IronStrange Haven, formerly IronStrangeHQ

A compact device about the size of a shoe box – metal humming, covered in etched runes the sorcerer didn’t recognize, glowing faintly with a light that flickered between arcane and technological. It sat on a pedestal surrounded by shrapnel and scorch marks – another not-so-good sign.

Stephen approached it carefully. “I’ve never seen something like this. It might not even be from this world.”

Tony snorted, his faceplate open. “Yeah? Runes weren’t exactly in HYDRA’s STEM program.”

He peered over Stephen’s shoulder, deliberately close enough that his breath brushed the wizard’s ear. Stephen didn’t move away. Tony pretended not to notice – without success.

“What do you think it does?” the engineer asked.

Stephen frowned, tracing a finger near – but not touching – the runes. “It looks like a dimensional key. But it’s incomplete. Or broken. Possibly both.”

Tony reached forward before he could stop himself. “Well, good thing we brought a mechanic—”

“Tony, don’t—!”

His fingertips brushed the metal – and the device activated with a violent burst of energy, rippling through the room like a shockwave. Runes flared, spinning across the surface of the device, then into the air around Tony and Stephen. Reality trembled, and the air cracked like glass.

Natasha shouted something.  Steve ran forward. Stephen reached out, trying to conjure a counterspell.

It was too late. Light swallowed Tony and Stephen whole.

_______________

The fall felt like getting yanked through a kaleidoscope made of knives. One moment the HYDRA base was exploding with runes, the next Tony hit the ground with a graceless grunt.

The floor beneath him was solid marble. Or… at least it looked like marble. It was hard to tell what it was actually made of because it was pulsing. Why was the floor pulsing?

“Gandalf?” Tony pushed himself up on one elbow, blinking away a rush of stars.

“I’m here.” Stephen coughed hoarsely several feet away, using his cloak to lever himself upright. “We’re—” He took in the world around them and stopped mid-sentence. “Oh.”

Tony stood. The screen of his HUD flickered and failed instantly, overwhelmed by whatever energy was saturating the air. Friday was offline. “Okay, you gonna finish that sentence? Where the hell are we?”

Stephen turned in a slow circle. “It looks like the Mirror Dimension,” he said automatically. “But…”

Even as the words left his mouth, his voice thinned with uncertainty. Because the Mirror Dimension shouldn’t look like this.

Buildings folded into themselves like reflections on rippling water. Streets looped overhead in arches that vanished into fog. Floating glass shards drifted lazily through the air like jellyfish – except they showed reflections that didn’t match reality.

Tony watched two suns slowly rising from two different points in the horizon, slowly moving towards each other. “…Okay,” Tony said carefully, “Follow up question: what’s a ‘Mirror Dimension?’”

Stephen dragged a hand through his hair, jaw tight. “The Mirror Dimension is a parallel plane sorcerers use for training, combat, and spatial manipulation. It mirrors the real world – hence the name.”

Tony pointed at a building folding into itself like origami. “Yeah, this is doing a little more than mirroring.”

Stephen’s expression darkened. “Yes. I noticed.”

The air vibrated with a low hum. Stephen lifted his hands slightly, sensing the currents. Sparks of gold flickered across his fingertips.

“For a moment,” he murmured, “I thought we’d been pulled in through a fractured entry point. But these… distortions…” His gaze rose to a shard floating overhead – showing a sky on fire instead of clouds. “This is wrong.”

Tony stepped closer. “Uh-huh. And what does ‘wrong’ mean in wizard-speak?”

“It means someone – or something – constructed a pocket reality using the Mirror Dimension as a template.” Stephen swallowed. “And did a very poor job of it.”

A distant crack echoed overhead, like glass breaking inside a cathedral. Tony flinched while Stephen stiffened. Reflections began to tremble, buildings rippled like breath stirring underneath skin and the sky fractured into thin, luminous seams.

“Merlin,” Tony said lowly, “tell me this place is stable.”

