Been There, Blown That Up

Summary: After Loki's defeat and his fall from the portal, Tony starts preaching about a murderous purple titan out to get them in the depths of space.

Wait. What?

On the other side of the universe, Nebula loses her cool approximately two seconds after laying eyes on Thanos and finds herself on a wild chase through the galaxy. Now, where exactly was that pathetic piece of rock Terra again?


Chapter 20

Every once in a while, somebody at the tower would remember that they were on somewhat of a schedule. Every single time, Tony was forced to explain to them that there was one member of their team – a rather essential one – still missing.

"What are we waiting for?" Nebula scowled at nothing in particular, idly fiddling with the machinery on her arm.

Tony wished she'd quit doing it. He doubted the power stone appreciated being poked at so carelessly.

"We've never been this close," Nebula added. "What's taking so long?"

"Just give him a few more weeks," Tony said. "I'm sure he'll come around soon."

"Why do we need to wait for him in the first place?"

"Might have to do with the fact that once he figures out his mojo, he's one of our strongest fighters." Tony paused. "Don't ever tell him I said this."

"We could do it without him," Nebula insisted, taking care of a loose wire in her limb with precision and a delicate touch most people didn't think her capable of. "One person will not make the difference between loss and victory."

"Maybe not," Tony admitted. "But with him comes the time stone. Do you really want to go up against Thanos while there's the tiniest chance of him getting hold of it himself?"

The implication of Thanos wielding the time stone painted enough of a horrid picture without Tony spelling it out.

Strange had stopped answering Tony's calls a couple weeks after he'd contacted him that very first time at the hospital. Tony kept calling him regardless, reasoning that as soon as he got his powers he'd have no choice but to realize that Tony had told him the truth. Surely he'd be more open to a conversation afterwards.

Except when he tried calling the hospital, they told him Strange was no longer a resident surgeon.

"They won't give me any details." Tony scowled, resisting the urge to furiously redial the number and bring the receptionist at the other end to tears.

Tony didn't know any of Strange's acquaintances prior to becoming Sorcerer Supreme. That sorcerer pal of his – Wong, was it? – wouldn't be of any help while Strange was still a civilian.

What was that fellow doctor of his called again? Christa? Kirsten? It wouldn't matter either way, seeing as the hospital stubbornly refused to give out contact information to random strangers on the phone. Ridiculous.

"Sir," JARVIS said, interrupting his train of thought. "I believe I've found something."

Tony took his phone from his ear and stared at the headline JARVIS had pulled up. The headline stared back.

"You didn't mention anything about a car crash," Bruce muttered, reading the article over Tony's shoulder. He'd asked JARVIS to keep tabs on Strange's name in the news – hoping to catch him in the middle of some fantastical, magical mishap. Not… this.

"I didn't know about it."

If he had... He would have done what? Warn Strange (who hadn't believed a word he'd been saying) to never drive a car again? Take a gamble and hope that Strange's powers were unrelated to the accident?

Even if he'd had a chance of preventing it, it was too late. Tony had tried tracking Stephen down, and he'd failed. He had no choice but to wait and hope that whatever had happened in the wake of the car crash, it had somehow led to Strange's rather peculiar career change.

Tony tried checking in with Strange occasionally and kept himself occupied with their preparations. He trained with the team, developed fighting simulations, updated equipment, bonded with allies, and, and, and...

He knew that their time to prepare was ticking away. Thanos was bound to find out about the destroyed infinity stones sooner rather than later – if he hadn't already.

The Thanos that Tony and Nebula knew had been assured of his role as the universe's "savior" and assured in his victory. What would a younger Thanos do upon realizing that his plan was ruined? What would he do, knowing that a bunch of meddling mortals had torn it to shreds without him lifting so much as a finger to prevent it?

Time passed, Tony failed to contact Strange, and Nebula grew increasingly restless. She paced around like a caged animal and needed to be talked out of leaving the tower when she seemed too trigger-happy to risk any run-ins with civilians.

She obliterated combat simulations so efficiently and violently that only the bravest (or most reckless) of the team dared to step into the training rooms with her.

After the third time Tony helped patch up her body after a too vicious, too recklessly fought training simulation, Tony had had enough.

"You realize this isn't doing us any good, right?" He swallowed down an apology and yanked out a warped piece of metal, knowing that Nebula wasn't made of glass and disliked being treated like it.

She didn't so much as bat an eyelash.

"Messing up your body every other day is kind of counterproductive."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of the repairs myself," Nebula muttered, scowling down at a frayed wire like it had personally failed her.

"I know you are." Tony didn't look up from the mess of circuits and melted machinery Nebula had turned her limb into. "But I'm here. Which means you don't need to be."

Nebula allowed Tony to work in silence. The damage wasn't as bad as it looked – luckily, seeing as Tony didn't feel like dissecting an infinity stone infused weapon that also happened to be one of his closest friends' limb.

"I cannot force myself to stay idle for much longer," Nebula said.

"If this is you staying idle, I don't really want to know the alternative."

"Sir," JARVIS interrupted before Nebula could do more than send him a scowl. "The reception has received a call from Doctor Stephen Strange. He's asking to be patched through to you."

Nebula and Tony shared a startled glance.

Tony picked up the metal plate encasing Nebula's arm and placed it over the no-longer-melted, neatly arranged wires and circuitry.

"Hear that?" he said, letting Nebula take over fastening the plate. "Looks like we're done waiting."


For several months of Stephen's blessedly normal, civilian life, it had been an unquestionable fact that Tony Stark was a hopelessly raving madman.

As sobering as the realization had been, Stephen had been more than prepared to accept it and move on with his life. Who cared that every once in a while, a resident superhero celebrity would try to contact him to – presumably – start another attempt at convincing Stephen of his outrageous sounding stories of magic and space stones and the end of the world.

Sure, there was the point where spaceships had landed on Earth and proved that aliens did, in fact, exist. (Stephen tried his very best to avoid news reports and articles about their alien visitors for the sole reason that Stark seemed to be annoyingly involved in all of it.)

But just because Stark had gotten lucky, that didn't mean he knew what he was talking about when he tried convincing Stephen that he was going to abandon his medical career in order to become some sort of magician.

The accident happened.

So did Kamar-Taj.

Stark's claims faded into the background as Stephen dealt with his injuries and studied under the Ancient One – in a way, it felt like Stephen had started living a completely different life.

It took Stephen several days after defeating Dormammu and Kaecilius to realize that not only had Stark been right about him, but also that there was a good chance that he was right about everything else as well.

Even though Stephen had accepted a living cloak and other dimensions as a part of his new worldview, he had the dull notion that it still wouldn't be enough to prepare him for what followed.

He was also determined that no matter what else fate was planning to toss his way, Stephen was never going to admit to Stark's face that Stephen had been wrong about him.


Stephen was proven right in that he couldn't have possibly prepared for the chaotic whirlwind that was Tony Stark. He was sure that the other occupants of the tower were just as bad – he doubted anyone could live with Stark for an extended period of time and come out of it sane – but all of them faded into the background once Stark took the stage and began swamping him with the insanity he'd tried to introduce him to all those months ago at the hospital.

"Before we get this started," Stark said, pacing around the room restlessly and typing wildly on his phone, "welcome to the tower and thanks for showing up. Better late than never I suppose – although to be fair, we've been waiting for ages."

Stephen decided to skip over the majority of what he'd said. "What are you doing?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Stark wiggled his phone. "Ignore it. I'm just letting everybody know that you're here."

"... Right." Stephen had no idea who 'everybody' was. He didn't know if he wanted to find out.

"Anyway, now that you're part of the team–"

"Excuse me, but I'm what?"

"– we can finally get our act together and start planning our move against Thanos–"

"Against who?"

"– just as soon as we're done destroying that thing in your amulet."

"You want to do what?" Stephen gaped at Stark. "I'm... I'm the guardian of the time stone? I can't just... I mean. Destroying it is the exact opposite of guarding it?"

Stephen vaguely realized that he was phrasing as questions what ought to be hard facts.

"True," Stark said, "but consider this: if you destroy the stone, nobody can ever get their hands on it."

"Hardly anybody knows about its existence," Stephen argued. "Why would anybody get their hands on it to begin with?"

Thus began an impromptu history lesson that left Stephen wondering whether his powers were worth having gotten caught up in such a – seemingly intergalactic, world-threatening – mess.

"– called Thanos. We already made sure to destroy the source of his power – other than that lovely amulet of yours–"

"– the way, can you use that mirror thingy yet? It's no use against the big bad I'm afraid, but it'll come in handy against the grunts."

"... You know, we ought to have printed out pamphlets by now. It's getting ridiculous."

On and on it went – Stark kept dropping out of context snippets of information and needed to go further back to explain them. The blue alien woman interrupted whenever she was of the opinion that he'd skipped over something vital – which, seeing as she seemed to have wreaked havoc over half the galaxy on her own before joining Stark on Earth, was often.

"Wait," Stephen interrupted at one point, trying desperately not to get lost or – even worse – come across as ignorant.

"So... So the stones. The infinity stones. Of which I am currently in possession of one. You've destroyed them all?"

"All but two," Stark corrected. With a pointed glance at the very-much-intact amulet he added, "Clearly."

Stephen ignored the jab. "Two? Where's the other one?"

The alien woman – Nebula. Stephen didn't want to imagine having to learn all of these names without his frankly brilliant memory – did something to her arm that made it glow in a near blinding purple.

Nobody answered but they looked at him expectantly. Stephen realized that this was, in fact, his answer. "It's... inside of you?"

"Pretty much," Stark said.

"One of the primordial forces of the universe," Stephen said, feeling a headache creep up, "and you carry it inside of you."

"We needed some way of destroying the stones."

Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Obviously. Please continue."

"I actually think we covered the essentials," Stark said. "We'd be here for a week if we tried to–"

Stark was interrupted by a sharp, shrill sounding melody that sounded vaguely like cat noises. Stephen couldn't muster the energy to feel surprised about it any more.

Nebula on the other hand stared at Stark with unconcealed disgust. "What is that?"

Stark fumbled with his phone, and the melody lowered considerably in volume. "It's an internet thing." He grinned. "Carol would hate it."

He hit another button and the melody – blessedly – stopped. "Carol? What's up?"

Stark's expression went slack almost comically fast. Most concerning was the utter lack of a snarky comeback.

Once the person on the other end – Carol – finished, he took the phone from his ear and tapped a button.

"You're on speaker," he said, and, raising his voice, "Guys! Carol's got news."

The other occupants of the room – Avengers and aliens alike, thus far uninvolved in the conversation – stilled and gave them their attention.

A woman's voice spoke through the speakers, sounding as though she was standing right in their midst.

"Thanos has mobilized his forces," she said, her voice tight. She paused, then added, "He's coming for you."

Grim silence followed in her wake.

"It's time," Stark said. The time for explanations and preparation was over.

No matter what Stephen had slid into unknowingly – apparently an intergalactic war of which's outcome would decide the fate of the universe – he didn't have the option to turn his back.

Stephen would simply do what he'd always done: improvise and make up everything as he went, pretending like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Nobody could accuse Stephen Strange of shying away from a challenge.


A/N: Only two more to go!

Beta'd by the wonderful To Mockingbird, PyrothTenka and Igornerd!