Hey all!

I am sorry. I get distracted easily. By the TV, By Music, By Fan fic. I just need to lock myself in a white room. LOL

However, here you go! I think this chapter fought me a bit as we finally get to see Strange and I am worried about him being OC.

Let me know what you think!

Chapter 14:

Peppered Gray

To say Tony wasn't thinking was an understatement, a massive understatement. With everything disappearing around him, his brilliant yet chaotic mind zoomed in on Strange, his focus narrowing. He wasn't quite sure what he expected or his next course of action. Tony, ears ringing, heard Strange's name and took off like a bat out of hell without a second thought. Planning wasn't at the top of his mind or anywhere else in fact, and he was left wandering about the hospital aimlessly—pain starting to shoot through him, stunning him. Where the hell did this stabbing pain come from? Okay, he knew where it came from, but shit, it slammed him out of nowhere. Considering he was fixated on saving the future, it wasn't surprising. With steadfast adrenaline coursing through your veins like a roaring river, pain was nonexistent.

Locking his jaw and fighting past the pain, Tony forced himself forward and back to the matter at hand: a plan. A plan that didn't exist. He wasn't one to plan, planning took the fun out of things; plus, sometimes planning too much ruined the plan. This was why he dropped in and took everyone and thing out with extreme prejudices. That wasn't to say he didn't plan, considering he was currently following the most tedious, everchanging plan known to man. However, right now, the man famous for no plans wished he had a plan. Or at least, knew what to say to Strange… or anyone.

This would cause questions. What the hell was Tony Stark doing here? He did not chill in hospitals, even if he was bleeding out and drying. Hospitals were the last place on earth he would be, and anyone who knew him knew that; he was a fish out of water in this place, and there was no hiding no matter the disguise. Sun glasses, no matter the size, was not going to stop people from recognizing him. He had that kind of face. There was also the fact that he looked completely ridiculous ducking behind corners in his baseball cap and sunglasses, looking for Strange. Like a childless adult in the playground, he was waiting for the cops to be called.

With a large, cheery smile, he nodded to the nurse who curiously smiled at him as he walked by. He expected her to stop him and demand he take his hat off, but she walked silently back. However, that relief he felt only lasted a few seconds. When she did a double check, his heart jumped, thinking he had been recognized. At least, she expected something. Shit, he cursed as she took a huge step toward him. Thinking on the fly (barely thinking truthfully), he turned, quickly rounded a corner and ducking into an empty room. He threw himself against the wall—ignoring the sheering pain in his back—and pretended to be one with the chalky wall until he was sure the nurse was gone. He took an excruciatingly deep gulp and leaned his head back against the wall.

Even with Jell-O as legs and no idea of what he was doing, Tony didn't have time to stand here, but he allowed himself a second. He also had to force himself to breathe, his lungs tight in his chest—but that was a problem for another time. He was expecting the Ancient One to magically appear and curse him all Harry Potter Style. She told-ordered him to leave Strange alone, but here Tony was deep in the halls of the hospital searching for the man like some idiot. If Strange was in real trouble-some end of the world stuff-, wouldn't the oh powerful Ancient One- still a stupid name—come down from the heavens and save him? As she wasn't here, Strange had to be in the clear, right? Right?

After he was confident the noisy nurse was gone, Tony ducked out of the room and swiftly headed toward the elevator. He should go back to his suit, but dammit, his feet wouldn't move in that direction. Instead, he stood in the elevator and pressed the button for Strange' floor. He stared at the bright digital numbers on the wall as they climbed. His mind flashed back to the first time he had met Strange, an oddly dressed peculiar bloke who stepped through a sparkling portal in the park. Even with the incoming doom, Tony could sense the ego on the man from a mile away, but he wasn't one to judge. Tony's ego was massive, and he could respect big egos. He could admit that it was attractive… Wait, what?

Shaking that thought from his head, he stepped off the elevator with his head down, trying not to draw attention—not that that was simple. The bruise, though fading, on his eye was still visible even behind his thick designer sunglasses. His heavy black boot limited his movement and made him walk with an odd limp. His slim black bomber jacket with a Stark industries logo on the sleeve also didn't help matter. He didn't realize he grabbed this jacket until right now, and his eye were twitching over it. Maybe, no one would notice—besides for that nurse.

Tony, his discomfort blossoming in his bones, kept close to the wall, trying to look as small as possible. He thought he was doing well, as several nurses passed him by without a second look. However, his luck ran out when a familiar female doctor in rich blue scrubs walked past him. Her loud footsteps came to a screeching stop and she turned. Her eyes went wide as she called out, "Tony Stark? Mr. Stark?"

Holding back his sigh, Tony faced the doctor. His eyes lit up with recognition as he laid eyes on her. "What did I say about calling me Mr. Stark?" he teased, lightly. His pain grew. "That's my father." On the contrary to what everyone believed, he did retained names—well, when he wanted to. He knew Barton's wife's name, even if he had only ever met her a few times. He just liked to mess with Clint. So, while it had been a while, he remembered her, a woman who dragged him to meet a herd of kid without batting an eye. Christine Palmer was just how he remembered—not that he had much to remember.

Christine, a doctor after all, gave Tony a critical harsh once over. Her eyes dropped from his face to leg, as her hand mindlessly reached forward. "Mr—Tony," she stated, correcting herself quickly. "Are you okay? Have you been looked at yet?" She asked.

"I'm fine, but yes, I have," he replied, biting back his pain.