“…It’s not unstable,” Stephen tried.

“That does not comfort me.”

Another tremor shook the ground.

Stephen turned toward him, eyes sharp with urgency, reflecting the gravity of their situation. “We need to find the anchor point. This pocket dimension must have a core – a central place that, hopefully, will help us return to our world.”

Tony nodded, adrenaline kicking in. “Great. We find it and go home.”

Stephen hesitated. “It may not be that simple.”

Tony stepped closer until their shoulders brushed, creating a line of warmth. “Nothing ever is. But we’re gonna figure it out.”

For a heartbeat, Stephen just looked at him – really looked – like he was anchoring himself with Tony’s presence. Yet, the serenity of that brief connection was shattered by a guttural, distant roar that split the air, reverberating ominously through the very ground beneath their feet.

Tony jolted, instinctively reaching for Stephen. “Okay. I’m guessing that wasn’t you.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Tony turned towards one of the floating glass shards that caught both him and Stephen in its polished surface – admittedly, he was mostly staring at their reflection to scowl at their height difference.

Something felt off. It took him a second to realize his own reflection lagged by about three seconds, like a bad video feed.

He pointed at it, aiming for casual. “Hey Houdini, check this out. Our reflections are buffering.”

Stephen turned his head toward the shard. His reflection did the same – except the angle was different, slightly off. Tony frowned, leaning closer.

“Wait,” Tony murmured. “That’s weird. Mine’s delayed, but yours—”

But Stephen’s reflection wasn’t delayed at all. It moved independently. It tilted its head, the pupils of his eyes narrowing into slits – almost like a reptile. Smoke leaked from the reflection’s nose.

Stephen went very still, while Tony muttered, “Please tell me this is just bad Wi-Fi.”

The sorcerer watched the shard with narrowed and very much un-slitted eyes. “It’s a glitch,” he said quickly. “Dimensional interference.”

Tony squinted at the reflection. “Uh-huh. Except your glitch is looking at me like it wants to eat me.”

Stephen’s eyes darted toward Tony – but in the shard, his reflection turned slower. Then, suddenly, it snapped forward with a smile full of fangs.

Tony stumbled back. “Okay! Not buffering! Very much not buffering!”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, the sorcerer conjured a crackling whip of bright orange energy – pure Eldritch light – and slashed the shard in two.

CRACK

The mirror erupted in a burst of glittering fragments that scattered across the warped floor like dying fireflies.

“What the hell?” Tony yelped.

“It’s nothing,” Stephen explained. He swept his hands, dissolving the glowing remnants before the engineer could get a good look. The pieces vanished as though swallowed by the air.

Tony stared at him, searching for the truth hidden behind his facade. “Nothing? Really? Because it looked like your evil twin was about to crawl out of a floating razor blade and murder me.”

Stephen lifted his chin as the cloak settled more calmly on his shoulders. “It was a distortion. Nothing more. This dimension is unstable.”

Tony crossed his arms. “Then why did you just obliterate it?”

The pause was just a fraction of a second – but enough for Tony to catch it. “Because unstable constructs can be dangerous,” Stephen said, tone clipped and clinical. “I eliminated the threat.”

Tony didn’t buy it, not even a little. “Stephen,” he said slowly, “I know a cover-up voice when I hear one.”

The sorcerer closed the distance between them in two strides. “Tony,” he replied, low and controlled, “listen to me. That shard was a corrupted projection. An anomaly. It’s already gone. And it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Tony opened his mouth to argue – but another tremor pulsed through the pocket dimension, reflections shimmering like disturbed water.

“We have far more immediate concerns,” Stephen reminded him.

The ground shifted beneath them, making Tony stumble forward. Stephen caught him instinctively. And in that moment – brief, tense, close – Tony felt Stephen trembling. Just enough to know that whatever had been in that shard… Stephen had recognized it. And he was terrified by what he had seen.

