May 17th - 2009
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Stephen leaned against the workbench, watching Tony make the final adjustments to the Mark III armor. The red and gold gleamed under the workshop lights, a striking contrast to the grim expression on Tony's face.
This wasn't the usual cocky, grinning Tony Stark. This was a man driven by guilt and anger, his focus razor-sharp as he prepared for his first mission.
"You don't have to do this tonight," Stephen said quietly, his voice breaking the tense silence.
Tony didn't look up, his hands steady as he locked the last gauntlet into place. "Yes, I do."
Stephen's gaze narrowed slightly. "Anthony—"
"They're using my weapons, Stephen," Tony interrupted, his tone hard. He straightened, the suit's arc reactor glowing faintly in the dim light. "My name. My company. All this time, I thought I was building something good, something that protected people. And now…"
He trailed off, his jaw tightening as his fists clenched at his sides.
Stephen crossed his arms, his expression softening just slightly. "And now you're trying to fix it."
Tony finally looked at him, his brown eyes sharp and resolute. "Damn right I am."
Stephen studied him for a moment, noting the tension in his shoulders, the fire in his gaze. This wasn't just about guilt—it was about accountability. Tony Stark was a man who, for all his flaws, couldn't stand the idea of others suffering because of him.
"Then let me help you," Stephen said, stepping forward.
Tony tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "What, you want to join me on a midnight flight?"
Stephen raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly." He gestured toward the suit, faint golden light sparking around his fingertips. "I'm placing a tracking spell on your armor. It'll let me know where you are at all times. If things go wrong, I'll portal to you. Or portal you out."
Tony's smirk faltered, replaced by a look of mild suspicion. "What, you don't think I can handle myself out there?"
Stephen's expression didn't waver. "I think you're about to fly into hostile territory alone, with no backup and no plan other than 'figure it out as I go.'"
Tony let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You make me sound so irresponsible.
Stephen didn't laugh. "You're not invincible, Anthony. No matter how good that suit is."
For a moment, they stared at each other, the weight of Stephen's words hanging in the air.
Then Tony sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Alright, fine. Do your magic thing."
Stephen stepped closer, his hands hovering over the suit's chest as a faint golden rune appeared, glowing briefly before fading into the metal. "There. Now, if you get yourself into trouble—which you will—I'll know."
Tony glanced down at the arc reactor, then back at Stephen. "You're really worried about me, huh?"
Stephen raised an eyebrow, his voice dry. "I prefer to think of it as being prepared."
"Sure," Tony said, smirking faintly as he stepped onto the platform. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
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Stephen stayed in the workshop after Tony took off, his eyes fixed on the monitors displaying the suit's telemetry and live feed. JARVIS had linked him into the comms, allowing him to hear everything Tony said.
"JARVIS, what's our status?" Tony's voice crackled through the feed, sharp and focused.
"All systems are fully operational, sir," JARVIS replied smoothly.
Stephen couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for the AI. It was calm, composed—everything Tony wasn't when he was on a mission. Though this time it went well. Tony went, killed some terrorists, destroyed the weapons, helped people and then went out, just like he planned to do so. There was a hitch with a tank, but nothing he couldn't solve. Luckily, he didn't linger more than necessary.
The problem came when Tony tried to make the flight back. A couple of American fighter planes registered Tony's presence. Then came Rhodey's voice, cutting through the comms with a mix of irritation and confusion.
"Tony? I need your help right now. We've got a weapons depot that was just blown up a few clicks from where you were being held captive."
Tony didn't even hesitate as he answered, his breath ragged. "Well, that's a hot spot. Sounds like someone stepped in and did your job for you, huh?"
"Why do you sound out of breath, Tony? What the hell are you doing?"
Stephen leaned forward slightly, listening as Tony dodged Rhodey's questions, his excuses growing increasingly thin.
"I'm jogging in the canyon," Tony said at one point, his tone too casual to be convincing.
Stephen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Anthony, you're terrible at lying," he muttered under his breath. "You sure you don't have any tech in that area I should know about?"
"Nope!"
