Hello!

Yes, I am a horrible person. Well, I am a horrible author. I know my issue. I want to do time jobs but for some reason my brain can't understand how not to write minute by minute. You don't need to write minute my minute. Time jobs are your friends.

Anyhow, i hope you enjoy this chapter. I am sorry for the delay.

Chapter 17:

Running on Empty

Tony's mind was an emotional minefield with no chances of skillfully moving through it at the moment. He was a wild craze bull in a fine china shop. If he allowed himself to even pause for a second and think- truly think-, he would be stopped cold in his tracks. Pepper's name echoed loudly in his ear, screeching like blood thirsty bird. Pepper and he had broken up, gone to spiltsvilles, a few times, but this felt final. The End. A shot in the gut that Tony couldn't deal with even if he bled out. Those feels weren't welcome now—not that they were ever welcomed-, and he could not risk allowing those emotions to blind him.

Lately, Tony hadn't allowed himself much of anything, which included love or fun. He wasn't stupid, knowing exactly where those activities would lead him: six feet under. Maybe not exactly six feet under, depending on how he bit the dust. He could blown up. He could be drowned. So many ways. For a normal person, that might be terrifying, chilling to the core, but Tony wasn't a normal person. Death was once daunting and terrifying to Tony as it was once a pitch-black hole that no one could escape from. That has not changed, but yet, that was no longer the truth. While Tony had no interest whatsoever to meet the big maker in the sky, whoever that may be, his death wasn't the most frightening thing—if Death could be a thing- to him anymore. No, it had been replaced, replaced by the entire world dying. By a teenage boy disintegrating in his arms.

Shit, don't go there. Several haunting Tombstones flashed before his quivering eyes each with the name of a loved one: Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, Ayo, Peter, etc. Tony had no idea when or how Peter weaved so deeply into him in such a small amount of time, but it took that kid disappearing to know there were worse things in life than him dying. In Tony's eyes, Peter's death was the worst, and what made it worse was the fear in that kid's eyes, which stole the very breath from Tony's lungs. So, no. Tony could not let himself go down that route. Any kind of love talk was off the table. He needed to focus on Strange.

Without Strange, the world was fucken doomed.

Fuck.

The Iron Man, freezing rain striking the suit like an unforgiving whip, zipped through the air to Strange's last known location, his mind dreading the worst. If the Hydra agent hadn't spoken Strange's name, Tony's heart wouldn't be revolting, and he would consider this was that life changing event he heard about. Yet here he was, his heart pummeling in his chest and threatening to explode from his ribs like an alien parasite. Strange wasn't the only key player in Tony's master defeat Thanos plan, but he was a crucial piece. Shit, Strange almost was a match for Thanos by himself, lasting longer than anyone else. Tony would like to say he handled the purple grape by himself, but all he did was scratch his cheek. In order to save the day, a scratch wouldn't do.

This was why they needed Strange, a sane powerhouse.

You're only worried about Strange so you can use him. The little voice inside his head loudly shrieked. And as much as Tony wanted to protest—not wanting to use Strange-, it was true, wasn't it? You don't truly care. You just want to confirm Strange's health so he could fight and possibly die against Thanos. No denial was loud enough to cover that. The entire universe was in danger, and those Tony cared about were in danger. Was it wrong? It was perfectly reasonable to be panicked over Strange's death for the ripples that it would create in the timeline, and yet… And yet…Tony couldn't tell you why or what, but the Doctor itched something deep within him.

"Have you located him yet?" he asked for the 16th time. For a genius, the need to ask the same question over repeatedly was ludicrous, and Tony was annoyed at himself. However, he couldn't keep his mouth shut and asked yet again knowing quite well there was no change. If there was, the A.I. would have alerted him.

"No, Sir." Came JARVIS's dry, tired rely.

"Thanks." Tony mumbled. Seconds later, he opened his mouth. Oh, no you don't. He squeezed his mouth shut, biting his tongue hard in the process. Apart of his tone went numb after a while from the consistent pressure, his words now a jumbo mess. A cold tickle formed under his skin, gnawing at any resolve that he might've had. The lights on the street below bleed into a light glow, as the pounding of his heart echoed loudly in his ears, which he felt deep within his bones. Why the fuck is this taking so long? The question repeated in his head and this airy feeling in his chest demanded he go faster. His lung constricted painfully as the world spun on him, and his vision betrayed him.

"Sir, I am detecting a rising in your heartbeat."

"I'm fine." He bit out. He closed his eyes for a second in a halfhearted attempt to count down his panic. He failed on number seven.

"It might be-"

"I got it, JARVIS." Tony hissed. "We need to focus on Strange." It wasn't like Tony didn't know other technique to use when counting failed, having researched them until he was blue in the face. Plus, JARVIS had talked him down on a few one of these attacks. He could handle this.

"Yes, Sir."

