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[ingeniar]

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USERNAME: STARK

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[rehandle]

No. I'd tell you, if there was anything
If I thought it was anything like that, I'd talk to you.

[ingeniar]

[ Tony sits with that for a minute or so, framing an answer in his mind. Taking it down, reframing it, putting it back up. ]

I should probably tell you that I had sex with Wanda.

[rehandle]

[ He's not sure what he's expecting in answer. It isn't that. A brief delay, wondering if the context is anything, wondering how long it'll take him to figure out how he feels about this, but the only way to understand is - ]

When?

[ingeniar]

When I was, you know. Crazy. I don't really remember anything. She had to tell me about it.

[rehandle]

[ Relief. Discomfort. Another little drop in his gut.

Nevermind the who of it, for a moment. In the too much of everything that came after, he'd forgotten there was ever a what. ]

Are you okay?

[ingeniar]

[ Pick a different question, Strange. ]

Sure.

[rehandle]

[ Tony. ]

I don't care that you had sex with Wanda while you were out of your mind, Tony. I care if you're alright.

[ingeniar]

[ Typing some stuff, deleting it. ]

And if I'm not?

[rehandle]

Then I'm coming to find you.

[ingeniar]

Don't. You can't just magic this away, Stephen. I need to feel this.

[rehandle]

[ It stings. Something about the accusation, the imagined intention. Stephen bites down on the urge to argue, just asks, ]

Do you have to feel it on your own?

[ingeniar]

I have to learn how to carry it. That's how it works.

[ Thanks to the Howard Stark school of parenting for that one. ]

[rehandle]

Why

[ingeniar]

Because it does.

[ Because this is a load bearing trauma. Because if one thing goes, the whole thing goes. Because he's been in cascade failure since Titan. Because -- ]

It just does.

[rehandle]

No. Not anymore.

[ Not anymore. He'll give Tony the time it takes him to walk to where he is, but he's not sitting still anymore. ]

[ingeniar]

You can't fix it.

[rehandle]

I don't want to fix it. I want to be there.

[ingeniar]

[ Pepper used to do this. When the nightmares got really bad, so bad he'd stop sleeping and go to work instead, days and nights in a row trying to make something -- anything -- that could make it possible for him to go back and make it right, she'd just stop arguing with him. She would plant her feet and refuse to move. Sometimes she'd make him go to bed, but sometimes she'd just sit down in the workshop with him, reading, nursing Morgan, or just sitting there watching him. Not doing anything. Just being there. Waiting for the cracks to show. And then she'd stay there when he fell apart, until he could pick himself back up again.

But, she's not here, which is part of the problem -- and doing that in front of Stephen, he can't possibly ask him to -- ]

Why?

[rehandle]

Because you're mine.

Whatever else that looks like for us now, it means I hold you while you carry what you can't bear.

[ingeniar]

[ You're mine registers in stages, shuttering down through Tony's awareness. He touches his thumb to the warm circle of the ring around his finger an closes his eyes for a moment before he dictates the response. ]

All right.

But you should know it doesn't look any different. I'm not crying on the floor or anything. I'm dealing with it. You're already

You're already helping.

[rehandle]

[ There's a beat of dread terror as he registers what he just sent: truth made plain even after the commune in actions and objects and every other word but these. Is it too much? Has he spoken too soon, in too stressful a moment?

Tony replies, and he can breathe again. His blood fizzes with unspent adrenaline, and it makes it easy to not be too gentle in his reply. ]

Respectfully, Tony, you don't need to tell me what it looks like.

[ They're not so different. Stephen hasn't worked through what he's working through, but he's sat with plenty else. ]

I've got a project I can work on. Do you want to tell me where you are and I'll keep pretending I can't be there in a second, or am I good show up?

[ingeniar]

I'm in the garage. [ He's managed to work a corner for himself and his own personal projects -- the drones, a few other things. Fiddling while Rome burns. ]

You can show up.

[rehandle]

See you soon.

[ And he will, Stephen abandoning his walk to slip on the sling ring and tear open spacetime, the resulting plume of sparks strangely apt amongst the cars and Tony's little set up. ]

I see. Comfort in the arms of the Rolls.

[ A light opener as the portal spins shut at his back. ]

[ingeniar]

[ It's a cold and rainy day, so the garage door is closed, shutting in Tony and the cars and The Kinks rocking and rolling through 'Destroyer'. As the portal swirls into life, Tony prudently dials down the volume from ear-splitting to almost normal, though he doesn't glance up from where he's perched on a stool by a workbench and a scattering of circuitry, various drone parts and an old clunky laptop. As far as the game of rhetorical tennis goes: ]

If any of those magic fireworks dinged the paint, I'm telling the old man he can take it out of your allowance.

[ He puts the finishing touches on something and straightens up, apparently satisfied, before finally looking over at Stephen. ]

Gonna tell me what you're working on?

[rehandle]

[ Stephen hasn't spent much time in the garage - more often in his memories of being a younger, happier version of a fabricated, unhappier self than in his own actual life. It means that after noting that he's busy, Tony's time spent tinkering is Stephen's spent drawing his fingers idly along the hood of the nearest car as he looks over its roof at Jonty's small legion of them, easy distraction. ]

Mm? Oh. Precision. [ Which tells Tony approximately nothing. A small almost-shake of his head and Stephen turns to address him properly. ] I was talking duplicates with Shadowheart. The original spell's kind of a bulk buy, needs refining.

[ Still not a huge amount of information, but enough for Stephen, who already knows exactly what he's talking about. So, with a nod to indicate Tony's workstation: ] You?