The conversation continued, with Tony dodging Rhodey's questions about his whereabouts and involvement in the destruction of the weapons depot. Stephen listened intently, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk as he kept his senses attuned to Tony's location.
Then came the chatter from the pilots.
"Bogey spotted."
"Whiplash, come in hot."
"Got the bogey in my sights."
Stephen straightened in his seat, his sharp eyes narrowing as he focused on the monitors.
"JARVIS," he said, his tone brisk, "what's happening?"
"Two F-22 Raptors have engaged Mr. Stark, believing him to be a hostile threat," JARVIS replied calmly.
Stephen cursed under his breath, his magic already flickering to life around his hands. "And he still insists he can handle this on his own?"
"Correct, Doctor Strange," JARVIS replied, his tone carrying a hint of dry amusement.
Stephen's gaze remained fixed on the monitors, watching as Tony maneuvered through the sky, evading missiles and narrowly avoiding the jets' firepower.
"Anthony," Stephen muttered, his voice edged with frustration.
Tony's voice crackled through the feed, addressing Rhodey. "I'm in it. It's a suit. It's me!"
Stephen resisted the urge to slam his hand on the desk. "He's reckless. Completely reckless."
The situation escalated quickly. One jet was hit, the pilot ejecting just in time, but the tension in the air was palpable. Stephen could feel it even from miles away.
Then, the second jet locked onto Tony.
"Whiplash Two, reengage. If you get a clear shot, take it," the commanding officer's voice came through the feed.
"JARVIS," Stephen said sharply, standing up. "I'll open a portal to his location. Turn off the suit so he won't continue flying here and break everything."
"Sir, Mr. Stark has not yet requested assistance," JARVIS replied.
Stephen's eyes narrowed, his tone brooking into no argument. "I'll do it. Now."
The portal opened with a flash of golden light, cutting through the chaos of the sky. One moment, Tony was mid-roll, trying to shake the jet off his tail. The next, the power died, and he was stumbling into the workshop, the sudden shift in location leaving him momentarily disoriented with the Mark III's metal feet scraping against the floor as he tried to regain his balance.
Stephen stood nearby, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.
"What the hell, Steph?" Tony snapped, pulling off his helmet. His hair was damp with sweat, his face flushed from adrenaline. "I had it under control!"
Stephen raised an eyebrow, his gaze steady. "You were about to be shot out of the sky."
"I was handling it!"
"Anthony," Stephen said, his voice calm but firm, "you can't handle everything on your own. As much as your ego might tell you otherwise, you're not invincible. No matter how good that suit is."
Tony opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when he saw the faint worry in Stephen's eyes. He huffed, setting the helmet down on the workbench, as he mumbled, "I would've figured it out."
"Maybe. But you don't always have the luxury of time to figure things out. Not when your life is on the line."
"But—"
"I know you're trying to make things right," Stephen continued, his tone softer now. "But you can't fix everything in one night. And you can't help anyone if you get yourself killed."
Tony let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Fine. Thanks for the save."
Stephen nodded, stepping back. "Just… be careful next time."
Tony smirked faintly, some of his usual bravado returning. "You know me."
Stephen's lips quirked in a faint smile. "That's what worries me."
Before either of them could add anything more, Rhodey's voice came through Tony's comms, startling them both.
"Tony, you still there?" Rhodey's tone was equal parts exasperated and relieved.
Tony froze for a moment before groaning. "Crap. Forgot about Rhodey." He tapped his earpiece. "Hey, thanks."
Rhodey let out an incredulous laugh. "Oh my God, you crazy son of a bitch. You owe me a plane. You know that, right?"
Tony smirked, leaning casually against the workbench. "Yeah, well, technically, he hit me."
Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Anthony, you're unbelievable."
Rhodey wasn't done. "You know, one of these days, you're going to give me a heart attack. Now, are you going to explain what the hell just happened?"
Tony waved him off, even though Rhodey couldn't see it. "Nah. Are you going to come by and see what I'm working on?"