Even though the ground settled after the tremor, the world around them still looked like a broken funhouse made by someone who skimmed a tutorial on reality and then gave up halfway through.

Stephen let go of the engineer and turned away, lifting one glowing hand and sweeping it in a careful arc. “Let's find the anchor point. It’s the magic equivalent of the motherboard.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Wow. Was that… was that sass? Doc, are you feeling okay?”

Stephen shot him a look that’s half-smile, half-exasperation. “Tony.”

“Just checking,” Tony smirked. “Dimension’s glitchy, you’re glitchy – gotta keep track.”

The cloak flapped at him as though offended on Stephen’s behalf.

____________

They walked, each step echoing in the surreal landscape as it shifted around them constantly. Streets twisted, bending into staircases that dissolved into floating tiles, while buildings spiraled upwards like twisted strands of DNA, defying the very laws of physics. Every so often, Stephen would pause, his brow furrowing in concentration as he examined the air, reading the invisible currents of energy.

Tony watched him, a mix of admiration and concern knotting in his stomach. He knew Stephen was hiding something. He had been for a while, even before they had stepped into this bizarre world. This wasn’t just about the strange reflections and anomalies of the pocket dimension. It felt deeper, like a burden Stephen carried.

He kicked a pebble that immediately turned into a reflection of his shoe and drifted away. “So. Anchor point. Any idea where the heart of the dimension likes to hang out? Rooftop? Center of the maze? Starbucks?”

Stephen hummed thoughtfully, deliberately ignoring the joke. “It will be somewhere the dimensional fabric is strongest. Usually a center, but not always.” His gaze remained focused, scanning the shifting landscape with an intensity that Tony found both inspiring and unsettling.

“You know, a little direction would help,” Tony said lightly, trying to keep the mood buoyant. “So I can help look out for it.”

“You’re already helping.” Stephen glanced at him. “You’re distracting me from panicking.”

Tony’s breath caught for a moment – because the comment was said so casually, so honestly, it landed like a spark in his chest. This was what messed with him, Tony realized. These moments of raw honesty.

Stephen had always been honest to a fault, sometimes blurring the lines between jest and truth to the point where it left Tony questioning everything. It was the easy closeness they shared, the playful bickering, and the undeniable flirtation – the flirting that wasn’t one-sided, even when Stephen tried to mask it with nonchalance.

Stephen slowed down as they approached a distorted intersection where three streets overlapped like transparent layers. He examined the ground, murmuring a soft incantation. Runes flared briefly, then vanished.

“Not here,” he stated.

Tony watched the sorcerer cautiously. “Can you tell me why every time you move your hands, the city starts convulsing like it’s got a caffeine shot?”

“This pocket dimension was constructed as a copy.” Stephen glanced at him, expression tight. “But a copy can’t perfectly mimic the original rules of reality. It’s… brittle.”

“Brittle,” Tony repeated. “Like a cheap phone screen?”

Stephen didn’t smile. “Worse. It doesn’t respond consistently to magic. My spells, even minor manipulations – it all cause feedback. The energy here resonates with what I do. But imperfectly. Sometimes dangerously. That’s why the reflections, the distortions… everything reacts unpredictably.”

“So basically, the moment you try to make it stable, it decides to have a tantrum?” Tony frowned.

Stephen’s lips twitched, almost like a smirk. “In a manner of speaking. Which is why we need to find the anchor point before my magic tears this dimension apart entirely.”

______________

They walked again. And Tony’s thoughts drifted – unwelcome, but relentless. He and Stephen had grown close. In a way that sneaked up on Tony, quiet and steady. Long nights in the workshop. Debates that ended with laughter. Magic practices that turned into playful sparring. The way they orbited each other in social settings without thinking, like a habitual gravitational pull.

And whenever Tony tried to push it further— brought up That Topic— made The Move—

Stephen shut the door so fast Tony could practically hear the deadbolt slam. A subject change. A too-formal tone. A physical step back. It wasn’t a rejection. Not directly.