The Iron Man suit was fast, breaking the sound barrier with ease, but yet, it felt like years had passed when the Iron Man suit finally touched down at Strange's last location. The wooziness in his chest almost vanished completely with the clanging sound of metal hitting the asphalt. There was still a sharp uptick in his pulse, the echo ear bleeding high. The ground pulsated in response, aligning with the tick in his head. A tick that grew with intensity. Keep it together. his mind ordered, his breath labored. How can you expect to beat Thanos like this?

Keeping the Iron Man helmet on, Tony took in the surroundings under the dark natural light. Night had fallen, laying a heavy blanket of darkness onto the land and hiding anything out of the ordinary. To any passerby, they wouldn't have noticed anything, but with the Iron Man Suit and an advance HUD display, it was like the sun had reappeared even at this late hour and the rain pouring from the sky. Strange's car lost traction in the heavy rain, smashed into the side of the mountain, ripping off the back bumper, and spun uncontrollably. It careened at the high rate of speed across the street, struck the guardrail, plummeted over a small cliff and rolled to a stop. Several trees, cloaked by the night, were down, trunks snapped and shattered. Large and small pieces of fiberglass and metal littered the hillside, a flatten tire hidden in the branches and brushes.

Tony's stomach flipped. This didn't bode well. Hovering two feet above the ground, Tony followed the devastation to the crash site. The closer he got to the final resting spot of the car the greater his concern grew, reaching a tipping point when he spotted it—or what Tony assumed was a car, a mangle mess. If Tony didn't know what it was, he wouldn't have guessed it. The windshield was shattered, the trunk ripped off. Both doors were heavily indented, almost to the point of turning inside out. The front of the car was gone, pushed into the front seat. The engine was a pancake, dark liquids leaking onto the ground.

"Life signs?" Tony asked, his breath heavy as if he ran four miles.

"Yes, Sir. It is faint."

Iron Man touched down on the wet grass near the door, his helmet automatically retracted. The rain struck his face instantly, soaking his hair. It traveled down his skin, seeping into the suit. "Strange," Tony called, his Iron Man encased hands grabbing the top of the door. The driver side window was smashed, broken glass shattered everywhere. The top of Strange's bloody head rested against the steering wheel. Bloody was an understatement as the entire left side of his face was covered in the crimson liquid. "Strange." He called again, his voice cracking.

The blood-spattered doctor's head bubbled at hearing his name, crushed pieces of glass fell from the abrupt movement. A soft, pained moan escaped his lips.

"Stephan," Tony uttered, Strange's first name feeling bizarre on his tongue. Gipping the bowed, torn, tattered door, Tony—the Iron Man's strength strengthening him- yanked it from the hinges and flung it. The door flew several feet, smacking hard against a tree behind him. The rain dampened the sound, creating a small sound bubble around them. The Iron Man suit fell to its knees. "Stephan." He softly spoke. He reached forward, placing his hand gently on his crushed shoulder. Another pained groan left Strange's lips as blood dripped from his mouth. Tony's heart skipped. "It's going to be okay." The rain, though not strong enough to rinse him clean, hit his face, his pale skin peeping through.

"Sir, do not move him." JARVIS strong voice slapped Tony back to reality. "I have alerted Fire and Rescue."

"What's their ETA?" Tony, his nerves on fire, didn't like the idea of waiting when Strange was bleeding out in front of him, his body mangled and broken. His hands were nothing more than a disfigured mess, bones poking out of the skin and tendon snapped. Tony didn't need a scan of Strange's hand to know how many breaks were along each finger able to count them all. He knew it was coming, knew Strange was going to lose feeling in his hands preventing him from performing surgeries, but it was another thing to see it.

"Five minutes."

Those minutes lasted forever, five mind numbing minutes, as Tony's eyes zoomed in on Strange's hands, hands that were slowly dying from the lack of blood. He had no idea why this was affecting him so badly, his own hands burning, but yet it did. You don't really care, Stark. You just want to use him. "Everything's going to be fine." He spoke softly to the Doctor, a slight hunch to his voice. Though Tony highly doubted Strange had a conscious awareness of what was happening, it brought Tony some satisfaction to bring some comfort to him. "I'm here, Stephen. I'm here."

The Doctor's eyes twitched, and he groaned, blood drizzling from his mouth. "S-S…s." Blood gurgled in this mouth.

"No. No. No." Tony chanted as he got to his feet. "Fuck this." His heart pounded in his chest as he pointed the laser on his armored hand at the car. He would not move Strange, but it would be a cold day in hell if he just stood here.

*O*O*

Once free from the car and stabilized, Stephen Strange was airlifted to the closest hospital with the best surgery team, which happened to Metro-General Hospital. To everyone's surprise and shock, Stark followed the air craft, his jaw locked, his annoyance high at the slow speed. When they arrived, Tony hovered in the air watching the helicopter land on the helipad. JARVIS zoomed in on the six-hospital staff (A Medical staff that ignored his existence), who retrieved Strange from the helicopter and moved him to a gurney. Once secured, a swarm of blue surrounded the unconscious man and went to work. One of the blue blobs was barking orders, but it was lost in the whistling whine of the blades.

