Setting:

In my head canon Tony survived using the infinity stones because Strange knew what was coming and was prepared. The version of the future where they won required Stephen to give the time stone to Thanos and Tony do the snap, it didn't mean he had to die.

Strange and Wakanda's doctors managed to keep Tony alive, but he suffered permanent injuries (e.g. the loss of his arm and ear). Tony's recovery was long and arduous but while his body recovered, his mental issues worsened.

This takes place over a year after Tony saved the world from Thanos and he is barely recovered enough to start to work again. Nevertheless, he has started t join the Avengers in a few easy missions despite his doctor's protests.

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Chapter 1

"Stark! Watch out!" Clint bellowed. For some unknown reason it took Tony longer than expected to try to dodge the small missile. It hit his damaged shoulder with enough force to make Strange and everyone around gasp. Iron Man rolled in mid air through the enormous dark warehouse they were in, fighting the week's villain. He crashed into a support beam and then the ground, where he remained, unmoving. By the time Strange reached him, the Hulk and Wanda had already overpowered the burglars from another dimension they had fought.

"Stark!" Stephen barked and when Iron Man didn't move he reached for the face plate's release. During their recent missions, he had learned a lot about the suit - and even worn it on one occasion.

"Ouch. That was stupid," Tony didn't move but rolled his eyes.

Strange blew out air through his teeth in relief.

"What happened?"

"Getting old I guess, I am not as fast as I was," Tony replied airily and sat up.

Strange could see the pain and the bravado he was putting up, but didn't believe for a second it was just that. Tony had seemed idle in mid air, being the ideal target.

"All clear," several voices announced and Strange watched Tony get up.

"Apparently, we are no longer needed. I want to have a look at that shoulder, we are going to the Sanctum," Strange announced and opened a portal.

"What? Why? This is not an emergency. Hell, this will probably not even need treatment except maybe an ice pack. I can have Cho check me over back at the facility," Tony retorted but Stephen could hear how shaken he was.

"Come on, this will only take a minute and I would like to see the upgrades on the prosthesis you made last week," Stephen said but Tony had already closed the faceplate and kicked off the ground.

The Avengers had temporarily moved back into the tower while a new facility was built. It was not far. Stephen decided not to follow Stark but return to Bleeker Street. Stark was a grown man and had the right to chose in whose medical care he trusted. Before Stephen stepped into his portal, he addressed Banner, who was standing close by, looking a bit worried about Tony's sudden disappearance, too.

"Make sure he is checked over, would you?"

Banner nodded.

It was roughly three hours later and Stephen was in the library when he sensed a visitor. It was early evening and he didn't expect anyone. When he entered the hallway to greet whoever it was, he found Iron Man standing at the foot of the staircase.

"Stark? What happened?"

For some long moments the armor didn't move, then - without Tony tapping his chest - it retreated into its housing. He was still wearing the same suit he had worn when the mission began and looked banged up. Stephen narrowed his eyes.

Had there been another emergency? Or had Tony been doing something else in the meantime?

"Did you fly back to the tower after you left us in the warehouse?" he asked, trying to figure it out.

Stark evaded his gaze but after a moment there was a minute shake of the head. Alarm bells started to ring in Stephen's head.

"Where have you been? What happened?" Stephen stepped closer to the other man.

But instead of answering, Tony shook his head, his gaze scampered back and forth over the floor.

"Stark?" he asked, but there was no reaction. "What happened?" he repeated, gentler this time.

Tony took breath but the words didn't come, he looked lost. Then he staggered over to the staircase and sat down. Strange followed him.

Tony's eyes were empty and he blinked more often than usual.

"Where have you been?"

No response?

"Where were you in the past three hours?"

"'oof?" the word was barely recognizable when it finally came.

"What? What roof?"

"'ome sk'scap'r?" Tony pressed out.

"What were you doing there?"

"N'thin'… Waitin'."

"For what?" Stephen asked and knelt down in Tony's line of sight. Tony flinched.

"Don' know… You 'ave some coffee?"

Stephen bit his lip. Something was going on and he needed to find out what. Maybe having coffee would give Tony the chance to get himself together enough to tell him what happened.

"Sure, let's go to the kitchen," he offered. But when he stood up and made a few steps towards it, Tony didn't follow. "Come on," he encouraged him and went back to help the other man up, but when he touched him, Tony once more flinched. He allowed being helped up, but probably only because he was too much out of it to care.