"By a person or the internet?" She asked, dryly.

Tony narrowed his eyes. He met this woman only once; yet, she was already calling him out on his bullshit. Man, that hurt. "By my A.I.s," he replied, proudly.

"And where did they get their medical degree, hmm?" she asked with a tsk at the end.

"The World Wide Web," he replied, trying his best to bit back his anger. "And all the medical books they could get their digital hands on. Harvard, Johns Hopkin be damned." JARVIS and FRIDAY probably held the most medical data on the planet, their knowledge outranking the most trained Doctor. Granted, there were some Doctors they could not match. Helen Cho came to mind.

Christine's eyes were sharp, glaring at him much like Pepper. No doubt she was just as fierce and could be just as irate. "Hmm," she hummed as she reached forward again.

Tony eyed her hand, preparing to dodge it even with his aching side. He knew that look, but he wasn't fast enough. Maybe, it was his bad leg. Maybe, it was because she was a super Doctor. It could've been fact that he didn't expect her to reach for his side. His face. His wrist. Yes, not his side, and shit, the wave of agony that struck him made his world spin, and his knees shook violently beneath him. The pain, though weirdly absent the last few days, sprouted from the dark, heavy bruise from that fight with the Super Soldier. It was back with a vengeance and he was seeing black spots. "Shit."

If Christine was any other doctor, she might've smirked at him as he toppled over, but she jumped into action without judgement, grabbed him under the armpits and held him up with an impressive strength. "Let's get you to the exam room," she stated, urgently. It wasn't a request. With the day's events still lingering over him, Tony wanted to argue, but much like with Pepper, there was no fighting this woman.

*O*O*

It took Christine seconds to get Tony into an empty room and on the exam table with his shirt and jacket off. She was gloved before he could blink; heck, he didn't even know what she was up to until she touched the blacken skin on his side and pain shot through him. "Shit!" He yelped, harshly wincing. "Warn a guy next time."

Christine gave him a piercing stare, a soft warning in her eyes. "What happened to you?" she asked, ignoring the sharpness in his yelp. Her touch softened on his next shiver, as she pressed gently against the rib. The bruise, which wrapped up and around his side, was massive and angry. It was a rainbow of browns, purples and blacks, each with different levels of discomfort. The discoloration didn't reach the nasty mutilation left by the removal of reactor in his chest. Christine, the professional that she was, ignored the scar as if it didn't exist. Her eye didn't even flicker toward it.

Tony let out another painfully thunderous yelp, hovering an inch when she pressed down to feel his ribs. The pain distracted him from the fact that his scar, something he hated—something that he couldn't bear to be exposed, was on show. "Motherf-" He bit down hard on his lip (almost to the point of blood), stopping the word from escaping his chapped lips. "T-that hurts… worse t-than when I got it." He choked out, tears threatening to fall. It took everything in him from jumping from the exam table. Shit, was he hit that hard?

"An increase in soreness isn't uncommon. Injuries always look worse when they heal," she stated, as she took a step back. She paused for a second as she studied the dark purple that stretched across his body. "I was under the impression that your Iron Man suits would protect you from injuries like this." Her eyes drifted to the heavy bandage on his forearm. "And that as well."

He didn't know if it was his paranoia or what, but she was fishing, and he didn't like it. He narrowed his eyes, ready to bit, before he schooled his anger. Cool it. Sure, Hydra was planning to take over the world, but that did not make every person who asked about his suit a Hydra Agent. If that were the case, all children would be evil secret agents- oh, wasn't that a thought. A scary thought. Anyhow, it wasn't abnormal for people to ask about the suit. People loved Iron Man. People, on the daily basic, sprouted their love and called him their 'husband,' but his skin itched and not because of Christine and her doctor eyes on his naked chest.

Somehow someway Strange was on Hydra's hit list. Still, he was sure it wasn't too challenging to make the list. If you helped an old lady across the road at one point in your life, he was sure that would land you on the list. Any kind act was a crime in Hydra's eyes. However, his mind supplied. Sitwell knew Strange by name. By his fucken name. Strange—not yet at least—was not Bruce (A threat), not even close. Strange was a doctor, a doctor with a focus in experimental exploration of nerve regeneration. That had to mean something. Stop, Stark, he yelled at himself. There was no way Doctor Palmer, a woman who dragged him to speak to young, cheerful children, was Hydra and turned on Strange. Yet, Pierce is. There was no telling who was the bad guy anymore

"Are you there, S-Tony?" she asked, still tripping up over his name.

Tony shook his head as he met Doctor Palmer's eyes. "Yes," he replied, not particularly interested in speaking.

Silence fell as if Christine was waiting for him to say more. When he did not, she turned her attention back to the heavy bruise on his chest. "You're lucky you didn't break a rib and pierce a lung." Her tone was stern and serious. "And was this cleaned properly?" she asked pointed to his bandaged forearm. "If not, you could get a deadly infection."

Tony snorted. He was lucky he wasn't dead five times over. That unnamed super soldier threw him around like a ragdoll, and it was amazing his neck wasn't snapped. "That—" The door swung open with a loud screech, interrupting him.

"Christine, are you in here?" came an dry, irritated voice.

Said Doctor eyed the door as it opened. "Stephen?" she asked, zeroing on the fingers wrapped around the edge. The door fully opened to reveal Dr. Stephen Strange, dressed in blue Scrubs, who stood in the door with an guarded expression.

