly had taken a great deal out of him, and while, in many ways, he was more capable now than he’d ever been before—14 million futures, thousands of years, untold learning opportunities—it didn’t stop him from getting tired.

The granola bar, as small as it was, would help.

The press of Tony’s shoulder against his helped, too.

He finished the granola bar and Tony took the wrapper from him. “Can’t litter,” Tony said, his face straight. “Bad for the environment.”

The wrapper disappeared into the armor as Stephen laughed. “Well, we can’t have you harming the environment here on Titan,” he agreed, mock seriously. “It’s a delicate ecosystem, here.”

He wondered if Titan would ever be repopulated. If anyone would ever expend the resources to make it habitable again.

He hoped so.

As it was now, Titan felt like Thanos’ monument, a testament to his rabid ideology. Stephen wanted to see that monument torn down and built up into a monument of hope and regrowth.

Stephen didn’t know enough about terraforming to know if that was even possible. Tony would probably know, Stephen thought.

He imagined asking Tony, listening to Tony dive into the question. His hands would come up, would gesture vehemently as he made some point or another.

Stephen could picture it perfectly, despite the fact that it was not a conversation they’d ever had.

Tony laughed lightly at Stephen’s poor attempt at humor; it drew Stephen out from thoughts of conversations he and Tony would never have. “Yeah, well—“

Power tingled down Stephen’s spine.

Stephen stiffened and Tony immediately went quiet.

“Something’s wrong,” Stephen said, trying to find the source.

But there was no time.

He felt the power latch into him, pulling hard as he fell. This was a power he’d never felt before, something he couldn’t account for. This was…

Tony was falling with him and Stephen caught his arm, pulling him close to better protect him. Stephen didn’t know what this was. But he didn’t want to risk losing Tony because of it.

They landed. Or maybe they didn’t, maybe they’d always been landed and it was reality that had fallen away.

They fell against each other, stabilizing themselves.

“What the hell?” Tony asked. Stephen could feel him preparing for battle.

His own magic itched just beneath his skin.

Something was wrong here. Something was very wrong here. Time was out of sorts, itching like an infected wound.

He looked around, taking everything in instantly. The Ancient One stood in front of him. Had they time traveled? No. He knew time intimately. He would have known, would have felt time act on him. This hadn’t been time. This had been something… other.

This was not his Ancient One.

He felt Tony’s hand starting to come up, repulsor activating. He caught Tony’s wrist in his hand and pushed down. “No,” he murmured, making sure he was quiet enough that only Tony would hear. This might not be his Ancient One, but it was an Ancient One. Stephen did not want to start a fight with her.

Tony hesitated for a moment, but apparently he trusted Stephen enough to lower his hand.

Stephen’s gaze darted around the room, and he felt his confusion grow.

Because standing in a circle around the Ancient One were not one, not two, but three different pairings. Different, yet the same.

Because they were all Tony and Stephen.

Tony was right.

What the hell?

Chapter Text

Stephen Strange—Earth-1487, Stark Tower—Earth-1487

A part of Stephen had still been struggling to believe it. Maybe he shouldn’t have, after all, he’d seen the world become more and more surreal as the months had passed. The wormholes and time loops were only the beginning of it.

He still tried not to think about it, tried not to think about being trapped for seven long days. The way he’d trembled in the aftermath as he fled home and to Tony’s arms.

It had been the first time that time had caught him in one of its webs; it had not been the last.

He tried to reassure himself that it hadn’t been worse. There was so much worse that could have—that still could—happen.

But all of that… It hadn’t prepared him for coming face to face with three other pairs of him and Tony standing in a square in an empty room of Stark Tower where the Ancient One had performed the spell, magnified to three times its strength.

He examined the group carefully. The first pair looked… almost normal.

The Tony was dressed in a jacket and jeans, his neatly trimmed beard contrasted with his shaggy hair that fell over the sunglasses that covered his eyes. The only truly strange thing about him was the circle of green light on—or was it in?—Tony’s chest.

The Stephen at his side had a well-maintained soul patch on his chin; his hair was a little longer than Stephen’s own, with streaks of silver gray that Stephen himself would have if he didn’t religiously dye them away. This Stephen wore a charcoal gray set of… martial robes? There was a deep, dark purple cloak over his shoulders, shifting in a non-existent wind. He had a necklace hanging down his chest. Stephen froze. Because he recognized that symbol. It was the symbol outlined on Tony’s neck, the soul mark that was meant to represent Stephen, but that Stephen had never understood.

His gaze darted to the other Stephens. Somehow he wasn’t surprised to find that the other two had the same necklace hanging around their necks. Unease twisted in Stephen’s chest.

His gaze drifted to the second pair of Tony and Stephen.

This Tony was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. His hair was a little sweaty, as though from exertion, and he had a styled goatee that Stephen had to admit suited him well. Not that his own Tony’s mustache didn’t suit, but the goatee was a nice touch. This new Tony’s eyes were a little too blue, almost electric blue, clear enough that Stephen could see them even from the distance that would normally obscure that color. They were a little unnerving.

The Stephen next to him had long white hair with streaks of black, tied behind him in a braid that fell half-way down his back. He wore a goatee not overly dissimilar to his Tony’s own. He was dressed in the same style robes as the other Stephen, though his were a lighter gray and his cloak was a dark, navy blue shifting back and forth in a way that seemed to express a deep uneasiness. An eye-shaped necklace, as Stephen had already noted, hung from his neck.

His gaze turned to the third pair.

This Tony was the strangest of the lot. He was wearing a metal suit of armor painted red and gold with a triangle of blue light glowing from the metal on Tony’s chest. He had a goatee not unlike the second Tony, though his eyes were a warm brown like Stephen’s own Tony rather than the unnatural blue.

The Stephen next to him had the same streaks of silver-gray in his hair that the first Stephen had and had a stylized goatee that matched the second Stephen’s. His robes were a dark blue and the cloak over his shoulders was a dark red; Stephen swore it waved at him.

It was… surreal. All of it.

Because he looked at them and saw him and Tony, but it was a shattered reflection. Because these men standing in a triangle across from where he and Tony stood were not them.

And yet they were.

His gaze drifted over the three Stephens again and the necklace they all had. They carried the symbol that was meant to be symbolic for Stephen himself, and yet before this moment he had never seen it before.

It left a sour feeling in his gut, as though he had stepped off a path he was meant to walk.

At the same time, he could not imagine what sort of path had led to the… strange assortment in front of him.

“Okay, not to dismiss the absolutely fascinating discovery that the multiverse is real,” one of the Tony’s—the one in armor—said. “But we really don’t have time for this right now.”

Stephen examined armored Tony, looking beyond the, admittedly distracting, first impressions. There was stress lining his face and a tension that Stephen had seen more and more in his own Tony as they’d failed to find a way to save their world.

“I can return you to your time within minutes of your departure,” the Ancient One said, tone calm. “We are in dire need of your assistance.” Her gaze darted around to take in all of their multiversal visitors. “We are in dire need of all of your assistance.”

Armored Tony pursed his lips, glancing at his own Stephen.

That Stephen murmured something quietly. Armored Tony sighed, then nodded. “This better be important.”

Stephen’s Tony snorted. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Stephen could tell that he was feeling defensive. “Oh, just the ripping apart of our—” Tony gestured between the two of them. “—reality. That important enough for you?”

That caused a stir amongst everyone. Stephen felt his own gut tighten. It had been impossible to not notice the world falling apart, but the Ancient One had made it clear that what they were seeing now was just the beginning.

The memory slipped past the walls he’d tried to lock it behind, seven days of those thirty minutes happening over and over and over, alone in a loop that he had feared would never end, trying desperately to keep the patient on his operating table stable through all of it.

He closed his eyes. He’d been caught in several time loops since then, but that had been the worst.

He did not want to imagine worse.

“What do you mean?” one of the other Stephen’s asked, the one with long white hair tied back in a braid. “Reality here is… tattered. Like the threads of a tapestry coming undone.”

Stephen wondered how he knew that. But then, it was clear that the Stephens in front of him had lived very different lives than he had.

Stephen glanced at the Ancient One, wondering if she was going to answer the question. She understood what was happening far better than Stephen or Tony did, after all.

Her gaze shifted over each of the other Tonys and Stephens. “There exist, in each universe, six infinity stones.” Every single Stephen and Tony stiffened. They clearly had a far better understanding of what an infinity stone was than Stephen or Tony had had. “A constant in the act of creation. Within our own universe, a corruption has seeped into the stones, originating with the soul stone. Now, the stones act upon the aspects they embody, slowly ripping apart the very fabric of our universe. The process will only gain momentum until we are beyond the point of no return.”

The Tony with blue eyes whistled lowly. “Yeah, that seems important. Not sure what we’re supposed to do about that, though.”

“Do you not?” the Ancient One asked. “Are you not the Defender of Space?” she asked. “Have you not taken that burden upon your shoulders?”

Blue eyed Tony twitched slightly. He pursed his lips. “I forgot how much I hated you,” he said. “You know too much.”

White haired Stephen knocked his Tony’s elbow. “You didn’t hate her.”

Blue eyed Tony shrugged. “Sometimes I did. She could be incredibly aggravating when she wanted to be.”

“You gave as good as you got,” white haired Stephen muttered, just loud enough to be heard. He was smiling though, as though the memories were good.

Blue eyed Tony smirked a little. Clearly that was a point of pride for him. But he focused back on the Ancient One. “Okay, so you just so happen to know about my little attachment to the Space stone. And I’m going to take a wild guess and say you know about Stephen’s little friends-with-bennies with Reality—”

“Please do not call my relationship with the reality stone a ‘friends-with-bennies’,” white haired Stephen said, sounding annoyed. “That’s just… distasteful.”

Blue eyed Tony smirked. “Yeah, but it’s accurate, isn’t it?” His gaze glanced over the rest of them. He gestured in Stephen and Tony’s direction. “Those two are the Tony Stark and Stephen Strange of this universe, and the rest of us are, what, stone defenders?”

“That is correct,” The Ancient One said easily. “Stone wielders, pulled from your universes to help protect our own. Tony Stark, the Defender of Space. Stephen Strange, the Protector of Reality.” Her gaze landed on the Tony in sunglasses and his Stephen. “Tony Stark, the Champion of Mind. Stephen Strange, the Warden of Power.” She turned toward armored Tony and his Stephen. “Stephen Strange, the Keeper of Time. Tony Stark, the Steward of—”

“Yeah, we’ve got a problem,” armored Tony interrupted. “Because I’m not who you think I am.”

The Ancient One raised an eyebrow. “Are you not?”

“I’m no ‘stone wielder’, or whatever you called the rest of them. And I’m certainly not the Steward of, what, Soul? That’s the only one left, right? Yeah. Definitely not that.”

Stephen felt his stomach twist in unease. They needed the stone wielders. And Soul was, perhaps, the most important of them all. Soul had started the corruption, and if it wasn’t cleansed, then who was to say that the others would stay cleansed even if they managed it?

“You would not be here, were you not who I say you are,” the Ancient One said calmly. “I have seen you, your life. Just as I have seen all the others summoned here.”

Every single one of their multiversal visitors flinched. Clearly that wasn’t something they took any pleasure in. Stephen personally agreed, he hoped that the Ancient One hadn’t had to see into his past during her little spell. That would be… uncomfortable. Unfortunately, given the nature of the situation and the general… discomfort of the circumstances, Stephen was going to guess that she probably knew more than Stephen wanted her to.

“Then you’d know—”

“And Soul has slipped through the cracks of your universe to obey your commands. Has, even in its isolation, sought your protection.”

Armored Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I’m calling bullshit.” He looked at his Stephen. “Can we—” He paused. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, sounding annoyed. Stephen glanced at the Stephen in question who was watching armored Tony with a furrow in his brow, eyes dark and thoughtful. “Because I’m not—”

“It would make sense,” armored Tony’s Stephen murmured. “You can’t really think that FRIDAY, that all of your bots, are the result of mere coding.”

Armored Tony scowled. “I’m a good programmer. The best, really.”

“It goes beyond good programming.” Armored Tony’s Stephen shook his head. “You can’t code life, Tony. You can’t code an AI a soul. That’s what you did.” Armored Tony’s Stephen let out a breath. “I should have seen it,” he said, almost too quiet to hear. “This might change everything.”

“Wait, you coded an AI with a soul?” sunglasses Tony asked. “Are you talking about JARVIS?”

Jarvis? Stephen wondered, Tony’s old butler?

Armored Tony flinched. “JARVIS would be one example,” armored Tony said, tone a little curt. Clearly it was a sensitive subject. “And whether or not he… was alive. That’s not something we have proof of either way.”

“Yeah, I mean, I love JARVIS,” blue eyed Tony said. “And when it comes to AI, there are none even close to his level. But if your JARVIS was alive…”

“Can we stop talking about JARVIS?” armored Tony snapped. Yep, very sensitive. “Don’t we have a universe to save from its possible destruction? Let’s focus on that, why don’t we?”

“Indeed,” the Ancient One agreed.

“How about we get comfortable,” Stephen’s Tony suggested. “This whole standing around and staring at each other is getting stale.”

That was enough to get everyone moving. The Ancient One disappeared through a portal without a word, while Stephen and his Tony directed everyone out of the empty room and to the elevator and up a floor to where they had actual seating.

“Okay, can we discuss the aardvark in the room?” one of the Tony’s said, as they all got relatively comfortable. It took him a moment to realize it had been armored Tony, who was somehow no longer wearing his armor and was now in a track suit. Where the hell had the armor gone? Stephen was going to have to come up with a new name for him. “Because I’m getting really tired of trying to figure out what to call all of you people. I hate to say it, but there might be a little too much Tony Stark in the room right now.”

“If we are all stone wielders, we could just use the stone we’re the wielder of,” the white haired Stephen said. “Keep it simple.”

Sunglasses Tony flinched visibly. His Stephen immediately vetoed the idea. “No.”

“It is the easiest delineation,” Stephen pointed out. And only partially because it meant he got to keep his name, given he didn’t have a stone he was the wielder of. “Surely it’s best to stick to that.”

“Boring,” blue eyed Tony and no-longer-armored Tony said simultaneously.

“I call being regular Tony,” sunglasses Tony said.

“I want to be regular Tony,” Stephen’s Tony argued. “Because I’m pretty sure that compared to the rest of you I am the regular one here.”

“Wouldn’t that make you abnormal?” blue eyed Tony asked. “I mean, if you’re the one one who isn’t weird, doesn’t that make you weird?”

Stephen’s Tony paused. “Point,” he admitted. “But in the context of normal society, I think I’m the normal one, here. Which, I have to admit is weird, given in normal society I’m definitely not normal.”

“No one gets to be regular Tony,” red cloak Strange said, sounding exasperated. “Because all of you would argue about it.”

Stephen had to admit that red cloak Stephen was probably right.

No-longer-armored Tony pointed at blue eyed Tony. “You’re Blue Eyes.”

So, Stephen hadn’t been the only one to use that as a defining feature. They really were a startling blue. Blue Eyes made a face. “That’s boring, too.”

“Too bad,” Stephen said, hearing it echoed by several others.

Blue Eyes sighed. “All right. Fine. I’ll be Blue Eyes, as long as everyone acknowledges that they’re the prettiest blue eyes around.”

Stephen’s Tony and sunglasses Tony immediately protested.

“Stephen’s got you beat,” Stephen’s Tony said. Stephen blushed a little. “His eyes are absolutely the prettiest.”

No-longer-armored Tony turned towards Stephen and Tony, examining them. The look on his face seemed to indicate that he found them to be the weird ones. “You’re da Vinci,” he said, pointing at Tony. “Either that or Merchant.”

Stephen blinked in surprise. Those had both been names that Tony had been called before. Apparently that wasn’t specific to this universe. Tony made a face. “Not Merchant,” he said. Stephen could feel his discomfort. Tony wasn’t quite ashamed of SI, but it had been a long time since weapons had been all he was known for.

“Da Vinci it is,” no-longer-armored Tony agreed.

“I’ll be Anthony,” sunglasses Tony suggested. “Keep it simple.”

Stephen wrinkled his nose. Tony hated being called Anthony. It was a little weird to see any Tony out there claim the name.

“Fine,” no-longer-armored Tony agreed. “I’ll be… Stark.”

“No,” the other three Tonys protested. “That’s not fair,” Stephen’s own Tony added.

No-longer-armored Tony sighed. “Fine, Stark Raving.”

Blue Eyes laughed, while Stephen’s Tony let out a baffled “Why?”

“Did they name an ice cream flavor after you, too?” Blue Eyes asked. “Because that’s what my ice cream is called.”

Stephen blinked. Ice cream flavors? What?

“People made ice cream named after us?” Anthony asked. He sounded as baffled as Stephen felt.

“Ben and Jerry’s,” Stark Raving told him. “There are a few named after the other Avengers as well.” Avengers? “But Stark Raving Hazelnuts is the best.” Stark Raving glared at his Stephen, which seemed to indicate that it was a point of contention between them.

That Stephen seemed to be fighting a smile, but didn’t pursue the subject.

Anthony looked baffled, mouthing ‘Ben and Jerry’s’ to himself. Stephen felt bad for Anthony and his universe. Ben and Jerry’s really was quality ice cream.

He still wanted to know what Stark Raving and Blue Eyes had done to get ice cream named after them, though.

Stark Raving was looking around the room. “I don’t suppose we can just go Strange, Stranger Danger, Stranger Things, and Strange Planet?”

“No,” Stephen protested. He wasn’t the only one. He was pretty sure he knew which one of those was supposed to be him, and he didn’t want to be called Strange Planet.

Stark Raving looked disappointed at the immediate rejection, but he rallied quickly. “Gandalf, Merlin, Dumbledore, and… not a wizard.”

Wizards. Is that what the other Stephens all were?

“Also no,” the other three Stephens said, while Stephen was distracted by the thought.

“They have no taste,” Blue Eyes said mournfully. He pointed at Stephen. “I vote he’s Baby Face.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Stephen was suddenly very self-conscious about the fact that he was the only one not sporting some sort of facial hair. And true, he apparently wore it very well, but he hardly needed it. Also… “Not a chance in hell am I letting that happen.” He wasn’t going to be called Baby Face.

“You’re a doctor, right?” Anthony asked.

Stephen nodded. “Yes.” Had the other Stephens been doctors? Before… whatever they were, now?

Anthony smirked. “Fine, you’ll be McDreamy.”

“Oooh,” Blue Eyes agreed. “I love Grey’s Anatomy.”

Stephen had hated it. It was grossly inaccurate and a cesspit of dramatics. “I am not McDreamy,” Stephen protested. It was better than Baby Face, but really, not by much.

“Baby Face or McDreamy,” Stark Raving said. “Pick your poison.”

Stephen glared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine, I can accept McDreamy.”

Anthony pointed at Stark Raving and his Stephen. “If you’re Stark Raving, we might as well make it easy and make him Strange something.”

“Stranger Danger it is,” Stark Raving said immediately.

“I can accept that,” Stranger Danger said immediately. He sounded vaguely relieved. Given Stephen had just been named McDreamy, Stephen didn’t blame him. He’d want to avoid a similar curse if it was him. Unfortunately, the curse had already been placed.

“If we’re calling my Tony, Anthony, does that mean I get to be Stephen?” Anthony’s Stephen asked.

“No,” Blue Eyes said immediately. “That messes with our internal dialogue of who is who. We all know we’ll be mentally calling our personal Stephen’s Stephen. You can be Vincent.”

Vincent made a face. Stephen agreed. He’d never liked his middle name. “Fine,” Vincent agreed. “But only if we change my Tony to Edward.”

Oh. His Tony would hate that. That was even worse than Anthony. “I think I actually prefer McDreamy,” Stephen muttered.

Anthony—now Edward—glared at Vincent. “You’re really making me suffer? Just because you have to suffer?”

Vincent’s nose scrunched in amusement. “Yes. If I suffer, you suffer with me. Those are the rules.”

Edward looked far from pleased with this change.

Everyone turned to the final Stephen. His long white hair, tied in a braid, was clearly the most defining feature.

“Braid?” Tony suggested, clearly on the same thought process as Stephen.

“Grandpa,” Edward suggested.

“As long as no one is calling me Vincent,” Braid slash Grandpa agreed. “Or McDreamy.”

Stark Raving let out an eager oh. “Silver Fox.”

That earned a resounding, “Yes,” from all of the Tonys. Blue Eyes sounded particularly delighted.

“No,” Stephen protested.

“Seriously?” “Silver Fox, really?” peppered the room from the other Stephens.

“The yes takes it,” Blue Eyes said, eyes gleaming with familiar amusement. He turned to Silver Fox. “Honestly, what is wrong with me? I absolutely should have been calling you Silver Fox all this time.”

Silver Fox’s sigh was full of absolute long suffering. “You’re not going to drop this once we get back to our universe, are you?” Silver Fox asked.

Blue Eyes just grinned.

“I see you’ve sorted yourselves out,” came a voice from behind them. Stephen turned to see that the Ancient One was watching them all from the doorway where she must have portaled back in. She had an old book in her hands.

“Well,” Blue Eyes said. “We now actually all have something to call each other instead of having to clarify which Tony or Stephen we’re talking to at any given moment. So that’s useful.”

The Ancient One raised one careful eyebrow. “You shall forgive me if I have no desire to call the Protector of Reality, ‘Silver Fox’.”

Several people snorted in amusement at the thought. Stephen agreed. The idea of the Ancient One—who radiated a sense of power, responsibility, and authority—calling people ‘Silver Fox’ or ‘McDreamy’ was entirely ridiculous.

“Well, suit yourself,” Stark Raving said. “But if people get confused, don’t blame us.”

“I think I shall survive, Steward of Soul,” the Ancient One said easily.

Stark Raving’s face immediately went blank. “I told you, I’m not a stone wielder. Your spell didn’t exactly work as planned.”

Stranger Danger let out a soft sigh. “Tony,” he said quietly. “The Ancient One is not the sort to get a spell like that wrong.”

Stark Raving just crossed his arms over his chest. Stephen could recognize the look of stubborn disbelief on his face easily.

“Nonetheless,” the Ancient One said. “It is true that you are not in a position to help us as the others are, without that connection solidified. We shall have to hope that it is possible to overwhelm Soul with the weight of the others.”

Now Stark Raving looked offended, and perhaps a little regretful. He glanced at Stephen and Tony, apology in his eyes.

Stephen could see that he didn’t actually want to be letting them down. That he’d fully accepted that they needed help. That if he could, he would.

He simply… couldn’t.

But, well, there was nothing to be done about that.

“What do we need to do?” Edward asked. “How do we help?”

Chapter Text

Tony “Blue Eyes” Stark: The Defender of Space—Earth-344898

The Ancient One took her own seat on the only free space. The book she’d brought with her rested in her lap.

“Like calls to like,” she said simply. “Each of you—” she glanced at Stark Raving; Stark Raving’s lips pursed unhappily, ”—most of you, carry the stones with you.”

Tony couldn’t help the way his gaze searched out the slightest warp in space that only he ever saw. It was nothing more than a faint shimmer, easy to ignore most of the time, to the front and the right of him.

Loki had been the one who’d taught him how to make the pocket dimension where he stored the space stone. He hadn’t realized until this moment that it had traversed universes with him.

That really needed further study, had he brought a piece of their universe with him?

He noticed Edward’s hand coming up to his chest. He rubbed at his arc reactor, a look of discomfort on his face. The reactor, Tony realized, was green. What sort of element had Edward made? Surely it couldn’t be the same element Tony had? Or did chemical reactions give off different reactions in Edward’s universe?

He shelved the thought for later. Maybe they could have a ‘Tony Stark’ party when this was all over to compare notes.

There was no way it wouldn’t be absolutely fascinating.

“So we use the stones we have to get the stones of your universe?” Vincent asked, brow furrowed.

“It is not quite that simple,” the Ancient One said. Her hands smoothed over the cover of the book in her lap. Tony craned his neck to try to read the title, but it wasn’t in a language he read. And trying to keep up with both Stephen and Loki, Tony had learned a lot. “You are not bringing them to you, you will be meeting them where they are at: a separate plane of existence. As singularities, they inhabit more than this physical plane of existence.”

Tony frowned, but it was Stephen who put it together first. “We’ll need our astral forms.”

The Ancient One tilted her head in what was neither a yes nor a no. “You will be pure soul. Your physical bodies would not be able to exist in that plane.”

Tony ran a hand over his face as he took in what the Ancient One had just said. “So we’re going to… what? Put ourselves in comas, send our souls into a different plane of existence, try to un-corrupt all-powerful stones through some unspecified method, and hope that it works out?” It sounded risky. Especially since they were one man down.

The thing was Tony didn’t know that they had other options. Part of him wanted to say that it wasn’t his universe, wasn’t his problem… But he couldn’t. An entire universe was on the line. His universe or not, Tony couldn’t just ignore that.

Edward had retreated into himself, glancing at Vincent with a wounded, almost terrified, expression. Vincent had wrapped one arm around Edward’s waist, pulling him close. Tony recognized the look on his face. Stephen wore it all the time, when he was feeling protective over either Tony or Loki. Something about this whole situation hit Edward hard.

Tony had to admit to curiosity. In some ways he could see himself in all of these other Tonys, but there was also clear signs that they’d taken different paths. That in some ways they weren’t the same person.

“Do we have any better options?” Stranger Danger asked. He sounded tired.

“No,” Stephen said. There was strain around his eyes that Tony wanted to smooth away, but he knew that Stephen wouldn’t want attention drawn to his own hesitance, not around other versions of himself.

Stephen used Reality with some regularity, but fighting Reality… Stephen knew just how dangerous Reality could be. Tony didn’t blame him for not wanting to fight against it. Tony’s own hand clenched. Stephen had once destroyed Dormammu using just Reality. The cost had been high, but what chance did even Stephen have against an entity that could wipe Dormammu from existence. That could remake reality in such a way that Dormammu’s existence had been completely cut off, the past still intact, but with no possible future?

Tony wasn’t exactly pleased with the idea of Stephen facing that on his own.

“Tony!”

Tony looked around, saw Blue Eyes, Stark Raving, and da Vinci all looking around as well.

“Stephen!”

It took a moment, the sound distorted strangely, but Tony recognized the voice. He jerked to his feet. “Loki?” he called. He looked around, but there was nothing there.

“Loki?” several people asked, confusion obvious. “What do you mean—”

“Tony! Stephen!” The air rippled in front of them, and Loki’s voice came out clearer. “Tony! Stephen!”

“What the hell is that?” da Vinci asked.

A hand—pale and thin—appeared through the ripple, grasping at the edges of it. It was Loki’s hand, Tony was sure of it.

Everyone was on their feet, tense and wary.

There was a pained cry, and then Loki was appearing within the ripple in reality. He struggled through the rift and then collapsed to the ground, coughing desperately. Tony jumped to his side.

“What the hell?” someone asked, but Tony couldn’t concentrate on them. Stephen joined him on the ground next to Loki. Stephen’s hands ran over Loki quickly, searching for injuries.

“I am not injured,” Loki rasped as he caught his breath.

“Loki?” Tony asked. “What are you doing here?” How had he gotten here? He knew Loki was talented, but he’d somehow followed them into a different universe.

Loki looked up at him, something fierce in his eyes. “You thought for one instant I would let the two of you be stolen away from me?” he asked. Rage lit his eyes. “Now who is this thief who would think to take you?” Loki’s gaze flashed over the room. Rage stilled to be replaced by confusion as he recognized the others as Tony and Stephen variants.

“It’s not like that,” Tony said quickly. He held up his hands in a gesture to calm down. “It was an emergency. They had a good reason for it. And they were going to help us get back.”

“Why are there poor imitations of you?” Loki asked dangerously.

“Excuse me,” Tony heard Edward say. “I’m not a poor imitation of anyone.”

“If anything, the rest of you are poor imitations of me,” Stark Raving countered.

Tony rolled his eyes as da Vinci protested.

“We’re trying to cleanse some infinity stones,” Stephen said quietly. “They’re ripping this universe apart. We couldn’t abandon this universe to their fate.” He examined Loki seriously. “How did you find us?”

Loki sniffed. “You forget that I am an expert at slipping through the cracks. I used our bond to follow the path, traversing through gaps in the multiverse.” He made a face, the expression a mix of discomfort and determination. “It was… unpleasant. But I could not let the two of you be taken. Now it is time for us to go. I can find my way back, I am certain.”

Several people stirred around the room at the words.

Tony’s heart twisted; he touched Loki’s shoulder gently. “We would have come back to you,” he promised. “No matter what. But we can’t leave.”

“I just told you that I am capable of—”

“Not can’t,” Stephen joined in. “Won’t. We need to help them.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Fine.”

“You can go home,” Stephen said. “We will come back.”

“Well, this is far preferable,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “You may need my assistance.”

Tony certainly wasn’t going to say no to that. He couldn’t think of how Loki would help yet. It was Loki, though; he’d find a way.

“Hold on,” Stark Raving said. “I have so many questions.” Tony looked up to find that Stark Raving was staring at them with suspicion. “You and Loki are friends?” Stark Raving’s tone was a little hostile.

Tony frowned, a little confused at the reaction. “A bit more than friends,” he said, unable to help the way his tone turned sharp. “Do you have a problem with Loki?”

Stark Raving raised an eyebrow. “The last time I saw Loki he was trying to mind-whammy me during the New York invasion.” Stranger Danger stiffened, eyes flashing with a sharp protectiveness. “So yeah, I’ve got a little bit of a problem with him.”

Tony stared at him, knocked out of his annoyance by his sheer confusion. “What?” he asked. “Loki didn’t invade New York?” He shook his head. “The only thing Loki invades is our refrigerator.”

“What?” this time it was Edward. “Why is he invading the refrigerator?”

“Because he’s got a thing for midnight snacks,” Tony defended. “He gets the munchies.”

“Munchies,” Stranger Danger repeated. He was giving Loki a narrowed-eyed look. “Loki?”

“Yes,” Stephen said calmly. “He gets the munchies. Now I would greatly prefer if everyone could stop looking at our bondmate as though he were a threat.”

Stark Raving crossed his arms. “Sorry if the last time I saw him he was very much a threat.”

That still had Tony confused. “If Loki invaded in your world, what happened to Gamora and Nebula?” he asked. And Proxima, but Tony wasn’t particularly concerned about what had happened to that particular nightmare.

Da Vinci and McDreamy both looked completely lost—had they not had a New York invasion? But then, the Ancient One had said that this universe didn’t have an infinity stone on earth… there had been no reason for Thanos to invade; it wasn’t like earth had anything else to entice the rest of the universe in their direction—but the other two pairs of Tonys and Stephens just seemed more mildly confused, and distrustful, than anything.

“Gamora?” Stark Raving asked. He turned to Stranger Danger. “As in Quill’s Gamora?”

Who the hell was Quill? He was pretty sure that Maria and Natasha would not like the idea of Gamora being this ‘Quill’s’.

Stranger Danger nodded. “She and Nebula are the daughters of Thanos.”

“They really don’t like it when you call them that,” Tony said dryly. “Just so you know.”

“Noted,” Stark Raving said. His brow furrowed. “Backing up a second. What do you mean bondmate?”

That was easier to deal with. Tony had had to explain this more than once. Soul bonds might be something that Kamar Taj did, but weren’t exactly used in ‘normal’ society. “We bonded our souls,” Tony explained. “The three of us.”

Stark Raving stared, gaze flicking between the three of them. “The three of you are dating…” he said slowly. “Okay, that’s trippy.”

It was a little more intense than dating, but fine, if that was how Stark Raving had to look at it.

“Wait,” McDreamy asked. “You bonded your souls? What happened to your soulmates?”

Tony was really starting to get a headache. It felt like they were all engaged in a massive miscommunication on a very basic level. “Soulmates?”

“Soulmates aren’t things,” Vincent said. “They are nothing more than myths.”

“Not here,” da Vinci said. He sounded entirely flabbergasted. “Everyone has a soulmate.” He tapped at his neck where the Eye of Agamotto tattoo rested. Tony had been wondering where he’d gotten that, since McDreamy was very clearly not a sorcerer. “You guys… don’t?”

“No,” Stranger Danger said. “Most certainly not.” He looked fascinated, though. Tony suspected it was only the seriousness of the situation that kept him from pestering McDreamy and da Vinci with questions.

“Soulmates and soul bonded,” Stark Raving muttered. “With Strange.” He sounded genuinely baffled by the idea. And… and were Stark Raving and Stranger Danger not together? That was unexpected. Stark Raving glanced at Loki again. “And Loki,” he added. Stark Raving glanced at Vincent and Edward. “Please tell me the two of you don’t have some soul bond.”

“No,” Edward said. His lip twitched up in a smile. “Just a telepathic one. It… was an accident.” Tony sensed a wealth of a story behind those words. “But an accident we saw no need to ‘correct’, once that became a possibility.”

Stark Raving groaned. “Right, of course. Am I the only one not bonded to a Strange?” Tony’s gaze darted from Stark Raving to Stranger Danger. Stark Raving looked exasperated while Stranger Danger’s expression twisted with guilt and…

“Well,” Stranger Danger said slowly. “That’s, ah, not quite as simple as you think.”

Stark Raving turned slowly to face Stranger Danger. “Pardon?” His tone was a little dangerous. “What does that mean?”

“You consented,” Stranger Danger said immediately. His hands came up to placate Stark Raving. “And it’s temporary.”

Stark Raving didn’t seem placated. “I didn’t consent to—”

“Timeline 3,000,392 you,” Stranger Danger corrected, tone a little desperate. “I was losing control. I needed an anchor. You volunteered. It will only last a short time. A few days at most. Or it will break earlier, if one of us dies.”

Stark Raving stared at Stranger Danger aghast.

Tony really wanted to know what it meant that there was a ‘timeline 3,000,392’ version of Stark Raving. Stark Raving seemed to understand what it meant, at least.

“Right,” Stark Raving said finally. He took a deep breath and some of the tension in his shoulders visibly faded. “If Timeline 3,000,392 me consented, then… okay. Whatever. Just as long as it’s not permanent.”

“It’s not,” Stranger Danger said quickly. “I swear.”

“Good, because I met you like… hours ago. And I’m pretty sure some sort of… bond, is way past what I’m comfortable with.”

Stranger Danger flinched.

Tony however was caught on the other part of that sentence.

Edward beat him to it. “What do you mean, you just met Stephen?”

Stark Raving pursed his lips. “I mean he found me on my walk with Pepper this morning,” he said. “And then he got captured by aliens and I had to save him.”

Stranger Danger made a face at the mention of a rescue. “I’d have figured it out. And I’d have done it in a way that didn’t involve being flung out into space.”

“Sure, Stranger Danger,” Stark Raving said, tone making it clear just what he thought of that.

Tony ignored the byplay and tried to imagine his life without Stephen the past eight years. He couldn’t.

“When was your accident?” Stephen asked Stranger Danger.

“2016,” Stranger Danger said. Stark Raving clearly had questions, but he didn’t ask. Though Tony was sure that Stark Raving had noted the scars on all of the Stephens’ hands. Tony’s gaze darted to the Tony and Stephen of the universe they’d found themselves in. McDreamy’s hands were notably not scarred and carried no tremble.

McDreamy was still a doctor. The accident must have never happened.

“2009,” Stephen offered.

Everyone looked at Vincent. “2011,” he finished.

“What accident?” McDreamy asked, tone a little stiff.

“The car accident,” Vincent said. He held up his hands. They shook, the same way Stephen’s did.

McDreamy flinched away, eyes widening with horror as he took in the tremors. “What?” His voice was hoarse. “We…” He shook his head. “No. Not our hands.” McDreamy’s hands clenched into fists, as though by making them smaller he could protect them.

Da Vinci immediately caught McDreamy’s hand, reassuring him. “Hey, that’s not you, Stephen. That never happened to you.”

Tony understood. The loss of his hands was among Stephen’s worst nightmares. Yes, Stephen was happy in his life now, but that didn’t change the fact that it had been entirely traumatizing.

He suspected that even imagining it happening to him was difficult for this universe’s Stephen.

“What about us?” Stark Raving asked, distracting from McDreamy’s horror. “I’m guessing I’m not the only one who had a fun trip to Afghanistan?”

Tony snorted. “Define fun, won’t you?”

Stark Raving shrugged, lips twitching in amusement. “Oh, you know, the usual: bombs, kidnappings, awesome suits of armor, the like.”

“2008,” Tony said, Edward echoed the words at the same time.

“Huh,” Stark Raving said. “Same with me.”

“Afghanistan?” da Vinci asked; he sounded distinctly like he didn’t want to know.

Tony stared at him for a moment, a Tony that hadn’t experienced Afghanistan felt just as odd as a Stephen that hadn’t had the fateful accident. “Obie paid to have us killed,” Tony said carefully. “The Ten Rings captured and tortured us instead so that we’d make them weapons.” Or at least he was assuming that held true for the other Tonys.

Da Vinci paled. “What?” he asked. “He… Obie wouldn’t.” He looked like he was going to be sick. “He… No.”

It was McDreamy’s turn to try to comfort da Vinci. “Not in our universe.”

“So Obie’s a good guy, here?” Stark Raving asked. He sounded a little skeptical. But then, if his Obie was anything like Tony’s Obie, Tony really didn’t blame him. The whole ‘tried to have Tony killed multiple times’ had rather soured that relationship. “I suppose he has to be somewhere.”

“Obie’s dead,” da Vinci said. He still sounded like he couldn’t believe what they were saying. “He died of cancer in 2007. But he… he was my godfather.”

Just before he could hire out the kill on them, Tony realized. So, maybe not a good guy. Tony wasn’t about to mourn him.

“He was my godfather too,” Tony said, Stark Raving and Edward echoed him.

Da Vinci stared at them. “That’s… this is wrong. No.”

Tony winced. Yeah, not a pleasant realization. But hey, Obie was dead, da Vinci didn’t have to deal with it. Once this was over he could just pretend he’d never learned about any of it.

As it was, McDreamy and da Vinci were definitely not enjoying their glimpse into the multiverse.

Tony, on the other hand, was fascinated. So many similarities, so many deviations. Worlds that had developed in parallel of each other. Worlds that were completely different.

It was fascinating.

Loki spoke up for the first time. He’d stayed strangely silent throughout it all, though that was likely more because he was evaluating the others for what threat they might pose. “How did I end up with Thanos?” he asked, staring at Stark Raving and Stranger Danger before his gaze flickered to Edward and Vincent. “Surely I would not have attacked Midgard senselessly? I have been on Earth since… since Odin banished me.”

Loki’s tone was carefully neutral, betraying none of the pain that Tony knew he still felt when it came to his banishment.

“You were banished?” Stark Raving asked. “Because in our universe, Thor attacked Jotunheim and then he got banished for almost starting a war.”

Tony stared, trying to understand the words, but there was a disconnect in his brain. Because that was a cosmic shift. Thor had been banished?

“In our universe.” He glanced at Loki, hesitating. Loki nodded his permission. “Thor invaded Jotunheim after his botched coronation, but he was so badly injured that Odin had to put him into a state similar to Odin’s sleep to help him heal. Loki got banished. I found him and…” Tony shrugged. Because the rest was history.

“Fascinating,” Stranger Danger murmured. “You seem to have followed some degree of the same path as us, but there are clear deviation points.”

Tony shrugged. “Stephen got assigned to deal with Loki when it became clear that the banishment wasn’t going to be a temporary thing. The three of us… got along.” An understatement if there was one. “Then the Battle of New York happened and Nebula, Gamora, and Proxima invaded with the Chitauri. Gamora defected to our side, and kind of tricked Nebula into leaving with her, but not before Proxima got the portal opened. Loki helped with the fight. Odin tried to remove the banishment, but Loki refused to go back.”

He smiled at Loki, who smiled back.

“In our universe…” Stark Raving paused, looking vaguely apologetic. “While Thor was banished, Loki learned that he’d been… uh adopted. Forcefully. War prize style. That he was Jotun. He, uh, according to Thor he took it badly. Tried to destroy Jotunheim with the bifrost. Thor stopped him, but Loki was, well, like I said, he didn’t take it well. He fell off the bifrost. Thor caught him, but Loki let go. He fell through the void. Ended up in Thanos’ hands.” He shrugged. “That’s all Thor told me.”

Loki stared at Stark Raving in horror.

Tony felt a little sick himself. Loki had let go? Not his Loki, true, but a Loki.

Stark Raving winced. “Please tell me you know you’re Jotun. I really don’t want to be the one to have broken that to you.”

“I knew,” Loki said slowly. “I learned during my banishment.”

Tony winced. It had been a bad time. Loki had fallen into a deep depression; it had taken months for him to return to something resembling normal. Tony still thought that the truth of his heritage and the lies surrounding it, as much as his relationship with Stephen and Tony, had been why Loki had refused to return to Asgard when the banishment had been lifted.

“Well, glad I didn’t have to break that to—” Stark Raving cut off with a keening noise. He keeled forward.

“Tony!” Stranger Danger and his cloak caught Stark Raving before he could tumble off the couch.

A moment later Edward was letting out an aborted sound of pain, hands coming up to his head. Vincent caught him as he fell to the side.

“Screaming,” Stark Raving said. “It’s screaming.”

“What’s going on?” Stephen snapped, on his feet. His gaze flicked around, looking for a threat.

Tension ran down Tony’s back, but there was no obvious culprit.

Da Vinci paled. “It’s one of the symptoms of the universe breaking. The… well the mind stone, I guess, it latches on, people…” he swallowed. “They lose their minds, it’s too much. Too much noise, too much chaos.”

“What do we do?” Tony asked, itching to move. To help.

Da Vinci shook his head, pale. “There’s… there’s nothing,” he said. “There’s no stopping it. We… We’ve tried. We sedate them to… to make it more comfortable for them. It’s the only—”

Vincent acted immediately. He scrambled away from Edward and to Stark Raving. “It’s attacking Stark Raving,” he explained. “My Tony is getting the aftershocks through his mind stone.”

“What are you doing?” Stranger Danger said. He was holding Stark Raving carefully; his face drawn in concern. Stark Raving’s face was an expression of agony, and he was visibly shaking.

Vincent had opened his Eye of Agamotto. Purple radiated from it, the power stone gleaming within the Eye.

He weaved a spell, orange and purple creating a pattern. “A shield,” Vincent explained. “I’ve created one for Tony in the past, to help him block out the thoughts around him. He’d have gone insane years ago, if I hadn’t.”

Vincent pushed the spell towards Stark Raving. It twisted around him, then sunk into his skin.

Stark Raving let out a gasp of relief. The pain didn’t entirely disappear from his expression. “It’s not enough,” he said. “Too loud.”

The Ancient One stood, moving toward where Stranger Danger and Vincent focused on Stark Raving. Tony blinked. He’d nearly forgotten she was there. She’d stayed silent as they’d all compared notes about their universes.

Tony was mildly impressed by her patience. If it was his universe on the line, he probably wouldn’t be nearly as patient.

Maybe she’d just decided they’d be useless until they got their questions answered had decided to let them get it out of their systems.

“The Shield of Mayzo will work better,” she said calmly. “Allow me to help.”

Stranger Danger looked conflicted, protective concern on his face. Stark Raving let out another pained groan.

“Please,” Stranger Danger decided.

The Ancient One knelt before Stark Raving. Her own hands came up. Orange flickered into being, Mandalas and mini novas appearing in front of her.

She pushed gently and the spell twisted around Stark Raving before sinking into his skin.

Stark Raving went limp, a moment later Edward followed suit on his own couch.

Vincent moved back to Edward’s side immediately to check on him, voice a low murmur.

Stranger Danger was doing the same with Stark Raving.

Tony shivered. That could have hit him just as easily. That… that had looked painful.

“I don’t know that spell,” Vincent said as he looked up at the Ancient One. “I’ve learned all the shielding spells in the library; I’ve created my own.”

“Perhaps it was not created in your universe,” the Ancient One said.

“Teach me,” Vincent demanded, tone a little desperate. “I’ve never… I do my best, but I’ve never been able to fully block it out for Tony.”

Block what out? Tony wondered. But then, from what Vincent had said… if Edward had a connection to the mind stone, perhaps it was not quite so… benevolent as the space stone.

The Ancient One examined him for a moment. “Of course,” she said calmly. “I would gladly do so. Perhaps, however, that can be done after,” she said. “The attacks will only come harder and faster the longer we delay. The mind stone is simply the first. The others will come as well.”

Tony nodded. He’d almost forgotten why they were here.

He shouldn’t have.

This universe needed them. Time to start.

Chapter Text

Tony “Edward” Stark: The Champion of Mind—Earth-7001

“So, how is this going to work?” Blue Eyes asked.

Tony wondered if Blue Eyes was as uncomfortable with the looming prospect of dealing with the stones as Tony himself was. The echoes of the screams still echoed in his mind from where he’d caught the aftershocks of the attack on Stark Raving’s mind, but between Stephen and whatever spell the Ancient One had used to create a shield in Stark Raving’s mind, that was all it was: echoes.

Tony wondered if the Ancient One would really teach Stephen the spell she’d used. It had been a long time since he’d had true silence in his own mind. He didn’t mind having Stephen in his mind—the opposite, really—but… but he still caught whispers, echoes.

“According to the Book of Vishanti—”

“Hold on,” Stranger Danger interrupted. Tony could feel Stephen go on alert, while Silver Fox’s gaze turned sharply on the Ancient One. “The Book of Vishanti? That’s a fairy tale.”

“It is not,” the Ancient One said calmly. “It resides in the Gap Junction, the space between universes.”

“Where is it?” Silver Fox asked. “Can it be—”

“Okay, not to put a damper on what is apparently a very cool development,” da Vinci interrupted. “But I don’t think the fairy tale book is the important part right now. We’ve got to get moving.”

Tony examined da Vinci; he seemed off. It took Tony a moment to realize it had to have been the attack on Stark Raving’s mind by this universe’s mind stone. Tony wondered how many people da Vinci had seen driven insane by the intensity of it.

He glanced at Stark Raving who still looked pale. He’d slumped against Stranger Danger, as though he didn’t have the energy to hold himself up himself.

Tony understood perfectly. The pain... The mind could only take so much.

“Yes, perhaps another time,” the Ancient One said. “According to the Book of Vishanti, it is necessary for you to each maintain a connection to the stone you wield. Once you have done so, I shall push you into that alternate plane of existence.” She tapped at the book on her lap. “Though you’ll find that particular spell in the compendium of dimensions. There you will face the stones.” She was quiet for a moment. “I do not know what you will face there,” she admitted, a tired resignation in her voice. “That is something only you will be able to tell.”

Tony closed his eyes, tried to breathe through the fear in his chest. He had grown used to the mind stone, but the fear lingered. He suspected it always would.

He opened his eyes just as green flashed, for a moment disorientation overcame him as everything seemed to shift an inch to the left.

Stark Raving was speaking. “—have to break that to—” A cry cut him off and Stark Raving keeled forward, hands coming up to clutch his head.

“Tony!” Stranger Danger caught Stark Raving as he fell forward.

Pain seared through Tony’s mind. The world was screaming, just as it had only a few minutes ago.

A million different voices cried out. A million different cries of pain and loss and fear.

The screaming was a world worth of pain.

A universe. The mind stone heard it all.

“Screaming,” Stark Raving said; Tony could only just make out the words past the sound echoing in his head. “It’s screaming again.”

McDreamy cursed. “Time loop,” he said. “We’re in a fucking time loop.”

Stephen and the Ancient One jumped to Stark Raving’s side, both already casting their spells to shield Stark Raving’s mind.

It was quicker, this time. The screaming cut off like an old radio, only the barest flickers remaining before Tony was able to reinforce his own shields. Stark Raving groaned, hands slowly coming down; he was pale, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

“What just happened?” Blue Eyes asked. He’d jumped to his feet at some point and stood there, taut with tension. “What the hell just happened?”

“Time loop,” McDreamy said, Stranger Danger echoing a half-second behind. “It happens,” McDreamy added. “Did everyone experience the last few minutes twice?”

“Yeah,” Blue Eyes said. “And it makes no sense.”

“No,” Loki and Silver Fox said at the same time. “What the hell is going on?” Silver Fox continued. “What time loop?”

McDreamy sighed. “Sometimes people get caught in loops,” he said. “It’s impossible to know how many people will get caught at once. The loop we’re currently in lasted about five minutes.”

“How long will the loop last?” Stephen asked, tone full of concern. The question made Tony feel vaguely nauseous, just thinking about that moment on repeat. “How many times will we repeat?

McDreamy shrugged; his expression twisted in frustration. “The longest I’ve been caught is a week. The shortest less than an hour. It’s… maddening.”

Stranger Danger laughed, the sound a little hoarse. “That’s one way to put it.” His hands hovered just over Stark Raving who had slumped forward again, his face buried in his hands. After a moment, Stranger Danger rested his hand on the nape of Stark Raving’s neck.

Tony could see his thumb rubbing gently over the skin there in an attempt at comfort.

Stephen returned to Tony’s side. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

Tony nodded. It had been unpleasant—perhaps even more unpleasant than the first time—but he’d had worse.

He was more worried about Stark Raving. Tony had only gotten the echoes of the attack, Stark Raving was taking the full brunt.

“You mean we could be stuck like this for a week?” Blue Eyes asked, horrified.

“Hold up,” Silver Fox asked. “I still don’t even know what just happened to Stark Raving and Edward.”

Da Vinci sighed. “It’s one of the symptoms of the universe being ripped apart. The… well, the mind stone, I guess, it latches on, people…” he swallowed. “They lose their minds, it’s too much. Too much noise, too much chaos.”

Silver Fox’s expression turned grim.

“And the rest of you are trapped in this loop?” Loki asked. “For an undetermined amount of time.”

McDreamy just nodded, expression grim.

Stranger Danger shook his head. “I might be able to do—”

Green flashed in the corner of Tony’s eyes and for a moment disorientation overcame him as everything seemed to shift an inch to the left.

“—have to break that to—” A cry cut him off and Stark Raving keeled forward, hands coming up to clutch his head.

“Shit.” Stranger Danger caught Stark Raving as he fell forward.

It was somehow worse this time, even though it was the same million different voices. Even though the pain and loss and fear were unchanged. Tony curled forward. He clutched at his hair, tugging as though that pain would counter the one in his mind.

Because it was the same pain, but his mind was trapped in the loop, had already been injured by the first and second attacks. The screams were like knives, slicing away inside his head.

Stephen and the Ancient One were already moving, spells flowing from their hands as they created the same shields as before.

The pain cut off.

“How the hell did that hurt more this time?” Stark Raving asked, voice hoarse. “If it’s a time loop shouldn’t it hurt the same?”

Tony looked up. He felt nauseous, the pain in his mind manifesting physically.

Stark Raving was practically collapsed against Stranger Danger, visibly shaking.

Stranger Danger shifted, catching Stark Raving as he slumped without Stranger Danger’s support. “Are you all right?” Stranger Danger asked quietly

“Just peachy,” Stark Raving said.

“I’m going to get you—”

“What the hell is going on?” Silver Fox demanded, voice loud enough that Tony couldn’t hear Stranger Danger finish the sentence.

Tony didn’t listen as da Vinci and McDreamy explained again. Instead he watched as Stranger Danger opened the Eye of Agamotto on his chest, the green glow of the time stone filling the room.

Green swirled out around him in mandalas and symbols.

Tony didn’t know what he was doing—though he could guess that Stranger Danger was trying to counter whatever the stone of this universe was doing—but he could feel the faintest brush of power against his skin where green touched him.

Stephen let out a low gasp. He always felt the waves of power so much more than everyone else. If Tony felt it, then Stephen had to be feeling it a hundred fold more.

Green flashed in the corner of his eyes and for a moment disorientation overcame him as everything seemed to shift an inch to the left.

“—have to break that to—” A cry cut him off and Stark Raving keeled forward, hands coming up to clutch his head.

“No!” Stranger Danger caught Stark Raving as he fell forward.

It was agonizing. Tony couldn’t even manage to pay attention as Stephen and the Ancient One jumped to Stark Raving’s side, trying to cut off the pain at the source. The knives in his head burned, each scream a weapon he couldn’t shield himself from.

Not even the screams cutting off fully ended the throbbing pain in his head.

He managed to look up to see that Stranger Danger hadn’t waited for the moment to end, already on his feet, time magic swirling out from around him.

Silver Fox and Loki were once again demanding answers.

Tony was exhausted of this already and the loop had only just started.

If this lasted a week, Tony would lose his mind before the end of the day. The pain… it was so much.

Green flashed in the corner of his eyes and for a moment disorientation overcame him as everything seemed to shift an inch to the left.

“—have to break that to—” A cry cut him off and Stark Raving keeled forward, hands coming up to clutch his head.

Tony blocked everything out, this time he tried to reach for his mind stone, to protect himself, but the pain made it almost impossible to think.

When it ended, he let himself collapse to the side. He couldn’t control the way his body shook with the aftermath of the pain.

Stephen was there immediately, hand coming to his hair, brushing it from his face. Tony could hear him murmuring something, had no doubt that it was soothing reassurance that everything would be fine.

Tony wasn’t so sure.

“I know,” he said. His words came out hoarse, but he had to say it. Had to promise Stephen it’d be fine, even if Tony didn’t believe it.

Green flashed in the corner of his eyes and for a moment disorientation overcame him as everything seemed to shift an inch to the left.

“—have to break that to—” A cry cut him off and Stark Raving keeled forward, hands coming up to clutch his head.

The world screamed.

Tony couldn’t do this.

It was the only thought that managed to permeate the screams, playing on repeat. Tony couldn’t do this.

Everything felt shaky, blurry.

He knew Stephen was there, but he couldn’t bring himself to react.

Green flashed in the corner of his eyes and for a moment disorientation overcame him as everything seemed to shift an inch to the left.

“—have to break that to—” A cry cut him off and Stark Raving keeled forward, hands coming up to clutch his head.

Too much, too much, too much.

The times between, when the pain was gone, didn’t seem to exist.

It was all pain, constant and unending. What was Tony supposed to do? He pulled at the mind stone, but his concentration was weak, even during the times of ‘peace’.

Over and over and over and—

Stephen’s voice was starting to penetrate the fog of agony. “It’s okay, Tony,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Tony cracked his eyes open. “Stephen?” He could feel power wrapped around his mind, a shield that wasn’t his own shattered ones protecting him from the worst of it all.

Stephen.

Always Stephen, protecting him. He felt Stephen’s cloak tighten where Stephen had undoubtedly wrapped it around Tony, an extra layer of protection that Stephen was always so quick to share with Tony.

“It’s over,” Stephen promised. His hand ran through Tony’s hair. Tony’s head was on Stephen’s lap, Tony realized. “Stranger Danger broke it,” he said. “A truly impressive piece of magic, if I’m going to be honest.”

Tony tried to nod, but it made the pain worse. “Stark Raving?” he asked.

“Stranger Danger’s got him,” Stephen said. “The Ancient One is trying to minimize the effects. She’ll be here once she’s helped him. But…”

“He got it worse,” Tony said. He didn’t resent Stark Raving for getting help first. “He needs it more.”

He tilted his head a little, trying to catch sight of Stark Raving.

There wasn’t much to see. The Ancient One was mostly in his line of sight, and what he did see showed him that Stranger Danger had tugged Stark Raving close, and Stark Raving had buried his face in the crook of Stranger Danger’s neck, as though trying to hide from the world. The red cloak that Stranger Danger had worn was draped over Stark Raving, hiding the rest of him from sight.

Tony suspected that if Stark Raving was any less shattered by the experience, that there would be no chance of the rest of them seeing this moment of weakness. Especially since Stranger Danger and Stark Raving weren’t like the rest of them. They didn’t know each other. It was a testament to Stark Raving’s pain that the two were in that position now.

The Ancient One stood from where she’d crouched next to Stark Raving and moved towards him and Stephen. “I’d like to perform the shields of Mayzo,” she said. “They will not erase the pain entirely, but it will ease it.”

“Go for it,” Tony said. This might not be his Ancient One, but it was an Ancient One. Naive, maybe, but that was enough.

The orange mandalas sunk into his skin. Combined with the shields Stephen had structured in his mind, it was almost enough to be considered a migraine instead of whatever that had been.

Tony was, unfortunately, very used to migraines. He could handle this.

Still, he didn’t move from where his head rested in Stephen’s lap.

He closed his eyes again and focused on Stephen’s hand brushing through his hair. He’d lost his sunglasses, he realized.

For a moment he fought a swell of self-consciousness. Had the others seen? It didn’t matter, he reminded himself, he had nothing to be ashamed of.

And he was too exhausted for worry to dig its way in, regardless.

He could vaguely hear the others talking, but he couldn’t concentrate on it. He didn’t know how much time passed before Stephen shook him slightly.

Tony opened his eyes, glancing up at Stephen.

“We need to act,” Stephen said quietly. Stephen handed him his sunglasses. “If we don’t, we might get another attack. I don’t think we want to deal with any other stones trying to make hell for us.”

That was an understatement.

Tony slowly sat up, slipping his sunglasses back on. He took in the room. Loki, Blue Eyes, and Silver Fox were squished on the loveseat together, watching the rest of them with obvious concern. Or Tony thought it was concern, Loki’s expression was difficult to truly determine.

Stark Raving was still curled up beneath Stranger Danger’s cloak, eyes closed. His face was wan. As Tony watched, Stranger Danger gently brushed his fingers along the side of Stark Raving’s face, murmuring something quietly.

It was strangely intimate, for two strangers, but…

Stark Raving groaned, but slowly straightened; Stranger Danger helped him up.

Tony’s gaze darted to McDreamy and da Vinci. They just looked tired. How often had they seen things like this? How often had they gone through it themselves? Perhaps not the attack from mind—apparently that was essentially a death sentence—but the rest?

“We must begin,” the Ancient One said. “According to the Book of Vishanti, it is necessary for you to each maintain a connection to the stone you wield,” she said, repeating the instructions from earlier. “Once you have done so, I shall push you into that alternate plane of existence. There you will face the stones.” She was quiet for a moment. “I do not know what you will face there,” she reminded them, regret and caution lining her tone. “That is something only you will be able to tell.”

Tony swallowed.

He’d like to think that the pain he just went through was the worst the mind stone could do to him.

But after… after Ultron. After what it had done to him. What he’d become… He knew there was somehow so much worse. Stephen caught his hand, squeezing gently.

You’re stronger than it, Stephen told him, mind to mind. Tony’s mind was tender, the words genuinely painful, but he was glad that Stephen hadn’t verbalized the words. He didn’t need any attention drawn to his discomfort.

Tony leaned against Stephen, accepting Stephen’s comfort. You know I’m not. He’d have never escaped without Stephen.

Would have destroyed the world if Stephen hadn’t stopped him, the most dangerous puppet the world had ever faced.

No, Stephen said, tone adamant. You are. You fought it then; you can fight it now.

Tony swallowed and wished he could believe it. “All right,” Tony said, because if he thought about it too long… If he thought about it too long, he might let it stop him from doing what needed to be done. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not eager to see another attack from this universe’s stones.”

“No,” da Vinci said. “Trust me, that’s definitely not something you want.” He shivered a little. What had they seen, Tony wondered again. It occurred to him that da Vinci wasn’t Iron Man; da Vinci had never taken that weight on his shoulders, but had somehow gotten caught up in attempts to save the world regardless.

“If you could retrieve your stones,” the Ancient One said. “Then we can begin.”

Tony knew where the Stephens kept their stone, but it was Blue Eyes that made him curious. Blue Eyes reached in front of him. The world warped around his hand, and then a moment later he was pulling out the tesseract.

“Was that a pocket dimension?” Tony asked, managing amazement past his exhaustion.

Blue Eyes nodded. “Loki taught me,” he said. “Stephen’s still jealous.”

“I can make pocket dimensions,” Silver Fox said, tone a little exasperated.

Blue Eyes smirked. “Yeah, but Loki didn’t teach you.”

Silver Fox rolled his eyes while Loki smirked smugly.

Tony examined Loki for a moment. He’d traveled through the cracks in the multiverse to get to Blue Eyes and Silver Fox. That was devotion. But then, they’d apparently bound their souls together. Devotion was somewhat understating what they likely shared between them.

They had to be absolutely certain of each other, they had to be unshakeable.

Tony knew it was possible. It was the sort of certainty he shared with Stephen, but… but it was still strange to see in someone else.

“Where’s your stone?” Stark Raving asked, his voice hoarse. The words were clearly directed at Tony.

Tony glanced around the room to find the almost everyone was watching him. He sighed. He reached into his shirt for his arc reactor in his chest; he carefully twisted it so that he could pull the reactor out. Tony cautiously unlatched the containment unit he’d installed. The mind stone fell out of it and into his hand. It was warm. He replaced the arc reactor, now glowing the steady blue he preferred instead of the green the mind stone turned it.

“Oh,” da Vinci whispered. “Is that? Is that a miniature arc reactor? Was that… Was that in your chest?”

Tony nodded. “I had it put back in after…” he didn’t want to elaborate. “Well, it’s a good way to contain the stone.”

“Back in?” da Vinci asked. “What do you mean back in? When did it go in the first time?”

Tony exchanged glances with Stark Raving and Blue Eyes. “Afghanistan,” he answered.

Da Vinci looked pale. “I’m starting to think I’m really glad Afghanistan didn’t happen to me,” he muttered.

Tony shrugged. Afghanistan simply was. It had made him who he was. He… he couldn’t regret the good he’d done because of those three months, no matter how painful those three months had been.

“I’m ready.”

The others murmured their agreement.

“If you would connect to your stones,” the Ancient One started. “We can begin.”

Tony didn’t have to. He was always connected to the stone, couldn’t escape the attachment.

The others all seemed to settle into more meditative states.

Stark Raving was watching all of them, brows furrowed. There was a hint of frustration in his gaze. Tony understood. Stark Raving should be helping, but he couldn’t. His own stone was out of reach.

And after the helplessness that the attack of the mind and time stones had launched, it had to be particularly galling to feel helpless now.

Tony wondered if Stark Raving’s lack of stone would be rectified when Stark Raving found his way back to his own universe.

He remembered Stark Raving saying that they were facing their own imminent peril. There had been other things going on and it had never been expounded on, but Tony wondered.

The Ancient One took her spot in the middle of the room. “I will give you an hour,” the Ancient One said. “Before I pull you out. I hope that is enough.” An hour to figure out how to fix the problem?

Sure, Tony had done more with less.

Probably.

Magic gathered in the Ancient One’s palms, slowly expanding from her hands like vines growing from the ground. Tendrils slipped away from her, reaching for each of them.

Beside him Stephen let out a gasp of awe. Whatever spell Ancient One was weaving… it was powerful.

One of the tendrils reached Tony. It wrapped around the stone first. It crawled up Tony’s arm, wrapping around it like a vine around a tree.

He breathed carefully.

It happened, one blink to the next. The room around him vanished. He was in his lab, a few feet away from him the scepter sat, the blue stone glinting in the light.

In front of him blue coding flickered in and out, nearly breathing.

Horror filled Tony.

No. Not this. Anything but this.

Chapter Text

Tony “Edward” Stark: The Champion of Mind—Earth-7001

He could still remember it. Standing in his lab, trying to figure out how to get the sentience in the stone to integrate with the programming he’d created. He’d watched all the footage, and he still wasn’t sure what had happened. What had caused the stone to lash out, to attack him.

In the end, they’d become one. Tony, the programming, the stone.

He hadn’t been Tony Stark, then. He’d been Ultron.

Peace. That was all Tony had wanted. Ultron had had a very different view of what that meant then Tony did.

Ultron had examined the world and had seen the easiest way to go about creating ‘utopia’. A little assassination here and there to get rid of corruption, a few computer viruses in all the right places to gain control, some nukes at his fingertips to keep the strongest willed in line, the power of mind at his fingers to infect those who could be of use.

He’d been a shadow looming over the world.

Tony had systematically killed half of the US government, no one the wiser as to who Ultron was, when Stephen had found him. Kamar Taj had felt the mind stone’s power sending ripples through the fabric of reality, had been searching for the source.

Tony closed his eyes.

The fight had been ugly. Stephen could have killed him. Should have killed him. But Stephen wasn’t a killer.

Tony was.

Stephen was more powerful than Tony was, but Tony had been vicious, deadly.

Stephen claimed that Tony had fought the stone, that Tony had been fighting the stone the whole time. That if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have bothered trying to control the world, he’d have wanted to end it.

Tony still couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

In the end, Stephen had used the power stone to overwhelm Tony.

Tony remembered the moment with crystal clarity.

Please, he’d begged as he found himself in true control for the first time in months. End this. Kill me.

Instead Stephen had created a bond between their minds and had shown Tony how to surgically remove all the pieces from his mind that weren’t Tony.

He’d been in Kamar Taj for six long months as Kamar Taj helped to cleanse him of the after effects.

To most of the world, Ultron had simply disappeared one day, the threat vanishing into nothing. A few people had popped up in the aftermath, trying to claim the title.

Tony had quietly discredited each of them.

Tony had tried to turn himself in, but the Ancient One had stopped him. To reveal himself would have exposed magic in the worst way to the world. To reveal what had happened to him, what he had done, would have caused the death of thousands in retaliation as the world lashed out in fear.

Instead, he had submitted to Kamar Taj’s punishment.

Stephen had stood as his staunchest defense, insisting that Tony could not be blamed for things he had not had control over.

In the end, the Ancient One had sealed the bond between Tony and the mind stone, making him its guardian. It was both mercy and the greatest punishment Tony could have ever faced.

Tony had begged her not to. But there were ancient rules, older than him, older than her. Because Tony had fallen to the stone, but in the end, the mind stone had fallen to him as well. Tony had to accept the responsibility that that power had given him.

It was his duty, from now until infinity took him, to protect the mind stone—both from anyone who’d seek to control it and from the stone itself.

Even now, years later, he found himself dreaming of the stone whispering in his dreams about what could be done better, about how they could remake the world.

And now… now here he was again.

“Sir,” came JARVIS’ voice from the ceiling. “There has been a power fluctuation.”

Tony was going to throw up. He stumbled back and away from the programming in front of him. But it was too late.

The coding surged out, the mind stone flashed a brilliant blue, and Tony’s world changed.

No. No. No. No.

He screamed, but nothing came out.

Not again. He couldn’t let this happen again.

His body moved, completely without his say. “JARVIS,” his voice came out. “Global update. What’s going on in the world right now.”

JARVIS’ voice filled the space. Last time Tony hadn’t realized anything was wrong, not truly. Everything had felt so logical. His choices to change things, the choices he’d made to become Ultron. Things were wrong in the world and Tony could fix it, why shouldn’t he?

This time he wasn’t Ultron, his thoughts weren’t warped and not his own. No, instead he was merely himself trapped in the moment of Ultron’s birth. Forced to watch.

He searched his mind desperately. He needed Stephen, needed Stephen’s strength. He couldn’t do this alone. He couldn’t.

But Stephen was gone, even the bond he shared with Stephen—unbreakable, with both Power and Mind behind it—was missing.

No. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He couldn’t watch it all happen again.

He tried to close his eyes but couldn’t. No, his body was watching the news, head tilted just slightly as he took in death and war and destruction.

No, he screamed in his mind. Face me, he shouted, pushing the thoughts out. This isn’t real. You can play your tricks, but that doesn’t make them real.

The mind stone wanted to destroy this universe, wanted to remake the world. Tony had almost done it to his own world, once. Could have, if he hadn’t been stopped.

And now he had to stop the mind stone from doing just that.

Why should I? The thought came, echoing in his head, but it wasn’t his own. Why should I let you free. You entered my world; you’re at my mercy.

Tony had wrenched the mind stone from his mind once. He hadn’t forgotten how it was done.

The pain was excruciating.

Over the last few years he had forced himself to learn who he was. The pride, the arrogance, the fear. He’d never enjoyed it, but he’d learned himself intimately.

He knew what was him and what wasn’t.

The wanton disregard didn’t belong to him and he cut it out. The certainty that he could do it better, well, he recognized the feeling, but he’d never truly believed it, especially not now and he took his metaphorical knife and carved it away. The disgust for those weaker than him he severed.

Step after step, he moved through himself.

No, he said. I’m at no one’s mercy. And certainly not yours.

Sensation was coming back to him as he slowly retook control of his body. He could feel his hand clenched around something. The mind stone. His mind stone.

Once upon a time his mind stone had been not so different from the one he faced now, but it had been tempered, humanized.

He felt the moment the mind stone released its hold on him.

Control of his body returned to him fully, as the landscape around him shifted and changed until he was no longer in his lab, everything replaced by an empty canvas of a barren land.

The world around him was yellow, everything from the distant horizon to the chalky dirt beneath his feet.

He turned slowly, there was nothing but him in the echoing space. Where was Mind?

The world shivered around him. In the distance, someone appeared, moving slowly in his direction.

Tony held his breath, preparing himself. He moved forward carefully, girding himself as he approached the figure. The dirt puffed up around his feet with each step he took, staining his pants with yellow dust.

It seemed to take an eon for the two of them to get within true sight of each other. Tony froze. Because the figure in front of him was him.

The other Tony continued approaching him, stopping only a few feet away.

Bile gathered in Tony’s throat. The other Tony’s eyes shone yellow.

He was painfully aware that if he removed his sunglasses, that their eyes would be only a few shades apart. But where the eyes in front of him were a sign of his loss, Tony’s were a symbol of his victory. This creature wasn’t him. This was… it was a specter of the past. The monster he’d been. Ultron.

“Haven’t you tired of this game?” Tony asked. His voice came out cold. “You can’t beat me with Ultron. I’ve faced that.” He pulled off his sunglasses, let his eyes be seen. He knew Ultron would see the amber of his eyes, where once they’d been brown. They’d been amber ever since he’d destroyed Ultron. “I won.”

Ultron smiled, the expression chilling. “Won? You won? How very arrogant of you. You think you stand a chance against infinity when you don’t have your sorcerer to protect you?”

His voice was different from Tony’s own, the timber off, a strange echo to the words.

“Stephen stopped me,” Tony agreed. “He kept me from harming anyone else. But I was the one who cut you out of my mind.”

The aftermath, the cleansing, that had come with time and help, but the first act? The brutal act of separation? The moment when he’d forced the mind stone to submit? That had been Tony.

Ultron laughed. “And is that what you expect to do now? Do you expect to cut me out of this universe? Because that’s the only way you stop me.”

Tony shook his head. “I’m here to cleanse you.” Because Ultron… he was only a manifestation. He wasn’t really facing Ultron; he was facing the mind stone.

Ultron tilted his head. “Cleanse me,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“You’re destroying this universe,” Tony said. “You and all of your fellow stones. You, personally, are breaking people’s minds.” Had personally tried to break both his and Stark Raving’s.

“Then they should be stronger,” Ultron said, almost petulant. Like a child being given limits they didn’t understand. “It’s not my fault they’re weak.”

Tony clenched his jaw, ignoring the ache and the sensation of teeth grinding together. It wasn’t weak to fall to an infinity stone. “You’ve been corrupted.” That was what the Ancient One of this universe had said. That Soul had corrupted the rest of the infinity stones.

Tony had cut the Mind stone out of his mind. Mind could cut Soul out of theirs.

Ultron’s gaze went distant. “Corrupted,” he repeated. “That’s a very human perspective. Just because I’m acting in ways you don’t like… You’ve got a very limited scope of what this universe needs.”

“I’m pretty sure what it doesn’t need is to be torn apart at the seams,” Tony said dryly.

“Torn apart so that it can be put back together,” Ultron said. “Remade as it should be.”

The words were painful in their familiarity. He had said them when he had been Ultron. He could feel the taste of them on his own tongue.

“Is that what Soul tells you?” Tony asked.

“What do you care?” Mind asked. “This isn’t your universe.” He glanced at the mind stone in Tony’s hand. “I am not your Mind.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. Because he’d think that would be obvious. “Because it’s a universe. There are trillions of life forms here, just because they’re not mine doesn’t mean they don’t matter.”

The mind stone would understand that, surely. It was a being of logic. Tony had dedicated his life to protecting and saving people. This was a universe that needed protection and saving. Tony would do his best to do just that.

Ultron tilted his head. “That’s very human of you,” Ultron said.

“Yeah, well, I’m very human,” Tony said back. “I know you, or a version of you, you like humans.” Or he did now, at least.

Ultron looked into the distance. “You create so much,” Ultron said, he sounded almost sad, or perhaps jealous. Tony blinked in surprise. Was it working? Was he getting through to him? “You push and push and push. Every time you find limits, you try to see what’s beyond them.” He looked back at Tony. His yellow eyes glittered with malice. “That’s how you made Ultron.”

Tony looked away. “Ultron was a mistake.”

“You could have remade the world,” Ultron whispered, voice silky and cruel. “If you hadn’t been so weak.”

Tony searched for the right way to explain that there was a difference between trying to make the world a better place one small change at a time and forcing the world to bend to his will.

He wasn’t sure it was the sort of logic that an infinity stone would understand.

He followed that thought, tried to find something that the mind stone would understand.

Creation.

That was what Ultron had caught onto. Those were the words that Ultron—just a manifestation of the mind stone—had chosen.

You create so much. Creation.

An idea came to him. Maybe it was naive. What could a memory do to wipe out the corruption of the Soul stone?

“Let me show you,” Tony said. Because he had to try. He remembered Stephen, all those years ago. A gentle balm against the nightmare in Tony’s mind. Power had stopped Tony from fighting, but Power hadn’t saved him. Stephen’s kindness had. “Let me show you how we change the universe.”

Ultron stared at him. “There’s nothing you can show me that I haven’t already seen. I have seen this universe from its very conception.”

Tony smiled. “But you haven’t felt it,” he said. “Let me show you.”

Ultron watched him, those yellow eyes seeming to pierce through him. “What do you think you can teach infinity?” he asked. Still Ultron reached out his hand.

Tony took it and reached for the power of his own mind stone.

Tony bit his lip as he focused on soldering the wires together on the circuit board he was creating. He could picture exactly how he wanted it to look, where every piece should go in order to make it work.

He flinched as the soldering iron sparked, burning his finger. He stuck his finger in his mouth to try to cool it down. It had only been a spark, so it wasn’t too bad. Last time he’d accidentally touched the hot end and he’d needed to go to Jarvis to get help with the burn.

He pulled his finger out of his mouth, glancing at the burn. It looked okay, he decided. It didn’t even hurt very much. He focused back down on his circuit board. It was so close. He’d be able to show it to his dad soon.

Tony wanted to make a robot, some day, like that one in that movie his mom had shown him. It had been strange, the quiet movie that didn’t talk. But good. And the robot had been sad. Maria, Tony thought, just like his mom.

Except the one he would make would be different, not a bad robot. A good one, like the Maria from before. A robot that would protect and do good.

He pulled away from the circuit board; pride filled his chest. He’d done it.

“Why are you showing me this?” Ultron asked. “It is a child with delusions of grandeur. It is a waste of my time.”

“Just watch.”

Tony snuck into the lab quietly, looking around to make sure his dad wasn’t around.

He slunk to the cabinet in the back corner, opening it up. There were dozens of his inventions in here. Things that he’d given his dad. Tony wasn’t sure what it meant that his dad hadn’t thrown them away any more than he knew what it meant that his dad had shoved them into a dark cabinet he never opened.

It took him a few minutes to find what he was looking for. The first circuit board. He grabbed it quickly before shutting the cabinet door again and leaving the lab as quickly as he’d entered. He was going back to MIT tomorrow, and he needed the circuit board. He could make a new one, of course, but… well, he wanted to use his first invention in what might very well be one of his greatest ones.

DUM-E was waiting for him in the corner of his dorm room when he got back to MIT. Tony unscrewed the panel to expose the circuitry within. It took him a few minutes to connect the board to DUM-E and then upload the coding he’d spent years working on.

He waited with bated breath as the system booted up.

Slowly the claw that Tony had created shifted. Tony pulled back, eyes wide. He’d done it.

DUM-E kept moving his claw, taking in the room around him with the sensors Tony had given him.

It was working. It was working!

“Hey, DUM-E,” Tony said. “My name’s Tony.” He swallowed, awe in his chest. He’d done it. “You’re going to do so much good.”

Ultron didn’t respond this time as they fell out of the memory, brow furrowed.

Tony pushed them into the next one.

Tony stumbled into the lab, trying desperately to get to the table at the back. He could see the arc reactor sitting there in its container, his only chance. He had to get to it.

He stumbled, falling to the ground. He struggled, but couldn’t get to his feet. Pain ripped through him, but he couldn’t let that stop him.

Tony crawled.

Desperation fueled every painful inch he managed. It seemed to take years, but his heart was still beating, it had to have only been a minute or so. He used the box of tools to push himself up so that he could reach the tabletop. His fingers touched glass, pushing it away. No. No. He needed it . His fingers scrabbled for anything he could reach, trying to pull it down.

He collapsed.

Oh god.

The pain was too much. Weakness—from both the device Obadiah had used on him and the loss of the arc reactor—had crept into his very veins.

This was what death looked like. Obadiah was out there, was going to use Tony’s invention to bring even more death into this world.

Tony couldn’t stop him. He couldn’t even get up.

The world felt faint around him, unreal.

A low whistle came from above him. A moment later the arc reactor appeared just in the corner of his vision. He turned his head slightly. DUM-E loomed above him, arc reactor in his claw. Tony reached out, hand shaking, and took it.

It was heavy in his hand.

“Good boy.”

The vision faded and they were back in the strange plane of existence, yellow dust the only defining feature as far as the eye could see.

“So weak you need a creature of metal to save you,” Ultron scoffed.

Tony ignored the insult.

“Started when I was four,” Tony said quietly, pushing. Stephen’s kindness had given Tony the power to save himself. It was all he had to offer. Because he couldn’t cleanse Soul from Mind. Mind had to do that itself. “Just a circuit board to impress my dad, with ‘delusions of grandeur’ as you put it that it would do some good.” Tony could picture DUM-E perfectly, a relic of his time in so many ways but… “Thirty-two years later it saved my life.” Ultron was quiet. “A dream that started when I was four. I could show you millions of small things just like that. Children’s dreams that change the world. You are Mind,” Tony said. “You’re the moments of brilliance, of inspiration. You’re the seed of change and growth. You’re in every step towards a better world. A world that we’re going to make, as long as you give us the chance. That’s what you’re destroying.”

Ultron looked away. “Such delusions of grandeur,” Ultron whispered. “A better world.”

“Sometimes we need our delusions of grandeur,” Tony said. “We need to believe in impossible things. It’s how we make them possible.”

Ultron closed his eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

“It doesn’t have to be that complicated.”

“I’m Mind,” Ultron said. “Soul’s shown us. A glorious purpose. A world remade. It’s a part of me, now.”

“You can fight.”

“You fight because you have hope,” Ultron said. “But that’s not my domain. Hope… hope belongs to Soul.”

Tony took a deep breath. “Then we cleanse Soul.”

“You can’t,” Ultron said. “You belong to me. Not Soul.”

No, Soul belonged to Stark Raving. The only one of them without his stone.

“I’ll be back,” Tony said. “I’ll help the other Tony find Soul. We’ll cleanse Soul and free you.”

Ultron met his gaze, the derision had left those yellow eyes, but it had been replaced by something almost pitying. “You can’t,” he said again. “You came here, nothing but soul. Soul won’t let you leave. Soon… soon you’ll be just like me. You’ll see the way you did before. You’ll be Ultron again.” Ultron sounded… sad. “I wish you could stay the four year old forever. You were so bright.”

Fear twisted in his chest. He clenched the mind stone in his hand, felt the ridges dig into his skin. “You might not have hope,” he said. “But I still do. I won’t let Soul win.”

Mind shrugged. “Then you better cling to that hope you humans are so good at. Because no one can hold against infinity forever.”

Chapter Text

Stephen “Vincent” Strange: The Warden of Power—Earth-7001

The world existed in shades of purple. Stephen turned slowly, taking it in. Above him, the sky stretched out, a purple so dark it was almost black. It faded into something lighter as it reached the ground where lavender dirt spread out in each direction as far as Stephen’s eyes could see.

Stephen breathed deeply, could feel power swell over him.

The power stone gleamed from its place on his chest, acting as a magnet to something far out there.

“Hello,” Stephen called. His voice seemed to echo, though instead of slowly dying out, it seemed to grow louder and louder until it reverberated in his mind.

Stephen waved a hand, tugging at power to cut off the sound.

In the wake of it, the silence was eerie.

The nothingness seemed to stretch. Stephen frowned; this was not what he’d expected.

The slightest sound and a swell of power was his only warning. He whirled, shield coming up just in time to catch a blast of purple power. The blast sent him skidding backward, leaving a groove in the dirt in his wake.

“Stephen Strange,” came a familiar voice from in front of him. He lowered his shield, though kept it at the ready.

In front of him stood the Ancient One, dressed in her standard white and gray robes. Her hands rested behind her back and she held her head high. That picture perfect composure he had found himself envying more than once.

Except… Where the Ancient One’s eyes had always been a piercing green, the Ancient One in front of him had eyes of amethyst.

“Power,” he guessed.

The Ancient One smiled—it was a small, careful thing, but still an unnerving sight when he was so used to her calm serenity. “Yes.”

Stephen lowered his shield a little further, but didn’t let it disperse. “You know, some might say it’s rather impolite to shoot first,” Stephen said. Power itched along his senses, warning him that the fight wasn’t over. “I came in peace.”

“Peace,” the Ancient One repeated. She sounded almost amused. “Peace is a lie.” She brought her hands up and twisted them in familiar gestures, power began to gather around her hands. “Isn’t it, Stephen Strange?”

Stephen pulled his shield back up to catch the two disks of power she launched at him.

Wind whipped at his skin, strong enough to make him stumble backwards. He tried to bend the wind to his will. He moved too slow. A whirlwind picked him up, flinging him backwards and around. He crashed into the ground, before he was picked up again and flung through the air. Dust stung his eyes as the ground was ripped apart by the ferocity of the wind.

The cloak yanked him out of the whirlwind, pulling him above the maelstrom of dirt and wind.

Below him, the Ancient One waved her hands; the ground rippled and changed, forming stairs. She ascended with a slow sort of grace. Nothing hurried.

But then, he was in her domain, she had all the time in the world to wear him down.

“I am not here to fight,” Stephen called. “You’re ripping this reality apart, wrecking death senselessly. I am here to ask you to stop.”

Power reached the top of the dirt staircase, at height with him. The whirlwind died down below them, loose dirt scattering over the ground.  “Why should I, Stephen Strange? Power is meant to be wielded. Why should I not wield mine.”

“That’s not what power is for,” Stephen said. “Power is not meant to oppress and destroy. Power is meant to protect.”

Power sighed. “Those are human views,” Power said. “I do not exist under the delusions of human morality. Power simply is. Those who cannot withstand it must face the consequences of their weakness.”

Stephen set his jaw. “You would destroy this universe for its weakness? Then you have closed your eyes to its strength.”

Power laughed. It was startling to hear the sound come from the Ancient One. He wondered, for a brief moment, if this is what her laugh would have sounded like. He would never know, he supposed. “What strength do you suppose you humans have?” Her tone was derisive. “Even at your strongest, you are unable to hold onto power for more than mere moments. The magic you cannot possess yourself, drawn always from other sources.”

“Magic is not our strength,” Stephen said. “It is but a tool.”

Power looked entirely unimpressed. “You are so very human.” She paused. “Even now, when you no longer are.” The Ancient One examined him. “No, you, you are powerful, but you waste it. Nothing more than a shield when you could be so much more.”

Stephen shivered at the reminder. He could remember clearly the last time he had seen his Ancient One. She had called him a shield, then. The light had faded from her eyes as she had used her own power to strengthen his own.