Once the helicopter's blades stopped, Tony landed, the roof belting a bit under the hard landing, and disembarked from the suit a second later. The weight on Tony's chest lifted a bit as the staff worked on Strange, his heartbeat still beating. However, before he could follow the team in, the air crystallized, and a familiar sensation rushed him like a violent tide wave. His entire being shook as he recognized the magic that now filled the air. Tony let out a high-pitched groan, knowing exactly who this was; someone he had no interest in dealing with. Between Fury, Rogers, Pepper and Strange's crash, Tony's temper was short, and he was ready to snap at any second, blasting anything or anyone who looked at him funny. This included small animals, but not dealing with the Ancient One was out of the question when she stepped out of shadows with a heavy scowl.

"I know. I know." Tony waved at her letting his frustration roll out in his sigh.

"And yet we are here." The Ancient One countered, her eyes cold.

Tony groaned, the tension in his chest mounting. He didn't know what she expected from him, because there was a reason for his craziness: Thanos. They had to defeat him. Her rules didn't matter in the greater picture. "I have to make sure he was okay." He articulated slowly, his exasperation clear.

"Do you believe that I would allow harm to come to Doctor Strange?" she asked, drily.

Tony, his frustration written on his face, stepped away from the wizard and toward the roof's entry. Being invisible had its perks, but none of that mattered. It was odd, that he could admit: to be completely ignored by those a foot from him. People joked about being invisible, but no one had ever truly experienced it before (well besides the Wizards who had been doing this for hundreds of years). Tony could say he wasn't a fan. They said solitary was mentally traumatizing, but this was a worse form of torture: to see life but never able to live it. A punishment he was sure the Ancient One had used prior. "No," he replied, feeling semi stupid. He let out a huge indignant huff. "I assume this is his big life changing event that changes him forever, then?"

She followed after him, her robes flowing in the breeze. "I do understand your concerns, Mr. Stark." She spoke as if he was a child, while not answering his question.

Tony, eye twitching, didn't care for her sour tone. "So, if it was Hydra, would you have intervened?" he asked.

The Ancient One shot him an exhausted look. "We do not follow the same path." She paused, her narrowed eyes on his pout. "But we share the save goals. Do not be so foolish to think that I do not have an eye on the timeline. Doctor Strange is safe."

Tony nodded. If he trusted her—not that he had any reason not to-, that was one thing off his plate. She would not allow anything to happen to him. "Like a good compliment, you just need to hear it." He weakly smiled.

The stuff, who had taken Strange, had a seven-minute head start and rushed the Doctor directly into the operating room. Four frantic nurses with no care of who or what they ran into hurried passed them carrying countless blood bags. Tony couldn't see the type, but he assumed it was O Negative and for Strange. Strange's blood had spattered in the car, painting several compartments in a deep red. Any surgery would involve countless bags to replace what was lost and what would be lost. While Tony knew that Strange was in the best hands—hands that Strange would find fault in-, he still worried. Surgeries were always risky, and knowing the outcome didn't make it better.

"Is there anything in the timeline I need to know?" Tony questioned, as he followed the nurses. One of perks of being in the Mirror dimension, no one was there stop to him.

"Just continue on your currently path." Came her dry response.

Tony huffed as they came upon the operating theater. Why was this woman the least helpful person in history? "You do realize millions of lives are at stake, right?" He threw a quick incensed look at her. Shaking his head, he pushed opened the doors—an odd sensation when no one reacted—and stepped into a large viewing room, chairs reaching back several rows. From the room, the entire operating room was visible as well as the grim faces of the surgical team. Several observers stood in viewing room, each deadly focused on the operation. Christine Palmer, the only one he recognized, had her hands white knuckled around the railing along the glass. Her bloodshot eyes were wet, though no tears had fallen yet.

"Do you realize that your actions had moved up the timeline. Doctor's Strange's accident has occurred earlier than it should have." She countered, following Tony.

"How?" Stunned, Tony turned back, his eyes large. "How early?"

"Nearly two years," the Ancient One answered shortly, her arms folded tightly behind her back.

"Shit?" Panic bit at him.

She held up her hand to silence him. "It is of no consequences. It only gave Doctor Strange more time to prepare." She paused. "However, this cannot say for all of the changes you have created."

Tony paused. "How many changes?" His heart jumped. "What changes?!"

The Ancient One didn't answer, her eyes on Strange. One of the nurses spoke, nothing more than a whisper to another bystander. "Did you hear Iron Man found him? Even followed him here."

"Is he still here?" the other bystander asked, her voice going up.

Christine glanced over to the chatting staff, a glare glued to her face, but she did not speak. Anger danced in her eyes, her left twitching.

"The Iron Man suit is still on the roof, but no one knows where he is. He sorta disappeared." She spoke, bewildered.