It felt like fear. Fear of something Tony didn’t understand yet. But that reflection – those slit eyes – Stephen’s panic when Tony saw it… yeah, Tony’s pretty sure he was circling the truth.

Suddenly, Stephen stopped. “Here.”

Tony blinked. “Here?”

Crouching, Stephen pressed his palm to the warped pavement. A soft ring of gold light radiated out from his touch, briefly revealing a delicate pattern of glowing sigils beneath the surface.

“The dimensional fabric is getting stronger,” he explained. “The anchor point is close.”

Tony knelt beside him. “Like, close enough to break open an exit for us?”

“Not yet.” The sorcerer’s voice was tense. “If we don’t handle this carefully, the pocket dimension could collapse.”

“Good thing we’re both great under pressure.” Tony leaned slightly closer. “Right, Merlin?”

For a heartbeat, Stephen blinked, and his pupils were suddenly slits – the same as the reflection. Then he looked away. “Let’s keep moving,” he said tightly.

Tony watched him rise, cloak trailing like smoke, and followed. He didn’t say it out loud, but the thought coiled tight in his gut: whatever Stephen was hiding… this place was pulling it out. And sooner or later, it was going to break free.

___________

They followed the thread of the dimensional fabric deeper into the warped cityscape. The ‘road’ beneath them felt less like pavement and more like walking on a hologram – solid enough to hold you, but insubstantial when you look too closely. 

The whole place was giving Tony the creeps. Even though it looked like a city – more or less; there were tall buildings and skyscrapers piercing the sky, along with winding streets lined by what should have been bustling sidewalks – only, there were no people. The absence of life lent an eerie quality to this vast expanse of concrete and glass. As he wandered, the place felt paradoxically both empty and full.

Everything around them was in motion. Tony couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. More than once, he thought he glimpsed a figure flitting just out of sight, lurking in his peripheral vision. Each time he turned his head, he found nothing – just another streetlamp unraveling like a strand of string cheese.

Tony stayed a step behind Stephen, partly because the sorcerer was scanning for magical anomalies and partly because Tony couldn’t stop staring at him.

“Merlin,” he started carefully, “your posture’s doing that thing where you’re pretending everything’s fine while clearly everything is not fine.”

Stephen exhaled. “I’m maintaining the spellwork. The fabric here is unstable. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh. And the other thing?”

“What other thing?”

Tony gestured vaguely at him. “The… twitching. The weird energy pulses. The fact your reflection tried to bite me.”

Stephen stopped walking.

That alone was alarming. Stephen never stopped walking during a crisis. But now, he stood very still, shoulders tense, head bowed. His hair curtained part of his face, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. Only now Tony was realizing that the sorcerer refused to look at him; that he hadn’t for the past mile.

He sighed, and it sounded like he was bracing himself for something. Then he said, “I need you to stay calm.”

“Usually when people say that, it means I absolutely should not stay calm.”

There was a pause, before the sorcerer shook his head, still not showing his face. “Actually, it’s nothing. Let's move on.”

But Tony had enough of ‘it’s nothing’ for today. “No, we don’t.” He grabbed the wizard’s shoulder and turned him around, forcefully.

Stephen looked surprised as his eyes locked with the engineer’s – and Tony forgot how to breathe. Because Stephen’s eyes – normally controlled, intense – were glowing. Glowing bright molten gold. Not a flicker. Not a flash. Fully illuminated, like twin suns burning from the inside out.

“Stephen…” he whispered.

The sorcerer flinched as if struck. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the glow dimmed, but shimmering gold still threaded through the lashes.

“It’s fine,” Stephen said tightly. “It’s temporary. A reaction to the dimensional instability.”

“Bullshit.” Tony stepped closer. “That is not normal wizard stuff, Merlin.”

Before Stephen could respond, the ground beneath them shuddered. