Reaching Through the Looking Glass

Disclaimer:

The Avengers belong to Marvel. This is a MCU crossover with the comics 616 universe. It takes place post-Civil War in 616 and post-Age of Ultron in MCU, so there will be spoilers. This also contains implied slash; if it's not to your tastes, feel free to hit the back button. I only own this idea. Thank you.

Full Summary:

[Oneshot – Post-Age of Ultron | 616 Crossover] Sleep did not come easy to Tony Stark. It never had. Nowadays though, when it did claim him, it was often much better to not be asleep. But sometimes, the dreams – when they weren't nightmares – could be important. Very important.

He had had worse ideas.

That was the mantra he was repeating in his mind as he worked on the last bits of his device. In fact, after this little jaunt, he would be doing something even crazier. Monumentally crazy, but absolutely necessary.

The decision to build this device, however, wasn't strictly required. It had also taken up time, perhaps too much precious time, but this? This would be worth it if he succeeded. Reed wasn't the only one interested to see how alternate universes had handled Registration, although Reed hadn't given any details when he'd asked. Although interdimensional events were Reed's specialty, he knew more than enough to replicate and modify the device Reed used to observe other worlds.

After much searching, he'd finally found a world that hadn'thad the debacle over Registration. Not because it had passed peacefully (like in that universe), but because it hadn't happened yet.

He didn't just want to look through the looking glass. He was going through it.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to put things right for another universe.

Sleep was something which Tony did not have a very good relationship with. After becoming Iron Man, that particular "relationship" was strained even further. Then when Fury showed up with his little band of agents (and a runaway scientist-Hulk, a Norse god and a Capsicle), and after the whole thing with aliens attacking New York, well… for the first time, Tony really wanted to patch up his relationship with sleep.

Unfortunately, by that point, whenever he tried to fall asleep, it was pretty much not worth the minimal amount of shut eye he would get. Because after all the shit he'd gone through, his subconscious was even less of a happy place than it had been before, and all of that chose to manifest in dreams. In nightmares.

But Tony was still only human, and he still needed sleep even if it was better called "keeling over unconscious" when his body could not handle the fatigue any more. If he were lucky, blacking out this way would ensure that his mind was too tired to dream and he got some amount of rest. Gradually, however, it got better and there was more sleep than there was unconsciousness.

Until the next shitstorm hit the fan. This time, he had nobody to blame but himself.

Afterwards, he buried himself in work. Or at least, he was trying to pass it off as work.

The Tower felt different now. Pepper was still away on business, handling the PR storm that emerged post-Sokovia even though it wasn't truly her job anymore. Bruce… left, and JARVIS… JARVIS was d- gone, and while he could recode his AI, he… he couldn't bring himself to do it. Because it felt wrong. It felt like making a replacement for what he couldn't have. Because JARVIS wasn't totally gone; Vision just didn't see the need to interact with him beyond the necessity of the last battle.

Well. There was a reason why he hadn't wanted to give JARVIS a body of his own.

After New York, his nightmares had been of space, of falling through the wormhole and dying. After Sokovia, after Ultron, it was reliving the vision of his friends dead, of Steve just having enough breath to accuse him of failing, of disappointing them all (of disappointing Steve), before dying. They would all be dead, and only Tony would be alive. To witness his failures. All alone. Because it was what he deserved.

He tried not to think about it in his waking hours. But alone in the Tower, with only FRIDAY's voice for company most of the time, it was surprisingly hard to tinker for hours on end in the workshop like he'd always used to do. Maybe it was because of the most recent memories he associated with his once-sacred space. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, it just wasn't working out like he'd wanted to. Yet inevitably, exhaustion – mental and physical – would claim him, pull him under to show him everything he feared over and over again.

This time, it was the same. He knew it was a dream, the very same nightmare that he had been reliving. But it never did stop the terror, the hopelessness surging up in him. It didn't stop his feet from moving towards Steve, even though he knew what would happen next.

Or not.

There was a sudden sound behind him. Something out of place from the scene that he had relived more times than he'd care to count. It was a miniscule thing, almost imperceptible, but it did not belong. Something had changed.

"Well. This is cheerful."

He whipped around, and though he wasn't wearing the armor, his hands reflexively came out in the classic position to fire his repulsors.

Then he blinked in confusion when he saw what was essentially himself with a different looking goatee and blue eyes instead of brown.

"You know," the stranger said conversationally, "This is your dream. I'm not sure I want to have a little tête-à-tête with this particular backdrop."

He watched the other man give a quick scan of their surroundings, and noted that the man's eyes skittered away from where the other Avengers were lying dead… and then looked back at Steve before averting his gaze away again. It had to be Tony's imagination, or a trick of the nonexistent light that he saw what looked like grief flicker through blue eyes.

When Tony didn't respond, the stranger looked at him again and added, "Your dream, your rules. A backdrop change is possible. Actually, it'd be preferable."

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm you, Anthony Edward Stark. But a you from another universe."

Right.

"And what, you're here to give me some advice?"

"Yes, because I've been observing your universe. I've looked through so many that yours sticks out as an anomaly."

Tony was perfectly aware that this could just be his subconscious he was talking to. In fact, that was the most probable explanation. Why his mind decided to conjure up another him was something best left untouched. Still, he played along. This was so much better than his usual nightmares anyway.

"Oh yeah, so we're special. How?"

Other-him scoffed. "Special? It's not really a good thing, Tony. Your world's Avengers team is one of the most disunited I've ever seen. Sure, you guys work well in combat – we always do – but outside of that? You're not friends; you're all just comrades-in-arms."

"We make a great team. That's good enough."

But even as he was saying that, he still clearly recalled the bitter aftertaste of hurt that had followed the shock at finding out that Clint had a family and only Natasha knew about it.

"It's not. Pretty much everywhere else, the Avengers aren't just a team. They're family… and we don't have enough of that around, do we?"

This wasn't even real; he wasn't actually talking to an alternate universe version of himself. But Tony found himself getting pissed off all the same. Because of course his subconscious would decide on exactly the worst but most effective buttons to push. But before he could snap at other-him (a subconscious manifestation of himself?) to mind his own business, other-him spoke.

"You wanted that, though, didn't you? I saw you change the tower from Stark Tower to Avengers Tower. You gave all of them a floor, personally designed each one, and even though only Bruce moved in, you were so happy."

"So you're saying I should've, what, forced myself on all of them? Bugged them 'til they all decided to move in to humor the needy billionaire?"

"Yes. Because your team needed it, needs it. All of you need family, a place to call home. Especially," other-him paused, face twisting momentarily into an expression of wretched sadness before it went forcibly neutral. "…especially Steve," other-him continued in a quieter voice.

He almost flinched, because it was something he had thought about before. He had wondered about how Steve was doing in what was pretty much a brand-new world for him. But this was a strange manifestation of his subconscious (it had to be, it had to), so it would know what the things that bothered Tony were.

"Clint doesn't. He already has a family," he deflected, not wanting to acknowledge the last comment about Steve.

"So he has," his double agreed without missing a beat. "Doesn't change the fact that family doesn't end in blood. Not to be ominous, but in one universe, Laura Barton and her children were murdered in cold blood."

Tony sucked in a breath and felt his eyes go wide.

"But that particular universe was a lot more depressing in general," other-him added with a shrug, as if dismissing it already. As if he hadn't hit Tony with a bad scenario that he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of. Then other-him turned serious again. "You don't know it, but your Clint had been wondering about his place on the team, on whether he was truly needed. Maybe he has a family, but he still needs the Avengers."

"So let's say that you're right. I'm still not the person who they should be gathering around. They're better off without me. If you've been watching us, then you know what happened," Tony countered. "Ultron happened, and that's on me. Unless you're telling me that you created Ultron in your universe, and it didn't mess with the team, the family."

"Well… Ultron wasn't my creation in my universe. But that's not to say I haven't fucked up. In fact, I've fucked up more than you." There was an unpleasant, bitter smile on other-him's face. "A lot more."

This time, it was Tony's turn to scoff. "Really? What's worse than creating a sentient killer AI that helped to demolish a small country?"

