May 27th - 2009
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When Stephen stepped through the portal and back into Tony's Malibu home, it was already late. Probably one or two in the morning. He wanted to ask for the time, but the familiar hum of JARVIS greeted him immediately, his calm, precise voice filling the air.
"Welcome back, Doctor Strange," JARVIS said smoothly. "Mr. Stark is awake and currently in the lab. He's been waiting for you."
Stephen sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Of course he has."
He descended the stairs to the lab, where the sight of Tony bent over his workbench greeted him. Tony was tinkering with a small piece of tech, his focus intense, but the moment Stephen entered, his sharp gaze flicked up.
Tony leaned back in his chair, setting down the screwdriver. "Okay, spill. What's got you so spooked? And don't tell me it's nothing. You've got that... 'haunted sorcerer' look again."
Stephen paused in the doorway, reluctant to speak. Finally, he stepped inside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "I spoke with the Ancient One," he began quietly.
"Uh-huh." Tony gestured for him to continue, his curiosity piqued. "And?"
Stephen exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And... I found out more than I anticipated. About this universe. About the people here. About the dangers."
Tony frowned, his expression sharpening. "Yeah? Such as?"
Stephen's gaze dropped momentarily before he straightened, meeting Tony's eyes. "There's a man. Mordo. He's a Master Sorcerer—or was. In this universe, he... killed the other version of me."
The weight of his words made Tony sit up straighter, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "Wait. What? Didn't he die in an accident? How come someone killed him now?"
Stephen nodded slowly. "Yes. Mordo was... jealous. The Ancient One had chosen the other me to succeed her, to take up the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme. Mordo couldn't accept that. He felt betrayed, overlooked, and he acted out of anger. He killed the man I replaced."
Tony let out a low whistle, his jaw tightening. "That's messed up. And where's this guy now? What's he doing?"
"That's the problem," Stephen said grimly. "No one knows. He disappeared after the murder, vanished without a trace. Not even the Ancient One can track him. She doesn't know what he's planning."
Tony rubbed his jaw, his expression dark. "Great. Another homicidal maniac running loose. Anything else you're holding back?"
Stephen hesitated, then sighed deeply. "I also ran into someone else. Kaecilius."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Another winner? What's his deal?"
Stephen looked away for a moment, trying to find the words. "He's... complicated. In this universe, he's younger. Just a disciple. Quiet, grieving. He's not yet the man I knew in my world."
Tony gave him a pointed look. "Which means what, exactly?"
Stephen shifted uncomfortably, his voice lower now. "In my universe, Kaecilius became one of the earliest, most dangerous threats I ever faced. His grief turned into anger, and that anger drove him to betray Kamar-Taj. He made a pact with Dormammu, the ruler of the Dark Dimension, and unleashed devastation. If the timeline here follows the same path, he will fall. And when he does, people will die. A lot of them."
Tony leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Jesus. You're just full of sunshine today, aren't you? So what's the plan? Are you going to stop him before he goes dark?"
Stephen's jaw tightened as he stared at the floor, conflicted. "I don't know. Part of me thinks I should just observe. Let things unfold as they're meant to."
Tony snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's not happening."
Stephen looked up sharply. "Excuse me?"
Tony leaned forward, pointing at him. "You suck at observing, Steph. You're literally the worst. You show up in this universe talking about 'not meddling,' and then you start saving people left and right, sticking your nose into everything. You're a walking contradiction."
Stephen's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't argue.
"So," Tony continued, shrugging, "why not just lean into it? If you're going to interfere—and let's be honest, you are—you might as well own it. Go big. Save as many people as you can while you're at it."
Stephen turned his head away, his expression distant. "It's not that simple, Anthony. If I interfere too much, I could destabilize this world's timeline. My very presence here is already causing ripples. What if I make things worse?"
Tony leaned back in his chair, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "What if you make them better? Look, I don't know this Mordo guy or this Kaecilius guy. Hell, I barely know your past. But I do know second chances when I see them. If you've got the power to change something, why the hell wouldn't you? If Kaecilius is going to fall, maybe you can catch him before he hits the ground. Maybe this time, things can be different."
Stephen's throat tightened at Tony's words. The sheer simplicity of his reasoning was maddening, yet... compelling.
"Besides," Tony added, smirking faintly, "you're already helping me. You've got your hands all over Kamar-Taj business. Face it, Steph. You're a meddler. It's who you are."
Stephen let out a tired laugh, shaking his head. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not," Tony admitted. "But you're already here, man. You're already in the fight. So stop overthinking and just... roll with it. You'll figure it out."
Stephen stared at him, Tony's words lingering in his mind. He wanted to argue, to push back, but deep down, he knew Tony was right. He couldn't just stand by and watch. Not anymore.
"Fine," Stephen said finally, his voice quiet but resolute. "I'll think about it."
Tony grinned. "That's all I'm asking. Just don't overthink it too much. Leave that to me."
Stephen rolled his eyes, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
"Damn right I am," Tony said, spinning his chair back to his workbench. "Now, while you're busy saving the world, I'm going to make sure my tech doesn't kill me again. Deal?"
"Deal," Stephen murmured, though his mind was already racing.
"Also, if anyone can do it, it's probably you, Mr. Time Wizard."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Stephen's mouth. "Time Wizard?"
"Yeah, well," Tony said with a smirk, "I was going to go with 'Mystic Moth,' but I thought you might get offended."
Stephen let out a quiet laugh, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "You're impossible, Anthony."
"Yeah, but you love me for it," Tony quipped, his grin widening.
