The building groaned, supports failing in their sole purpose. Dirt slowly fell, suspended in the chaos that surrounded them. Car alarms screaming, civilians mid panic, resounding blasts echoing off the tightly packed buildings, the dull whirring of the Helicarrier blades, and the harsh grunts and groans of battle rose around them like a barrier. The constant noise was like an eternal cry that spoke of pain, desperation, and blood, which surrounded Manhattan like a fortress.
Tony had had enough. First the attack guided by Doctor Doom, and then, when tired yet hyped up on endorphins, they had come. Decked out in bronze plates, they carried electric spears and swords. Their skin had a shiny smooth surface and was Pepto Bismol pink, and their heads carried bulbous sacks, looking like a nest of brightly coloured eggs, which often burst, the liquid dissolving whatever contents it landed on. But the worst part were their eyes. Grey pits swirling with contempt and malice, they were cold, cruel, and unnervingly dead. But he had no time to think about that at the moment.
He, Tony Stark, had made a mistake. A mistake, which he would reluctantly call fatal. JARVIS had pulled up blueprints of the old apartment building, although mislabeled in where support beams and other forms of structure lay, and so, as the world shook around him, he called up the coms.
"So hey guys," he started with a nervous laugh, "I might have made a mistake on my end…" He trailed off, not knowing what to say next, not knowing how to say goodbye to not just his team, but also his family, and Stephen.
"Stark? A mistake? Nah, never!" Clint said with a joking sarcastic tone in his voice.
"Hey, Tony, what sort of mistake are we talking about here?" Cap voiced over the coms line, worried. "Big, small, we need to know." And really, it was nice that his team cared, he would have been more teary-eyed with emotion if not for the 200, 000 ton problem looming over him, taunting him.
"Well, it may or may not have something to do with the old abandoned apartment complex a few blocks north."
"Stark," He growled. Him, being doctor Stephen Strange, AKA the love of Tony's life, AKA his fiancé. "Where are you?"
"Aha ha, umm…, to tell you the truth…" He awkwardly laughed.
"No, Tony, don't tell me you are in there, please, no, no, no! I couldn't stand if I lost you, Tony, please!" Stephen sobbed.
And then the building shuddered. More dust floated down, reminding Tony of snow and more fissures started creeping around the ceiling.
"Sir, structural damage sustained. Scans for the closest escape routes has been completed, though none can be found. The shifting in the tectonic plates has caused the frames to collapse." JARVIS helpfully added.
A shudder. Another. A third. Then CRACK!
"I'm sorry everyone, I failed you all. I'm sorry. And Stephen, just remember that I love you and would never willingly leave you. I failed, I'm so sorry. I love you." And then the building fell.
Pain. Pain was all he felt for what seemed like decades, slipping in and out of a semi-conscious state. And then, after what seemed like eons, he heard the team, although instead of praising his heroics or lamenting for his pain he heard bickering.
"Sigh. No, Clint, I won't help you draw on Stark's face." Natasha, talking to Clint, he assumed.
"Aww, please, just a small, teensie, tiny drawing? So what if it makes nuns cry and children scream in fear. It will make my day over and over when I record his reaction!"
"No Clint, this is a teammate. Tony is family. Don't you think he has gone through enough? That wouldn't be a joke, that would just be cruel." Steve! But what did he mean by that 'gone through enough' comment?
"Steve's right, guys, besides, only Thor would back you up and only because he doesn't understand quote 'Midgardian culture' unquote, but currently he is in Asguard. Plus he would just bother me in the lab until I create a solution to counteract your permanent markers." Bruce! His science bro!
But where was Stephen? He couldn't feel anyone touching him and didn't hear even a peep that sounded like him. But maybe he was just out getting more medicine or something. He was so lucky to have a boyfriend, no, fiancé, like that. And with that final thought he drifted back into the realm of dreams.
When he finally woke up, groaning and moaning and dramatizing everything to the extreme lengths only a Stark would go to, the whole team was there. Hugging him, forcing him to eat and hydrate even though he had an IV (he guessed it was more for them, realizing it wasn't a dream), and fawning over him as if trying to hide something. But both Thor and Strange were absent. Upon asking about the latter's whereabouts, he met silence until Cap spoke softly.
"He was called away for some important business. He doesn't know when he will be back but hopes for a speedy recovery. You were in a coma for four weeks, Tony, both arms and legs broken, three ribs broken and the rest bruised, collarbone broken, dislocated right shoulder, some internal bleeding, a punctured lung, and some nasty cuts and bruises. I think that when I say this the whole team agrees with me, so thank God for your suit otherwise you would have been dead!"
And so Tony lets it be. Until two weeks later when he is cleared from bed rest and he still hasn't gotten a call or even a text from Stephen. And that is when Nat approaches him.