If the two exchanged words, Tony didn't catch them. He was too busy staring—No, not staring. He was gawking at Strange. Some may say he was ogling, but that implied there was something to ogle, which there was not. Okay, he had to give it to Strange he looked good in Scrubs, but everyone looked good in scrubs like Firemen in uniform. If they didn't, no one would have doctor or uniforms fetishes, and every mother wanted their child to grow up and marry a doctor. Looking at Dr. Strange, he could see why. However, if he was honest, Strange wasn't as attracted as he was in his Hogwarts robes with the judgmental, sassy cloak floating in the background. Tony would not admit that to anyone as Strange would use that card until he died, which would get annoying fast.

As Tony stared at the Doctor, he couldn't help but miss the freckles of gray that peppered his hair. It made the man looked distinguished and wise, and isn't that attractive? Plus, he got to love the goatee that the future Strange sported. It, they in general, was awesome and increased his hot factor. It wasn't to say that Doctor Strange wasn't already, but he looked baby face—not that there was anything wrong with that… Wait, why was he contemplating this? Why in the hell did it matter if he was baby faced or not? Was-

"He does that a lot," Christine replied, snapping Tony from his own dangerous thoughts.

Tony shook his head, though regretting the discomfort that grew at the base of his neck. "A lot on this mind," he replied, noticing two sets of staring at him. It was unnerving.

"A possible concussion," Christine countered, glancing back to Strange.

"Have you run any tests yet?" Strange asked.

"Not yet."

With a light nod, Strange's eyed the nasty bruises on Tony's chest before his eyes flickered to the famous scar on his sternum. With arms folded across this chest, he spoke, "I'm-"

"I'm aware who you are, Doctor Stephen Strange," Tony interrupted swiftly, suddenly feeling self-conscious in front of the attractive doctor. Again, what? What the hell?

Strange's eyebrow went up. "I was not aware that I was on Tony Stark's radar," he replied, his interest peaked. "Which of my accomplishments did you take notice to."

"A possible concussion, remember?" Christine shot Strange a sharp glare, communication secretly with him with her eyes. She was clearly not happy. Strange hummed and looked away. "Are you experiencing any headaches, ringing in the ears, nausea, vomiting, fatigue, drowsiness, or blurry vision?" She asked, turning back to Tony.

Tony reached for his jacket and shirt, his eye twitching from the pain. "Quick ask me a math question. Or, we can discuss the Chaos Theory."

Christine let out a soft-hearted sigh. "Men," she muttered lightly under her breath. "I would like to do a full body scan."

"Not needed." Tony exhaled, attempting to pull on his shirt. It was a struggle to even lift his arms.

"Do we need to remind you who the Doctors are, Mr. Stark?" Strange asked, rolling his eyes.

Tony stared at the man. What was his luck that Strange walked into the same room that Palmer pulled him in? Or maybe, he was simply unlucky because now Strange was hardcore staring at him and Tony had nothing to say. It was nerve racking to be on the end of Strange's intense stare. "I had one," he stated as he pulled out his phone from his jacket and held it in his right hand. "FRIDAY, why don't you show these two fancy pants doctors my scan."

"I will gladly show your scans to actual doctors, Boss." FRIDAY answered with a hint of sass. A light flickered on his watch and phone and the imagines on both devices combined to produce a medium-sized, detailed hologram of Tony's x-rays.

"Holy shit," Christine uttered as she bent down to get a better look. "That's amazing." She breathed, as her fingers traced the hologram like it was real object. "Holy Shit. The detail is unreal."

Strange slowly made his way to the hologram, his eyes zoomed in on it. "Interesting."

"FRIDAY, can these two fancy pants doctors get the lowdown on my injuries?" Tony asked, drawing an eye roll from Strange.

"I can, Boss, but they may need to hospitalize you for your stupidity." FRIDAY replied, which earned a snort from Strange.

"Hey!" Tony exclaimed, feeling insulted.

Christine ignored Tony and FRIDAY, as she reviewed the hologram scans. She moved through the hologram like a pro. Okay, could he hire her? Well, after he made sure she was not Hydra. "Imagine if we had this." Her eyes were saucers as she reviewed every bone. "X-rays on the go."

Strange narrowed his eyes, grabbing Tony's wrist—shocking the hell out of the genius. "Impressive."

Tony forced back the desire to yank his arm back. Did he not get the memo? Do not touch. "See. I have all the medical devices that I need right here. My A.I.s are the best Medical advisors that money—or tech—can buy."

Christine shared a look with Strange, who dropped his hand. "Really?" Strange asked. "That seems like a bold statement coming from a man with no medical training."

"Stephen," Christine chastised, knowing that tone.

"Well, technically, I am a Doctor," Tony shot out.

Strange rolled his eyes. "Hmm. Do you have a complete understanding of the brain, spinal cord, peripheral nerves, and cerebrovascular system? And all of the life functions regulated by them?" he asked.

A shitting contest wasn't what Tony wanted, especially right now. Ignoring the mind-numbing pain, he didn't have time or the will, especially when Hydra had Strange on their hit list. "Are we going to compare dick sizes now?" he asked.

Christine let out a groan, most likely have gone through this before.

A laugh escaped Tony's lips, seeing the scandalous betrayed look Strange shot Christine—though he was rewarded with a piercing throb in his side. "Oh, god," he grasped, hunching over in pain. He closed his eyes in an attempt ride through his pain, but that was futile. It hurt more now than it did when he got slammed into the wall by a super soldier. His whole side was raw, pain sparking through him with every movement. "Fuck," he cursed as two sets of hands grabbed him.