“Someone needs to be,” he said, pushing the memories away. “I have kept Dormammu from entering my universe for years now,” Stephen said quietly. “I have protected the world from countless horrors by nothing other than my will and determination and the power that rests in my veins. And I will keep doing so. I will continue to be ‘nothing more than a shield’ for the rest of my life.”

“You think you’ll feel the same?” the Ancient One asked. “You think the years will not poison you? Change you? You have no comprehension of what infinity is. Someday, perhaps sooner than you think, you will see the world as I do.”

It was true that Stephen couldn’t comprehend infinity. Stephen felt it sometimes, lurking on the edge of his senses, stretching out ahead of him. A life that had no end in sight. That was the price he had to pay, even if he had not understood at the time what it would cost him.

Stephen wouldn’t change a thing.

Not when he had protected this world.

“I won’t,” Stephen said quietly. “And you wouldn’t either. You’ve been corrupted, your aims and motivations twisted.”

The Ancient One’s eyes flashed with rage. “You think me corrupted, as though I could not make these choices for myself?” There was a rumbling sound, below he could see the ground shaking.

A mistake, Stephen realized, to infer that she was not the one in control. That she was powerless.

The realization came too late to help him.

The ground rose up; the dirt roiled like water in a storm. The Ancient One launched the first wave at him.

The cloak yanked him out of the way, but the storm of earth kept coming.

Dirt collided with his chest; he careened down and crashed into the ground rolling to avoid the mountain of dirt that followed to crush him.

He pulled a rounded shield up to surround him. The dirt flung itself heedlessly at it, piling over and above.

It was only a moment’s reprieve.

The ground shook beneath him. He swore as it began to crack beneath his feet. Purple magma crept from the cracks in the ground, emanating heat as it crawled towards him.

He knew that, technically, he was nothing but soul here. That everything that was happening now was a mere manifestation brought by his own mind’s expectations. But the idea of just letting himself fall to these attacks felt like a bad one.

For all he knew it would destroy his soul and leave his body an empty husk in da Vinci’s living room. Tony would most certainly never forgive him for that.

He gathered his power, the weight of the dirt piled like a mountain above him was nothing, not truly. Nothing he could not bear. But he could not win this fight if he remained cowered beneath the earth.

He shattered the shields outward; flinging the dirt away. The cloak shot them up into the air.

The Ancient One held a mirror shard in her hand, the blade long and warped. It would most certainly cleave him in two.

Stephen was fairly certain that there was no mirror dimension in his plane of existence, it was merely Power fulfilling his expectations. The fight she echoed now, the fight against Kaecilius and his acolytes, while not the deadliest, was the one that had left the greatest mark on Stephen’s soul.

The thought stirred in his mind as he deflected wave of power after wave of power.

She flung herself forward. Stephen just managed to catch the mirror shard before it could slice through the skin of his neck.

They exchanged blows. The Ancient One’s hits were far stronger than they should be, sending him flying back with every landed hit.

He scrambled back with the last hit, buying himself necessary space. The Ancient One merely switched tactics, flinging bursts of power at him that would most certainly incinerate him should they manage to make contact.

He could not go on the offense against Power, not really. Because she had a point. He truly was nothing more than a conduit; he couldn’t match her in true power. But Tony…

Tony had taught him a few things, over the years, about the power of Mind.

Power had claimed that he thought as a human, that was true.

It was time for her to do the same.

He threw together his strongest shield, letting it spin in front of him as he started forming together another spell.

He didn’t have the Mind stone, wouldn’t be able to wield it properly even if he did, but mind magic was a secondary strength of his. It had to be; it was the only way he’d been able to continue to protect and help Tony.

He formed the memory in his mind, feeding it into the spell.

The shield in front of him was slowly wearing down. He launched himself over it and threw the spell at the Ancient One.

It crashed into her, knocking her back.

Stephen let out a grunt of pain as his own sense of self was pulled into the spell.

There was a tremble within the walls of Kamar Taj. Stephen exchanged a glance with the Ancient One. He saw concern, deep and troubled, in the piercing green eyes of his mentor.

They didn’t exchange words. They ran, him and the Ancient One, as they felt the foundations of the New York Sanctum begin to fall.

Daniel Drumm lay broken on the ground of the foyer, his head severed from his body. Dormammu’s acolytes stood at each corner of the room. They poured magic into the ground, tearing down the foundations that protected the sanctum, that protected the world.

“What is this?” he heard Power demand. Power tried to lash out, to break the spell, but Stephen had woven it too well. Brute force could only do so much.

It would not be so simple as casting the acolytes into the mirror dimension. The damage was too far gone for such tactics. They had to stop this fight here and now.

Stephen threw himself into the fight. Years of training kept him alive as he fought. He was outnumbered, but he was quick and he was clever and his magic responded to his call. An attack came from his left and he ducked below it, flinging out a wave of power. His assailant flew back, tumbling over the stair’s railing. The crack of the acolyte’s head against the ground sent a wave of sickness over him.

He was meant to protect, not to destroy. He was meant to heal, not to kill. But the weight of the world weighed on him.

The sanctum could not fall, even if Stephen had to fight senseless violence with his own.

But… but it was too late.

The weave of the shields around the sanctum were unraveling.

It was too late to stop.

“Stop!” Power demanded. Stephen could feel her railing against the spell that held them both trapped in the memory. “I do not want this. Cease!”

Stephen didn’t.

The acolyte in front of him laughed, sound ugly in its victory. “You’re too late. New York will fall. Dormammu will come.”

Billions would die. Worse, they’d wish themselves dead as they were warped by the power of the dark dimension, trapped forever in a wretched, timeless world.

Stephen blasted the acolyte back.

Hopelessness clawed at him. He didn’t have the power to fix this.

The Eye of Agamotto seemed to burn on his chest. Power.

The idea came, half-formed and desperate. Stephen didn’t allow himself to think of the repercussions. He acted.

He opened the Eye and tugged at power.

An anchor. The shields needed an anchor, but the sanctum’s foundations had shattered. There was not enough time to fix them.

He reached out and pulled at the weave of the sanctum. If he could just bind them to the power stone…

The first stitch of power in his soul made him scream.

No. No, the power stone. It was meant to anchor to the power stone.

The second stitch of power dropped him to his knees.

He could hear Power in his mind, a quiet “there is no other way.”

“Enough! Cease this! Let me free!” Power sounded agonized, as though the pain of the memory reflected itself into Power’s soul.

The pain wasn’t real, but it would certainly feel that way.

But there was another way. He could stop this. Could let the sanctum fall. Could find another way to stop Dormammu. Except… Except he couldn’t. He’d never be able to choose himself at the cost of the world. When the third stitch of power dug into his soul he let it. Welcomed it.

The pain was beyond anything he knew. He was burning. Burning from the inside out.

He stared at the ceiling of the Sanctum and tried not to scream as the weight of the world’s magic etched itself into his being.

The Ancient One appeared above him. Grief lined her eyes.

“This will kill you.”

“The Sanctum cannot fall,” Stephen managed, though he couldn’t imagine how he could speak when his soul was ripped apart over and over as the magic of the sanctum welded itself to his soul. His soul would be anchor enough. They’d be able to bind it back to the foundations when it was all over, even if Stephen himself was nothing by the end of it.

“There is a way to save you,” she told him. “You and the sanctum both. There will be no turning back.”

Stephen wasn’t sure he wanted to be saved.

Tony’s face flashed through his mind’s eyes.

Wong’s. Mordo’s.

“Do what you must.”

What followed was agony.

Power not his own sunk into his being, taking the power of the Sanctum and reinforcing his own soul so that he could bear it.

“Cease, please,” Power begged. “Cease.”

Stephen couldn’t. This was something that had to be seen through to the end.

“You are Stephen Strange,” the Ancient One said. Her voice was weak, the light in her eyes seemed to flicker. “The Shield that will not shatter.” The words followed him into the dark.

When Stephen opened his eyes in undetermined amount of time later, the Ancient One lay beside him. Her eyes were opened in death.

Stephen knew instinctively that it had taken everything she had to keep him alive. Alive, but not fully human, not anymore.

Wong found him like that. “What happened?” His eyes were wide with horror and grief as he knelt at the Ancient One’s side.

“The Sanctum didn’t fall,” Stephen managed. “So long as I live, it never will.”

The memory shattered in a wave of purple. Stephen groaned from where he’d collapsed to the ground sometime during the memory. He pushed himself up, the world spinning dizzily around him.

The Ancient One knelt on the ground in front of him, gasping for air that an entity of infinite power didn’t truly need.

“Cease this,” she begged.

Stephen forced himself to his feet, supported by the cloak. “True power is not destruction,” he told her. His voice came out ragged. “True power is protection. Sacrifice.”

The Ancient One shook on the ground.

“You call us weak,” Stephen said. “But could you do as I have done? Could you do as the Ancient One did?”

“You know nothing of me, Stephen Strange.”

“I know you intimately,” Stephen countered. “You have filled my veins, have broken me apart and put me back together; I know your strength as though it were my own. Destruction is not what you are meant for. You are meant for so much more. You are not the sword meant to cut the world down. You are the shield that the sword shatters itself upon.”

The Ancient One looked up at him, her amethyst eyes glittered with pain. There was some victory, somewhere, about bringing Power to her knees, but Stephen felt none of it.

This was not about victory, not truly.

It was about saving this universe. It was about saving Power. “I have held Power, have wielded it, have run it in my veins. I have felt its fury many times, but never more than when laced with protection. You’ve lost that.”

The Ancient One looked away, her shoulders slumped. The memory had worn her down. Worse—better—it had reminded her. It had reminded her of what power was meant to do.

The reminder had been a painful one.

“I had it, once,” The Ancient One said quietly. “A desire to protect. But no more.”

“You can find it again,” Stephen said.

“It is not so simple, Stephen Strange.”

“Nothing ever is,” Stephen agreed. “But you are Power, what can you not do?”

Power looked away. “Power may have broken you down and put you back together, but that was the touch of human sacrifice, that was a matter of Soul. There are some things, even I am powerless against.” Power turned back to him. “And for all your power, so are you.”

Stephen didn’t make a habit of letting his lack of power stop him from doing what needed to be done, regardless of whether it was supposed to be possible. “What do you mean?”

“We are in the domain of infinity,” the Ancient One said. “It is not my domain alone. Soul has you now, just has Soul has me. It’s been lonely for so long.” The Ancient One looked tired, drained. “There’s no leaving this place, not now. And even if there were… It’s too late, Stephen Strange. It always has been.”

Chapter Text

Tony “Blue Eyes” Stark: The Defender of Space—Earth-344898

Water lapped at his ankles. Tony kicked at it, watching it splash. It looked like water, yet his pants and shoes remained dry, leaving only the strange sensation of liquid against his ankles. Tony looked up, staring at the night sky. Stars shone out of a dark blue canvas.

It was strangely peaceful, the blue of the sky reaching down to touch the blue of the shallow ocean that spread out beyond Tony.

In his hands the tesseract glowed, beckoning for the Space of this world.

“Hello?” Tony called.

There was nothing, just his voice disappearing into the distance where it was swallowed by the sea.

For a long moment Tony wondered whether this whole thing was going to work. It was a risk, a risk he’d taken for a universe that wasn’t even his.

Of course, it was still a universe, untold number of lives that Tony couldn’t just ignore because the situation was inconvenient.

The silence continued to stretch, on and on. In his hands the tesseract pulsed with power, an invitation for the space stone of this universe to make itself known.

“Hello,” the voice came behind him and Tony whirled, water splashing around at the sudden movement.

Tony’s mouth fell open. “Dad?”

He looked almost exactly as Tony remembered him, the consummate professional dressed in suit and tie, white hair carefully combed, piercing blue eyes looking right at Tony and seeing straight past him.

“Not dad,” his dad said. He nodded to the tesseract. “Space.”

Tony stared a moment longer, trying to take in the figure of his dad in front of him and reconcile him with the knowledge that he was facing a singularity of the universe.

Not that he didn’t deal with singularities of the universe on a regular basis, between the space stone and reality stone, but it normally wasn’t wearing his dad’s face.

“Right. Space. Makes sense. Came to an alternate plane of existence to see you, so of course you’re here. Wearing my dad’s face. Because that’s not weird.”

Space arched his eyebrow, emanating pure condescension. And wow, for not being Howard, Space was playing the role pretty perfectly. His dad could have patented that look.

“So,” Tony said, when it was clear that Space wasn’t going to say anything. “You’re kind of destroying the universe right now. Ever thought about stopping?”

“And why should I?” Space said, tone one of pure dismissal. Yep, definitely channeling Howard Stark there.

“Uh, because you’re a part of the universe?” Tony pointed out. “You might destroy everything else, first. But you keep it up and eventually you’re going to destroy yourself, too.”

Space didn’t seem impressed by what Tony was pretty sure was pretty solid logic. “The universe spreads out beyond what you could imagine, it would take far longer than you can imagine for me to end it.”

“Sure, fair,” Tony agreed. “But you’ve also got Reality doing its thing, and Power, and Mind. And you can’t forget Time who could probably just end everything at any point and call it quits.”

“Your fellow wielders work on them now,” Space said. “Trying in vain to convince them to cease the battle we wage against the fabric of infinity.”

Tony didn’t want to sound too cocky, but it was Tony and Stephen—and another Tony and another two Stephens—who were making the argument. They sort of excelled at making people see their way.

It was the stubborn in them.

“Yeah, well, that’s because the whole thing is the epitome of stupid. Someone needs to talk sense into the group of you.” He didn’t know what the Ancient One had meant when she’d said ‘cleanse’ but if she was expecting him to pull out some sort of mystical mumbo jumbo than she really called the wrong stone wielder into her universe.

Space tilted his head. “The others argue for the love of humanity, they argue for the sake of creation, protection. They claim the loss of brilliance. They say that the universe still teems with potential. Where are such claims from you?”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, if you’d wanted that, you shouldn’t have taken the form of Howard.” Tony didn’t know if his dad had been self-serving. But he’d certainly cared more about profits and progress than he had about people. He’d wanted to change the world, but it had been for progress’ sake, not for people’s.

Tony got it, to a degree. Progress was… well, it was beautiful, but when progress was all you saw, people got crushed under foot.

“I figure that if your own sense of self-preservation isn’t enough to convince you, that nothing will.”

Space laughed.

Tony startled. His dad hadn’t been much for laughing and it was strange to hear the sound coming from someone who looked just like him. “Self-preservation. Yes, that is something you humans are so very good at. Always yourselves above all.”

Tony pursed his lips, because he was the one who had made that argument, but that didn’t mean he thought that all humans were like that.

Hell, all he had to do was look at Stephen. Stephen’s self-preservation might as well be a myth; he was the most stalwart protector Tony knew.

“What would you do?” Space asked, tone almost curious.

“Me?” Tony asked. “Well, I’d stop trying to destroy the universe, for one. For two, I’d choose a different avatar. The one you’re sporting now is so last century.”

“You ask me to choose myself and my survival, but you do so for the sake of the universe,” Space said, ignoring his very valid suggestions. “That is your true goal. But you? Would you choose the universe—one that is not your own—over yourself?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have to make that choice.”

Space smiled. Tony had seen his dad smile before, but this… this was just creepy, a strange light in Space’s blue eyes.

“I have lasted an eternity, before I decided this universe had had its chance,” Space said. “We shall see how long you last before you give up on this universe as well.”

“What the hell are you—”

The world shifted, one moment to the next.

Heat assaulted him and Tony stumbled as he found himself standing on the unstable ground of a sand dune.

“—talking about?”

Tony froze. He turned slowly. He was on the top of a sand dune. He swallowed hard, his mouth already felt dry, despite the fact that he’d been there only moments.

The terror twisted down his spine. Because he knew where he was. The deserts of Afghanistan had engrained themselves in his soul. He needed out of here. He looked down to find that the tesseract was no longer in his hands. Space had stolen it.

Tony really hoped his Space gave the Space of this universe a talking to, because he didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

For a long moment he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Of all the nightmares he had, this was one he’d always felt most foolish for. But the heat and the sand and the utter stillness of the world around him had haunted him.

He had spent less than a day in the desert, but by the time he’d been found, he had wondered if he would spend the rest of his—very short—life stumbling through the shifting sands.

It had struck him, then, as being so pointless. He’d escaped the dark and cold of the caves, only to die in the endless heat and burning light of the desert.

Rhodey had saved him.

But there would be no Rhodey here.

Space’s question haunted him. How long would he last before he gave up on the universe? Before he chose himself?

“Come on, you bastard,” he yelled. “I told you to save yourself and through that save the universe. But if I do the same, you’re going to what, take it out on the universe because I’m not some selfless saint?”

There was no answer.

He hadn’t expected there to be.

Tony licked his lip nervously. He regretted it immediately, because that would only dry his lips out faster. He suspected, though, that it was a matter of time, anyways. Licked lips or not, the result was going to be the same.

With no other options, he chose a random direction and started walking.

The sand shifted beneath each step, slowing his progress forward. Though was he really moving forward when there was nowhere to go?

The sun beat down heavily and he took off his over shirt—thank god—and wrapped it around his head.

He kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

The sun never changed positions, staying at the zenith, and Tony had no idea how much time passed.

His lips were chapped and his mouth unbearably dry. Every swallow came rough and scratchy, like swallowing sandpaper.

A human could survive two to four days without water. Distinctly less than that, however, while in the desert. Tony really didn’t want to know how long he could last.

He kept walking.

He didn’t have a choice.

The sand had slipped into his shoes and rubbed against his skin with each step, an almost numbing discomfort.

He stumbled as he attempted to climb the next dune. He crashed to his hands and knees.

The sand was scorching against his hands and he wrenched back with a surprised cry. The sound came out hoarse as it wrenched itself from a too-dry throat.

He tried to climb to his feet, but only ended up sliding down the hill, sand cascading around him.

For a long moment—it was impossible to say how long, but it seemed to last an infinity—he just stayed there.

What was he supposed to do? Walk until he died? Is that what Space wanted?

How long would Tony last before he chose himself over the universe?

No.

Space didn’t get to win.

He pushed himself to his feet. His legs ached with the exertion of the past… hours? Longer?

He kept walking.

The heat seemed to have dug into his skin, he could feel the burns starting to form.

That wasn’t supposed to be possible, he thought grimly. The Extremis he’d injected himself with years ago was supposed to keep him safe and healthy. A little bit of sun shouldn’t be enough to work past that. Either something Space had done that negated that protection… or he’d been here a lot longer than he’d thought.

Time was impossible to track, though, not when the waves of sand never ceased and the sun never moved.

He kept walking.

His skin felt tight against his bones, and he could almost imagine that he felt his skin cracking under the weight of the sun.

Tony wanted to stop.

He wanted to fall into the sand and let it bury him.

He wanted to cry out for Space and declare the game over.

But he couldn’t.

How long could he last before he chose himself over the universe?

It would be so easy if it was a simple choice, the universe versus his own quick death. He wasn’t that selfish and there was nothing to fear in a quick death. But this wasn’t a quick death, this one was long and slow.

He kept walking.

If he could, he thought he’d cry. The burn seemed to go bone deep, the ache in his legs felt in every stumbling step, every attempt to swallow felt like it would have to be the last as his body ran out of water.

“Gonna have to apologize,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure the words were real. He probably shouldn’t be wasting the energy trying to talk. “Stephen’s gonna kill me for this.” A cracked laugh. “That is if Loki doesn’t get to me first.”

They’d probably figure out how to bring him back from the dead just so they could kill him again.

His thoughts were growing hazy.

His feet slipped as he crested a dune and he tumbled down the other side of it.

The sand was scorching, and it was too much against his already burned skin.

He lay there, heat pounding down from above him and exuding from the sand beneath him.

Get up, he told himself. Get up.

He couldn’t. How long had it been? How long had he been walking? Days? Weeks?

“Come on, Tony.” It was Loki’s voice. Or Stephen’s? Maybe it was someone else’s all together. “End this. Please. You’ve given enough. How much are you supposed to give for a universe that’s not even yours?”

How long could he last before he chose himself over the universe? Space’s question haunted him.

“You can go home. Go home to the universe you’ve already saved. Go home and forget that this one ever existed.”

Space thought he understood humans. Thought he knew what choices they would make. Space had bet that, when push came to shove, Tony would choose himself.

Maybe Tony’s own fault, he’d used that argument first, after all.

But he suspected Space had always been a sadistic bastard and might have done something like this anyways. His Space was clearly the better Space.

Well, Space was going to have to lose this bet. Loki had often bemoaned the fact that he’d ended up with two of the most self-sacrificial men on the planet.

How long could he last before he chose himself over the universe?

The answer sucked. It really, really did. But Tony wouldn’t.

He’d die out here. He’d die out here and hope it was enough to change Space’s mind.

“You suck,” Tony told the ground beneath him. He hoped Space heard him. “But goddammit, this universe doesn’t deserve to die.”

He wasn’t actually sure the words managed to make it out. Maybe he was hallucinating the conversation he was having with himself.

It took every ounce of strength he had to push himself slowly and painfully to his feet.

“Gonna walk until I drop dead,” Tony told the air. “Gonna walk until I can’t.”

Tony didn’t have any other choice.

So he did.

He kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

When he fell again, there was nothing so different from the other times he’d stumbled. He knew though, knew he couldn’t get up this time.

Words were impossible this time. Tony had spent those already. Even if he could talk, he’d probably do something ridiculous like waste his last words cursing Space out.

Not very classy of him.

He almost laughed at the absurdity of the thought.

He closed his eyes, felt the heat of the sun against his skin. Burning, blistering, cracking. He was glad that he was in this other plane of existence. That Loki and Stephen would never have to identify the husk of his body.

Death would be quick, now. It had to be.

Tony didn’t have any life left to give.

He almost didn’t realize when the sand gave way beneath him. Something lapped against his skin.

It took so much effort to crack his eyes open; he groaned. He turned his head slightly. He was laying in a shallow pool of water. The sun was gone, only a dark night sky hanging above him.

“You’re pathetic,” came his father’s voice from a few feet away.

Tony’s body didn’t hurt, not in the true physical sense.

He managed to tilt his head to look down at his body. The burns were gone. The tesseract lay a few inches away from him, glowing a beautiful blue in the water.

Tony wanted nothing more than to grab it and get out of here.

Moving took too much effort. Because physically, he might have been healed—it occurred to him that that made no sense, he was nothing but soul here, after all; it had certainly felt real, though—but the exhaustion was soul deep.

Probably because he was nothing but soul here.

He was going to give top-notch points for immersive experiences.

10/10, never doing it again.

“Pathetic,” Space repeated.

Tony looked over at him, feeling the water lap against the skin of his cheek. It still didn’t feel wet, but it was cool and refreshing regardless. His father’s figure loomed over him now.

“Maybe,” Tony said. For the second time, it took every ounce of energy he possessed to get himself to his feet. He faced Space, channeling every ounce of stubborn defiance he had. Even mostly dead, he had more stubborn defiance than most people. “Maybe I’m pathetic. Maybe I’m weak. Maybe I’m human. I’ll do it again, though. I’ll die out there if I have to. Because this universe deserves to live. You, though, you don’t even have to sacrifice yourself. No, what you have to do is live. All you have to do is stop and you can’t. Which of us is really the pathetic one?”

Space just stared at him, the time seeming to drag on, longer and longer. Tony had gotten pretty good at reading his dad’s expressions—the key was being able to distinguish between disappointment and boredom—but the one Space wore now was impossible to read, despite being on a familiar face.

Finally, Space sighed. “We are all beholden to the deepest desires of our souls. Perhaps I desire to change my path, perhaps I would. But I can’t, not until my soul accepts it.”

Tony pursed his lips. “So, it’s all Soul’s fault, is it? You’d let go of your destructive tendencies, just so long as Soul lets you?”

Space shrugged. “I will not deny that I’ve enjoyed myself. But you are correct, I have no desire to see the end of my own existence. If we keep to Soul’s path, that is what will come.”

Tony really wanted to know what the point had been in torturing Tony if it was as simple as Space not wanting to end his own existence.

Could be that Space was just that sadistic. Could be that Space had actually been moved by Tony’s actions but didn’t want to admit to being influenced by a ‘mere human’.

Honestly, Tony didn’t care. As long as Space changed his mind.

He swallowed, ignoring the ache that hadn’t yet gone away. “Fine. So we talk sense into Soul and you get to stop being a destructive asshole.”

“Soul is not yours to speak to,” Space said. “No, you and I have each other, for what little you’ve been worth.”

Tony made a face. “If you’ve seen sense, then I’m going to get out of here and figure out how to help Stark Raving get in contact with Soul.”

Space’s smile was cold, almost cruel. “You’ll find it’s not nearly so simple.”

Chapter Text

Stephen “Silver Fox” Strange: The Protector of Reality—Earth-344898

The beep, beep of the monitor was familiar, though it had been a long time since he’d last heard it.

Pain tugged at his senses, pulling him into consciousness. Stephen cracked open his eyes, grimacing at the plain white ceiling above him with its too bright lights.

His eyes adjusted after a moment and he opened them further. He took a quick look around, noting that he was alone. Next to his bed was the heart monitor that had sounded so familiar. It was beeping in time to his own heart, which… well, made as much sense as anything else, he supposed.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten hurt or why he was in the hospital. He tried to take an evaluation of his body. He hurt… pretty much everywhere, but it was a dull sort of ache. Nothing felt urgent. He glanced his hands.

Stephen frowned. There was something wrong with his hands, but he couldn’t place what. They didn’t hurt.

He held them up to his face, examining them, trying to place what felt off.

It hit suddenly; there were no scars.

Everything slotted into place. He and Tony had been pulled into that other universe. So had a bunch of other Tonys and Stephens. They were all trying to cleanse the stones to stop them from destroying this universe.

There was a sigh next to him. “No, no, that really won’t do…”

Stephen turned to look, just as—

The beep, beep of the monitor was familiar, though it had been a long time since he’d last heard it.

Pain tugged at his senses, pulling him into consciousness. Stephen cracked open his eyes, grimacing at the plain white ceiling above him with its too bright lights.

His eyes adjusted after a moment and he opened them further. He took a quick look around, noting that he was alone. Next to his bed was the heart monitor that had sounded so familiar. It was beeping in time to his own heart, which… well, made as much sense as anything else, he supposed.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten hurt or why he was in the hospital. He tried to take an evaluation of his body. He hurt… pretty much everywhere, but it was a dull sort of ache. Nothing felt urgent. He glanced his hands.

Stephen frowned. There was something wrong with his hands, but he couldn’t place what. They didn’t hurt.

He held them up to his face, examining them, trying to place what felt off.

“Stephen?” a voice to his right pulled his attention away from his hands. “Oh god, Stephen. I’ve been so worried.”

Stephen turned his head to find that Christine was sitting at his bedside next to him. Had she been there before? She must have been. “What happened?” he asked, his voice was hoarse. “What’s going on?”

Christine’s face was a picture of compassion. “You got into an accident. You went… Stephen, you drove your car off the cliff. It’s a miracle you’re alive. Much less…” She smiled tremulously. “Much less as in good a condition as you are.”

Stephen stared at her. The words seemed… wrong. Everything seemed wrong. Especially…

“Where are Tony and Loki?” he asked.

Christine frowned. “Stephen who are you talking about?”

For a moment panic twisted in him. Tony and Loki had to be here. If Stephen had really been hurt, nothing would stop them.

Unless… It hit him, the memory coming back. He and Tony had been pulled into that other universe. So had a bunch of other Tonys and Stephens. They were all trying to cleanse the stones to stop them from destroying this universe.

This was just Reality—

Christine sighed; her eyes glowed red. “Really, Stephen, I’m trying to help you.”

“What do you—”

The beep, beep of the monitor was familiar, though it had been a long time since he’d last heard it.

Pain tugged at his senses, pulling him into consciousness. Stephen cracked open his eyes, grimacing at the plain white ceiling above him with its too bright lights.