"And they have no idea where he went?" Another nameless face asked.

"Enough chatter," Christine hissed, her stare drilling holes. The resentment in her voice was both intense and stunning.

Tony's eyes scanned the room one last time, taking in each chatting nurse and doctor, before focusing on Doctor Palmer. While each were tense and worried about their colleague, her concern was at a whole different level, her stress was through the roof. If Tony didn't know about their relationship prior, it was clear now. She loved him. "What changes?" he repeated, sternly, his lip straight.

"To know those changes will only hinder you," the Ancient One replied. "It will harm you. The future is a heavy burden to carry."

A harsh sigh escaped a Tony's dry lips. "If you were willing to help, I wouldn't be asking." He huffed before adding, "Or as stressed."

The Ancient One shoot him an unexpressed look. "I know you, Stark. It will not stop there."

Tony overdramatically rolled his eyes. "Oh, you know me?"

"After the number of futures I have watched, I know you better than you know yourself. I know the answers to the questions you have yet to ask yourself."

A heavy groan buried itself in his throat; Tony spoke, "Whatever this is-" He waved his hand in the air above his head like a train conductor, "I'm done. You can leave now." His voice was laced with frustration over her lack of action. If she wasn't going to provide answers, she might as well leave.

"Stark." A warning presented in her voice.

"Don't Stark me." He bit back. "I'm not a child."

One of the Ancient One's eyebrow shoot up. "You protest the label, but yet you act like one." She took a step forward. "So, if I have to keep remindering you, I shall. Stay-"

"I get it. I won't mess with Strange." He shot back. It isn't like we hadn't see each other.

"You had proven that I cannot leave you unattended, Stark," She spoke. "Strange cannot know you at this time."

"But he does," he whistled.

The Ancient One exhaled. "Everyone knows about Iron Man, b-"

"This is about his hands," Tony interrupted, a realization dawned on him as his eyes drifted to the surgeons. If he had a gag reflex, he would've puked from the amount of blood on the floor. Also covered in blood, several surgeons with different specialties worked on Strange at the same time to repair different body parts and broken blood vessels. It was a miracle that he was even alive…But his hands.

No matter his profession, Strange's hands were low on the priority list. You could live without the use of your hands. You could learn to adept. However, mentally was a different story. This was Doctor Strange, a brilliant surgeon, who spent his entire life to build up his craft. His hands were his bread and butter. His artform. To lose that, that could be worse than losing one's arm. Most could not recover from this

"Yes," the Ancient One responded. "His hands. Doctor Strange will not become the man he is meant to be if he does not reach that rock bottom first. It is this desperation that forces him to reflect on the person that he is and become who he is meant to be." She paused. "If you were not kidnapped and tortured in that cave, would you have become the man you are today? Would Iron Man exist? Or would you still be party boy Stark?"

Tony, a large breath deep in his lungs, wanted to deny it, just because the Ancient One—Seriously, what kind of name was that?- pissed him off. But there was no denying it. Iron Man would not have existed without that cold, dark cave. "No." he stated dryly. He stared at the wall, his eyes drilling a hole. "But this is mainly about my money."

"And your inability to control yourself. Can you deny your friends? You may strongly voice your dislike for Captain Rogers, but would you deny him monetary assistance if needed?"

That was another thing Tony wished he could refute. Why wouldn't he hate people the proper way? "No." He breathed. "But this is different. All the money in the world can't fix his hands."

The Ancient One hummed. "I believe that may once had been the truth, but just look how far technology has come." She stepped to Tony, her eyes falling to Doctor Strange, a shockingly pale. "A decade ago, the Iron Man suit would have thought to have been impossible. And are you now close in creating a nanobot suit?"

Tony harshly groaned. He missed his nanobots, missed his rapid deployable suit which could fulfill his every desire. Oh, it was a wonderful suit. "And your point?"

"Then we have Helen Cho and her creation of the Cradle. How fast did Agent Barton's injuries heal?"

It wasn't fair that she could use a future injury that may not happen against him. "I get it, but no one is Doctor McCoy." Yet. Tony added in his head. As a boy who enjoyed Star Trek as a child, it was interesting to see how much technology had grown. Science fiction was no longer Fiction. Aliens were real. Tony had been to space. Giant starships existed… Wait, why didn't he own a starship? He wanted one… Wait, focus, Stark.

"Hope is a dangerous thing, especially when the goal is unfeasible."

"We need hope." Hope was the only thing driving Tony at the moment. It was the only thing refilling his empty gas tank. It fueled him when he had nothing else.

Ancient One hummed. "Before he can feel that hope, he needs to fall."

Tony didn't respond, resting his head against the cold glass. His deep breaths fogged the glass as his eyes were Zeroed in on the monitors. Strange's stats were all over the place, beeping like a mad man; considering the amount of blood he had lost it was normal. However, the Ancient One's presence was enough to keep his chained to Earth. "Fine."

"Now, are you ready, Stark?"

"For what?"

"It is time to go

He wanted to say no, needing to reinsure himself, but the look she was giving him stopped Tony in his tracks. He glanced at Christine, his eyes soft, as he spoke. "Okay."

*O*O*

The surgery took seven long hours, and in that time, Tony, being the maddening genius that he was, was able to convince the Ancient One to allow him to visit Strange in the real world as long as he left before the Doctor woke. With the number of drugs that he was on and the medical induced coma they put him in, Strange wouldn't wake until the next morning. Tony was tempted to break this promise, and besides the fact he was too impatient, the Ancient One wasn't someone he wanted to piss off. She could end him before he could move an inch and turn him inside out. While he would deny it—especially to a future Strange-, this woman scared the shit out of him. He was in no way shape or form going to break his promise to her

Tony, worry lines plastered in his forehead and dark shadows under his eyes, silently stood at the doorway and stared, his eyes focus on the bed. It was a heartbreak scene: Christine Palmer, dried tears on her cheek, was hunched over in the chair, her head resting on the bed as she tried to be as close as she could to him. One of her hands laid on his chest, her fingers wrapped in Strange's hospital grown. Even though half of his injuries were covered by a blanket, there was no denying the extent of them. Strange was lucky to be alive. A heavy outlined of a plastic boot was visible through the thin blanket, his leg broken in several places. His eyes were now darkened, colorful bruises covering half his face. His lip was busted, and a long thin gash ran down his face. His arms hovered two feet above his body, held up by a pulley system to keep them straight. Tiny metal rods stuck out of his hands, nasty angry incisions laced by a black thread lined the length of fingers. It reminded Tony of a horror movie after the villain had gotten you.

Tony's eyes narrowed in on Strange's hands, a physical pain shooting through his chest, as he recalled waking up in that cave connected to the car battery. The fear and dread were overwhelming, but even there, hope existed. Tony, even after days of nonstop torture, hadn't given up. His perseverance could not be broken; that could not be said about Strange. While torture was physically, it was mostly mental. Getting over mental demons weren't easy, and heck, Tony wasn't over his mental demons yet. But physical limitations were a bitch and just as devastating. You didn't get over a physical disability. It was only acceptance and moving forward, but that was harder said than done. People liked to think they were evolved and didn't care about the physical stuff, but they weren't. If the Ancient One was to be believe, Doctor Strange took the lost of his hands like the lost of a family member.

Letting out a deep sigh, Tony should stop this train of thought and leave. After seeing Strange's steady heartbeat and the man, Tony had everything he needed: Strange was alive. Yet, he was frozen. A lot of Tony's plans rested on that him, and while the Ancient One reinsured him that Strange would not die, a part of him didn't believe it. And now that you have seen him, you can leave, his mind whispered. You- Footsteps behind him drew his focus.

"Who- Tony Stark?"

Tony, exhaling deeply, turned to the voice ready to meet a crazy fan. He had met a few so far, and he had no interest in meeting anymore. They were too touchy feely for his liking. "Sssh," he hushed. "They're sleeping." He smiled largely. Like the other staff, the newcomer was nameless to him, but on his white coat, the name Dr. Nicodemus West was stitched. A masked face flashed in Tony's mind, and it took Tony a second to realize that West was the surgeon that worked on Strange's hands.

"I heard Iron Man was here. Wasn't expecting you here?" Dr. West paused, titling his head slightly to the left. "But I suppose two rich egotistic genius would be friends." His tone was enriched with bitterness.

Okay, not a fan. "I don't know Doctor Strange," he said, rolling his tongue while ignoring the insult. For some reason, Strange didn't seem like the kind of person to have friends. Tony, before he rose like a phoenix from the ashes of his old life, didn't have friends besides Pepper – if she could've been called that at the time- and Rhodey. He still wasn't a good friend. He could assume Strange was very much the same way. "But I know enough to know he doesn't have friends."

West snorted. "Ain't that the truth."

Tony had no interest in having a conversation with this man. "Have a good day," he bowed to the Doctor.

"Wait." He uttered, surprised painted his face.

Tony waved at Nicodemus West. "Things to do and people to kill. You know."

"Iron Man stuff?" West looked at him sideways.

Tony hummed in response, and with that, he headed toward his suit.

*O*O*

Tony ignored both Friday and JARVIS when he stepped onto the tower as they rambled on about updates and questions from the team regarding his disappearance. His consistent disappearances were triggering doubts, and no one had been silent about their displeasure. FRIDAY mentioned a small novel could be made from the number of questions, and though JARVIS did not have a face, Tony heard an eyeroll. However, Natasha wasn't verbal with her disapproval. Instead, she did a deep dive on Doctor Strange, and there was no doubt that she now knew where Strange went to school. She might've thought she was sneaky, but both JARVIS and FRIDAY clocked her. While it thoroughly pissed Tony off, he would literally go ape shit if he spoke to her now. For his sanity, he would not be having that conversion with her at this moment.

The lab went into lockdown the second he entered. "Let's start planning that internship." Tony uttered. That was something positive he could focus on.

*O*O*

A day had passed since he locked himself into his lab. Or had it been days? Tony lost count. He glanced at the calendar. Oh shit? 3 days? He blinked, his surprise washing over him. Where had the time gone? Shaking his head, he picked up his coffee cup and brought it to his lips. "How are things in the land of the living?"

"Sir, the others are inquiring about your status." JARVIS announced.

Tony snorted into his coffee. At least, they waited. Did they really care? Or did they just care about the doors he could open? Where did this come from? He wondered, shaking his head. Sure, he had issues with his 'former' teammates—the future versions of them anyhow-, and he had trust issues in general, but this was something else. There was a bitterness inside him that wasn't directed at Rogers and the gang. If he thought about it—truly thought about it-, he could guess where this was coming from. He was doing the same he was accusing Roger and Romanoff of doing: he was using Strange. Yea, but you aren't using his money to look for the man who murdered his father. The boiling rage ignited inside of him at that painful reminder. "Tell them they don't need to worry." He spoke, barely able to keep the fury out of his voice.

"Maybe, they would be less worried if you got some rest, Boss." FRIDAY added. "Studies shown that Sleep disruptions have substantial adverse short- and long-term health consequences."

Tony signed. "Have you been reading medical textbooks again."

"No, Boss. This is from the US National Library of Medicine National Institutes of Health," FRIDAY added cheerfully. "Sleep disruption is associated with increased activity of the sympathetic nervous system and hypothalamic–pituitary–adrenal axis, metabolic effects, changes in circadian rhythms, and proinflammatory responses. In otherwise healthy adults, short-term consequences of sleep disruption include increased stress responsivity, somatic pain, reduced quality of life, emotional distress and mood disorders, and cognitive, memory, and performance deficits."

"Have you been suffering from performance deficits?" JARVIS asked, innocently. "Or a reduced quality of life?"

Neither JARVIS nor FRIDAY were true AIs, unable to deny a direct order, but if he didn't know better, he would have thought they were proud of themselves. "Guys." He puffed his cheeks.

"Long-term consequences of sleep disruption in otherwise healthy individuals include hypertension, dyslipidemia, cardiovascular disease, weight-related issues, metabolic syndrome, type 2 diabetes mellitus, and colorectal cancer. All-cause mortality is also increased in men with sleep disturbances." FRIDAY continued.

"I get it." He sighed with a deep breath.

"Agent Romanoff, with just cause, has been insistence. She is worried about your mental state after your break up with Miss Potts." FRIDAY added. "The others have also voiced their concern."

Was the team chatting about it like a bunch of school children? Tony let out a sigh. The words 'we're done' were never spoken, but they hung in the air like a toxic gas. The words did not need to be spoken, even if Tony had wished that they had been to make it feel real. The break was for the best, especially in his current state. He wasn't in the right mind space for a relationship. Granted, it never felt real in this timeline. Maybe that was why he wasn't as broken up by it as he should've been. Though, it wasn't to say he wasn't shattered by it. When he thought about Pepper, his heart ached. Her happy smile danced across his vision, and a half-hearted smile graced his face.

His heart clenched stealing his breath. He was never going to see her secret smile again just for him. He was never going to feel her kiss on his cheek again, her breath on skin. He was going to miss her weight in his lap and her feather touch when she climbed in. He was going to miss waking up to her in the morning—even if it had been a while since he had seen. She was a beauty woman and deserved better. She deserved a man who put her first. She deserved a man who would take her feelings into consideration. She deserved a man not haunted and broken. She deserved a future.

Tears formed in the corner of his eyes. He would miss her, and he would grieve their relationship, but this was for the best. He needed to focus on the future. He needed to focus on fighting Thanos. Maybe, in the future, they could find their way back to each other. No, his mind screamed at him. That was selfish of him and he couldn't do that to her. He couldn't do that to himself. He needed someone who would take all of him, including Iron Man. "Why do people care about my love life?" he mumbled under his breath.

"I cannot say, but the breakup is currently trending, Sir." Came JARVIS dry response. Seconds later, one of the monitors popped on, displaying multiple new articles on the subject. Several more articled appeared a few seconds later.

Tony groaned. "Already?"

"Did you expect something else, Sir?"

Maybe, it was JARVIS's cold judging tone, but Tony's eye twitched. "I supposed so." Anyhow, he had no interest in spending any more time talking about this. "But let's change the subject." And that they did.

*O*O*

Several days had passed and Tony still hadn't left the lab. One thing he learned from the future was that a kitchen and a full bathroom in the lab was amazing. However, it didn't stop people from trying to break in, but his walls were impenetrable. No one was getting in short from using a ton of C4. Ayo, who was irritated by the entire situation, returned, and for some ungodly reason, joined up with Natasha. Tony surmised it had to do with the number of days he had locked himself in. Sure, he had locked himself in the lab before, disappearing for only a day, but this was nearly 2 weeks. Ayo had never expected it before, and it was pretty clear she did not like it.