"Stay with, Stark." Christine ordered. "And be nice, Stephen." If Pepper had a long lost relative, it was Christine. Her shape tones were just as deadly and icy, even more so as Christine had held life in her very hands. Her warning was clear: she would kick Strange's ass.

"Aren't I always?" Stephen replied, deadpanned. The scowl Christine shot Stephen must've stopped whatever insult that was on the tip of his tongue and the surgeon was left speechless.

"Girlfriend, right?" Tony teased, hissing through the pain.

With hands gentler than Tony expected (not that should surprise him considering he was a surgeon), Stephen helped Tony up right. "We are not dating," Strange replied.

"But you have," Tony retorted through his teeth, as he attempted to breathe through the agony. He tried to shoot Strange a wink but that didn't work out. He just hunched over in pain.

Strange stood back a bit, his eyes studying Tony. "Are you going to tell us how you received these?" he asked.

"You do realize who I am?" Tony asked with a hint of a smile. "Hello, Iron Man." He drew out the word 'hello.'

"If you do not wish to address these injuries, why don't you tell me how you came across my name." Strange asked. "I find it most curious."

Tony peeped up at Strange, pausing to admire the smoothness of his face. He could see it. He could see women throwing themselves at Strange and him licking it up. Strange was far from naïve, but he lived in a fantasy world, too blind to see it. No judgement here as Tony had lived in that same bubble for a while, thinking that he was the center of the universe. It took an earth-shattering event to snap him out of it, and if Strange was anything like him, it would also take an earth-shattering event. He was sure he wouldn't be invited to this Earth-shatter event, as the Ancient One would kick him to the moon before she let him near it. "I find your study nerves regeneration fascinating."

A smug grin formed on Strange, a clear sign to how much the man enjoyed talking about himself. It was the same grin that Tony sported. "Oh, really, Mister Stark." He asked. "What specifically about it caught your eye?" He stood close to Tony, his hands at the ready. "Granted, the entire study is groundbreaking potential."

Cocky Son of a Bitch. Calling the kettle black, really. Yet, Tony wasn't sure if that was accurate right now. Tony was anything but cocky. He was an asshole, no doubt about that, but not a cocky asshole. "I see you have no issue patting yourself on the back." He taunted.

Strange's grin turned into smirk, as he winked. "I do not. Nothing wrong with it, and really, Stark. Iron Man. Should you be talking?"

Was why Strange looking at him like that? What the heck was he looking at? Tony followed his eye sight and down to his chest. Shit. He cursed, realizing that his shirt was still in his hand. Once more, his confidence slipped, his hand drifting to the heavy scar on this chest. Shirt in hand, he attempted to lift his hands once more above his head, pain shot through him as the tender muscles stretched. His hand shook, his face crunched in pain.

"Let me help," Strange offered, startled by something on Tony's face.

Tony wanted to refuse, but the tremor in his arms were too much to control and it took everything in him to lift his hands. There was no way he could handle pulling the shirt over his head. With a nod of his head, he allowed Strange to help him, one arm at a time. "Isn't this below your paygrade, Doctor Strange?" he teased, as he found himself staring into Strange's clothed chest.

"Don't worry, Mister. Stark—"

"Doctor Stark." Tony chirped.

Strange rolled his eyes. "Mister."

"Doctor." No Tony wasn't enjoying his, channeling the future Doctor Strange. It wasn't until this moment that he understood why Strange was so strict on the title. This was empowering.

"Mister Stark," Strange replied, stressing Mister. The corner of his lips twitched.

"Doctor."

"Doctor," Strange deadpanned slowly, as he took a step back. His eyes glued to now shirted genius. "Don't worry, Doctor Stark, you will receive a bill for my services, roughly 25 thousand."

"Is that supposed to be a statement on our medical system? If not, that's pocket change for me. I'm a billionaire with a B." Tony replied, popping out the B. "I can afford that."

Strange let out a chuckle at the same time Christine stepped back into the room. Her sharp eyes bounced between the two, a large syringe in her hand. "Good, both of your egos are intact."

"Where are you going with that?" Tony asked, though knowing who exactly was getting that monster of a needle. The question was where. With her eyes on his now shirted side, he got his answer.

"Pull up your shirt." Christine ordered. Gloves on, she approached him.

Tony let out a groan as he lift his shirt up, his purple and black skin now visible again. "Do I want to know where exactly you are putting that?" he asked, leaning over.

"Trypanophobia, Doctor Stark?" Strange asked. "Not what I expected from an Avenger."

Christine shot Strange another frown, and it abruptly became clear why those two didn't. "Stephen!"

The urge to punch Strange was back, and Tony suddenly had the desire to leave Strange to hydra. Let them have their wicked way with the Doctor…he would most likely be fine. Wait. Tony groaned. He was an idiot. The Ancient One aside, Hydra wasn't going to single handedly hunt own Strange and off him. Strange, blues eyes or not, was not worth an armed assault team storming through a crowded hospital. If Tony had allowed himself to think—to think clearly-, he would've seen that. This side quest was erroneous, and Tony saw it now. Nevertheless, he wasn't getting out of this without a huge needle. "Alright, let's get this over with."

Strange took a step back as Christine gently placed a hand on Tony side, gliding him over. "On the count of three." Christine said, gently sliding him over. "One…" she stated, injecting him on one.