While preparing the coffee Stephen tried to talk to Stark but he never responded, he just sat in the chair and stared into nothingness. Strange wondered if Tony was in shock for some unknown reason. It certainly looked like it. He fetched a blanket and urged Tony to slip out of his suit jacket, which he did kind of on auto pilot. It was soaked with sweat and smelled accordingly. Stephen slowly wrapped the blanket around Tony's shivering shoulders.

For almost ten minutes, he tried to find out what had happened, but Tony remained unresponsive. It gave him time to examine the healing. The scars on his face had faded, clearly Cho's work. Even his beard had started to regrow. Tony's artificial ear was perfect handicraft. Even knowing it was a prosthesis, the doctor was unable to see where it ended and real skin began.

Stephen then changed course and began to talk about nonsense, like some of his travel experiences in Nepal. He continued and described a toddler at the coffee shop around the corner whose mother seemed to 'live' there and that adored him, and how the cloak had once taken a bath in the tub when it needed cleaning. He knew Tony had somewhat resurfaced when he smiled about the fact that the Sanctum seemed to have at least 35 inkjet printers piled up somewhere and none of them was functioning. Stephen continued to talk about random things while he cleaned up the kitchen, but was careful to which amount he mentioned magic.

"I guess I had a flashback," Tony just stated at some point, his tone almost defiant.

Stephen didn't stop reordering the cupboard but listened carefully, although Tony seemed lost for words after that.

"Followed by an episode of dissociation?" he carefully probed after a prolonged silence.

"Guess, so."

The conversation stopped once more and Tony managed to lift the cup to his mouth with his artificial arm. His control of the prosthesis had improved enough to enable him to use it almost naturally. He took the first sip from his coffee, then winced because it was probably cold by now. Stephen poured a fresh one into another cup and offered it to the engineer.

"You remember how you got here?"

Tony frowned, "Vaguely?"

"Did Friday deposit you on my doorstep?"

"Probably. Wanted to stay on the roof."

"Which roof?" Stephen wanted to know.

"Some random roof I landed on when…" Tony cringed and stopped speaking.

"…When the panic attack hit," Stephen finished the sentence.

"Yeah."

"You remember what caused it?"

"It was one of those that just happen, no particular cause."

"One of those?"

Something in Tony's pocket chirped.

"What is it, Fri?"

It chirped again.

"Speak," Tony ordered, he must have muted his AI.

"I distinctly remember you cursing Wanda, boss," the artificial voice stated.

"Right," Tony scratched his forehead and sighed. "One of those."

"Those?" Stephen asked again and felt kind of stupid.

"Our first meeting was… complicated. She used her magic on us."

Things suddenly fell in place, Stephen had always assumed there was more than just banter about Tony's reluctance when he was faced with magic.

"Who exactly is us?" he wanted to know.

"The original Avengers. We were on a mission and she worked for Hydra and tried to mess us up," Tony explained. "Put things in our heads to scare us."

"And you never mentioned this? I could have helped."

"It happens only now and then these days," Tony discounted but Stephen needed to know more.

"It happens twenty-seven point eight six percent more often than before boss faced Thanos for the first time," Friday informed them.

"Well, thank you Friday. Do I have to mute you again?" Tony spat.

"Let me see it," Strange stated.

"What?" Tony visibly shrank back.

"I want to examine it so I can help," Stephen explained.

"NO!" Tony was up and out of the seat immediately.

"Stark, the only way I can do something about it is that you trust me and allow me to figure out what she did." Stephen stood up, too and made a step towards Stark, who made a step back. He shook his head silently, repeatedly; and Stephen could see the panic radiating off him.

So, Stephen demonstratively sat back down again. He was afraid the other man would bolt and didn't want to drive him away. A long silence followed.

"I think enduring this any longer would be worse than allowing me to try to treat it," Stephen said in a careful tone.

Tony deflated and grabbed the back of the nearest chair for support.

"You have enough trauma on your plate, you don't need the additional stress of whatever she planted there artificially," Stephen added.

After sinking back into his chair, Tony rubbed his forehead with his flat hand. Stephen could see his exhaustion and wondered briefly if the other man had only sat down because he didn't trust his legs to keep him standing.

"Fine, do what you must," Tony said, his voice hoarse.

Ten minutes later, they had moved to the library; Tony was now in an comfy armchair and Strange on a stool opposite him.

Without much introduction, Tony felt Strange grab his head. It was an intrusive touch although it was unexpectedly gentle.

Strange tilted his head sideways, to the left. Out of the corner of his eyes, Tony saw him conjure up a surprisingly small magical mandala that wasn't even five centimeters in diameter. It was only when Strange's hand moved towards his temple that Tony felt the panic kick in again.

What the hell was he doing here, trusting that arrogant magician to actually help him? He must have been already under his spell to agree to that.