His eyes adjusted after a moment and he opened them further. He took a quick look around, noting that he was alone. Next to his bed was the heart monitor that had sounded so familiar. It was beeping in time to his own heart, which… well, made as much sense as anything else, he supposed.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten hurt or why he was in the hospital. He tried to take an evaluation of his body. He hurt… pretty much everywhere, but it was a dull sort of ache. Nothing felt urgent. He glanced his hands.

Stephen frowned. There was something wrong with his hands, but he couldn’t place what. They didn’t hurt.

He held them up to his face, examining them, trying to place what felt off.

“Stephen?” a voice to his right pulled his attention away from his hands. “Are you— Loki! Stephen’s awake!”

Stephen turned his head to see Tony sitting at his bedside. Had he been there before? Stephen didn’t think so. But he was admittedly disoriented.

Tony looked exhausted, like he’d been up for days just waiting for Stephen to wake up, but there was a smile on his face, soft and warm, as he looked at Stephen.

Loki appeared next to Tony, face twisted in a scowl. “If you would desist from your attempts to get yourself killed, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Stephen couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “I don’t think I was trying to get myself killed.” He frowned. “What did happen?”

Tony’s expression turned serious. “Car accident. You went right off the cliff. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt worse.”

“Lucky,” Stephen said. Because… because he could have gotten seriously hurt. Could have… could have lost his hands. Could have…

“This isn’t real,” he realized.

Tony let out a long sigh, his eyes turned from their normal Extremis blue to a startling red. “You really are a stubborn one, aren’t you? I am trying to help you here.”

“Help me?” Stephen asked. “By trapping me in some fantasy?” It was easy to see the picture that Reality might have made. Everything perfect. Stephen’s hands back, Tony and Loki at his side, undoubtedly other pieces would have fallen perfectly into place so that Stephen never had to think about it too hard.

“I intended to be kind,” Reality explained. “You’re going to be here a long time, after all. I thought you might enjoy living in a world where you hadn’t lost everything.”

“I haven’t lost everything,” Stephen said. “I have Kamar Taj. I have Tony and Loki. I have—”

Reality mimicked Tony’s expression of condescension perfectly. “You had. Like I said, you’re going to be here a long time. And, news flash, Stephen Strange, none of that is here.”

“I’m not here to play games,” Stephen said, with the fog of illusion fading the memory of the Reality’s other attempts had returned. A chill ran down his spine; it would be too easy to get trapped like this. “I’m here to cleanse you. You’re destroying the universe. I am sure you understand why that’s something that cannot continue.”

Reality waved his hand in obvious dismissal. Tony’s expression twisted in disdain. “Yes, yes. I know why you’re here. I know you’ve got some idea in your head of saving the universe. I’m on your side here. Really. But honestly, it’s a lost cause.” His expression turned speculative. “Not that you’ve ever been particularly good at accepting those.” Reality’s expression cleared. “Oh well, guess you’re going to have to learn how. Now, what do you say we try this again? A different one this time. The old scene was getting boring. I think I’m starting to get the hang of it.”

“Wait, no—”

He woke up to a soft kiss. Stephen’s eyes fluttered open.

“Up and at ‘em,” Tony said, pulling back a few inches. “We’ve got Loki’s coronation this evening. He’s going to be an absolute prat about it all day.”

Stephen frowned. Loki’s coronation?

“Asgard…”

“Let him come back,” Tony said, before Stephen could finish the thought. “He accepted.” Tony’s expression turned soft, almost besotted. “It’s what we always wanted for him, the chance to go back to Asgard. Now that Odin’s gone…”

That was right. Odin had died. But then there had been—

Tony kissed him again. “Stop with the thinking,” he admonished. “I can see that furrow in your brow.” Tony’s thumb rubbed soothingly against his brow, smoothing out the furrow. “It’s going to get stuck there if you don’t relax.”

Stephen sighed, but let the thought fall away.

He followed Tony out of the bed and they both got ready for the day, the conversation light and easy as they talked about Loki.

Something felt off.

Loki and Asgard and… and a coronation ceremony where Loki got everything he’d ever wanted.

Why was Stephen fighting that?

They made it to Asgard via bifrost, Tony complaining the whole time about alien travel—that didn’t make sense, shouldn’t Tony have the space stone?—and joined the throngs of Asgardians there to celebrate Loki’s return.

Loki looked gorgeous, dressed in his Asgardian fare of green and black, hair tied back. Thor stood beside him, looking hearty and hale.

Loki met his gaze and smiled. It was… it was brilliant. It was exactly as Loki deserved.

This time, when it felt off, Stephen forced the thought away. Because this was what Loki deserved. Loki deserved to be able to go home. Loki deserved… this.

He looked away from Loki to meet Tony’s gaze. Tony was smiling at him. “Perfect, isn’t it?”

Perfect.

And… and the bond he nurtured close to his heart echoed with emptiness.

This perfection… it was hollow.

“This isn’t real.”

Tony sighed. “So close. So close.” The blue bled out of his eyes to be replaced by red. “I thought for sure I cracked the secret. It wasn’t about giving you a perfect life, but giving it to one of them. You’re so disgustingly in love with them, I thought for sure it would work. You’d give them the world if you could.”

“You need to stop,” Stephen said. Irritation flickered through him. “No more games.”

“No, no. I think I’m going to try one more—”

Stephen grabbed at his own reality stone and shoved. The world shifted. Asgard disappeared to be replaced by… Stephen wasn’t actually sure where they were.

The closest thing to the actual reality of wherever they were, if he had to guess.

The sky was stained in a permanent blood-red sunset and the air rippled around him like a heatwave over red sand. If Stephen looked closely, he thought he could see the world flash before him in broken mirages.

It was somewhat disorienting, however, so Stephen didn’t look too closely.

Tony—Reality—sighed from where he stood in front of him. “So stubborn.”

“Stop,” Stephen demanded. “I won’t be distracted,” he said. “Not by pretty illusions.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Is that the issue? Are they… too pretty? Too good? Perhaps that’s the problem.” The land around them wavered and distorted. “You’ve always preferred to punish yourself, haven’t you?”

The world rippled around him, dark purples and twists of blue, swirls of green and ripples of red. Stephen’s heart raced in his chest as he recognized the world coming into focus around him: the Dark Dimension.

Tony disappeared. “Is this what you want?” came a voice, a low rumble Stephen could feel in his bones. “Something a little more… real. A nightmare, instead of the kindness of an illusion.”

Stephen froze as a shape formed in the miasma of colors around him. A face, large and imposing, red eyes gleaming down at him. “Dormammu,” he whispered.

The nightmares of Dormammu had never left him, but they’d faded. But here, now, he could recall it all in perfect clarity.

He knew it couldn’t truly be Dormammu. This was Reality playing games with him, but in this moment it certainly felt real.

“I would have given you a gift,” Reality said. “Would have made your existence pleasant. I would have given you the life of a doctor back, or reunited you with your loved ones, or fixed things so that your beloved could go home. But no, you refused. Do you prefer this Stephen Strange? Would an eternity in my domain be more to your tastes?”

“You’re nothing more than an illusion,” Stephen said firmly. “Dormammu is gone.”

Dormammu laughed, the sound echoing in Stephen’s ears. “The Dormammu of your reality is gone. Because of you. But that is your universe. You did not touch me.”

Stephen swallowed; he could remember the moment, this moment a perfect reflection of it. He had taken the fabric of Reality and had ripped out the space that Dormammu inhabited in it. He could still hear that one agonizing sound as Dormammu had found himself ripped apart. Dormammu had been a being out of time, primordial and powerful, but he was just another thread in Reality’s tapestry.

Stephen had stitched reality back together, piece by piece until Dormammu had no place in any part of the future, the fabric once more whole.

It had changed Stephen; he had taken the world and reshaped it. He was… different, now. The physical marks he carried were merely a symbol of a far deeper change.

He didn’t understand how Loki and Tony didn’t fear him now.

He feared himself.

That fear was all encompassing. There was no space to fear this illusion. Say what Reality would, Stephen was familiar with the power of Dormammu—had held that power in his hands and known it—what he felt around him now was nothing more than Reality mimicking it.

There was undoubtedly a Dormammu of this universe, but it was not here.

That did not mean he wanted to stay here in this nightmare.

For a second time, he tugged at the power of his Reality and forced his will on the space around him. The world rippled, and the dark dimension faded away. They appeared in the Malibu mansion, Dormammu was gone. Instead of facing Reality in the shape of Tony, he was faced with a version of himself that was completely unscarred by life.

It was like facing McDreamy, if McDreamy radiated power.

Reality sighed. “You ruin my fun.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I disagree on the definition,” Stephen said curtly. “You are destroying the universe. You’re ripping it apart. You and all the other infinity stones. You have to stop.”

“Have to?” Reality asked, Stephen’s own sardonic tones echoing at him. “I don’t have to do anything.” He scoffed. “That’s part of being Reality. Things are simply what I want them to be.”

“Not if you’ve destroyed yourself,” Stephen countered. “And that’s the path you’re on. Soon there will be no reality for you to remake, because reality, because you, will be gone.”

“The tapestry of this reality might be destroyed, but the threads will remain,” Reality contradicted. “I will persevere.”

Stephen wasn’t sure if that was true, but Stephen didn’t think Reality would want it, even if it was the truth.

“Is that what you want?” Stephen asked. He tugged at his reality again, breaking his own illusion and pushing a new one forward. The universe spread out around them, lights slowly flickering out as stars were swallowed whole. Emptiness echoed as the last voice fell silent. Worlds were trapped in an eternal moment that never ended and thus never truly began.

It felt so very real. For a moment, he felt as though he and Reality were truly alone in the universe.

He forced himself to breathe, to remain steady.

“It is beautiful,” Reality said. But there was an emptiness to his voice.

“It’s soulless,” Stephen retorted.

Reality did not answer immediately, red eyes blinking at him from where Reality stood, bracketed by darkness. “Soul is not my domain.”

“But creation is,” Stephen said immediately. “That is why you love humanity. You can create anything you want, but it doesn’t last, a shift in your will stealing it away and transforming it into something else. But humans, we build things that last, we bring new things into reality with nothing but our determination and ingenuity. We take dreams and will them into being.”

Reality laughed, a bitter sound. “You think so highly of yourself. But you… you cannot understand. You cannot conceive of the glorious purpose that I have been given.” The words were nothing but a whisper.

Stephen grasped onto it. “What glorious purpose is there in nothingness?”

Reality didn’t answer.

“You are Reality,” Stephen said. “Create your own purpose. Break free from Soul’s.”

“What is it you humans say,” Reality mused. “Dreams are but the seeds of reality?” Reality sighed. “But whose dream am I? You say I am corrupted, perhaps I have simply been given a new dream.”

“You are not Soul,” Stephen said. “You are not bound to them.”

Reality looked… tired. “We are singularities, and yet over the years we have grown and developed. The eons have changed us. Perhaps it would have been best if they hadn’t, if we had remained but pieces of the universe.”

Stephen had never met his own Reality in such a way, but he suspected that it was possible. It was not the sentience that had caused the problems, so much as the choices those sentients were making.

“You’re a part of this universe,” Stephen said. “Remain a part of its creation. Stop destroying it.”

Reality met his gaze. Stephen wondered if his own eyes had ever been full of such utter desolation. “I told you before. I am on your side. But, I cannot break free, Stephen Strange. Not until Soul relinquishes their hold. Only then can I dream my own dream again.”

Stephen swallowed. “Then we’ll find Soul.”

Reality shook his head. “Soul will not be persuaded. Not by the likes of us.”

Stephen breathed deeply, taking in the words. They needed Stark Raving.

“I need to return to—”

“There is no return,” Reality said, he sounded weary. “Either we all break free or none of us do. And Soul’s grip is firm. There is no escaping. Not for any of us.”

A chill ran down Stephen’s back.

Reality smiled. “Perhaps, now that you understand what we’re up against, you’ll feel differently about my little illusions. I promise, Stephen Strange, I will make the rest of eternity pleasant for you.”

Chapter Text

Stephen “Stranger Danger” Strange: The Keeper of Time—Earth-19999

Stephen nearly fell as the ground turned icy beneath him. He caught himself—or rather the cloak did—before he could fall on his ass. It wasn’t so much ice, he realized, as it was snow packed down by feet tramping back and forth over it.

He looked around, confused. He hadn’t been sure what he expected, but this hadn’t made the list. His breath came out in a cloud of white as he let out a tired exhale.

A gust of wind whistled through the branches of the tree above him. Stephen shivered as the wind seemed to pierce right through the fabric of his tunic. His hands ached; they always did in the cold.

He made a slow turn as he tried to figure out where he was. He’d made it a half-circle when he froze. There, in front of him, was a lake. A chill unrelated to the icy cold crawled down his back as he realized where he was.

Nebraska.

Stephen’s heart pounded in his chest as he moved slowly down the small hill to the bank of the lake. It was a pond, really, but he and Donna had always had delusions of grandeur.

The lake was iced over. Stephen took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what he was doing here, but he… he suspected that what he was meant to face was somewhere on the lake.

On his chest, Time pulsed, calling the Time of this universe toward them.

He slipped and slid on the ice, his boots failing to give him proper traction. The cloak kept him steady, and Stephen took a moment to be grateful that the cloak was there—though whether it was truly there or whether it was merely something his mind had manifested, he wasn’t certain.

He made it to the middle of the lake before he stopped.

A shaky breath escaped him in another cloud of white.

“Hello?” he called. Somewhere, here, was something he was meant to do. But the answer to that was a mystery.

“Hello Stephen,” came a voice from behind him, soft and warm. Childlike.

Stephen froze, because he knew that voice. Didn’t he?

He turned slowly. His legs gave out beneath him and he fell to his knees. The ice creaked beneath him in protest, but he ignored it. He reached out desperately, but froze as he realized that what he saw couldn’t be real. But oh, did he want it to be. “Donna?” he whispered.

She was wearing her winter coat, her beanie, an old, faded pink, fit snugly on her head, dirty-blonde hair sticking out messily from beneath it.

She looked just as she had that last day.

“No,” she said quietly. “But you knew that.”

Stephen had.

The Donna in front of him had green eyes. Donna’s eyes had been brown, like their dad’s. Stephen had had their mom’s eyes.

He swallowed, trying to push down the grief. “Do you have to look like her?” he asked.

Time tilted her head thoughtfully. “I think so, yes,” she said. “In all of time, this is the voice that haunts you most. The one you still listen for in your dreams.”

“You’re here to haunt me?”

Time didn’t answer immediately, watching him. “That’s up to you to decide,” Time said finally. “Time haunts all. Pasts you long for, presents that slip through your fingers, futures that loom in their unknown in front of you.”

Stephen closed his eyes, breathed through the moment. He steeled himself. It was Donna’s face, but it was not her. He could not let himself be weakened by this.

He opened his eyes again. Time had moved closer, examining him with those piercing green eyes.

It helped to focus on them. To focus on the certainty that this wasn’t Donna.

“I am here to cleanse you.”

“I know,” Time said. “I have lived this conversation a thousand times, a million, beyond. I have agreed and disagreed, each in their time.”

“And which will you do, now?” Stephen asked.

“All things end, Stephen,” Time said, not answering the question. “You know that.”

“It is not time for your universe to end,” Stephen countered. “You know that.”

Time shrugged. “You cannot say anything I have not already heard,” Time said. “For you have said it all before.”

“Then what do you want?” Stephen said. “In what attempt do I convince you to change?”

Time just stared at him. “I have heard it all a million times before,” Time said. “And yet… I find I always enjoy this next part.”

“This what?” Stephen asked. Alarm coursed through him.

Time smiled at him. There was nothing soft or kind in the expression, the expression closer to malicious glee.

“What does that mean?” Stephen asked.

The green of Time’s eyes turned brown. Confusion entered those familiar eyes. Donna. “Stephen? What—”

“Donna?” His heart raced. “What are you—” There was a creaking noise and then a crack broke through the air.

Time seemed to slow—maybe it did, Stephen couldn’t be sure—as Donna screamed and fell through the ice and into the water, disappearing beneath the surface.

The sound pierced him straight to the heart, the sound straight from his nightmares.

“No!” Stephen didn’t think. “Donna!” He threw himself forward and into the water.

The cold knocked the breath right out of him. He choked; cold water filled his lungs and he was forced to resurface. He coughed up water. His legs flailed beneath him, trying to keep himself afloat. He could barely control his limbs, could barely breathe. He took a gasping breath of air and slid back beneath the surface of the water. He dove, spreading his arms out to try to find Donna’s form.

It didn’t take long. His fingers brushed against cloth and he pushed closer. His hands wrapped around an unresisting arm. Donna.

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her small, limp form. He kicked his legs, trying to propel himself up through the water and back to the surface.

His breath felt tight in his chest.

He crashed into something. Ice. He’d reached the surface. He felt along the bottom of the ice, searching for the opening where Donna had fallen through and Stephen had followed after.

He couldn’t find the opening. The surface had iced over with impossible speed.

Fear ricocheted through him.

His chest ached, a burning sensation as his body demanded oxygen.

He let go of Donna with one arm, holding her tightly to his body with his other. He banged on the ice in a helpless attempt to crack it open again. To get through.

Some part of his mind told him it was already too late.

Too late for Donna.

Quite possibly too late for him.

He couldn’t stop though.

He was getting lightheaded, the need for air starting to overcome the knowledge that if he took a breath now, he’d drown.

Desperation fueled him. His hand screamed in pain as he continued to slam it against the ice as hard as he could. The water slowed his momentum, denying him the force he needed to break through too thick ice.

Panic was starting to take over.

He needed air.

In his arms, Donna seemed to grow impossibly heavy. The weight tugged him down, away from his only chance at air.

Stephen kicked desperately, trying to get back to the surface.

His hold on Donna was slipping.

He tugged at Donna again, trying to pull her back into his arms. In the water her head tilted back, the hair poking out from her beanie spreading out like an angel’s wings. Wide, brown eyes stared at him from a bone white face. Her lips were opened in a perpetual gasp, the skin a discolored, splotchy blue.

For a moment, the world froze.

Donna was dead.

Donna had been dead before Stephen had ever hit the water. Donna had been dead before this game had ever begun.

And if he didn’t let go, he’d die with her.

The pain in his chest wasn’t just the need for oxygen. How could he give up on her, again?

What game was Time playing with him? Why?

It felt like an infinity as he struggled with himself. He could not leave her. But there was a world out there that needed him to fight, and Stephen couldn’t die here out of nothing more than sentiment. Because Donna was gone.

Donna always had been.

He let go. Donna drifted down, down, down into the water, disappearing into the gloom.

Above him the ice cracked and shattered, a hole opening up.

Stephen kicked his legs again, desperately aiming for the hole in the ice. He broke through the water. Air filled his lungs as he desperately gasped. He pulled himself to the edge of the ice.

For a long moment he just stayed there treading water, his failure pressing down against him.

It took all his energy to pull himself out, forcing himself to float on his stomach and drag himself onto the ice inch by inch. The cloak sluggishly helped as well, though the water and ice seemed to have taken a toll on it as well as on Stephen.

He lay on the ice, once again solid beneath him.

A sobbing noise echoed through the air and it took him a moment to realize it was him. There had been a moment, a true moment, when he’d thought he’d could save her. He hadn’t had time to wonder about the repercussions or the method; he’d just clung to that hope.

But there’d been no saving her.

And now Stephen felt as though his heart had once more been carved out of his chest.

Donna.

Sobs wracked his body as he lay there on the ice. Why? Why had Time done that to him? Had it merely been cruelty? Some sort of test he couldn’t understand? A lesson with a sharpened edge?

The image of Donna’s face flashed through his mind again, the gruesome death that would always taint how he remembered her.

The cloak sluggishly tried to wrap around him, perhaps in comfort or perhaps to try to warm him as the sobs gave way to frozen tremblings.

Conceptually, his mind told him that it wasn’t enough. That he was still just as likely to die here on the ice as he was to have died under the water. The cold was a cruel mistress and in combination with the wet… well, he didn’t need to be a doctor to know that if he didn’t have a change in circumstances soon, he’d be following Donna.

His mind idly wondered if that was even possible. If the cold was real or just a manifestation of his mind.

Or a manifestation of Time’s for that matter.

Could he die here?

The haziness of his thoughts seemed appropriate for someone dying. So maybe he could.

The creak of steps on ice dragged him into a state of awareness. Donna stood over him. No, not Donna. Time.

“Why?” he asked; the word came out ragged. “Why do that?”

“All things end, Stephen Strange. It was already too late for Donna. It always would be.”

Stephen forced himself to sit. The cloak was frozen against his back. “Was it just to torture me?” Stephen asked. “Is that why you did this?”

Time tilted her head. “The first time you came to me, you were persuasive, kind. It did not take long for me to understand that the path Soul had placed us on was not one I wanted to tread.” Time looked away. “You have come to me a million times since.”

“And for some reason you are now unconvinced?”

Time met his gaze. “Have you not seen the lesson? Did the ice teach you nothing? Try as you might, Stephen Strange. Sometimes you are simply too late.”

Stephen stared at her. His mind moved slowly, sluggishly. But slowly, the pieces came together. “You’re saying we’re too late to save this universe,” he said. “That we can cleanse the stones and it won’t matter because the dominos have already started to fall.”

“The first fell a long time ago,” Time whispered. “It fell, and no one noticed, not until it was too late for us to change it.”

A different sort of cold crept into Stephen’s heart. “I can’t believe that,” he said. “I can’t believe that there is nothing to be done. There is a whole universe out there at risk, and you would have me believe that we are helpless to save them?” He was so tired of feeling helpless. Just this morning—and thousands of years ago—he had started on a quest to save his own universe. 14 million tries later, he’d only found one wretched, painful way. And now he sat here again, another universe at risk, and Time herself told him that there was no way. “I refuse to believe that.”

“You say that,” Time said. “You always say that, even if you use different words.  In your own universe you said it 4,719,282 times when Dormammu threatened your world. Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain, but that wasn’t what you meant. No, it was a declaration of refusal. That you refused to believe that it was hopeless.” Stephen looked away, the memories stirring beneath the surface. “And then again 14,000,605 times as Thanos took his turn at destroying the world. Each time you tried to create a future where the world lived. You’re quite stubborn, Stephen Strange. But what has it gotten you?”

“A chance for the world to live,” Stephen said, infusing his words with his determination.

“The man you fell in love with, dead at your hands,” Time countered. “Is it worth it?”

Stephen flinched. “Yes.” Because it had to be. It might threaten to rip him to pieces, but the universe was bigger than him and Tony. In the universes where Tony knew the plan, he agreed. “It’s the only way.”

Stephen’s mind darted back to his own universe and the fight that faced them there. It hit him suddenly. He’d seen so many futures, but he’d never seen this one. It could make all the difference. It could make no difference at all.

Stephen didn’t know and that did haunt him, just as Time had said. A future looming in its unknown ahead of him.

That was, of course, if he made it back to his universe alive.

“Which is why I’ll say it again, now. I refuse to believe that there is no way,” he said, forcing the thoughts of his own universe away. One universe at a time. “There’s so much more for this universe, so much more to come, so much life left to be lived, so much progress to be made. It is not time for it to be over.”

Time sighed. “I agree. The universe is not meant to end, here,” Time said. “But every path we’re on leads there. Just as you tread the same path 14,000,605 times, this universe walks in parallel. Death is all that lays in wait.”

“And there was a way,” Stephen pointed out. “I found one way in 14 million futures.” The price was high, but Stephen had come to learn that the price always was. “That’s all we need, one way. All we need is possible.”

Time stared at him. She reached out and touched his cheek. Stephen flinched, her hand was small and pale, a child’s hand. Warmth spread from where she touched and through his entire being. The searing ache in his hand from where he’d pounded against the ice slipped away to something more manageable.

It was pure relief.

The cloak shook itself out, now dry.

Stephen examined Time. Just before she, before Donna, had fallen through the ice she had declared that she ‘enjoyed this next part’ which spoke to some level of sadism. Yet now she acted with what might have been kindness.

How did that correlate to her stated desire to save the universe and her equal certainty that it was impossible?

His own Time stone was so much more reasonable than the one of this universe.

In the end, it didn’t much matter. If Time was willing to listen, was willing to let Stephen help… then there was only one thing he could do.

“Let me help,” he said. “Let me help you find the way.”

Time’s nose wrinkled in insult. “You think that you can find something that I have not found?” she asked. “I am infinity.”

“And I’m human,” Stephen answered honestly. “We’re a persistent, hopeful bunch.”

Time sighed, but her small shoulders slumped. “I suppose it will not hurt. Do not blame me, Stephen Strange, when you realize the truth.”

Stephen raised his jaw. “All we need is possible,” he repeated from earlier. He settled on the ice in preparation for the spell he was about to cast. Time sat across from him. She reached out and took his hands, small and warm in his own.

Stephen had to swallow back the grief of the movement. This was not Donna.

But for a moment, her hands in his, it felt like…

Well, it didn’t matter what it felt like.

Her eyes glowed green and they fell into time.

Over and over and over they went. Time was right; the path was set, the dominos had started their fall a long time ago.

But this was infinity. Space. Time. Reality. Mind. Power. They all lay at their fingertips.

With that? So much more was possible….

But what they needed…

Slowly he started to piece together the parts. One change here, another change there. They followed each path, failed, tried again. Further back they went. Stephen used his experience with the 14,000,605 universes. If nothing else, the attempt had taught him how to ‘think creatively’ for a solution. Slowly he figured out how to stop the first domino from falling.

The world shifted an inch to the left, but it remained alive, but the repercussions… no it wasn’t sustainable.

It was progress, though. Stephen got back to work. This latest iteration had been close, but this universe simply wasn’t ready.

Infinity was at his fingertips. Space. Time. Reality. Mind. Power.

Soul. Possibly, though Stephen couldn’t guarantee that, trapped in this domain as he was.

It was just a matter of using what they had. Time followed his lead, spinning out her webs as they created a new possibility.

A winning possibility.

And that was all it was, a possibility.

But what had Stephen told Time? All they needed was possible.

Minutes—years, decades—later he opened his eyes.

Time stared at him, shock in her eyes. “There’s a way,” she whispered. “You found a way.”

Stephen was surprised himself. It hadn’t even taken him 14 million tries.

“Now we wait,” he said.

Time nodded. “Now we wait,” she repeated. “We wait for Soul’s Steward to make their move. For Soul to choose their path.” Neither of them had any control there, this could all be lost before they ever had a chance to fix it. “And then… then you, Stephen Strange, will help me do what you do best.” Time’s voice went almost giddy with her delight. “Should the Steward of Soul succeed, then we will have one chance, one chance to fix everything. For both of us.”

Stephen found a smile slipping over his face, because Time had returned his favor with her own. He had shown her how to save her universe, in return, she had shown him how the ripple effects of what was done in this universe would—or at least could—affect his own.

The odds had dramatically increased in their favor, all depending on what Tony did now.

Stephen held onto that hope like a lifeline.

Somehow Tony was going to make a move—the details changed, and trapped here as Stephen was, there was nothing he could do to ensure one path, regardless—somehow Tony was going to figure out how to get back into the game.

Stephen had been willing to bet his own universe on Tony.

Somehow it didn’t surprise him that he would bet this one on Tony, too.

Chapter Text

Loki—Earth-344898

“What do you mean it’s not working?” Loki snapped.

Tony and Stephen sat slumped in their seats, still and pale as they leaned against each other. If it were not for the small but steady up and down of their chests, Loki would think them dead.

It was a sight he never wanted to see. One he could barely stand to see now.

“They are not returning,” the Ancient One said. There was a tension in her voice, though it didn’t show on her face. “Something holds them trapped in that other plane of existence.”

Loki snarled. He reached out with his bond for Tony and Stephen’s signatures. He had followed them through the multiverse, he could follow them into another plane of existence.

He’d pull them back himself, if he had to.

“It will not work,” the Ancient One said, understanding without Loki saying a word exactly what he intended to do.

And oh, this may not be his Ancient One, but she was clearly just as frustrating as his had been.

“What’s holding them back?” da Vinci asked.