"Hey," Tony snapped, boisterously. "What happened to two and three?"

"I find it works better when you least expect it," Christine replied, grinning.

That was it. He was getting a DNA test because this woman had to be related to Pepper. Tony narrowed his eyes. There was a snappy comeback on his tongue, but it went out the window a second later as intense relief flooded him. This should've worried the genius, his mind foggy, but there was something freeing about it. If he were thinking clearly, he would fight the urge to close his eyes, but man, it felt so good. It was peaceful, and he welcomed the darkness.

*O*O*

The sleep wasn't dreamless, marked by randomness; instead, peculiar images flashed before his depleted, tired eyes, ringing of drug induced dreams that he had once long forgotten, dreams that made him bellow to the flying monkeys. Heck, Strange, with a tiny papered Wong on his shoulder, flew in on a magic carpet like in Aladdin, but in this case, the carpet was Strange's red cloak. The wind blew through his hair, and the peppered gray sparkled throughout the man's hair. Stardork's head floated in the background, trying to smack a floating Thanos' head. Whatever drugs Christine had stabbed him with must've been the good stuff if the dreams were to judge. Plus, the pain was gone when he awoke, a blessing.

Steaming light sparkled through the cloudy window, hitting Tony right in the face like a high beam. His eyes squeezed tightly shut as if to will the offending light away. When that didn't work, he grabbed the itchy pillow and pulled it flushed against his face. "This pillow is shit," he muttered against the rough fabric.

"I'm sorry our pillows are not up to your standard, Doctor Stark."

A whiny moaned escaped his chapped lips, recognizing that egoist voice from anywhere. Like a waterfall, everything crashed down on him, bringing back the past and cruelly reminding him of the possible future. Peter's deadly plead pierced through him like a sharp knife. "Strange, it's strange you know." He uttered, his voice squeaking, as he lowered the pillow to reveal Strange in the chair next to him. Why was Strange still here?

"Is that the best you can do?" he hummed. A frustrated sigh passed his crapped lips.

Tony, the light blinding, squinted in the crappy hospital room, though it did look like the hospital tried. Dark wood paneling lined the room unlike the normal white chalky walls, and light blue silky curtains hanged by the window. The chair that Strange sat —not Stark Level quality. Hello Billionaire—was perhaps the nicest chair in the entire hospital, besides the ones in the board rooms and executives' offices. After his brain spun, his mind supplied him with an answer. He was in a VIP suite, one of the fancy rooms the hospitals saved for rich fools. "No, but I find it strange that you're sitting there." He replied, pushing himself up. "It's strange a doctor of your standing would sit at my bedside."

Strange smiled like a cheeky asshole that he was. "Are you going to keep finding amusing ways to say my name?"

"With a name like that," Tony teased. His eyes drifted to the window, trying to calculate how much time had passed. The sun was still high in the sky, but a darkness echoed in the distance. Shit, He silently cursed. If he missed the 'party', he was going to shot someone. Yet, if SHIELD carriers fell from the sky in a fiery explosion, he would've heard as soon as he woke. There would be a racket outside as the news carried. "You have no one to blame but yourself." His eyes dropped to the chair. "After seeing some of the chairs in this place, maybe, you should be thanking me. I'm sure that chair is better for the ass than any other in this place."

"My office chair is rather comfortable," Strange replied, dryly.

Tony shifted to the edge, carefully kicking his feet over under the watchful eyes of Doctor Strange. The sharpness of Strange's eyes were stressful and dug at Tony more than he cared to admit. Why the hell was Strange looking at him like that? And why was the Ancient One not dragging him away? He would kill for some Wizard interruption. "How long was I out? And warn a guy before knocking him out."

"I did not knock you out, Stark." Strange stated, putting quotes around the word knock. "That was Doctor Palmer." His eyes drifting down Tony's form. "And it has only been a few hours."

Tony reached for his phone on the table, his head a bit lightheaded from the drugs. He paused, his eyes spotting the recently changed bandage on his forearm. He stared for a second before he shook his head and continued to reach for the phone. "I'll send her a thank you note," he mumbled, as his fingers grazed the edge of the phone. His side stretched tight as he slowly worked the phone closer.

Strange's eyes flickered to the phone before going back to Tony. "Need help?"

Frustration shimmered through Tony. Why was Strange even here? He let out a pitifully groan, finally getting his fingers on the cold to the touch phone. He ignored Strange as he turned it on and scrolled through the news. "Shit." He cursed, loudly, as he came across a photo on Steve on his knees and a gun to his head. He didn't read the article, but he scammed it. A few heavy words popped out at him: arrested, Captain America, Black widow. Several pictures were included the article, seeming like there was a smashed car in every shot. "Shit."

"Is everything alright?"

"I gotta go." Tony declared quickly and loudly. He still didn't know what Christine had stabbed him with, but whatever it was, he was on his feet pain free. His vision had also cleared, but his mind, however, was in a dense fog and his equilibrium was off. It was a battle to stay up right.

Strange followed suit and got to his feet, straightening out his scrubs as he stood. "I would be remised to say that you should not be handling heavy machinery for another 10 hours."

"So, no Iron Man suit?" Tony chuckled.

"Yes."

"Sorry, Doc. No, can do. There is a world ending crisis I have to get to." Tony held the screen of his phone got to Strange as if the Doctor could read it. "Got to put on the suit."

"Stark." His voice was sterned much like a parent yelling at a child.

"Don't worry. I have a co-pilot."