There was no smile on other-him's face now. In fact, it was right at this moment that Tony realized that other-him's eyes were dull, hollow.

"I killed Steve Rogers."

It felt like a sucker punch. It felt like all the air had been sucked out and he was standing in a vacuum. It was like being hit with the Jericho all over again. He was having a panic attack, this was what it felt like. But he wasn't moving. He was rooted to the spot. He wasn't breathing and could only be vaguely thankful that this was a dream and therefore, the manifestation of his dream self did not technically need to breathe. He was still trying to process those four words.

He couldn't.

But that didn't stop the feelings from welling up. The sheer horror those words invoked, the denial that was warring with his shock. Other-him was just standing there, looking at him, and… Tony understood now, why this other Tony Stark looked dead inside, was dead inside. He really was an alternate universe version of Tony. Tony didn't really know why this was what clinched it for him, but it just did.

"You can't process it, can you? It's unthinkable, isn't it? But it's the truth, and no, I wasn't mind controlled. I wish I was, God, do I wish that were the case… but I wasn't."

He forced himself to take a couple of breaths. To unlock his frozen muscles. To just try to respond. Because. This. That. He just…

"You. Why?"

"There was an incident involving untrained superheroes and supervillains that ended with lots of civilian casualties. Kids. The public demanded superhero accountability and the government decided to pass the Superhuman Registration Act. For my world, that meant secret identities would become no more. All superhumans, whether they were using their powers for superheroing or not, had to be registered in a government database.

The superhero community was divided about Registration. Steve was against it… I supported it. Things… escalated. The superhero community went to war, and when there's war, there are casualties. Sometimes, they're really big casualties."

"This. This is why you came to warn me. Because my universe hasn't experienced this, but… but after Ultron, it will. Of course it will. This Act… something like it will come up. I know it." Tony could not help a bitter laugh from escaping his lips.

He could see it happening. Sokovian citizens hadn't been too happy with the Avengers' presence even before their country got annihilated. Although they'd managed to evacuate everyone, Tony wasn't so naïve as to believe that that meant the Avengers were in their good books. They'd also trashed up several cities across the world in their bid to stop Ultron, and so they probably didn't have much plus points left in the minds of the global community. All it would take was one more incident and the public would be out for blood.

"How the hell does making the Avengers into a family help with… with this Act? You said you guys were all chummy, all… all family, and it still didn't do shit. Then what should I even do?"

This was all such bullshit. What did other-him think Tony could do even with advance warning? Make them all a big, happy family and hope that if, when the government started to throw the Act around, it would just work out? If other-him wanted this to work, maybe he should've come before Ultron. Before their fledgling team had splintered further… so much so that a new Avengers team was being put together with only Steve and Natasha as the old guards.

"I don't even have years of camaraderie to build on, which I'm guessing you had. You had all that and more. So if you couldn't do it, what makes you think that I can?"

He was Tony Stark. They both were. Surely, other-him knew exactly how much he could screw things up? Good intentions. Hell. Hello.

"Because one of us did it," alternate-him burst out, moving abruptly closer to Tony, who instinctively took a step back at the outburst. "On Earth 3490. We were female, and Natasha Stark married Steve Rogers. Iron Woman and Captain America got married, and they worked things out and the war never came to pass. I'm doing this, because I'm hoping that another universe can get it right and avert the war, because it wasn't worth it!"

Alternate-him's voice had gotten more and more agitated, but by the end of it, he was full on screaming at Tony, his voice cracking in grief and self-loathing. Tony could tell clearly that he was seeing a man whose hope had died for his own world, for himself. And in doing this, in meddling in the affairs of another world, was clinging on to the hope that if he could make things right in some other world, than it would be… not okay, but still better than before. And… and…

"You love him," Tony breathed out, almost disbelieving, but he could not deny it. "You're in love with him."

That was why the other Tony's gaze had been drawn to dream-Steve's body, even when he'd tried not to look at the dream Avengers lying dead in the background. The other Steve was dead, and even though other-him didn't want to see a dead Steve, dream or not, his eyes couldn't move away. Not immediately. Because to this other Tony, Steve was his North Star.