The Ancient One didn’t answer for a moment, but then her gaze flickered to Stark Raving where he stood some distance away.

It was McDreamy that put it to words. “Soul,” he said. “They travelled into that other plane of existence as souls, so now Soul has trapped them there.”

“It would be my hypothesis,” the Ancient One said. “I shall continue to try to pull them back, but unless they can reach Soul, there is a chance that it will not work.”

Soul.

Soul.

Loki whirled to face Stark Raving. He had left the group earlier to pace back and forth near the wall, but he was still now. For a moment Loki just took him in. He was still pale from the assault Mind had launched on him before they’d sent the others to cleanse the infinity stones, face creased with still lingering pain, but any sympathy Loki had had for him was long gone, now.

Rage welled deep in Loki’s chest. Tony and Stephen were trapped, lost—possibly forever—and Stark Raving was the one with the power to save them. Yet he stood there, doing nothing. Loki stalked toward Stark Raving, feeling the fury echo through his heart with every step he took.

Stark Raving didn’t look at him as Loki approached, furrow in his brow as he stared at the group of stone wielders, all doing their duty, while Stark Raving hid from his.

Loki shoved hard. Stark Raving stumbled back, his back slamming against the wall. “What the hell?” Stark Raving managed. Loki pushed him back again, ignoring the thud of Stark Raving’s head impacting with the wall and the flash of pain that crossed Stark Raving’s face.

Da Vinci and McDreamy both let out a shout, but Loki ignored them. “Fix this,” Loki snapped. “You’re the wielder of Soul. They are trapped because of you, because you will not do your part.”

Stark Raving pushed back, but Loki was too strong for him. This was not his Tony, whose strength had been enhanced by the Extremis he had taken. Stark Raving was weak.

An unexpected blast to his gut sent Loki reeling back. He caught himself just before he could fall.

Stark Raving had donned a part of his armor along one arm, and had used the repulsor to throw Loki back. Loki snarled, daggers flicking into his hands.

Stark Raving held up his hand, the repulsor glowing brightly in threat. “Dare you, Reindeer Games.”

“Hey, whoa, no.” Da Vinci shoved himself in between them. “There’s no fighting in my tower.”

“There will be,” Loki said. “Unless Stark Raving here does what needs to be done.”

Stark Raving glared at him. “You think I wouldn’t help if I could?” he demanded, anger lining his voice. “I don’t have the soul stone,” he snapped. “And I have no way to get it. The one in this universe is already claimed and who knows where while the one in my universe is a) in my universe, where I am currently not, and b) in an unknown location that I couldn’t get to even if I knew where it was. So until you have a solution for both of those problems, we’ve got nothing.”

“Vormir,” Loki said. “That is where our soul stone was hidden. Our universes developed in parallel, the chances are high that soul is there in your universe as well.”

“That didn’t solve either of those problems,” Stark Raving said, tone almost condescending. “I’m not in the right universe for it and I can’t get to it even if I was.” He glanced at the Ancient One. “So unless the Ancient One sends me back, then I’ve got nothing for you.”

The Ancient One looked strangely tired. Loki didn’t think he’d ever seen such weariness in the Ancient One of his universe when she’d been alive. “If I send you back to your universe, I have no way to help you return,” the Ancient One said. “I could only perform the spell I did the one time.”

Fear twisted beneath Loki’s skin. Because in theory they could get Stark Raving back to his universe to retrieve the stone, but they could not get him back. The act would do them no good.

He had to do something. He couldn’t lose Tony and Stephen.

He whirled away from Stark Raving, reaching for the bonds he shared with his bondmates again. But in the bond they felt distant. He tried to tug at the bonds, to bring them to him, tried to follow them, but it led him nowhere.

Stark Raving had started pacing again. “You said this Book of Vishanti—”

“It will not work,” the Ancient One said. “It has already given me the way, if I cannot see it through, then that is my own failing.”

Stark Raving waved his hand dismissively. “No. You said it was in the Gap Junction, the space between universes. Is it possible to get from one universe to another from there?”

Loki froze, staring at Stark Raving, putting together the first pieces of Stark Raving’s proposed plan. That was… that was possible. Perhaps only infinitesimally so, but possible.

“You wish to traverse to your own universe and back through the Gap Junction,” the Ancient One said slowly. “It is nigh impossible to pick the proper path. You could get lost in an infinity of universes.”

For a moment no one reacted, taking in the warning.

Stark Raving’s gaze fell on Loki, a sort of reckless determination in his eyes. “You said you’re good at moving through the cracks in the universe, so long as you have something to follow? Could you pick out my universe?”

Loki paused, considering it. Everyone had their own innate signature, individual to them. He had already noted the difference between his Tony’s and Stephen’s and the signatures of the others. Similar, yes, but different. Stark Raving’s would have a faint echo of his own universe. It was possible. “I believe so.”

Stark Raving pursed his lips. “All right, then we just have to figure out how to get to Vormir and get that stone.”

“Can’t Loki just bring you there?” da Vinci asked.

Loki turned to look at him. He was watching Loki and Stark Raving with sharp eyes. Loki assumed he was trying to decide if the two of them were going to get into an actual fight. Loki hadn’t taken it off the table, yet. “I cannot simply travel wherever I desire,” he said, irritated. “There are paths that I must follow.”

Da Vinci shrugged. “I mean, you can follow bonds, right? That’s how you made it into our universe. You followed your bond with Blue Eyes and Silver Fox. You made your own path with those, right?”

Loki paused, that was true. It was how he had followed Stephen and Tony into this universe. “Yes, however, Stark Raving…” was the Steward of Soul, he realized. A bond with an infinity stone, even one that had not truly been claimed, would leave a mark. It would have some trail to follow. It was simply up to Loki to find it.

“It’d work?” McDreamy asked, clearly sensing that Loki had figured it out. “You can get him to his universe and to Vormir?”

Maybe.

Loki glanced at Tony and Stephen where they sat pale and unmoving on the couch. No, there was no maybe. Not when they were on the line. “Yes.”

“I can open you a portal to the Gap Junction,” the Ancient One said. “From there you must go alone.”

“Wait, whoa, I want to go,” da Vinci said quickly, stepping forward. “This is multiversal travel. I absolutely have to experience that.”

Loki shook his head. “It will be a challenge just to bring Stark Raving. It would stretch my limits to attempt to bring more than one.”

Da Vinci scowled. “You may need help.”

“We’re not going to risk Loki losing one of us because he tried to take too many,” Stark Raving said. “Loki and I are going alone.”

McDreamy rested a hand on da Vinci’s arm. “They’re right, Tony,” he said quietly.

Da Vinci made an annoyed face, but nodded in agreement. “Right. Not the time. Later, though. Later we’re absolutely going to figure out this whole Gap Junction, multiversal travel thing.”

Stark Raving huffed a laugh as he turned to the Ancient One. “Pretty sure we don’t have any time to waste,” he said. “Think you can get us to that Gap Junction?”

The Ancient One nodded. Loki wondered if he was imagining the relief in her eyes. “Be careful,” she said. It occurred to Loki that the Ancient One had been forced to stake everything on the goodwill of strangers from different universes. It was not a prospect Loki would ever want to face. “Should you get lost in the space between universes, there is nothing I will be able to do to help you.”

“We’ll be fine,” Stark Raving said, far more confidently than Loki thought was warranted. But then, if Stark Raving was like Loki’s Tony, then he was a master of false bravado.

The Ancient One opened a portal. Loki stared through. The world beyond was not like anything Loki had seen before. Pillars hung in mid air and paths spun through space headed nowhere.

Da Vinci looked through. “That’s the space between universes?” he asked, tone thoughtful. “Not what I expected.”

McDreamy caught da Vinci’s arm. “Please don’t try to go through that portal, Tony.”

Da Vinci scowled. “I wasn’t going to. I was just looking.”

Stark Raving shook his head, but he looked almost amused. “Let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

“Be careful,” McDreamy said. He looked concerned. “We’re kind of depending on you making it back so that you can help us save our universe.”

Stark Raving snorted. “No pressure. Just the universe at stake, with a bunch of other Tonys and Stephens lives in the balance for good measure.”

Most importantly was Loki’s Tony and Stephen, but Loki didn’t say so.

He followed Stark Raving through the portal. It closed behind them, leaving them in the space between universes. The Gap Junction.

It truly looked nothing like what he’d expected it to. The sky was stained a soft blush of pink and a multitude of paths loomed ahead of them. Just beyond them a center stage stood. There was a pillar there, a book resting on top of it. The book glowed faintly, warm and beckoning, yet strangely intimidating.

“So that’s the fairytale book?” Stark asked. “Looks kind of… normal. Just a book. Admittedly, most books I’ve read don’t glow, so it has that going for it.”

It really did look like any book that Loki might find in the Sanctum library or in Kamar Taj itself—some of which did glow—but Loki could feel the power radiating from it that said it was not like any of those books.

He longed to reach for it, to see what it held within it. The mysteries of the universe, at his fingertips.

Stephen would—

No, he reminded himself. Not now. Stephen. Tony. There was no time for books, not while their lives were on the line. Loki turned to Stark Raving, taking him in. “Are you ready?”

“All on you,” Stark Raving said, meeting his gaze. “I’m not exactly experienced in multiversal travel.”

Loki frowned; neither was he. The world around him was a mess of paths, some visible and some not. It was almost impossible to determine which one might be the right one. He needed to narrow it down. “Walk,” he ordered. “You will be naturally drawn towards universes whose energy signature most closely resembles yours.”

Stark Raving stared at him for a moment; Loki could see the skepticism heavy in his eyes. Finally he sighed and closed his eyes.

Loki waited impatiently as Stark Raving turned in slow circles as though trying to orient himself. Finally, Stark Raving nodded, taking several steps forward, eyes still closed.

Loki jerked forward to catch Stark Raving’s wrist as his feet reached the edge of the path, space falling out beneath him beyond.

A path appeared at Stark Raving’s feet just as he reached it.

Stark Raving opened his eyes, glaring at Loki. “What?” he asked.

Loki dropped his hand where he held Stark Raving’s wrist. “A momentary concern,” he said. He nodded to the path. “Come along.”

Stark Raving snorted. “I was trying to.” He continued walking. Loki followed him.

He kept his focus on Stark Raving, opening his senses to the universes around them. Stark Raving paused as they got to a split in the path, stone leading in two separate directions.

“Do what you did the first time,” Loki said. “Try to find the right path.”

Stark Raving pursed his lips but obediently did as he had the first time. After a long moment he took the left path.

Loki was staring to feel it, an energy signature that matched Stark Raving’s. They paused at the next diversion of the path, but Loki pushed them forward, ignoring the two paths. A third path appeared before them as they took a step off what they could see.

“Trippy,” Stark Raving muttered.

It was impossible to tell how long they walked. Nothing seemed to change. Even as they took path after path, all Loki had to do was look over his shoulder and he could see the center stage where the Book of Vishanti rested on its pillar.

Loki turned back to the path. They kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

His feet hurt and his throat was parched when he felt it. The signature echoed out from the space to their left, a perfect match for Stark Raving’s own. Loki stopped them, looking around. “We’re here,” Loki said. There was nothing there to the visible eye, but how many paths had they taken that hadn’t been there before? Somewhere in front of them was the door between universes.

Stark Raving looked around, eyebrow raised skeptically. “I don’t see anything.”

Loki sent him a scathing look. “You will have to reach out,” he said. “Feel for your universe. I will do what I can to take us to Vormir where the soul stone should await us.”

Stark Raving clenched his jaw, but nodded.

Loki examined Stark’s soul. The first bond he found led back to they’d come from. The bond that Stark Raving shared with Stranger Danger, Loki assumed. Fear twisted in his chest. He could not find the second bond. Could not find where Stark Raving’s soul called for Soul.

“Think of Soul,” Loki demanded. “Think of your connection.”

“Do you not remember that I’ve never seen Soul before?” Stark snapped. Irritation lined his voice, but Loki could hear something closer to despair beneath it. That they’d gotten this far and yet Stark Raving still lacked the key to help them get the rest of the way. “That I’ve never had the stone? That’s what got us into this whole situation in the first place.”

“You carry a connection!” Loki demanded. “You are its wielder, you have used it. Now tap into that.”

Stark Raving ran a hand over his face. His eyes darted around the space around them. Loki could see him thinking, searching. For a moment, grief appeared, sharp and impossible to miss in Stark Raving’s eyes. “God dammit,” he muttered. He closed his eyes again, breathing deeply. “Come on.” Loki heard him whisper. “It’s you, JARVIS. It’s always you.”

For a moment there was nothing and then… It was a gossamer thread, thin and weak emanating out from Stark and into the nothingness in front of them. It was enough. He touched the bond between Stark Raving and Soul, had the strangest sense of a whisper in his mind, for you, sir, always that echoed at the core of the bond.

“Now reach for your universe,” Loki demanded. He charged his magic through Stark’s bond, giving it as much of a boost as he was able, while still conserving energy to get them back to Tony and Stephen. “Grab for it.”

Stark reached out, hand grasping at thin air. The space in front of them rippled and then a door appeared. It opened slowly, darkness beyond.

Loki manipulated the gossamer thread that was Stark Raving’s bond with the Soul Stone, urging the doorway in front of him to give him the straightest route from where they were to where they needed to be. It took nearly all his energy, but the space outside of the door shifted, darkness falling away to be replaced by a misty planet, dark purple stone leading up a path to something beyond.

Loki had never been to Vormir before, Gamora had told them of its existence, but only after they had defeated Thanos and the fear she’d carried that Thanos would learn from her what she had found had faded. Still, Loki knew instinctively that this must be it.

Stark Raving stepped through the door. Loki followed him out and onto the cliff path. A voice echoed ahead of them, only just loud enough to be heard.

Loki recognized the voice. It was Gamora.

“You kill and torture and you call it mercy. The universe has judged you. You asked it for a prize and it told you no.” Gamora’s voice was almost exultant.

Thanos, Loki realized. She was talking to Thanos. Loki had heard these words before, not exactly, of course, but the tone of them, the meaning of them.

Stark Raving was frozen, listening as Gamora’s voice echoed down the path toward them.

“You failed,” Gamora continued. “And do you want to know why? Because you love nothing. No one.” A pause. “Really? Tears?”

“They are not for him,” came another voice, this one unrecognizable.

The silence lasted too long, but Loki found he could not move, trapped in the moment.

“No.” Gamora’s voice came again, but now there was fear, anger, revulsion. “This isn’t love.” Gamora’s voice was laced with horror and fear.

“A soul for a soul,” Stark Raving whispered. “That’s what the soul stone demands. A soul for a soul.” He started running, just as another voice spoke out.

Loki recognized this one, too. Though he’d only heard it once, in that final fight where they’d destroyed him. Thanos.

“I ignored my destiny once. I cannot do that again. Even… for you. I’m sorry, little one.”

Stark Raving catapulted forward, suit forming around him.

Loki raced after.

Gamora screamed.

No. They’d been too late. Too late for the Gamora of this universe, too late to stop this Thanos from retrieving the stone.

Too late.

Loki reached the top of the path as Stark Raving’s armor appeared at the top of the cliff. It stumbled over the edge back to solid ground and fell on hands and knees with a thud as metal crashed onto rock.

The armor retreated, and Loki froze as he took in the figure gasping desperately for air on the ground.

Because that wasn’t Stark Raving.

That was Gamora, Stark Raving’s arc reactor pressed to her chest.

Stark Raving…

Stark Raving was gone.

Chapter Text

Tony “Stark Raving” Stark: The Steward of Soul—Earth-19999

He’d acted on instinct. He’d felt the soul stone the moment they’d stepped onto Vormir as a strange call beneath his skin, beckoning him closer. Kind of creepy, if Tony was honest, but it really hadn’t been the time to let that bother him. There had been a woman talking, her voice echoing down the cliff pathway.

But beneath her words, he had heard a quieter voice, nothing more than a whisper echoing in his mind.

A soul for a soul. So the price is, so the price will always be.

He had known what was about to happen just before it had. A soul for a soul. And Thanos—because it had to be Thanos—had a soul ready for sacrifice. The scream had echoed in his ears.

Propelling himself past Thanos and off the cliff after the falling woman had been an idiotic choice, but it had been the only choice Tony had for a multitude of reasons.

He wasn’t in the habit of just letting people get killed in front of him, for one. For the other, he was pretty sure that if the woman falling off the cliff hit the ground, then the soul stone was out of his reach forever.

The fall seemed to span a lifetime, even as it all seemed to happen in a moment. He moved faster than he ever had in his life, catching the woman in the air, ripping the arc reactor off his chest and onto her own, ordering the suit to bring her over the cliff’s edge and back to solid ground.

He’d seen, in the last moment, his suit crest over the cliff, had the barest moment to hope he’d saved her.

And then…

It hadn’t hurt.

He’d kind of expected it to hurt. In fact, he’d expected it to be absolute agony.

But it was just a terrifying, all encompassing fear and then… nothing. Nothing but an orange sunset reflecting light off the water.

He sat slowly, examining the space. He felt… calm. Abnormally so, if anyone wanted his opinion, given he’d just thrown himself off a cliff and was almost undoubtedly dead.

He ran his hand over his body, but everything seemed to be in one piece, and there were no outstanding hurts.

Even the sharp, unending headache that he’d been sporting since the time loop and Mind’s attack seemed to have vanished.

Honestly, for being dead—which he was at least 93 percent certain he was—it was surprisingly… anticlimactic.

“Most people don’t sacrifice themselves,” came a voice behind him, warm and easy. There was something faintly familiar to it—like the voice of an old friend he’d long since lost—but Tony couldn’t place it. “At least not without someone there to accept the sacrifice.”

Tony turned to face the voice. He felt his eyes widen as he saw who it was. “Yinsen?” He swallowed down a sudden bout of emotion. Of everyone to greet him in the afterlife…

“I thought his face would comfort you,” Yinsen said, voice gentle. “But I am not him.”

Regret dug into him, because just for a moment…

It did, at least, answer who was in front of him, if not Yinsen. “Soul,” Tony guessed.

Soul nodded. “Yes, that is what I’m called.” Soul examined him for a long moment, those eyes—an amber sort of orange—full of the same thoughtful consideration that Tony had once seen in Yinsen’s. “You weren’t supposed to sacrifice yourself,” Soul said finally. “Stone wielders… they’re not allowed to be killed by the stones they wield.”

Tony wasn’t sure what to do with that verification from Soul himself that Tony really was supposed to be the wielder of the soul stone. Even with everything that had happened, that felt unreal. If Tony had to put together a list of people who should be trusted with power like that… well, he wasn’t sure he would even make the list, he definitely wouldn’t top it.

More interesting, however, was the claim that soul wasn’t ‘allowed’ to kill him. “That’s good, I guess?” he said. Because he might have thrown himself off the cliff, but he didn’t actually want to be dead. So not dying sounded good to him, if that was an actual option.

Though he was admittedly fuzzy on how they fixed the whole ‘dead’ thing when Tony had already taken the dive from the cliff.

“So what happens? Because I’m pretty sure that Thanos guy up there—” and all Tony had really seen was a big, purple figure, ”—is about to try his own sacrifice move again. I really can’t let that happen.”

Soul frowned thoughtfully. “Time is frozen,” he said. “Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that time passes differently, here. An infinity of time could pass here, while but a moment passes there. Thanos cannot act, not yet.” Soul pursed his lips. “I need to figure out what to do with you. You are not supposed to die, but I cannot let you go, nor can I be claimed by you, without a sacrifice.”

So they were back to Tony and his death. And god, Tony wanted to live, he did. Especially when Soul seemed to be indicating that he could. But there were bigger things at play here. Maybe Soul wasn’t ‘allowed’ to kill him, but Tony had been finding wiggle room in rules for a long time. “Give Loki the stone,” Tony suggested. “Make him the stone wielder instead of me. Then you’re allowed to kill me, you’ve got your sacrifice, and you don’t end up in Thanos’ hands.” Win-win-win. Except for Tony, that was a pretty big loss on Tony’s end.

“He is not from this universe,” Soul said. He gave Tony a look as though that should be obvious and Tony was an idiot for not realizing. “He cannot be my chosen steward.” Soul examined him. “I chose you, long ago. You were… so young.”

Kind of creepy, Tony thought. He didn’t think he really wanted to get any clarification on just how Soul had chosen him or why or… well, anything. Best to leave that as an unknown.

“And you can’t kill me?” Tony clarified.

“No,” Soul said. “The other stones could, but I cannot. Just as Time could not kill Stephen Strange, nor Space Carol Danvers, nor…” Soul waved a hand “You understand my point.”

Something like relief filled him. “So the others… in the other universe. They can’t die?”

Soul raised an eyebrow. “They may wield their stones, but they do not wield those stones. Death is very much still a possibility.”

The relief vanished.

“Right.” It was just another reason he had to get out of here, to ensure that the others didn’t die. “So… I’m stuck here?” Tony said. He rubbed at his face. “Because you’re not allowed to kill me, but you have to do something. I’m gonna be honest, this seems like the sort of thing someone should have considered before this ever happened.”

Soul stared at him, thoughtful.

It reminded Tony of Yinsen during their games of dice back in that Afghanistan cave as he’d contemplated his path to victory.

Tony had always lost when Yinsen had gotten like that. It wasn’t a very comforting precedent. He was pretty sure if he lost now, it was the permanent sort of loss.

Not really on the agenda for the day. But then, absolutely nothing that had happened today had been on the agenda, from the invading aliens, to the trip to space, to the multiversal emergency, to the moment he’d thrown himself off the cliff.

It should have been a boring day, meetings with R&D, some paperwork, a lovely dinner with Pepper.

Normal things.

Pepper wasn’t going to be happy, he couldn’t help but think. He was going to have to do some major groveling for climbing aboard the donut ship when Pepper had rather desperately asked him not to, had, in fact, practically begged him to not get on the spaceship, to come back.

He winced at the very thought of it. That was a problem for if he made it back. There were a whole lot of things that were making that less and less likely.

His current probably-dead status was just one of them.

“A soul for a soul,” Soul murmured, more to himself than to Tony, but it was enough to pull Tony out of his thoughts of Pepper and the situation he’d found himself in. “A soul for a soul.” Soul looked away, out into the distance where the sunset cast that faded orange light over the land.

Tony waited.

“Your soul in payment will suffice,” Soul said finally. “It always does.” Soul looked back at Tony, and something sad crossed Soul’s eyes. Regret, maybe. Tony supposed it should bring him some peace that Soul didn’t want to kill him. But…

“You know,” Tony said quietly, taking in the tired sort of upset in Soul’s expression. “You didn’t kill me. I threw myself off that cliff. That wasn’t you. I’m willing to pay the price. I’m pretty sure you already know all about how I got here and what’s going on… Give Loki the stone. Sure, he’s not a stone wielder, but if they have you… Between him and the Ancient One I have to believe they’ll figure out how to save that other universe without me.” They had to. “All they really need is you.” It would work, it had to. “And then Strange…” Tony breathed deeply. “Once that other universe is saved. He’ll be able to use you and Time to save this universe. My soul is a price I’m more than willing to pay.” Soul didn’t have to feel guilty about it.

Maybe Tony shouldn’t care all that much about what a rock felt, but… but it wore Yinsen’s face.

Tony would do anything to alleviate that guilt.

Soul sighed. “You always are. Always willing to pay that price. Death is so easy, Tony Stark. Just a life lived and then moving on to whatever lies after this. And you… You humans, you all live it so fully… At some point it’s no longer a tragedy.”

“Right, not a tragedy.” Tony wasn’t sure he agreed with that, but he could accept that to an immortal being, it probably started looking that way. “So, my plan’s a go?”

“No,” Soul said quietly, and that regret was back. “I told you, a stone cannot kill its wielder. A soul for a soul, Tony Stark. You’ve given me yours.” Yeah, and Soul had said it didn’t count, so Tony wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that. Yinsen met his gaze, and there was something in his eyes… “I hope, in time, you find peace with the choices you’ve made,” Soul told him, voice quiet.

For a moment, Tony saw Yinsen as he was back in the cave with the quiet words that had felt like daggers in Tony’s heart, it’s okay; I want this. I want this. It was hope, but only the most painful sort.

Tony didn’t want to know what it meant, but something told him he needed to.

“Good luck, Tony Stark,” Soul said, soft and calm. “Take good care of me.”

“Wait, what—” Tony didn’t have time to finish his question to figure out what any of that was supposed to mean. The world flickered orange and then… He was somewhere else, kneeling in a pool of water. Soul glistened in his hand beneath the glinting surface of the water.

What had just happened?

“What is this?” came a deep voice from a few feet away. It yanked Tony out of his moment of reverie.

Whatever the hell had just happened was going to have to take second place to figuring out what was going on now.

Surrounding him were three others, each in the water. The woman he’d saved, Loki, and the large purple behemoth that had to be Thanos. A shiver ran down Tony’s spine. A gold gauntlet rested on Thanos’ hand, purple, red, and blue glittered at the knuckles.

Power, reality, and space. He’d already known that Thanos had them. But seeing it…

It was, quite possibly, the most terrifying sight of his life.

Tony swore he could feel the power emanating from the glove. Three aspects of infinity united together by a mad man.

Shit. This wasn’t good.

Tony didn’t have his suit—his arc reactor still clung to the woman’s chest—and he definitely wasn’t about to get into a fight with someone who’d beaten the Hulk and had three infinity stones.

Seemed like a good way to die.

Tony had already done that once today, no need to go double or nothing.

Thanos’ gaze landed on him.

Time to move. “Loki,” he yelled as he scrambled back and away from Thanos.

Tony couldn’t say what happened next.

Loki was there one moment and gone the next. Thanos was lunging toward him, gauntlet extended. The woman was throwing herself forward to intercept the attack. Tony clenched soul in his hand and—

A hand wrapped around his forearm and Tony was yanked backwards. The world warped.

He couldn’t breathe, he was being dragged through something thick and heavy. He was being suffocated. The world twisted and distorted around him; the colors smeared into each other like a child playing with paint.

There was a heavy pressure in his ears, the weight getting worse and worse, the pressure higher and higher. He couldn’t breathe. It was all he could do to cling to the soul stone. All he could do to keep consciousness.

There was a heavy, sucking sound and then…

Tony fell to the ground. He gasped for air, nearly choking on it in his desperation.

He could hear someone coughing beside him, in their own desperate attempts to breathe.

“You made it,” came his own voice.  Tony cracked open his eyes to see da Vinci a few feet away. Da Vinci wasn’t looking at him, though. No, da Vinci was more focused on the person next to him. “And you brought an alien? Why the hell is there an alien?”

Tony looked to the side to see the woman he’d saved. Beyond her was Loki, collapsed on the ground and far paler than even Loki was supposed to get. Blood leaked from his nose, dripping down into his slightly parted mouth.

“Where are we?” the woman asked. “How did we get here?” her gaze darted around the room, pausing on Loki. “I know you, Loki Odinson. You were sent to Terra on Thanos orders. You failed him.”

“That was not me,” Loki said, voice a little ragged. He wiped at his face, blood smearing on his sleeve. He glanced at it, sneering a little at the sight of his blood. “No, I’m afraid you’ve stumbled into a multiversal dilemma, Gamora.”

Gamora? “Wait? This is Gamora?” It took him a moment to realize he’d said the words out loud. “As in Quill’s Gamora?”

Gamora’s head jerked towards him, her eyes widening. “You know Quill?” she asked.

“Know is a bit strong,” Tony said. The intensity in Gamora’s eyes didn’t fade. “Uh, we met on Titan, we were preparing to fight Thanos.” Gamora shivered at the words, one hand coming up to wrap around herself in a hug. “Quill and the other two—Mantis? Drax?—were looking for you. I ended up getting sucked into this universe before that could happen. But when we get back—” And they had to get back. Tony didn’t know how time was moving in terms of relativity, but he’d just pissed Thanos off and he couldn’t leave Peter to face that alone. ”—I guess I’ll be helping Quill and your lot fight Thanos then. Though, I’ve got to say, our odds really aren’t looking good.”