Strange was quiet, his eyes dissecting him piece by piece. His jaw locked as if to silence himself.

"Just send me the bill… for this," he said, waving around at the room. Tony put on a smile and made his way the door. His eyes were on his feet to make sure he did not fall.

"Stark." Strange called, his voice unusually stiff—not that Tony knew what his normal voice was. "Injuries like yours aren't something to take lightly."

Tony didn't have the time to rest or to even slow down. His injuries be damned. "Don't sorry, Doc. If it makes you feel better, I have two annoying A.I.s for babysitters." Wobbly, he set his sights on the door and only stopping when he got the doorframe. He stood there for a second, his minds in knots. "Strange…" he drifted off, losing his voice. What the hell was he supposed to say? And why would this Doctor believe him? Yet, Strange sat at his bed side like an old friend. "Stay here tonight. Don't go anywhere with anyone you don't know, and don't take candy from strangers, Strange."

There was no need to turn around to know Strange was staring at him, his eyes sharp and calculating. "I was not aware I needed your permission, Stark." His tone was clear: he was irritated.

Peeping over his shoulders, Tony met Strange's stare. "I'm Iron Man. Just looking out for the Hot Doctor." He said, forcing a smile to his face. Wait, did he just call him hot out loud? Why did he keep pointing that out? Shit. Was there anything wrong with noting how attractive someone was? No. Well, maybe.

Strange's eyes softened a bit, but his mind was still evaluating and assessing, almost like there was a medical problem to solve. "Is there something I should know?"

That you're a wizard, Harry, and we have a future to protect from a purple grape? That a really old bald woman warned me away? That I'm a tired time traveler? Really tired. Tony was sure if he told Strange any of this, the Ancient One would skin him, and he would rather that not happen. He truly believed she would. "Nope." He said, popping out the 'p'.

"Fine," Strange replied, the corner of his crinkling.

Tony shared one final look with Strange before disappearing out the door.

*O*O*

Tony, unsteady on his feet as if on a boat in a roaring ocean, still felt the drugs coursing through his system, but it was a moot point the second he stepped into the suit. With JARVIS as his co-pilot, he was goldened. He hoped Natasha was able to keep the phone he gave her, as he could track it. Luckily (unlike everything else), JARVIS was able to obtain a location off the phone within a seconds and Iron Man was off. There was a bit of hesitation, a lingering fear at leaving Strange unprotected, but he dashed those fears. Strange was safe, and he would remain safe as long as Hydra was taken down.

The coordinates led him to a worn-down dam in a middle of the wooden forest, which was trying to reclaim the invading structure. At first, Tony had worried that Hydra had taken the phone and he was walking into trapped. However, he recalled—after tearing the info from Natasha in the previous timeline—this specific dam. Tony many have thrown a sizable bomb into the timeline, but it wasn't altered as much as he wanted. At this rate, he would need to set off an enormous, volatile blast, which he would not be opposed to. It just scared the crap out of him.

Still in the suit, Tony glided through the dusty, cobwebbed dam. Large vines covered the walls, masking the cracks and hiding doorways. He would've thought it was abandoned if it wasn't for the footsteps on the grimy floor leading deep into the derelict building. His mind was slowly returning to 100%, as the drugs gradually worked their way out of his system. The pain hadn't hit him yet, but there was a hint of it just under his sweaty, chaffy skin. JARVIS scanned the dam for signs of life besides the spiders and random rat. Before JARVIS could complete the scan, Tony was staring down Maria Hill, who looked just unimpressed at his presence as he was with hers.

"How did you find us?" Hill asked, a warning despite the soft tones. Her jaw was abnormally stiff.

"Where are Romanoff and the rest of the gang?" Tony asked, ignoring her question.

Hill, eyes creasing in the corner, stared sharply, studying Tony—more so, she was studying the Iron Man suit. His helmet still on, blocking his face. "This way," she stated, nodding to the side. Her eyes still on the helmet.

The Iron Man's helmet snapped back, revealing his face and battered eye. Silently, he followed her, his footsteps heavy in the suit. The silence wasn't deafening, but Tony's nerves twitched with every step. The timeline hadn't exploded yet, and there was no telling what the consequences would be. And here he was, wanting to blow it up more? Shit. Was Fury alive? Or did one of the five Winter soldiers kill him? That pegged the question: would Hydra risk sending all 5 out at once? They hadn't risk using them in the past, keeping them on ice. Would they now?

Clear plastic tarps hanging from the ceiling snapped Tony back to reality, and he quickly schooled his face. Natasha, the most exhausted Tony had ever seen her, sat at Fury's bedridden side. Hunched over—favoriting her right side-, her left arm hung in a black sling, while her right hand rested on Fury's arm. Her eyes were dazed, her eyelids heavy. It was if she wasn't there, which wasn't surprising considering she wasn't healed from the last fight. Steve, on the other hand, was fairing better, though still bloody and bruised. There was dried blood on his torn jacket and punctured shirt, which was ripped enough to see his tan abs. Sam Wilson stood back with arms folded across his once green shirt and a light scowl on his face. He didn't look as beat up as either Natasha or Steve (extremely impressive), but he had dried blood through his hair line—most likely from a blow to the head- and his jacket was torn in several places.

"How did you find us?" Hill asked again, standing at Fury's bedside. Her voice colder than before.