"No, no, no, no, no, no," Rhodey said quickly, his tone firm. "The less I know, the better. Now, what am I supposed to tell the press?"
Tony shrugged, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Training exercise. Isn't that the usual BS?"
Rhodey sighed heavily. "I hate you sometimes, Tony."
"You love me," Tony shot back before cutting the line. He turned to Stephen, who was glaring at him with a mix of frustration and disbelief.
"You didn't even apologize," Stephen said flatly.
"For what?" Tony asked, feigning innocence. "I saved the day. Again. And Rhodey's fine. He'll get over it."
Stephen sighed, shaking his head. "You're exhausting."
Tony smirked as he stepped onto the platform where JARVIS began disengaging the suit. "I like to think of it as charming."
.
"Hey!" Tony yelped as the suit's arm locked briefly, pinching him.
"Sir, it is a tight fit," JARVIS said, his tone calm as ever. "The more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt."
"Be gentle. This is my first time," Tony quipped, grimacing as he tried to wriggle out of the armor. "I designed this to come off, so—"
"Please, try not to move, sir," JARVIS advised.
Stephen stood nearby, his arms crossed as he watched the whole ordeal with faint amusement. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me when I tell you to calibrate it properly before using it."
Tony shot him a glare. "Not helping, Steph."
Before Stephen could respond, the workshop door slid open, and Pepper walked in, carrying a clipboard and looking distracted—until her eyes landed on the scene in front of her. She froze, taking in Tony struggling to get out of his suit, Stephen standing off to the side looking entirely too calm, and the unmistakable dents and bullet holes marring the suit's surface.
"What's going on here?" she asked, her voice sharp as she stepped closer.
Tony froze mid-struggle, his eyes wide. "Let's face it. This is not the worst thing you've caught me doing."
Pepper's eyes narrowed, her gaze locking onto the suit. "Are those bullet holes?"
Tony hesitated. "Uh… no?"
"Anthony," Stephen muttered, rubbing his temples.
"Tony!" Pepper snapped, her tone rising. "You told me you were just working on prototypes! What were you doing out there? And why," she turned her glare to Stephen, "are you letting him do this?"
Stephen raised an eyebrow, his tone even as he replied, "Tony is an adult who makes his own decisions, Miss Potts. I'm not his keeper."
Pepper crossed her arms, her frustration clear. "You may not be his keeper, but you're supposed to be the responsible one here. You're supposed to stop him from doing reckless, dangerous things like this!"
Stephen's expression didn't waver. "And how, exactly, do you suggest I stop him? Tie him down? Cast a sleeping spell?" He gave her a pointed look. "He's determined, Pepper. And whether you like it or not, he's going to keep doing this. All I can do is make sure he doesn't get himself killed in the process."
"Thank you, Stephen," Tony said, smirking as he finally managed to free one arm from the suit. "At least someone gets it."
Pepper's glare shifted back to Tony. "Don't thank him. He's just as reckless as you are for indulging this madness."
"Indulging?" Stephen repeated, his tone icy now. "I've done nothing but try to keep him alive while he does what he believes is right. You should know better than anyone that trying to stop Tony Stark is a waste of time."
Tony's smirk faded as he looked between the two of them. "Okay, okay, let's all take a breath. Pepper, I appreciate your concern, but Stephen's right. This is something I have to do."
Pepper sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as some of her anger gave way to worry. "I just don't want to see you hurt, Tony."
"I know," Tony said softly, finally stepping out of the suit. He gave her a small smile. "But I'm fine. Really. I've got JARVIS, I've got the suit, and," he glanced at Stephen, "I've got a very grumpy sorcerer watching my back."
Stephen rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
Pepper shook her head, clearly still frustrated but unwilling to keep arguing. "Fine. But if you get yourself killed, don't expect me to feel sorry for you."
Tony grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Deal."
As Pepper huffed and muttered under her breath, Stephen watched the two of them, his expression unreadable. Despite his earlier words, he couldn't deny that Pepper's concern mirrored his own.
Because for all his bravado, Tony Stark was only human. And humans, no matter how brilliant or determined, weren't invincible.
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