"I am… but that doesn't necessarily work out. Love isn't the miracle cure. You're looking at living proof of that," other-him gestured to himself with such a sad look on his face that Tony had to avert his gaze momentarily. He never wanted to see someone who was essentially himself look that way.

"But Tony, you have to try," alternate-him pleaded. "You have to stop the war from happening. Fuck trying to prevent Registration, there's no stopping it from coming in one form or another; sooner or later, it will happen. We both know it. Just… when it does happen, when you first catch wind of it, talk to him. Work with him. Don't shut him out until it's too late. Please."

He wanted so much to say yes, to promise himself that he'd do it right. The look of desperation on his other self's face was almost too much to bear. But… but on the back of his most recent failure, Tony couldn't. Because how could he even be sure that he'd be able to keep it? How could Tony be sure that he wouldn't murder a man who was at once a very good friend that he'd had so much chemistry with, and yet was also the only person who could get under Tony's skin as successfully and as easily as if he'd been born to do it? How could he promise all of that, when the other Tony, the Tony who was in love with his Steve Rogers, had been able to kill his Steve? Tony only had a friendship to work with, and it was a friendship he still wasn't truly sure about the strength of. It would be far too easy for him to slip up.

"I…"

Alternate-him straightened up, vulnerable expression going shuttered, as if he'd read exactly what Tony was going to say. That was probably the truth.

"If you can't do that, then you better pull away even more than you already have, Tony. You won't be able to handle it when it happens otherwise. But you know what? I think it's already too late for that." Blue eyes looked over at Steve's body. "You and I already have the same fear – the death of Steve Rogers, being the one to disappoint him… living to see it happen, and not being able to stop it. And you will see this, you know. If you continue down my road…"

The other man walked over to Steve, kneeling down like how the nightmare usually progressed. "He'll be disappointed in you. Not only that, he'll hate you. But you'll be okay with that… until you kill him."

Other-him reached out a hand slowly, and Tony saw him pause just before his fingertips would graze dream-Steve's cheek. It was only after this moment of hesitation that other-him finally let his fingers touch skin. It was an extremely intimate image, and though Tony averted his eyes, he still felt like he was intruding, which was ridiculous because this was his dream space. It also made a traitorous part of his mind wonder if he would ever look at someone like his other self was looking at Steve.

"This is it for me, Tony," alternate-him said. Then in a whisper, probably not meant for Tony's ears, he added, "At least I got to see him one last time."

He recognized that tone. It was never a good thing for any Tony Stark to sound like that.

"What are you planning to do?" he asked, not sure if he'd like to know the answer. Or if he would even get one.

Blue eyes looked straight at him, and this time, they were hardened chips of sapphire ice. There was grief, more than a little fear, but an absolute conviction and determination contained in them as well.

"What's necessary."

Then alternate-him blinked out of existence.

Tony awoke to find the early morning sunlight filtering through his windows. He'd made it to his bed last night, and though he couldn't remember having a nightmare, he still did not feel well-rested. There was an itch under his skin. It felt like a warning, that there was something he should remember from his dream, that he should know… But he came up with nothing.

He counted his blessings that, at least, he appeared to have slept through the night without screaming himself awake for once…

Even if it felt like he was missing something important.

There was uproar when the Superhuman Registration Act passed following yet another Avengers-related international incident.

Watching the news as it unfolded, Tony felt cold.

For those not in the know, 616 Steve does get better eventually, and he was NOT killed by Tony. But I do not doubt that Tony would see it that way, because if the war hadn't happened, Steve wouldn't have been on those courthouse steps to get shot at. That's Tony-logic for you, and so he would tell the story that way too - especially to an alternate universe him. Le sigh.

I'm sorry that this wasn't a fix-it. My brain works mostly in angsty ways... and Tony does angst so well. Civil War also has a special place in my heart for being the biggest reason why Steve/Tony is my Avengers OTP. So I'm excited for MCU's take on it... but plenty worried about whether Tony is just going to get unfairly villainized because they're doing Civil War under the Captain America title, which pretty much already puts Steve's side as the "right" side.

Hope you enjoyed it!

carzla