Not stepping out of suit (Not trusting his legs yet), Tony, not answering immediately, peeked around the grimy room. He noticed a few medical techs, but they were silent and distant as if trying to hide. "I give Romanoff a phone to keep in touch with." He stated finally, his eyes going to Fury. "How you are, Director?"

"A collapsed lung, lacerated spinal column, a cracked sternum…" he paused, exhaling deeply, "A shattered collarbone, perforated liver, and one hell of a headache." Fury, still the master spy, appeared ready to jump out of bed at any moment even if he fell on his face. "But alive, Stark. However, stop the small chat." He bit out. "You're keeping stuff from me like Hydra. I don't like it. So, spill."

"Like the fact that Hydra has super soldiers." Hill said, her voice ice cold. "Or how you executed an unauthorized attacked on a secret Hydra Base."

"How many did you see?" Tony asked. "And I need no approval." He added, meeting her hot glare. "I am not SHIELD."

"How many do they have?" Fury countered, pulling back Tony's attention.

Steve snapped the answer, "Five." Their resident soldier was pissed, but he was trying his damnest to keep it under control. His hands were balled under his arm pits, and he was painfully stiff.

Tony glazed hotly at Natasha, waiting for her to correct it and state six. Natasha may have promised to keep Barnes a secret, but he never truly expected her to do so. "How many did you faced?" he asked.

"Two," Natasha answered softly. "Neither was the same one Ayo and I faced prior, and one was a woman."

"What happened?" Tony asked. Sam answered this time, explaining how one fell from the sky onto his car while driving on the highway. They assumed she was dropped from a cloaked quinjet, while one waited to intercept them once the car was stopped. It played out much like how it did in the previous timeline, except with a few key changes. Natasha was still shot in the shoulder, but that was the least of it. The female soldier had taken a sickening interest in her and took pleasure in beating her down before Steve tackled her away. Steve had no trouble taking the female Super Soldier one on one, but Hydra did not play fair. In the matter of seconds, he was surrounded by both of them, and the two overpowered Steve, forcing him to his knees. It probably didn't help that Natasha was laid out in front of him.

That made Tony's stomach twist, but that couldn't stop him from thinking. While Hydra did not sick all five on them, they were interchanging them. Why? And how many were they willing to use at one given point? Would there be any point they use all five? That was still unclear, but Tony was willing to bet Hydra was using the 'frozen' ones as bargaining chips. However, that would mean the Winter Soldiers cared about each other? Or was it just power with them? It—

"Stark, you didn't think to tell us, 'Hey, Hydra still exists, and they have super soldiers?'" Fury snapped, disrupting Tony's thoughts. As his name suggested, Fury was furious, venom dipping from his lips; his injuries weren't going to curve his anger. His anger made sense, considering his life's goal, his life mission, was just destroyed. "A heads up of would've been nice, Stark."

Tony glanced around the room, feeling Rogers' eyes on the back of his head at that one. Unnerving to say the least. Also, a bit annoying. "I did attempt to meet you in your office if you recalled."

If looks could kill, Fury would've killed him. He, his eyes lava at this point, would've melt the skin right off Tony's face. "You think you could've tried harder, hmm?" he hissed. "Could've saved us a world of trouble."

"But where the fun be with that," Tony replied with a weak smile.

"Stark," Rogers chastised with a deep sigh.

Tony exhaled harsh. Steve wasn't wrong. Fury wasn't wrong. "I had to be careful. Hydra is everywhere. If Alexander Pierce was Hydra, anyone can be. I started to map it out, but their reach is everywhere."

Fury went quiet for a while. "That man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said, 'Peace wasn't an achievement, it was a responsibility.'" He huffed before winking in discomfort. "It's stuff like this that gives me trust issues."

Natasha, twitching as she pushed herself up, croaked, "We have to stop the launch." Her eyes flickered to Tony. "And find Ayo and Rhodes."

Tony would never forget about his two closest friends—

Wait when was Ayo one of his closest friend? Shit.

Nevertheless, for a moment, they slipped his mind for a second. He cursed, shame befalling him. He breathed through nose in an attempted to calm himself. Panic creeped forward, as his mind started to pile brick upon him. He was suddenly yanked in several direction, and it took everything he had to remain upright. He was not alone; he had to remember this. T'Challa, in his tight black panther suit, was on the hunt for Ayo and Rhodey, while taking out any Hydra agents along the way and providing support to any SHIELD agent in need. "I do have help."

"Who is that?" Fury demanded.

Natasha pushed herself up, her arm violently trembling under her weight. "Stark knows a lot of people. Don't be surprised if he has an army at his disposal. Isn't that right, Stark?"

King T'Chaka would object to that term as they were his army, but Tony appreciated Natasha not mentioning Wakanda. It was Wakanda's secret to tell. "What was your plan before I got here?" he asked.

"Stark." Fury sneered.

Sam let out a sigh as he waved in the air. "Can we do this at another time?"

"I agree. This is a conversion for another time." Steve stated. "And we will be discussing this later, Tony."

Fury glowered at Tony, his eyes drilling into the genius. "Agreed, especially with how you know I'm live."

"Don't worry your secret is safe with me." Tony smiled.

Hill snorted. "Among other secrets."

With an exhausted huff, Fury waved Hill forward, prompting her to hand him a large silver case. "Thanks," he uttered as she set it on the bed. Fury groaned lightly at the sudden weight on his lap.

Sam stared at the case. "What's that?"

"Once the Helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they'll triangulate with Insight satellites becoming fully weaponized." Hill asked, as she stepped back.