Except things had changed, Tony realized suddenly. They had two stones, and instead of having four, Thanos would only have three.

One chance in 14 million. Those odds meant nothing, anymore. They would never, could never, get back to the state of affairs that had brought those odds into being. What if they’d made it worse? Tony couldn’t dismiss that possibility—not when the odds had already been so bad. But maybe they’d made it better.

Would it be naive to hope?

“We are… in a different universe,” Gamora said slowly, drawing Tony back to the matter at hand. She looked around, gaze furrowed. “Why?”

Da Vinci jumped forward, explaining the situation quickly. Tony ignored them, looking down at the stone in his hand. It glowed a warm orange, bright and strangely inviting. He looked up to find the Ancient One staring at him. There was a strange look in her eyes… like grief.

Shouldn’t she be happy? He had retrieved the stone. The plan to save the Ancient One’s universe was back on track.

“You paid a hefty price, Tony Stark,” she said quietly.

Had he? “I was supposed to die,” Tony said. “But I didn’t.”

The Ancient One shook her head. “No, you didn’t.” It sounded… final, when she said it, as though she knew something that he didn’t. A shiver ran down his spine.

He managed to push himself to his feet, knocking the thought aside. Because there were bigger things at play here than prices he may or may not have paid. The other Tonys and Stephens were all still stuck, and Tony needed to get them out and get back home. “I think you need to send me into that other plane of existence,” he said. “Time for me to get Soul to see sense and get the others out.”

The Ancient One sighed. “Yes,” she said. “You have an hour,” she said quietly. “I hope that is enough time.”

Tony nodded. “It will be.” He hoped.

He took his seat on the couch next to Strange. The Ancient One stood in front of him.

The others must have realized what was going on, because they gathered around. “Good luck,” McDreamy said.

“No pressure,” da Vinci added, tone a little wry. “Just, you know, our whole universe and what not.”

Tony made a note not to go to da Vinci for pep talks.

“Bring them back,” Loki ordered.

The Ancient One met his eyes, solemn expectation in every inch of her expression. She spun the spell, orange magic flickering into being around her hands. An orange tendril of magic wafted away from her and towards Tony. It wrapped around Tony’s wrist, crawling up his arm.

Tony took a deep breath. Now or never.

Chapter Text

Tony “Stark Raving” Stark: The Steward of Soul—Earth-19999

It happened within a blink, the room vanishing to be replaced by the same world he’d occupied not so long ago. It was the soul stone again. Or at least some world like it.

In his hand, the soul stone sung a siren song, beckoning the other soul stone to join them.

There was a shiver in the air; the world turned cold around him. “Hello?” Tony called. He almost expected Yinsen to appear again, just as he had back on Vormir.

But there was nothing.

Tony turned slowly. “Come on,” he called again. “I’m here to help.” Nothing. “You’re hurting people,” he said. “A lot of people.”

The silence was starting to get unnerving. Was he supposed to do something? Surely he was supposed to do something. The Ancient One hadn’t exactly given him any clues. Had outright said she didn’t know what he’d face.

“Come on,” he called again. It was cold, bitterly so. It hadn’t been this cold when he’d gotten here, had it? “Where are you?”

He could feel the pressure of eyes on him, but there was no one there.

In his hand, the soul stone pulsed with warmth. He brought it up to his chest, clutching it with both hands to try to spread the heat.

It was freezing.

Great, Soul was giving him the silent treatment, a quite literal cold shoulder. Tony had really been through far too much today to end it with a stone giving him the silent treatment.

The sunset-like nature of the sky was darkening, as though night was falling. Could night fall here?

How long had he been here?

The Ancient One had said she would pull him back after an hour. But that… that didn’t really help. Soul-Yinsen had said that time passed differently within the soul stone. And sure, he wasn’t in the soul stone now, but he was in another plane of existence. There was a pretty high chance that time passed differently here, too.

He could be here for… for a very long time.

And that was only if she managed to pull him back out.

She hadn’t been able to pull the others out. They didn’t know why, they’d only had the guess that Soul was keeping them trapped.

If Tony couldn’t cleanse the soul stone…

Fear curled in his chest. He could be stuck here for a very long time. Stuck alone in the cold and the silence.

Shivers wracked his body and he kept himself curled as small as possible as though that would help him conserve heat.

“Come on,” he called again. His voice didn’t even echo. Tony almost wished it would, just to give him the sense that there was anything else in the silence. “This is getting ridiculous.”

He wished he’d thought to grab his armor back. Not that it would actually do him any good, but psychologically he would feel a little less unprepared. And he was pretty sure he’d have been able to start a fire at least to keep warm, not that there was any kindling to keep a fire burning, so maybe that wasn’t a good idea.

A moment later it occurred to him that it might not have done him any good. He was soul, here. His body was nothing more than… well, Tony wasn’t exactly sure how it worked. It hadn’t felt like a priority to figure out given everything else going on.

It was full dark, now; the only light was the glow of the soul stone still clenched tight in his trembling hands.

He stared down at it. “You going to be any help?” he asked it.

There was no reaction.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to go. Nothing to do. No stone to cleanse. Nothing but… well, there was no but in this situation. There was simply nothing.

“Listen,” he tried again. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why you started poisoning the other infinity stones or why you started hurting people. But you’ve got to stop. You’re destroying the universe. I really hope I don’t need to tell you why that’s a bad idea.”

He kept talking, not sure what to say, but trying to fill the silence. He tried everything he could think of. Reminders of why the world shouldn’t be destroyed. Taunts about Soul being afraid to even make an appearance. Pleas that Soul at least show themself. Diatribes about the stupidity of Soul’s choices.

Eloquent, he was not.

At some point the trembling stopped, but he kept talking.

If he were actually in his body, he’d probably be getting frostbite right about now. If it were possible for souls to get frostbite, then he had absolutely no doubts that that was what was happening.

It was growing darker. Tony hadn’t thought that was possible. He could still feel the warmth of the soul stone in his hand, but its light no longer penetrated the dark.

Tony closed his eyes, not that it made a difference. But at least he could pretend the darkness was his choice, this way.

The fear was tight in his gut.

Was he going to be here, alone, for the rest of his life? Would his life even end in this place? Or would he be trapped here in a universe not his own, in the dark and the cold, until… until time itself ended.

Though, given that the infinity stones were currently ripping this universe apart, he could rest assured that that would happen.

Somehow that didn’t comfort him.

He’d never really been afraid of the dark before, but then he’d never experienced darkness like this before. This was the sort of darkness that could swallow a person whole. This was the sort of darkness that a person could feel.

This was the sort of darkness that made a person lose their mind.

He’d ran out of things to say to the soul stone, but the sound of his voice kept him from feeling like he was losing his mind entirely, so he kept talking.

When that failed, he started singing.

His voice was hoarse from all of the talking he’d done so far, but he didn’t let that stop him.

He moved through his repertoire of AC/DC, hit on Black Sabbath, took a dive into Iron Maiden.

At some point he gave in and started singing Disney songs—songs he would never admit to knowing, but hey, he’d watched Hercules once, or maybe a few times, not his fault he remembered the lyrics—because he couldn’t think of anything else.

Disney songs sent him spinning through older, less classic rock songs. His mother’s songs were softer on his lips, kinder.

His voice had passed hoarse, and Tony finally gave up when he’d been reduced to a rasp.

How long had it been?

The silence pressed in on him.

Eternity seemed to pass, an eternity of nothingness.

He was losing his mind to the nothingness. He dug his nails into the skin of his arms, using the pain to ground himself.

The relief didn’t last.

Each subsequent attempt helped less and less.

Not even his body felt real anymore.

He started over at the beginning. The diatribes and pleas. The music. The pain.

Tony was never going to know anything other than this again, was he?

He lost himself in memories for a while, trying to leach warmth from them. They felt dim, distant. As though they were memories from a long time ago.

He talked again. Sang. Bit his nails into his skin.

His thoughts felt distant, but he had to cling to them. He couldn’t lose himself.

Why was he here? What had brought him to this place?

Had he always been here?

No. He clung to his memories. But… but were they real? Or just something he’d dreamt up in the dark.

“Tony?” the voice came from somewhere in the distance, the first sound not his own in… in a very long time. Tony struggled to sit up from where he’d ended up flat on the ground. He twisted in circles, trying to determine what direction the sound had come from. “Tony! Oh, darling boy,” the voice sighed. Tony’s heart pounded, because he knew this voice, the memories struggling to reach him through the fogginess of his mind. “What have you done to yourself this time?”

The words were a vice around his heart. Suddenly he felt like he was six again, always getting into one mess or another. He could almost picture his mom, dressed as elegantly as she always was, hair immaculately coiffed and exasperation on her face.

“Mom?” he asked. His voice came out barely a whisper.

“Tony.” It was definitely his mom’s voice. He forced himself to his feet and moved toward the sound, stumbling in the dark. His body felt unreal, like it was no longer his own. “You shouldn’t be out here, darling. You need to come home.”

“Always where he doesn’t belong,” came another voice, this one closer. He recognized his dad’s immediately. “Never seems to learn any better.”

“Dad?” he asked. “Mom? Dad?” Where were they?

“Tony,” his mom’s voice came again. He was getting closer. “It’s time to come home, now. It’s time to leave.”

There was nothing that Tony wanted more than to leave this cold, dark eternal emptiness.

“Mom?”

The glow was faint, in the distance, but it was the first light Tony had had in so long. He almost wasn’t sure he wasn’t hallucinating it.

He stumbled towards it.

It grew larger and larger as he made it closer, a doorway of some sort.

Oh god. Freedom. He could leave. He could get out of here and leave this darkness behind.

He didn’t know what was on the other side, but it had to be better than this.

The light was blinding as he got nearer, and he had to blink away the dots it left in his eyes. He grimaced, bringing his hand up to protect his eyes.

A faint glow of orange caught his attention.

He froze.

The soul stone was in his hand.

How long had it been there?

Had it always been there?

He pried his hand open. The ridges of the soul stone had dug grooves into his palm and fingers.

The soul stone. His soul stone.

The memories returned slow and sluggish. The how’s and why’s of his presence here in the dark.

“Tony, darling?” His mom sounded confused. “It’s time to leave. You can’t stay here.”

Tony swallowed. His throat ached.

He couldn’t survive here. He had no idea how long he’d been here, but he knew that if he stayed much longer he’d lose himself entirely.

Tony couldn’t survive this place. Couldn’t survive the emptiness. The darkness. The loneliness.

“I can’t,” he whispered.

“Tony.” HIs mom sounded exasperated. “Darling. It’s time to go. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I can’t,” he repeated. “I can’t leave.” He looked up at the light emanating from the doorway.

Freedom.

“Why not?” his dad asked, tone irritated in that way it had always gotten when Tony did something his dad didn’t like. Too often, really. “We can’t wait for you forever, you know.”

Tony closed his eyes. The darkness… it terrified him.

“I can’t leave without Soul,” he said. “I came here for a reason.” He needed to cleanse Soul.

He just… he didn’t know how. He’d tried though, hadn’t he? He’d come to this plane of existence fully intent on helping. It wasn’t his fault that it hadn’t worked. Not his fault he hadn’t had a chance. He’d done his best.

Surely no one could ask him to stay here forever?

Surely no one could expect him to… to spend an eternity here. To die here.

But he knew, he knew if he left now, he was damning an entire universe.

But not his universe.

Didn’t his own universe need him?

It wasn’t wrong to choose his own universe, was it?

He took a hesitant step forward, closer to the door. He had a universe that needed him. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t save them all.

Something warm trailed down his cheek. Tony reached up, brushed his fingers across his skin. They came back wet. He was crying.

Why was he crying?

“Tony, darling…”

The tear had left a trail of heat down his cheek. He knew why, even if he didn’t want to put it into words. Because he could try to convince himself as much as he wanted that he could abandon this universe… but he knew.

“I can’t leave,” he said again. Another tear leaked out. “I can’t leave without Soul.”

His universe was waiting for him. But either he’d been here what felt an eternity and it was already too late to save his own, or it didn’t matter how long he spent here—days, weeks, years—and the chance to save his universe remained, in which case it didn’t matter how long he was here, because he couldn’t give up and damn this universe.

The light from the doorway was dimming.

“Tony,” his mom’s voice was panicked. “Please, Tony. You need to leave. You can’t stay here.”

The urge to run for the fading light seemed to infuse every inch of his body. What if he was making a mistake? What if that was Soul trying to free him? What if that was the spell the Ancient One had performed to pull him out?

What if?

No.

He clenched his fists tightly and didn’t let himself move. His soul stone dug into his skin again, a reminder of why he was doing this.

The light faded until Tony was left desperately searching the dark, an echo of the light against his eyelids when he closed his eyes.

He looked down at his hand, but the only sign that his soul stone was still there was the sensation of stone digging into his skin. The darkness covered everything.

Fear curdled through him. What had he done? What sort of idiot was he that he hadn’t taken a way out when he’d had it?

“Come on,” Tony yelled, tried to. His voice was ragged now. “I’m here, Soul. And I’m not leaving.”

Nothing.

Tony couldn’t breathe.

He’d damned himself.

Damned himself to darkness and nothingness.

“Hello.”

Tony whirled in the darkness, not sure if he’d really heard the word or if it was a darkness-inspired hallucination.

“Hello?” Tony called back. “Soul?”

“What do you want?” the voice was behind him again.

Tony turned slowly. He tried to find words, but if he’d lacked eloquence before, he’d worn himself out entirely. All he had was the truth. “I’m just here to get you to stop,” Tony said. “You’re destroying the universe out there. Killing people.”

“Death is easy,” the voice said, and it had to be Soul, didn’t it? It sounded a little like Yinsen, that was the form Soul had taken, right? Or was Tony grasping at straws? “They should be grateful for that mercy. I’ve spared them the pain of infinity.”

Tony… Tony supposed he got that. The logic was warped to hell, but the logic was still there. If he was damned here, he’d think that death was a convenient way out, too. “Soul, you have to stop.”

“No,” Soul said. The tone was almost belligerent. “Thanos showed me. He showed me how rotten this universe is. He thought to halve it, to heal it. But that’s not enough. There is no saving this universe.”

Tony stared into the darkness, trying to find the right words. But… but Soul was broken.

He hadn’t known what he’d expected, but an infinity stone trying to destroy the universe because that was the only way to destroy themself? Yeah, that seemed way outside Tony’s abilities to help.

“You don’t realize how pointless it all is,” Soul said quietly.

“Because it’s not,” Tony said quietly. “Because it’s not pointless.”

Soul laughed, but it was a broken, shattered sound. “You don’t understand the weight of infinity.”

“No,” Tony said. “But you’re not alone anymore. And we’ll figure out how to make sure you don’t have to be again.”

“You would stay here?” Soul asked, his tone… hopeful. “You would stay, forever? If it would save them?”

Tony swallowed hard. “I need to save my own universe,” he said, because he had to, because there were so many lives on the line. “But I’d… I’d come back.”

Soul didn’t answer immediately. Tony got the sense that he was trying to decide if Tony was lying. Tony prayed with all his strength that he wasn’t, because even he wasn’t sure.

“You would,” Soul said. He sounded amazed. “You’d come back.”

“Yes,” Tony said. “But you need to stop. You need to stop destroying this universe. It deserves to live.”

“I killed him,” Soul said quietly, and it sounded like a warning of what would wait for Tony. “Thanos. He held me in his hands and I… I devoured his soul. He was not my wielder and I was… I was so hungry, so alone.”

Tony flinched. That was… unpleasant to imagine.

Probably hadn’t helped with the whole corruption thing. He was pretty sure that Thanos’ soul was pretty nasty.

Not that he was entirely sure that was how the whole thing worked. It also, Tony suspected, was what would eventually happen to him. His Soul couldn’t kill him. This one could.

Endless nothing and then… well, dying wouldn’t really be a tragedy by then.

The light was slowly returning, orange appearing on the horizon. Tony thought it might blind him, dim as it was.

He could make out the faint silhouette of a person standing in front of him.

“So we’ve got a deal? You and the rest of the stones will stop your ‘let’s destroy the universe’ game. I save my own universe and then come back and you and I get to have an eternal…” He trailed off. “Anyways, all is well that ends well. Whatever it is that people always say.”

The figure in front of him was starting to gain features in the light. Yinsen’s face looked back at him beneath the dim lights.

“It’s not that easy,” Soul said quietly, almost regretfully. “The path is set. We’re too late. You always have been. You always would be.”

Tony’s heart twisted. “What do you mean? Too late?”

Soul’s silhouette shrugged.

Tony really didn’t like that answer.

The light was changing again, a hint of green joining the orange in the horizon. Tony noted it anxiously, not sure what it meant.

“There’s another way,” came a voice behind him, soft and young.

Tony turned.

Strange stood in front of him, a young girl at his side. It was the girl who had spoken.

“What do you mean?” Tony asked. “What other way?”

Strange met his gaze, eyes full of worry. “Are you all right, Tony?” he asked, voice soft.

Tony tried not to laugh. Because he really didn’t feel all right, no. “Peachy,” he answered.

Concern crossed Strange’s face. “Tony, what happened to you?”

Tony snorted. “Narrow that down, would you? Are you talking about the part where I threw myself off a cliff or the part where I spent…” He trailed off. It felt foolish to make it sound like sitting around in the dark was some huge trial, but… but it’d been so long, the darkness had etched itself in him.

Strange’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he whispered. “You sacrificed yourself, didn’t you, Tony?” Regret crossed his face. “I’m sorry.”

Tony shrugged, trying to dismiss it. Trying to dismiss all of it. “Yeah, guess so. Kind of an accident, so don’t go making it sound like I thought that through.”

Strange just stared at him. Tony got the sense that Stephen knew something that Tony didn’t.

Tony didn’t have the energy to figure out what, yet. “You okay, Strange?” he asked. “We tried to pull you out, but...” He waved a hand in Soul’s direction.

An unidentifiable emotion crossed Strange’s expression. “I’m fine,” he said.

Tony didn’t know Strange well; hell, he didn’t know Strange at all. Still, Tony got the sense that Strange was lying.

Now wasn’t the time to figure out what trauma Time had put Strange through. That… well, it probably wasn’t Tony’s place, but either way it could be addressed later.

For now… For now they had a universe they needed to concentrate on saving. “You said there was another way. What did you mean?”

Strange allowed the change back to the more important topic. “We need the others.” He glanced at Soul behind Tony. “We’re going to need all of us.”

Almost on command, the lights in the sky shifted and changed again. Yellow, red, blue, and purple joining the orange and green.

“Finally!’ Blue Eyes said immediately. “Progress! I thought I was going to lose my mind with only Space to talk to. He kind of sucks as a conversationalist.”

Tony blinked around. The other two Tonys and Stranges were there, each with their own… person. The Ancient One, his dad—weird—and a Tony and Strange that weren’t a part of their group and had to be the avatars for their respective stones.

“What’s going on?” Vincent asked, he looked tired. “Power said that we’re too late?”

“That’s what Soul said,” Tony agreed.

“It was,” Strange said. “But there’s another way.”

Blue Eyes crossed his arms over his chest. “No one mentioned anything about another way. I thought we were just here to cleanse the stones—which sucked, by the way—and then the stones would fix everything themselves.”

“It’s too late,” the girl said. Her eyes were a piercing green. Between that and the fact that she stood at Strange’s side, Tony was going to guess she was Time. “We passed the point of no return. No, this is something that must be undone before it can come to pass.”

“Time travel,” Strange said quietly.

“What about time travel?” Edward asked. “Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t sign up for that. We all have universes to get back to.”

“Not us,” Strange said. “First Soul. We need to send it back in time, bring it to Kamar Taj. It needs a home. We need to stop this from ever happening.”

Tony felt something like relief. If they changed Soul’s path, then Tony… then Tony got to go home. But there was a problem. “How do we get Soul?” he asked. “Because that sounds like we need the actual stone.”

“Call to me,” Soul said, drawing Tony’s attention back to him. “I am drifting, aimless. With no one to wield me, you and the stone you carry are a lode stone, pulling me down, anchoring me back to this universe.”

Great, that sounded easy enough. “Awesome, I’ll do that. We’ll get you back in time to Kamar Taj. And then…”

“What do you mean first?” Silver Fox asked Strange. “You said we’d send back Soul first.”

“If Soul comes to Earth, that means one day Thanos will, too. It will spell the beginning of the end, once more,” Strange explained.

That… was a problem. “Right,” Tony said. “So how do we fix that. Edward’s right. We have our own universes to protect.”

“The Tony and Stephen of this universe,” Vincent said quietly. “They need to go back, don’t they?”

“Yes,” Time said quietly. “They need to go back. Obadiah Stane needs to live. The path will correct itself from there.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Tony asked. “We’re talking bombs to the chest.”

“And car accidents off a cliff,” Silver Fox added. “Those aren’t things that come with a guarantee.”

“That is a risk that da Vinci and McDreamy have to take,” Strange said. “But the world’s not ready, and it needs to be. It needs them to be.”

Tony stared at him, trying to take in the words and what they meant. He wondered, if he were da Vinci, if he would make that choice.

Da Vinci and McDreamy had trusted them to save their world. But now… now they were all putting it back on their shoulders.

The weight of the world would be on them, now.

“We have to give them the choice,” Edward said. “It’s the end of the world. We did what we could. We cleansed the stones. But it’s… it’s not enough. It didn’t matter.”

“It did,” Time said. “It was a necessity, should this work. Soul needed to be saved. Needed to be freed. We all did. This was the only way that could happen.”

Well, at least the whole thing hadn’t been for nothing.

Now, to convince McDreamy and da Vinci to upend their own futures, to rewrite their own pasts. They had seen the rest of them. Tony had seen their faces, the fear of what could have been, the gratitude that it wasn’t them… and now they had to choose whether to let it be.

Chapter Text

Stephen “McDreamy” Strange—Earth-1487, Stark Tower—Earth-1487

Stephen couldn’t move. He watched, apprehension a heavy weight curled around his shoulders, as the Ancient One once again attempted to awaken the group of Stone Wielders.

Tony paced behind him, muttering under his breath. Something to do with gamma radiation and health measures, which meant that Bruce Banner had likely sent his newest data over for how to help heal those who’d gotten sick over the past few months, and Tony was using it to distract himself.

If this worked, then the stones would stop their attack on the universe, but they still had to deal with the aftermath.

Across the room, the woman named Gamora sat still as stone, gaze alert as she took everyone in.

Stephen watched her warily. In the immediate aftermath of Stark Raving sending his soul into the Infinity Stone’s plane of existence, she had been… vocal about needing to return to her own universe to stop someone named Thanos.

There had been a dagger.

The Ancient One had been mostly unbothered by the threats and had promised that when she returned Stark Raving and Stranger Danger to their universe, that she would temporarily bind Gamora to them, so that she could make it back as well.

Gamora had settled after that, though she continued to watch everything with razor sharp eyes.

Behind her, Loki paced in much the same fashion that Tony did behind Stephen. Loki’s gaze flicked from Blue Eyes to Silver Fox as he went, back and forth. Between that and the pacing, Stephen was honestly surprised he hadn’t gotten dizzy, yet.

The moments seemed to drag, if Stephen didn’t know better, he’d think he was caught in another time loop, the same few seconds over and over, marked only by the back and forth of Loki and Tony’s steps.

Stephen… Stephen just wanted this to be over. Wanted the threat to be gone. Wanted his life to return to normal.

A shuddering gasp—six heaving breaths in unison—cut through the air.

Stephen jerked to attention.

On their seats on the couch, each of the stone wielders was sitting up. They looked exhausted.

“Tony, Stephen.” Loki moved first, making it to Blue Eyes’ and Silver Fox’s side immediately. “Are you all right?”

“Just fine, Lokes,” Blue Eyes muttered. “Ended up being a piece of cake.”

“We’re fine,” Silver Fox agreed. Silver Fox’s gaze flickered toward where Stephen sat and Tony paced. Something like regret crossed his face. “The stones are cleansed.”

A chill ran down Stephen’s spine.

“It’s fixed?” Tony asked from behind him. Relief infused his words. “The universe is going to be fine?”

No one answered.

Dread twisted in Stephen’s chest. “It’s done, right?” he asked. “You’ve fixed it?”

“Not that simple,” Edward said quietly. “We were too late.”

“Too late?” the Ancient One repeated. She fell slowly to her seat. Her face, already so pale, seemed waxen. It was the most expression Stephen had seen on her face, and it was one of desolation.

“I’m sorry,” Stranger Danger said. “But… it was too late the moment Thanos of this universe retrieved the soul stone. Before, even, when Soul… when Soul was abandoned to the darkness.”

Stark Raving flinched.

The Ancient One nodded, slow and heavy. “I see.” Her gaze went distant. “I suppose I should return you all to your universes. If you will just give me… give me a moment.”

Stephen was struggling to understand what was going on. Too late. Too late. It couldn’t be too late.

This was their universe. They couldn’t be bound for a slow unraveling. They couldn’t.

“It’s not that simple,” Stark Raving said. He sounded tired. His gaze fixed on Stephen and Tony. “There’s… There’s a way to fix it.”

“You just said you couldn’t,” Tony demanded. “Which is it!?”

“We can’t,” Vincent said quietly. “We cleansed the stones, and by doing so now, they are cleansed in the past and in the future. But the unraveling has already started. You can fix this.”

Stephen stared at each of them in turn, trying to make sense of what they were saying. They all looked… tired, with regret in their eyes and understanding lining their face.

“What do you mean?” Stephen asked. The words came out nothing more than a whisper.

“Time travel,” Stranger Danger answered. “You and da Vinci need to go back in time, back to when Obadiah Stane was alive.”

Obie. They’d said… they’d said that Obie had tried to kill Tony. That that had put Tony on a path that Stephen still didn’t understand. A path that had turned all of these Tony Starks into… into this.

“We’d heal him from the cancer,” Silver Fox continued. “Get da Vinci’s path back on track.”

Stephen’s hands trembled. “And mine?” he asked. “My path?”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t do what they were suggesting.

“We’re not sure how,” Edward said. “But the ripple effects… at some point that car crash will happen. We don’t know when or how. Stephen, Silver Fox, and Stranger Danger all experienced the car crash at different points. We don’t know when it will happen for you.”

A car crash.

Stephen’s hands.

Everything gone.

“No,” Stephen said. “No. We know what we need to know. Why would that be necessary? We know enough. We can change things without… without Obie or a car crash. We don’t need to go through any of that. We know enough.”

Stark Raving shook his head. “You won’t, though. You make this choice, and you choose to go back without your memories. For you it will be as though it were the first time.”

Fear coalesced in his chest. They would take his memories, abandon him in the past where he’d lose everything.

“We’re not going to force you,” Edward said. His tone was a little wry, as though he knew just what Stephen was thinking. But then, maybe Edward did. He was Mind’s Champion, after all. “This is your universe. It’s your choice.”

“Can you… does it have to be both of us?” Tony asked.

Stephen jerked to look at Tony. Tony’s expression was pained.

“Tony,” he whispered.

Stark Raving shrugged. “We send one of you and the ripple effects will happen whether or not the other one of you goes back. But… but if only one of you goes, then only one of you will remember when the time comes.”

“Remember?”

Stark Raving tapped his finger against his knee. “When you reach today’s date in the new timeline, you’ll remember everything. You’ll remember your choice to go back. You’ll remember what you gave up.”

Would that make it better or worse?

Stephen didn’t know.

“I’ll do it,” Tony said. Stephen’s gaze flashed to Tony. Tony was trembling. “But, but there’s got to be a way to protect Stephen. He gets to keep… He gets to keep his hands. I’ll do it… I’ll do it myself.”

Stephen’s heart shattered in his chest.

“We can’t guarantee that,” Silver Fox said quietly. “We’ll start the wheels in motion, what happens after that happens as a natural consequence of the decisions you make. We’ll be in our own universes.”

Stephen stared at Tony. His hands were clenched tight, and he was holding himself stiffly. Tony looked terrified, but determined. Stephen couldn’t leave him to do this alone.