"Hey Tony," she begins, "After Strange patched you up he left. He seemed quite shaken and then after a week of radio silence he left you a letter. It is on your desk in your room, but Tony," she grabs his arm as he eagerly attempts to rush to his room, "You might want to read this alone. But I hope you know that I am here for you. If you ever want to, you know, talk to me. I am a great listener."
And with that he is racing towards the rich mahogany door that leads to his room.
He spots the letter immediately. The envelope is made of a thick, creamy white, heavy cardstock with his and Stephen's names and addresses etched on it in such fancy print that it must have been done by using a quill. Tony snorted to himself. Only Strange, he thought with a chuckle. Only that berk would do something as pretentious as that. Opening it with a small pocketknife resting nearby he slides the just as rich letter from its casing. It is such great quality paper that it doesn't even crinkle when he unfolds it.
Tony,
I know that this is a terrible way to say goodbye but I cannot do this face to face because I am scared that if I do I will take it all back and run into your arms. As you know, I do not do emotion very well, however I know with full certainty that I love you, and unlike other emotions, I can say that without any form of hesitation. I, Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange, am fully and completely in love you, Anthony Edward Stark. Saying it makes me feel complete, as if I have found my other half. Although scientifically I understand that that would be completely idiotic to believe, as you know I dabble in the mystic arts and have learned that not everything man deems impossible is. You are my other half, and so it pains me to give you up.
But I cannot continue doing this, Tony, it is shredding my sanity to pieces. Your constant reckless instinct to dive head first into danger. You tell everyone that you and JARVIS have done the math, calculated the probability, have mapped out the escape routes, however you have never been able to fool me. As much as I love you, I cannot stand by and watch your suicidal tendencies drive you into the ground. One day you will stay there and it will kill me. I don't think I could take the heartache which is why I am ending this now. Watching you slowly kill yourself has me bone weary. You don't know how much anguish you bestowed upon me when that building fell on top of you. Not only was it heart-wrenching not knowing if you were still alive but the fact that you didn't even fight hurt the most. You didn't fight for yourself, you didn't fight for your family, you didn't fight for us. It felt like a piece of me died. And then when we got you onto that bed and you looked so pale and still and close to death I realized that I could not do that anymore.
If you ever need help, you can always call me. I will not be like one of those petty brats who alienate their significant others after a so to speak, 'breakup'. I will always willingly help you, Tony, however I have only one request: please do not beg me to stay because I am afraid that if you ask I will come running. But I do not want to be sucked back into a relationship that slowly rips me to pieces. I know that I always said that I wanted you to be happy, and I do, however I now realize that it cannot be at the expense of my own. To see you so close to death… it broke me. I love you so much and I hope that you are happy. It will be a while, but someday you will understand and hopefully forgive me. It pains me to think of all the grief and pain that I have out you through and I hope that you will not hate me for life. Once again, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you only have to ask.
My love and best regards,
Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange
With trembling hands, he lowered the letter, and realizing that there was something else in the envelope, turned it over. The resonating clunk of the ring hitting the floor was like a gunshot to the heart; that tiny noise finalizing everything, like writing in stone. And it broke his heart. And then the tear gates opened. Picking up his phone, Tony opened the messages app and selected Stephen's number.
T: I could never hate you.
T: You don't ever need to ask for forgiveness. You are not in the wrong.
T: I'm sorry. I love you. I miss you. The team misses you.
And then he decided to call.
"Tony?" The sound of his voice made him keel over. He didn't even realize how much he missed the dry, comforting voice of his Stephen. The way he said his name… it was like coming home.
"Tony? Are you there?" And the emotions were fluctuating so quickly he was rendered speechless. Happiness – the joy at just hearing his love's voice, anger at how he was so unceremoniously dumped, self-hatred at being the one to drive him away, confusion as to why he decided that calling Stephen was a good idea, why was this a good idea again?
"Seriously Tony, this isn't funny. I'm hanging up."
"No! Don't! Please, don't!" If this wasn't such a serious situation Tony would have laughed at the desperation in his voice. He could almost hear his father: Starks don't beg.
"Tony," Stephens voice cracked, "I am so sorry, I love you so much."
"Then take me back, please! I love you so much! You can't leave me, please, please. Please don't go, don't leave me." Sounding so small and frail reflected how exactly he was feeling.
"I… I can't, Tony, I can't go-go back" Stephen hiccupped.
"Please, don't leave me, please." And now they were both crying.
"No, I love you Tony-"
"And I you-"
"-But this is goodbye. I love you so much which is why I realize that this is both of our best interests. I can't be happy and my mood will drag you down and we will be then both unhappy." Stephen took a deep breath, "Don't ask me to come back. I can't. I won't. Goodbye Tony, goodbye forever."
And he hung up, leaving Tony to deal with the aftermath. To clean up after his shattered heart. All the while he drowned his sorrows with alcohol, one phrase kept repeating over and over in his head.
Goodbye forever… Goodbye forever… Goodbye forever…