"Stark?" Stephen halted his movements, the glowing thing only a few inches from the side of Tony's head.

"Fine. 'm fine." He wanted to get rid of the remnants of Wanda's magic and she was too inexperienced to remove it herself, they had tried. Strange was right, on top of his PTSD and other health issues it was too much to bear. Tony gulped. He could do this. Needed to do this. "Go on."

Strange's eyes narrowed and he let his hands sink. Tony was aware he was having a hard time agreeing to this. He desperately tried to hide his anxiety but the sweat on his forehead was probably not hard to miss. For a brief moment, Tony wondered how much Strange knew about the torture or all the other things he had endured.

"For fuck's sake, get this over with!" Tony hissed between clenched teeth and tensed up, expecting to see magic flare up any moment.

"Relax and close your eyes," Strange huffed but he didn't sound particularly empathetic. The idea to do so unsettled Tony, and Strange's tone was not very reassuring. He called himself to order. He was Iron Man, he could do this. He had endured much worse.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A moment later, something like wind brushed over his face. Tony knew he didn't move physically, but it felt as if gravity lessened.

The weightlessness intensified.

"You're okay in there, Stark?" Strange asked and his voice was muffled and far away.

Tony managed to nod.

His head was grabbed once more and he felt the sizzling of magic on one side of his head, felt it brush against his hair. Something touched his scalp but he couldn't determine if it was material or magic. A slightly burning sensation followed.

For some long seconds nothing happened, then suddenly, Tony was once more in the vision Wanda had planted in his mind, felt the horror of witnessing his team lying dead or dying at his feet. Since the incident he had tried to stay away from the image, more or less successful; although it haunted his sleep on a regular basis. Out of reflex, he tried to push the memory away and it faded. Fighting Thanos, seeing Peter dust away and using the stones had left him with similarly horrible memories, but they felt raw at another level.

"In contrast to your actual memories, this one was artificially planted. It has no right to be there," Strange's voice whispered from a distance and Tony cringed because obviously, the sorcerer was sensing this thoughts.

"I need to see it. Don't push it away" Strange stated in a no nonsense way.

A moment later, Tony was in Sokovia again, surrounded by death and devastation. The anxiety the situation evoked suddenly exploded and he had a hard time trying to keep it at bay.

"Just breathe, Stark. It can't harm you," Strange whispered and some kind of diffuse calm washed over him. To Tony's surprise he was suddenly able to sense the red tendrils of Wanda's magic that invaded his mind. Red ghosting in the mist, like dissolving drops of blood that had their own will. They seemed threatening and Tony's mind instinctively shied away.

"Stay still, Stark," Strange huffed. Tony knew he didn't hear the word with his ears this time, they were in his mind.

The memories returned and with them came a dull thudding in his head, it intensified and turned into pain. Undulated panic washed over him and became more and more intense. He felt Strange try to countervail and even them out but it only intensified his headache.

A chocked gasp escaped his lips.

"Stark?"

He was dragged back, out of his head and into reality.

"Can you hear me?"

He could hear Strange's words, but the all encompassing anxiety disabled his means of communication.

There was no air. His airway felt blocked, his chest frozen.

"Focus," Strange ordered.

He was suffocating, it felt like a cramp was seizing up his rib cage. The strain on his heart made his heartbeat painful and irregular. In blind panic he fumbled for his collar, which felt too tight, although he was well aware that it was not the reason for what was happening.

Something heavy wrapped around him from the back. The touch unsettled him even more. He was lifted out of the chair and manhandled to the ground.

The choking sounds he made were loud in his ears and they fuelled his distress. A flat hand settled down on his chest, above the suit housing, and something seemed to gently knock against his reconstructed sternum. An odd sensation spread across his ribcage and suddenly, he was able to suck in a deeper breath. Gentle fingers tilted his head backwards and after that moved to his carotid artery and rested there.

"Breathe… just breathe."

Tony's struggle for air and his position on the ground left him exposed and vulnerable. Those were the only things his brain registered. His reflex was to try something - anything - to escape the situation. He couldn't think straight any longer, the panic had kicked him into survival mode.

"Stark, don't!" A voice barked, but all Tony knew was there was a threat and he needed to evade it. He barely heard the words and couldn't make sense of the them. Something was pinning him in place. He needed to get free.

"I am sorry." The same voice, but it was oddly gentle.

Before Tony had the chance to make a move, the hand shifted from his neck to his forehead and without further warning he lost consciousness.

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A/N: Visit me on twitter to see my Avengers Fanart, nick name in the story pic.