Stephen rolled his eyes but didn't deny it. Instead, he stepped away from the wall and walked over to Tony's workbench, glancing at the half-finished projects scattered across it.
"Maybe you're right," Stephen said quietly. "Maybe I should stop running from this and take responsibility."
Tony grinned. "That's the spirit. Now, are we going to do this together, or do I have to babysit you through every mission?"
Stephen shot him a dry look. "I think you're confusing me with yourself."
Tony laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Whatever you say, Strange. Just don't forget to save the world, okay?"
Stephen's faint smile lingered as he nodded, the weight of his decision settling into place. Save as many as I can. One step at a time.
For better or worse, it seemed he wasn't done interfering. Not yet.
The silence between them stretched for a moment before Stephen finally cleared his throat, leaning against the wall of Tony's lab. "There's something else," he began, his tone careful, like he was testing the waters.
Tony raised an eyebrow, glancing up from the gadget he was tinkering with. "Something tells me this isn't about another killer sorcerer or angry disciple."
Stephen huffed softly, crossing his arms. "No, it's not. Well, not directly." He paused, hesitating just long enough to make Tony look at him fully. "I'm going to be officially proclaimed as a Master of the Order."
Tony blinked. "Master, huh? Sounds fancy. Does it come with a hat?"
Stephen rolled his eyes but allowed himself a small smirk. "No hat, unfortunately. Just... more responsibility."
Tony set his tools down, leaning back in his chair. "Responsibility, like what? Paperwork? Fighting evil wizards? Teaching magical stuff to apprentices?"
"Disciples," Stephen corrected instinctively, his tone dry. "But yes, something like that. The role involves taking on missions, teaching the younger disciples, and helping maintain the balance between dimensions."
Tony tilted his head, his curiosity clear. "So... you're basically becoming the magical equivalent of a professor-slash-SWAT officer?"
Stephen let out a short laugh. "That's... one way to put it."
Tony's grin widened. "And you're okay with this? You, the guy who's been running from responsibility like it's the plague?"
Stephen's smirk faded slightly, his expression turning more serious. "I didn't come here intending to take up this role, yes. But with everything I've seen, everything I know is coming—how can I not step up?" He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not like I can just sit on the sidelines anymore."
Tony studied him for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "So... what does that mean for you? For us? I mean, I assume this Master thing means you'll be busy. Saving the world. Wrangling magic students. Fighting interdimensional monsters."
"It does," Stephen admitted, his tone quieter now. "It means I won't be here as often."
Tony's mouth twitched downward, his expression briefly unreadable. "Ah. I see. So you're running off to be Hogwarts faculty while leaving me here to fend for myself, huh?"
Stephen shot him a dry look. "I'm not 'running off,' Anthony. I'll still visit. After all, someone has to drag you to bed when you've passed out in the lab."
Tony smirked, though there was a warmth in his gaze that softened his usual sarcasm. "Oh, yeah? You're going to stick around just to nag me about eating and sleeping?"
Stephen arched an eyebrow. "Nagging seems to be the only way to keep you alive. I'd rather be here than find you dead one day because you forgot how to take care of yourself."
Tony snorted, leaning forward on his elbows. "You know, with that attitude, you're really starting to sound like a housewife."
Stephen froze, his brain momentarily short-circuiting. "Excuse me?"
"A housewife," Tony repeated, grinning shamelessly. "You're the one who cooks, keeps me from working myself to death, and now you're saying you'll pop in between missions to make sure I don't keel over. Sounds like you're the magical equivalent of a housewife who just went back to work."
Stephen's cheeks flushed a faint red, and he glared at Tony, his voice tinged with exasperation. "You're insufferable."
Tony's grin only widened. "Admit it, Steph. You missed me while you were off doing wizard stuff. You couldn't wait to get back here and check on me."
Stephen groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I genuinely don't know why I put up with you."
Tony leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Because deep down, you care. And, come on, you've got to admit—you're going to miss me too, Master Strange."
Stephen muttered something under his breath that Tony couldn't quite catch, though it sounded suspiciously like a mix of "infuriating" and "child."
But as Tony laughed, that smug, warm sound echoing through the lab, Stephen's lips twitched upward despite himself. Damn Stark and his ability to make him feel lighter even in the face of looming responsibilities.
"Just try not to burn the place down while I'm gone," Stephen finally said, shaking his head as he straightened.
"No promises," Tony quipped, spinning his chair back toward his workbench. But as Stephen turned to leave, Tony's voice followed him, softer this time. "Hey, Steph?"
Stephen paused, glancing back.
"Good luck with the whole Master thing," Tony said, his grin gentler now. "You're going to be great."
Stephen didn't reply immediately, but the faint smile that crossed his face said enough. "Thanks, Anthony."
Tony leaned back in his chair, a smug grin plastered across his face. "Also, I want to see the uniform you'll be using, because something tells me there's an actual uniform. And you know…" He wagged his eyebrows. "I've got a thing for uniforms."
Stephen froze mid-step, the faintest hint of pink creeping up his neck. "There's no uniform," he said quickly, the lie slipping out without much grace.
Tony smirked, clearly not buying it. "Oh, come on. You're part of some ancient magical order. There's always an official getup. Flowing robes, mystical embroidery, maybe a dramatic collar—"
"I'm going upstairs to cook!" Stephen cut him off, spinning on his heel and practically fleeing the lab.
"Okay, honey!" Tony called after him, his laughter trailing behind as Stephen disappeared up the stairs, muttering under his breath about insufferable geniuses.
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