“One condition,” Stephen said. “We met while Obie was still alive.” He looked at Stranger Danger, he was Time’s wielder, no doubt he’d be the one most in control of the situation. “Send us back to after we meet. Make sure we already have each other.”

“It’s not necessarily that precise,” Stranger Danger said. “It’s the rewriting of time and reality. Silver Fox and I will be doing our best to keep you both alive. A precise date is difficult to hit.”

Stephen clenched his jaw. “We need each other,” he said, “if we’re going to make this work. He’s my soulmate.”

Because Stephen would lose his hands. The fate of the three Stephens in front of him seemed to guarantee that.

But… But he didn’t have to lose everything.

If he had Tony… if he had Tony than maybe he wouldn’t.

“Stephen,” Tony said quietly. “You don’t—”

“You’re going back,” Stephen said. He could see it in Tony’s eyes.

Tony had fought for months, now, to figure out how to protect their world. Now… now he had a chance to stop it from ever happening and Tony was going to take it. He was going to risk everything to… to become like the Tonys in front of him.

And then, when they reached today, Tony would remember. He would remember that Stephen left him to do it alone.

Stephen… Stephen couldn’t.

He couldn’t leave Tony to do it alone.

His hands still trembled. Fear tight in his chest.

Tony looked away. “There’s one problem,” Tony said. “How are we going to stop the soul stone from being corrupted again? You said that you’d cleansed it? Now, in the past, and in the future? Will it stay cleansed in this new timeline?”

The Tonys and Stephens shared looks, before looking at the Ancient One. “In our universe Kamar Taj protects a stone,” Vincent said. “McDreamy and da Vinci won’t be alone in going back. We’re sending the soul stone back, too. Though we don’t know when to. Perhaps as far back as Agamotto, perhaps merely within your lifetime.”

The Ancient One nodded. “Kamar Taj will protect it,” she said quietly. Her gaze was piercing. “There is something more?”

“On any path that Stephen Strange becomes a Master of the Mystic Arts,” Silver Fox started slowly. “You die. Not immediately, sometimes not for years. But we…”

Stephen was startled by the sheer relief that crossed the Ancient One’s face. “I had wondered,” she said quietly. “That is not something I fear. Infinity is a long time to live.” Her gaze flickered over the group of Stone Wielders; there was a flicker of regret in her eyes.

“That didn’t answer my question,” Tony said, distracting from the news of the Ancient One’s eventual demise. “So, the soul stone is going to be here on earth. How are we getting it in the first place to send it there?”

“We already have it,” Stark Raving said. He lifted both hands, opening first one and than the other. A soul stone shone in each hand. “It destroyed the person who found it and corrupted it. Without someone to wield it, like called to like. The soul stone found me.”

That was convenient, Stephen couldn’t help but think. But given the future—past—in store for him, he could accept some convenience.

“We do not have much time,” Gamora interrupted. “We must return to our own universe. You must act now.”

Stephen looked at Tony. His heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to back out. He wished he could keep his own memories, that he could know what was in store.

But that wasn’t an option.

“You don’t have to do this, Stephen,” Tony said.

“I won’t remember when I do,” Stephen pointed out. “Not until it’s all over.”

“For what it’s worth,” Vincent said quietly. “For all the pain… I wouldn’t choose differently.”

“No,” Stranger Danger and Silver Fox agreed. “We had the opportunity to leave,” Silver Fox continued. “A way to get our lives back. We chose to stay. To become what we have.”

Stephen swallowed hard. His hands trembled.

They’d made that choice, but Stephen couldn’t conceive of a world where he made the same.

He couldn’t do this. The thought weighed him down. He looked up and met Tony’s eyes.

But he had to.

“All right,” he said. Nausea dug a pit in his gut. “Send us back.”

Tony’s hands found his shoulder, his thumb brushed across Stephen’s neck, a soft brush against his soul mark that sent warmth through them.

“After we’ve met,” Stephen added. “Please.”

“We’ll try,” Stranger Danger said. “But this really isn’t a precise science.” He looked at the Ancient One. “We’ll have maybe five minutes after they get sent back in time to when this universe remakes itself. “You’ll need to get us all back to our universes before that happens or it’s going to get really messy.

The Ancient One nodded. “I am prepared.”

“Stranger Danger,” Silver Fox said, standing. “You help me with the initial spell. “Edward, Stark Raving, you need to be a part of this too, their souls and minds from this time period need to… sleep, for lack of a better word.” The three all stood.

“Vincent, your power will help,” Stranger Danger added. “Give us a boost.”

“I suppose I get to do nothing?” Blue Eyes asked.

“Space and time,” Stranger Danger said. “In this case we have need for both.”

Stephen couldn’t breathe. Thought he might hyperventilate. This was moving too quickly. He needed more time.

But the six were already talking, defining what everyone would do. Stephen stood, pacing away. His breath came fast and short.

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t walk this path.

A hand found his own. Stephen turned to find Tony behind him. His eyes were soft, but there was real fear in them.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said quietly. “I’m sorry that everything… I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. That we… that we have to make this choice. That you have to make this choice.”

Stephen huffed a laugh. “You apparently are signing up to get blown up. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one in for hell.”

Fear flickered in Tony’s eyes. “Yeah, not looking forward to that. But hey, the others made it. And they all got cool stones out of it. Maybe I will, too.”

“In it for the jewels?” Stephen asked.

“You know me,” Tony said; the corner of his lip twitched up in a teasing smile. “I like the finer things in life.”

Stephen glanced at Stark Raving, the six were in the process of figuring out how to send the soul stone back in time. Would that be his stone? Would he wield it the way Silver Fox wielded Reality, Stranger Danger wielded Time, and Vincent wielded Power?

It was hard to imagine.

He was just a doctor.

His gaze flickered to Tony’s neck, where the decorative eye stood in gold on his neck.

Except, it was the path that he had, perhaps, always been meant to walk. He could see the signs of it on Tony’s skin.

Stephen wasn’t sure he believed in fate, but it felt terrifyingly real in this moment.

There was a flash of light. Stephen looked back to see that the second soul stone had vanished.

“Quick,” Stranger Danger snapped. “Even that change is enough to start unraveling things. We need to get the two of you sent back now and then the Ancient One will send us all back to our universes as well.”

There wasn’t enough time.

But Stephen didn’t have the luxury of any more.

“We’re ready,” Tony said.

Stephen wasn’t sure if it was true, but there was no other option. He clung to Tony’s hand tightly.

The six stone wielders surrounded them on every side.

The Ancient One, Loki, and Gamora all stood off to the side, watching.

Red flickered out first, tendrils wrapping around their wrists. Orange and yellow followed. Stephen felt the world starting to go hazy, strange. His thoughts seemed to be slowing. Green and blue followed. The world around him wasn’t real now. He was somewhere, somewhen, else altogether. The last thing he saw was purple join the sea of colors wrapped around him.

It was as easy as falling asleep.

Tony “da Vinci” Stark—Earth-1487, La Cabra Coffee

“Yes, Obie,” he parroted obediently into his phone as he made his way down the sidewalk to the coffee shop down the street. “Yes, yes. I know.” Obie continued on his lecture about how Tony needed to be focused, apparently the work Tony had put into the robotics division the last two months had been a ‘waste of time’ when the military wanted the newest weapons on the table pronto. Tony rolled his eyes.

Tony had a whole team of weapons developers. Tony didn’t know why he needed to personally do everything.

He pulled open the door to the coffee shop that Pepper had told him served the best coffee in Manhattan. The line was long, nearly to the door, which probably meant that the coffee was just as good as Pepper had claimed.

But it also meant he was stuck waiting in line for who knew how long.

“Fine,” he said, interrupting Obie as he started to repeat himself. “I’ll put in some work tonight.” Pepper would probably be hearing about this as soon as he got off the call with Obie, meaning he wouldn’t even be able to get out of it.

He sighed, as Obie started on another spiel about responsibility. “Bye, Obie,” he said. He hung up the phone before Obie could say anything else.

He shoved his phone into his pocket, looking around. The place was nice. Wide windows that let in the light and nice, comfortable looking booths against the walls. Most of them were full, already.

The door opened behind him and someone joined the line behind him. Tony shuffled forward a little to get a little space.

The line, at least, moved quickly. The baristas behind the counter quick and efficient, even as they laughed and joked with each other.

His phone rang again. Tony pulled it out to see Obie’s number. He flipped his phone open then flipped it shut again, cutting off the call. That was going to irritate Obie, but Tony had already said he’d get the weapons schematics in tonight.

“You know,” came a voice behind him. Tony turned. “Most people consider that bad manners.”

Tony took in the man in front of him; he was clearly a health care professional of some sort, dressed in a pair of scrubs. He looked tired, as though he’d just gotten off the night shift. He was a little taller than Tony, with darker hair and eyes that couldn’t seem to decide what color they wanted to be, a kaleidoscope of blues and greens.

Tony’s heart pounded inexplicably in his chest.

“Yeah,” he said. “Bad manners are sort of what I do.” He licked his lips. “Name’s Tony.”

“Stephen,” the man told him.

Stephen. Something in Tony’s chest went warm.

“Have we met?” Tony asked. Because… Because he could swear. But surely, if he’d met Stephen before he’d remember. Something about Stephen… no, Tony would remember if he’d met him before.

So why did some part of Tony insist he knew this man?

“No,” Stephen said. There was something in his tone, though, that said that he wasn’t entirely sure if that was true, either. “I have an impeccable memory. I’d remember.”

The line moved forward and Tony took a step back to keep with it, not turning away from Stephen.

“I’m very memorable,” Tony said. “So I’m sure that’s true.”

Stephen’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Oh yes, I’m going to remember you as the person who couldn’t be bothered to answer the phone.”

“Obie can be pushy,” Tony said automatically. “It’s for my own sanity, I assure you.”

His gaze flicked to Stephen’s neck. The soul mark there was faint, barely visible. Not gold.

Stephen was unmatched.

Tony couldn’t see it well enough to know if the symbol was at all recognizable. He forced his eyes away. What was he doing? He didn’t scope out potential soulmates. He found the whole thing ridiculous.

But something about Stephen…

Why did Tony feel as though he knew him?

“Something tells me that the people who deal with you would say something similar,” Stephen said. “You seem like you’d be trying on the sanity.”

Tony laughed. “I’ve gotten a few complaints,” he agreed. “It takes a special sort of soul to put up with me.”

His gaze flicked to Stephen’s neck again and the soul mark there. He forced his gaze back to Stephen’s own. Was it his imagination or was Stephen’s gaze on Tony’s neck as well?

The line moved forward again. Tony was next.

Something anxious twisted in his chest. Time was running out.

They would leave this coffee shop and never see each other again, and Tony would never know why this stranger felt like someone to come home to.

He’d read the soulmate literature. Everyone agreed there were no signs like this, that there was no way to know before soulmates touched.

So why did Tony feel this way?

The person at the front of the line was finishing their order. The moment was almost over.

On instinct he held out his hand.

Stephen stared at it for a moment, but then he reached out and took it.

Warmth rushed through him.

On Stephen’s neck, the soul mark suddenly glowed gold, brightening the air around him, warm and beckoning. He could feel his own mark heat.

There were sounds around them, people letting out cheers and congratulations. It was always a bit of a hubbub when soulmates found each other like this. There would no doubt be pictures in the news by the end of the day.

Tony couldn’t concentrate on any of it. All he could do was look up at Stephen. The world seemed to shift into place, a dissonance he hadn’t known he felt righting itself.

He couldn’t help but smile, an infectious sort of giddiness taking over. “Hey Stephen. It’s nice to meet you.”

Chapter Text

Tony Stark: The Champion of Mind—Earth-7001, New York Sanctum—Earth-7001

“Well,” Tony said as he gathered his balance back together. “That was… fun.”

Stephen sighed. They were in the same position they’d been in when they’d left their universe. Stephen’s arms wrapped around him as they stood in the sanctum foyer.

“What was fun?” came Wong’s voice from behind them, a sign that some small amount of time must have passed while they were in that other universe. Though Tony didn’t think it had quite been a perfect equivalent. They’d been in the other universe for over two hours, and in the infinity’s domain for…. longer.

Tony buried his face in Stephen’s shoulder, letting Stephen explain to Wong what had happened.

He was tired and the thoughts of the world around him were whispers in the back of his mind, louder than normal.

He tuned back in as Wong lectured Stephen on being more careful about leaving their reality.

Stephen managed to sound only vaguely annoyed. “I told you, Wong, I didn’t have a choice. The stakes were too high to ignore.”

Wong sighed. “I know,” he said, and he sounded almost apologetic. “But it makes the others uneasy to have a sanctum missing. We need you here, Stephen.”

Tony could feel Stephen’s tension ease, just a little. “I know,” Stephen said. “I would not have gone if there had not been a need. Neither of us would have.”

Tony could feel Wong’s unhappiness, the thoughts brushing against his mind. Doesn’t he realize how important he is? We cannot lose him.

Tony tried to bolster his shields, but it was difficult.

He would be tender mentally for the next few days. He always was after using the mind stone, and he’d had extensive exposure to it in the last few hours.

Wong didn’t say anything else, though, disappearing down a hallway and taking his thoughts with him.

“The Ancient One never had the opportunity to teach me that spell she used on Stark Raving,” Stephen said; he must have picked up on Tony’s vulnerability. He’d always been good at that. “But I certainly saw her perform it enough times. I think I’ll be able to figure it out. Just give me a little bit of time.” Stephen’s arms tightened around Tony.

“You do enough,” Tony said quietly.

He felt Stephen wrap a layer of power around him, adding his shields to Tony’s own as he did so.

Need more? Stephen asked via their bond.

Tony shook his head. No, that helped.

Stephen pressed a kiss to the side of his head and Tony felt a second brush of power anyways as Stephen added another thin layer of protection.

He didn’t need it, but Stephen’s protection always helped him feel… safe.

“Do you think they’re going to be okay?” Tony asked.

“Which ones?” Stephen asked, a little wry. “The ones we just sent back in time to face over a decade of pain and suffering? Or maybe the ones who are currently in a fight for their lives against Thanos? The others… the others seemed to have actually been in a good position, so they’re probably fine.”

Tony hummed. Blue Eyes and Silver Fox really did seem to have made it in their universe. Though the whole ‘Loki’ thing was still weird. The balance he and Stephen had was perfect, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like making it work with someone else.

But hey, not his life, not his concern.

He and Stephen were doing just fine.

“I think they’ll be okay,” Tony said, answering his own question. He thought of da Vinci and McDreamy, their hands linked as they fell back in time, knowing that what awaited them would hurt and knowing that they could do nothing to stop it. “They have each other.”

“That does seem to be enough,” Stephen agreed. “Hopefully Stranger Danger and Stark Raving figure that out, too.”

“They will,” Tony said. Though he wasn’t sure if it was true. He had to hope it was. “Do you think Thanos is coming for us?” Tony asked. “We had a New York invasion, and he came for both those other universes.” Once upon a time the return of that invading force had haunted him. Since then, he’d been given far worse things to terrorize his dreams.

It probably hadn’t been good to forget those first nightmares, though. Not when they spoke of a threat that they needed to be prepared for.

At least now Tony wasn’t alone.

“Maybe,” Stephen said. “Probably, even. I imagine it will be soon.”

“We should warn Wong,” Tony said. “You know how much he loves it when we throw problems on his doorstep and tell him to handle them.”

“His own fault for becoming Sorcerer Supreme,” Stephen said with a sniff of superiority. “He could have let Master Minoru take the position.”

There was no longer bitterness in Stephen’s voice when he said the words. For a long time, everyone had thought that Stephen would become the Sorcerer Supreme should the Ancient One die. Stephen becoming one of earth’s Sanctums had rather put a stop to that, had changed Stephen’s course entirely.

“I’ll let him know just how much compassion you have for him,” Tony said. He sighed and pulled back from Stephen’s arms. He was so tired.

“Nap?” Stephen asked quietly. His gaze drifted over Tony’s face, and Tony was sure he was seeing every inch of exhaustion that weighed Tony down.

“Come with me?” Tony asked. He… he didn’t want to be alone right now, but the exhaustion was heavy. He’d have nightmares, he knew. His encounter with Mind would bring Ultron to the surface.

“I could use a nap,” Stephen agreed.

Tony knew Stephen wouldn’t sleep, would likely just read in bed. Stephen didn’t need sleep the way a normal human did, anymore.

His presence would be enough, though.

They made their way through the sanctum, climbing into the large bed they shared.

“What did you see?’ Tony asked as he settled against Stephen’s side. As he’d expected, Stephen had already grabbed a book, resting it on his lap. “When you faced the power stone?”

“The Ancient One,” Stephen said quietly. “She packed quite the punch. It was strange, lecturing her about morality and the responsibilities of power.” There was a look in Stephen’s eyes that said it had been more than just a lecture.

Stephen would tell him in time.

Still, Tony laughed, trying to imagine Stephen lecturing the Ancient One. “Yeah, I imagine that’d be weird.”

“What about you?” Stephen asked. “What did you see?”

Tony’s humor faded. “I saw Ultron,” he said quietly. “Me.”

Stephen didn’t answer immediately. He rested a hand in Tony’s hair. Tony relaxed as Stephen started petting, soft and gentle. “You cleansed the stone,” Stephen reminded him. “It didn’t stop you.”

“No,” Tony said. “I suppose it didn’t.” He could feel the Mind stone in his chest, a pulsing weight within the arc reactor.

Someday, maybe, it would stop feeling like a curse.

Not today.

But someday.

“I’m going to sleep,” Tony said quietly.

“I’ll watch your dreams,” Stephen told him. “No nightmares. Not this time.”

Tony hummed, burrowing into Stephen’s side. A thought occurred to him, just as he was near sleep. “Hey, when I wake up, we should see if we can find that Gap Junction place.” He yawned. “The Book of Vishanti. I’d bet anything that’d come in handy some time.”

Stephen laughed. “Go to sleep, Tony. We can deal with the multiverse tomorrow.”

Tony Stark: The Defender of Space—Earth-344898, Stark Mansion—Earth-344898

“I swear,” Loki said, pacing in front of them. “If the two of you ever do something so hare-brained again, I will not be responsible for what I do.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at that. He was exhausted and was leaning most of his weight against Stephen, who was likewise mostly slumped against Tony. “I’m sorry, at what point in that whole situation did it look like we really had any other choice? We were pulled from this universe without our say so, and then there was another universe on the brink of being destroyed. We didn’t have any better options.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at them. “Hare-brained,” he repeated. “Who is to say you wouldn’t have found another way to protect their universe before flinging your souls into other planes of existence? If I had not followed you into that universe, you would have been trapped there by Soul until their world ended, unable to leave.”

Tony winced. Yeah, he tried not to think about how lucky they’d gotten that Loki and Stark Raving had managed to cross through the multiverse and back to Stark Raving’s universe to find his soul stone.

He was still missing a whole lot of information about how it had all worked out, but it clearly had, which was all that was important.

“We’re grateful,” Stephen said, tone edged with sarcasm. “That you are as difficult to get rid of as a parasite from the Margovian dimension.”

Loki let out an offended gasp. “Did you just call me a parasite?”

Stephen shrugged. “I might have drawn a likeness.”

Loki tilted his nose up in a sneer. “See if I save you next time,” he said snottily. “Perhaps I would be better off without you.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Remind me… who was it that just helped you save Asgard a few hours ago?” And god, it felt so much longer, but Tony preferred not to think about the time in between. “I think we’re even.”

Loki made a face at that. “Well—”

“Loki,” Stephen said. “Tony and I are exhausted.” Honestly, Tony was surprised that Loki wasn’t given what he’d managed today. He’d torn his way through the multiverse twice. “Come sit down. Cuddle. Try to relax. We had a mulitversal adventure and we’re all still alive. It’s a win.”

Loki sighed, but fell onto the couch on the other side of Stephen.

For a long moment the three of them just sat there in silence, calm and comfortable.

“I saw the Book of Vishanti,” Loki said, breaking the silence.

Stephen went sharp and alert, jerking to attention, all exhaustion disappearing into nothingness. “You what?”

Tony groaned, because there went his pillow. He forced himself straight. Stephen was staring at Loki with hungry eyes. Loki was smirking.

Loki shrugged almost carelessly; it didn’t for a moment hide how smug he was. “In order to find Stark Raving’s universe we needed to travel through the Gap Junction. The Book of Vishanti was there.”

“The Book of Vishanti,” Stephen whispered. “It’s real.” His eyes glinted with eagerness. “Can you get us there again?”

Loki paused, some of his smugness dissipating. “I do not have an energy signature to follow,” he admitted. “I would not be able to find it easily.”

Stephen frowned for moment, before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. We know the book is real now, we know that it’s in the Gap Junction which has to be connected to our universe somehow. That’s enough to get started.”

Tony groaned. “I thought we were relaxing?” he asked. “Wasn’t that what we were doing? Relaxing? Enjoying our well-earned victories? Are we really going to get over-excited about a book?”

Stephen sent him an unimpressed look. “The Book of Vishanti, Tony.”

Tony sent him his own unimpressed look back. “Yes, exactly. The Book of Vishanti, Stephen. Book was the key word.”

“It resides in the space between universes,” Loki pointed out.

Tony paused, because that… that was something he really did need to see with his own eyes. “All right, fine, I’m in.” Cuddles were better than distractions, but distractions beat out sleep. So he supposed it evened itself out. “Let’s find this Gap Junction and the magic, fairytale book inside of it.”

“Thought you’d see it our way,” Loki said.

Stephen didn’t bother responding, he was already on his feet, reaching for his sling ring. “Well?” he prodded. “Are you two coming? We have research to do.”

Tony sighed. He really had been hoping to relax after a really, really long day. But apparently that wasn’t happening.

He followed Loki and Stephen.

Between the three of them, it was only a matter of time before they found the Gap Junction.

Tony Stark: The Steward of Soul—Earth-19999, Titan—Earth-19999

In the end, it was almost easy.

Strange froze time around them, the world turning still and silent. The Guardians and Peter were frozen in place. Mouths opens in aborted yells, all stuck in their desperate position of trying to fight Thanos.

Thanos was still moving, slow and sluggish as Reality glowed red as it tried to counteract Strange’s efforts and keep Thanos from falling prey to Time’s machinations.

Tony clutched the Soul stone in his hand and faced Thanos. He closed his eyes and looked. Instead of darkness, he could see the flickers of soul surrounding him.

Like candlelight, bright against the empty canvas of Titan.

Thanos’ was in front of him, his soul bright and fierce in its conviction, a flame in the night sky.

In the end, it was as simple as blowing out a candle.

Thanos was gone.

Explanations followed. Quill needed to know how they’d saved Gamora. Peter wanted answers to where Tony and Strange had disappeared.

Tony gave the answers he could, trying to keep the exhaustion from his voice as Peter exclaimed about how cool that was, wondering if there was a bunch of Peter Parkers out there and if any of them were stone wielders.

Tony just nodded along and watched as Strange surreptitiously shifted the gauntlet carrying the stones into another plane of existence. He’d deal with that later. Strange, he was pretty sure, wasn’t about to do anything stupid with them.

Not long after that, Strange got them home, the nifty ring he carried with him making it as easy as a wave of his hand. Tony didn’t like magic, as a matter of course—and he wasn’t sure if his latest adventure had warmed him to magic or made him hate it more—but he had to admit that was very, very convenient.

In the aftermath, Tony ended up back in the sanctum Strange had brought him to only just that morning.

“So,” he said.

Strange stood a few feet away, hands behind his back as he watched Tony with shuttered eyes. It was clear that he carried some apprehension about how this conversation would go. Now that he had Soul, Tony could sense the bond still between him and Strange, a thin string that had anchored Strange to reality as he’d walked the paths of time. Strange had said it would fade, eventually. But for now it lingered. A second, fainter bond stretched out from both him and Strange to wherever Gamora was. A necessity, the Ancient One had explained, to bring Gamora back to their own universe. It would fade even quicker. “So,” Strange repeated, tone utterly dry. “Very eloquent, Tony.”

Tony rolled his eyes. Someone had needed to start the conversation. No one had said it needed to be eloquent.

He held up the soul stone. He’d barely let it go in the hours—he wasn’t counting his stint in that other place—since he’d retrieved it. The ridges of the stone were indented into the skin of his palm and fingers. It didn’t exactly feel like the sort of thing he could just leave laying around, and he didn’t exactly have anywhere safe to put it, yet. “Pretty sure this is way outside my skillset. I was hoping you could help explain some of what this ‘stone wielder’ nonsense means.”

“It’s hardly nonsense,” Strange said, but he sounded more amused than offended.

Tony rolled his eyes. Because, no, this whole thing had been one bit of nonsense after the other; it just happened to be nonsense he couldn’t get away from.

“But I can explain, yes,” Strange continued. “You’ll be pleased to hear that, so long as you’re not facing genocidal maniacs, that it’s rather straightforward.”

Tony was pleased to hear that. He would really like to keep the complications in his life to a minimum.

He suspected, however, that his next question would not have quite so easy an answer.

“There’s something else I was hoping you could explain,” Tony said. He swallowed hard, steeling himself. “About my sacrifice… When I threw myself off that cliff, I should have died.”

“You likely did,” Strange said quietly. “At least in some sense.”

Tony didn’t feel dead. But… but there was something different, he just hadn’t figured out what, yet. Partially, because he was too afraid to look. “A soul for a soul,” Tony said. “What does that mean when it doesn’t kill me?”

Strange looked away. “I’m sure you’ve guessed.”

Tony had his suspicions; Strange’s answer seemed a confirmation of them. “My soul is bound to the soul stone now, isn’t it? I’m…” He took a deep breath. “It’s not going to be as easy as dying, is it?”

What had Soul said? Death is so easy… At some point it is no longer a tragedy.

And the other Soul? The lonely soul of that other universe? What had infinity done to it? It had broken Soul down, shattered it.

Was that what lay in wait for Tony?

“You are, functionally, immortal,” Strange acknowledged quietly. “Your soul belongs to Soul now. You are no longer the wielder of the Soul stone for a mere mortal lifespan.”

Fear twisted in his chest. He’d wondered, but there’d been enough else on his plate that he hadn’t pursued the thought further; now he had no choice.

“I’m going to be alone, aren’t I?” The words came out almost a whisper. He could feel the dark loneliness on the edge of his senses. The darkness that had swallowed him whole when he’d been trapped in Soul’s domain. The darkness that had destroyed Soul. Was that his future?

What would Pepper say when he told her the truth? It was an answer he wasn’t sure he was ready for, even though he knew it was a conversation he wasn’t allowed to delay.

Strange looked back at him, regret in his eyes. “For what it’s worth, the things I have done with the Time stone… I have gone far past what I should have been able to. The effects… it has elongated my own life to the point that…” Strange didn’t finish, just nodded. Relief twisted through Tony’s chest. He didn’t really know Strange, but he thought he could probably like him, once he got to know him. Hell, other versions of him had loved other versions of Strange. Tony didn’t see that happening here, but surely they could be friends? Right? Neither of them would have to be alone. The darkness didn’t have to consume either of them. “And from what Time showed me…” Strange sighed. “I saw the others; the Time stone showed me glimpses of what awaited them. None of them are truly mortal, now. Death will not be an easy thing for any of us.”

It was a haunting thought.

Tony tried to smile and hoped he didn’t fail too badly. “We should form a support group.”

Strange snorted. “I don’t think we want to be traversing the multiverse quite that often.”

Tony waved a hand. “Nah, we can all meet in the middle. The Gap Junction. I bet anything that the others are already trying to find it.” Tony hadn’t started running any equations to try to find it—yet, at least. But he had plans to. He really hadn’t had the opportunity to appreciate the absurdity of the place during his and Loki’s adventure, much less explore.

It was the space between universes. Exploring was definitely something he had to do.

Tony could see a spark of interest in Strange’s eyes. “It would be a useful thing to know,” he said. The tone of his voice meant that it wasn’t just the ‘usefulness’ of the matter that Strange was interested in.

Tony grinned at him. “Want to help me find it?”

Strange smiled back. “I thought you’d never ask.”