"We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own." Fury spoke.

"One or two won't cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational a whole lot of people are going to die."

"We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA. We need to get pass them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left—"

"We're not salvaging anything." Steve interrupted, firmly, as he turned his anger on Fury. His eyes nailing Fury with a very pointed Captain America stare. "We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down SHIELD."

"SHIELD had nothing to do with it." Fury argued, fiercely.

Tony chortled, unable to control himself. "I'm sorry but no. I think we can all agree that Operation Paperclip was a stupid idea." He countered, folding his arms across his chest. "And the cause of all of this. That was SHIELD."

Steve's eyes flickered to Tony, calculating, before turning back to Fury. "You gave me this mission; this is how it ends. SHIELD's been compromised, you've said so yourself. HYDRA was right under your nose and nobody noticed."

"I noticed," Tony interjected, a hand raised.

"And kept it to yourself." Steve replied, intensely, his eyes resting sharply on him.

Tony let out a sigh, knowing he deserved that. He spent all this time, thinking and planning. Making moves, but he kept people away. Maybe, he went in the wrong direction. Maybe, he needed to rethink everything that he had been doing. "I had my reasons." He stated, slowly, as he added some distance between them. He glanced down at his phone, waiting on some news from T'Chaka or his son. "But I noticed." He didn't mention the fact that he was a time traveler, who may have kicked off the fall of SHIELD early. But SSSHHH.

"Graduation, Stark, this is why we're meeting in this cave," Fury snapped. "I noticed."

Steve did not look impressed, furious more like it. "And how many paid the price before you did? How much have you compartmentalized? SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes."

Hill looked conflicted but spoke, "He's right."

Fury looked at Natasha then Sam who replied, "don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower."

Tony snorted. Sam and he weren't best friends or even friends, but man, he had to give it to him. Sam could be funny.

"Well, looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain." Fury stated drily, ignoring Tony.

"Then, let's get moving then." Steve nodded as Tony stopped laughing. Why was it Rogers' turn to be captain? Okay, Tony had mixed feeling about this, but he would go along with it for now, for this battle only.

*O*O*

Tony watched as Hill helped Fury into the quinjet. That man didn't look like he could stand up on his own for more than five minutes, but he wasn't going to stay back. Neither did Natasha who limped her way to Tony, who gave her the unimpressed eye roll. It was amazing that she could even stand, considering the number of blows she received in the last few days. Shit, Tony was surprised that he was standing, and he was only in one fight.

"Are you okay with this?" Natasha asked when she wobbled her way over. She nodded toward the quinjet. Steve gave directions, forming a plan like the Captain that he was. Sam stood in the distance, his eyes dancing over everything.

The quick answer was no, but he didn't have time for no. "This a single battle in a larger war." He replied, calmly.

"Still not going to say?" She asked, her eye twitching in pain. A light groan escaped her pink lips as she shifted, carefully keeping her weight off left side. There was no chance of her fighting and wining another fight.

Tony gave her a look, still confused by her. "Thanks for not mention the Sixth Winter Soldier."

Natasha' eyes went to Steve. "Steve is a brilliant strategist, but…" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "We need him to keep his head on straight, and he won't be able to do that when he learns what happened to his buddy. That being said, you do need to tell him. The fallout won't be pretty if you don't." Breathing was excruciating for her.

"Noted." He stated. Did Natasha give this conversion to Steve in the other timeline with regard to the deaths of his parent? Toxic resentment bobbled to resurface, and questions simmered forward. Would that repeat in this timeline? Tony was curious and pissed at the same time.

The red head's eyes narrowed at Tony when silence fell between them. "See a doctor, did you?"

She was fishing, and if Tony forced himself to breathe, he could understand. He did make a stink out of it when Sitwell mentioned Doctor Strange. "FRIDAY and JARVIS were quite pleased. Me getting lectured by doctors." He left out the part where Strange was there and Tony was eyeballing him. Regardless of the state of his relationship, Pepper and he were still a thing…. But for how long? "Apparently, they don't like it that I tried to replace them with A.I.s."

"No one wants to lose their jobs to robots." Natasha tried to smile, but her face just crunched up in pain, her eyes squeezing shut for a second.

Tony nodded, thinking. "Good point, especially since in the movies the robots take over the planet." No, his mind did not jump to Ultron.

Natasha smiled softly. "I would laugh, but it hurts too much."

No, the voice of reason shouted in Tony's head. He wasn't going down this road, he refused to be friends with her. There would always be that doubt in his head. Always be that fear. Would she lie to him about his dead parents again? Would she turn her back on him for Rogers? He didn't think he could allow friendship until he could answer that. "Don't you think you should sit out the next mission?"

Oh, god. Natasha was giving him the most lethal death stare know to man, her eyes so sharp they could cut glass. "We are already shorthanded, Stark." She hissed, standing perfectly still. "I'm not standing this one out."

Tony gave her another look over. Natasha was tough, there was no denying that, but there was only so much pain the human body could handle before it shut down. "Right now, you're-" His phone chirped, drawing his attention. He clicked it up, a message popping up from T'Challa. An odd feeling to have a prince backing him up or even texting him, especially a Prince from a 'third' world country. "We have a backup."

"Prince T'Challa?"

He glanced at her before nodding. "Let's go punch some Nazis."

The End for now.

Let me know what you think.

And how did you feel about Strange? What do you think was going through his head?

Also, you think Natasha is going to worm her way in and pass Tony's defenses?