So, she teamed up with Natasha with a distorted grin on her face. Both ladies were super insistent, scanning for any sort of weakness, and while Tony understood Ayo's persistent, it didn't make sense for Natasha. Was this sick perverse version of not taking No for an answer? Whatever it was, Tony was bored. Nevertheless, there were a few times that Natasha and Ayo had nearly smashed past his codes and into his lab. They might've if he didn't have two AIs and Tony wasn't a genius from future. Shuri would've hacked her way by now if Ayo called in for backup. He was glad she didn't.

In his days locked in his lab, Tony had been productive. He, a peace settling in his belly, created three additional suits, though none were as impressive as the Mark L. He was still working on his nanobots. He had set up the internship program, and in two weeks, Peter and friends would be stepping into the tower with large smiles. God, Tony was looking forward to that. Sure, he was doing this for Peter—yup, still creepy when taken out of context- , but he was oddly giddy about doing science with the next generation. He had no idea why, but he cherished the idea of sharing his love of science with people who loved it just as much.

Normally, the idea of teaching weirded Tony out, not having the patience to teach rowdy kids. Any screaming kid or teenage would be shoved out a window if he was in charge. However, all of the kids coming for this internship wanted to learn. It was easier to teach kids who want to be there than those who did not. No doubt these kids wanted to discover. Wanted to examine the world around them. He could already imagine these kids eating up all the info he would give them while testing him at every turn. That Michelle Jones might drive him insane, considering the essay she wrote. She was definitely going to give any future boyfriend or girlfriend—not judging- a run for their money.

"How is everyone doing downstairs?" Tony questioned, exhaustion working its way through him.

"Fury had gone underground, Sir, and has not been in contact. Mister Wilson and Captain Rogers are currently tracing Hydra's footprints in an attempt to locate the remaindering super soldiers." JARVIS replied. "They have not been successful yet."

"You are already aware what Ayo and Agent Romanoff have been doing." FRIDAY added. "And JARVIS and I are in hundred percentage agreement."

Tony wearily groaned, throwing an arm across his eyes, as he flung himself back in his chair dramatically and slid down until his butt was at the edge of the seat. "I don't know what you want from me." He rolled his eyes. "I'm saving the world here."

"The key, Boss, is not to kill yourself before you do." FRIDAY replied, sassily.

"Who programed you?" Tony shot back as his arm slipped down to allow him to peep over. "We need some words."

"You did already, Sir. Last night. You spoke with yourself at length." JARVIS added. "You were quite proud of yourself."

Tony pushed up on the armrests, straightening up. "You both are getting donated to a college. Pick one. Any one. I am nice like that."

"I would count it as a win, Sir. You're smiling."

Surprise crossed Tony face as his head snapped to the side to stare at his reflection. The smile was no longer there, but Tony had caught a glimpse. "Fine," he stated. "You can stay."

"As if we were going anywhere." FRIDAY replied.

Tony groaned, his bones cracking, as he stood, his eyes focusing on the empty kitchen shelves. If it would make his two AIs—if that were such a thing- happy, he would go down and get something to eat. "I created monsters."

*O*O*

"Oh, am I collecting children?" Tony asked as he stepped into the kitchen. At the counter sat Barton, whispering away with Natasha in a harsh Russian.

Clint's angry eyes snapped to him. "Oh, look it's Stark. I thought you died." He gave Tony a heavy eye roll, annoyance fastened to his face. Natasha didn't say anything. Just stared, her eyes taking in every inch of him.

"Still angry about shield?" Tony hummed, itching at the baby hair along his jaw line. I need to shave. Anger probably wasn't Barton's best move at this moment, considering Tony was ready to blast anyone who looked at him funny. His mood was better than when he stepped into the lab, but he was still an emotional blackhole

Before a colorful insult could leave Clint's lips, Natasha got to her feet and smiled. "I'm glad to see Doctor Stephen Strange is alive."

There was a telling look in her eyes that Tony didn't like. "Why do you feel like you have the right to stick your nose into places it does not belongs?" he asked, any good mood gone. "Someone might cut it off."

"Maybe, if you let us in and not locked yourself in your lab like a child, I wouldn't have to." She gave him a scornful look. "Why is this Stephen Strange so important?" she asked. Clint's calculating eyes bounced between the two. "He has to be important, considering you picked him over Pepper."

"Why the hell does it matter to you?" Tony shot back. He hated the idea that he picked Strange over Pepper, but it was true. He picked Strange over Pepper.

"Because you're hiding things, Tony. Keeping us in the dark. Maybe, if you let us in."

"I feel like we had this conversion before." Tony moaned.

"It's a simple fix."

Barton leaned back, resting his back against the edge of the counter top. "If I didn't know better, I would think you two were married." There was chuckle in his voice that wasn't there a second ago.

Tony nailed the archer with a deep scowl. Why did people say that? Who wanted to be in a relationship that was all conflict? But that was your relationship with Pepper. She didn't want that. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to Natasha. "No, it isn't. You don't need to know who Stephen Strange is. You just want to know."

Natasha exasperatedly grumbled, her nails digging into her palm. "No, Tony." She retorted, swallowing. "I wouldn't have…" She paused, searching for the right word. Her lip was flat. "Let's cut the crap. Can we be honest? I'm exhausted."

Barton reached back for the glass on the table. "We all would like to know."

Tony's blood was boiling. "Why don't you just go back to your wife and shut up." he shot back.

Barton's eyes turned cold. "Wife? That's the second time you meant a wife." His eyes bulged from their socket. "How the hell do you know about her?" He leapt to his feet, his finger sharply pointed at Tony. He took a few large steps forward. "Stark, you better start talking."

Natasha stepped between them, a hand up to stop Clint. She shot him a look. "You need to explain now."

Crap. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? He was his worst enemy "I just know things." Tony countered, harshly.

"That-" Barton started before being interrupted.

"Is everything okay?" Ayo asked, stepping into the room. She pinned everyone with a deadly stare. Wilson and Rogers trailed behind her, a tablet in Wilson's hand. The tension in the air was enough to kill someone.

Barton's eyes drilled a hole into Tony's face, but he did not speak. Though, Tony knew exactly what was going through Clint's expressive eyes: a clear threat. "Yes," Tony replied, sarcastically, and taking a deep breath. "Just a minor disagreement." He paused, taking note of how close those three were. "Did you join a band and not tell me?"

Ayo just stared. "This is what happens when you lock yourself in a lab," she deadpanned with a hefty eyeroll. "We were attempting to track the Super soldiers, but we lost them in Portsmouth, Virginia."

Sam looked visibly uncomfortable in the heavy tension. "Um..." He shook his head. "I think we should get some boots on the ground to check it out. There's only so many things we can learn from here." He replied, his eyes on the tablet.

Tony's mind went to Maria Hill, who had coordinated the Avengers in the last timeline. He didn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past, but he might want to bring her in. "You can take the quinjet to check it out. Whatever you need, let me know." And yet, you are redoing the past.

"What about the truth? Will you gift us with that?" Clint asked, wryly. "We're supposed to be a team, right? The Avengers. So tell us." His stare was frosty.

As much as Stark didn't want to admit it, Clint had a point, a value point. They needed to know. Maybe, not everything, but there were things that they should know. If they had any chance of beating Thanos, Tony had to drop his grievances and they had to be a team. A united team, which needed trust; yet, the idea of trust scared the crap out of him. The muscles around the heart constricted, knocking the air from his lungs. His body tensed like he was electrocuted. "We aren't team yet, Barton. I'll let you know when we are." With that, Tony turned to leave, waving his hand in the air.

His name echoed behind a few times, but he ignored them. However, Rogers' voice wasn't something he could ignore, his voice booming like a loud speaker. "Let him be, Barton." His voice was firm, a clear order laced within the words.

Tony quickened his case, bolting out the door. His heart threatening to pop out of his chest like a jackhammer, Tony plastered himself against the wall and listened.

"Sorry, Cap, but he can't keep stuff to himself and expect us to go alone with it. We all deserve to know." Clint hissed. "I need to know how he knows the stuff he does. Do I need to worry about my…" He drifted off, cutting himself off.

"Clint," Natasha warned.

Steve sighed loudly. "Stark is going through something."

"So?" Clint bit.

Sam exhaled slowly. His exhaustion and frustration rolled off his tone like a sword. "Stark is clearly suffering through some form of PTSD. If you want him to open up, this—whatever this was—can't happen." There was a pause, a loud groan cut through the air. "I get it. I'm the new guy here and I don't have whatever history like you guys do, but come on." Sam exhaled, breathing through his nose. "I clocked it at my house, and it is screaming at me now."

"I saw it." Came Steve's voice.

"And I doubt Stark ever got any treatment for it. Unlike us, he was never prepared for it, never informed. He was never required to seek treatment before returning to active duty like any soldier or agent." There was a pause. "I'm surprise Rhodes, a military man, never forced the issue."

Whatever or however Steve responded to Sam Tony didn't hear as he continued down the path. He had no interest in Sam's assessment of him. "J, FRI, we got some work today."

"I would suggest sleep, Boss."

"No," Tony shot back.

Author Note:

Oh, my. I would be scared of the Ancient One too, Tony. No worry. LOL However, what has Tony done? I am sure Strange will hear about Tony's visit. ;)

And yes, Steve and Sam are catching on. As stated before, while this is Tony's POV, I do not want to be Anti Captain America. Steve won't be a total asshole. So while Steve wants answers, he isn't going to be a dick about it. It is now in Tony's court to see it.

until the next time!