Chapter Text
Tony Stark had accepted death. It was a gentle thought in the back of his mind, a fact that killed him more than anything.
He wanted so desperately to hold Morgan one last time, to kiss her forehead and love her three-thousand and play superheroes at their lake house. He wanted to embrace Pepper, wake her up with breakfast-in-bed and spend the rest of his days with her. Hell, he wanted to listen to Peter's rambles and watch corny movies with him, ruffle his kid's hair and be there for his graduation. He wanted to play video games with Happy and race Rhodey to their favorite restaurant and back.
Tony wasn't ready to die.
But when Dr. Strange held up his finger, the number one as clear as day, Tony knew what he needed to do. He understood how it was the one future that would be their victory, the one timeline they would defeat Thanos.
As he wrestled the infinity stones away from the alien, all he was thinking about was his two kids. Peter and Morgan. They deserved a life that Tony could promise, if he did the hard thing.
Thanos threw Tony back and straightened out the glove, looking at the puny human with distain.
"I, am, inventible," Thanos said with a tone of finality, snapping his gauntlet. The sound echoed throughout the battlefield, and the metallic clank sounded important...
But that was it.
No second blip or half-the-universe-wipeout.
"And I," Tony responded, holding up his hand with magic stones imbedded, glowing against his suit, "am... Iron Man."
Snap.
The feeling nearly tore Tony apart. It burned every inch of him alive, sorcery searing into his very bones, and Tony wanted to scream out in pain.
The next thing Stark remembered, he was sitting up against something. There was dust everywhere. Peter was crying, saying something, but Tony couldn't hear him. Something very dense was ringing in his ears.
Suddenly Pepper was in his line of vision, and Tony wanted to cry.
"Hey, Pep," he whispered. Damnit, I don't want to leave you. I'm so sorry.
"We're going to be okay," Pepper said, placing a gentle hand on his suit. "You can rest now."
Tony nodded, eyes half-lidded.
He didn't want to. He wasn't ready.
But shit, he was so tired.
Tony's body faded into dust, the only thing left being his ruined suit.
°°°
Tony jerked upwards. He was lying on grass, dirt smudged on his cheek. He sat up and blinked in the setting sun, wondering where the hell he was. He appeared to be in some sort of wilderness-clearing; there was a lake and a path, benches and a streetlamp. So definitely not my cabin.
He stood up shakily, his body feeling like lead. Like lead... but intact. He could still feel the snap's effects, scolding his body to cinders.
But Tony was whole, arms felt surprisingly good, and his legs were supporting him fine. Am I dead? Is this heaven?
A dog-walker then jogged by him, giving Tony a weird look.
"Why ya in the grass?" the man asked Tony rhetorically, after which, seeming to remember himself, continued down the gravel at a quicker pace than before.
Stark quickly hopped on the path and glanced around. There were no signs to figure out where he was... A national park? Was he in a national park?
Why the hell would he be in a national park? Shouldn't he be, you know, dead?
So Tony chose a direction and walked, feeling his body for something, anything. There was nothing in his pockets, nothing in the thin black shirt he was wearing.
He also had no shoes on; his white socks were being muddled by the grime in the path.
It was the outfit he had picked out right before he put on his Iron Man suit and fought Thanos.
The clothing he should've died in.
But now he was here. No suit, only the garments underneath.
"Where is here?" he asked to himself, feeling like an idiot. Was he dead?
The sun had nearly faded by then, and Tony's surroundings seemed to come alive with bugs and critters, rustling things and noisy animals that he didn't want to think about. The streetlights flickered on, casting a warm hue over the path.
Up ahead was a clearing, and Tony walked over with pace, trying not to panic. What happened?
He reached the opening in the woods and gasped, staring up at the Manhattan skyline. He hadn't been in a forest at all, but a park.
A park in central NYC.
Unable to contain himself, Tony responded in the only way that seemed appropriate.
"The fuck?!"
°°°
Tony walked a little more hesitantly, people shooting him weird looks as he passed. He lowered his gaze as someone elbowed their friend and discreetly--although Tony could see them clear as day--point at Tony's shoeless feet.
"This is why we stay in school," a particularly loud tourist whispered to her two small children as Tony passed, gawking at him like he was an animal at the zoo. "Or else you could end up like a crackhead on the streets."
Tony wanted to snap back a witty response but was in no mood to argue. He was wrung out and sore. All the guy wanted to do was find a phone and call Happy or Pepper.
He stopped at a newspaper station, rifling through the issues for the latest one. The guy in charge--a seedy man about seventy or so--took one look at Tony and sighed.
"Just take it, man," he said in a heavy New-Yorker accent.
Tony thanked him and found the latest newspaper, flipping to the front. Two things jumped out at him, both making him want to puke or pass out or scream until his lungs were sore.
~~~
October 7th, 2028
Five-year anniversary; Remembering Iron Man and his sacrifice
~~~
Tony started hyperventilating. He gripped his hair and flipped to the Iron Man section, reading in his head. Celebrate Iron Man, aka Anthony Edward Stark, on Oct. 7th as national Tony Stark Day. Stark, who gave up his life at the Battle Of Earth, is remembered globally as the hero who sacrificed himself for the fate of humankind.
Shit.
He was dead.
Well, he died a whole five fucking years ago.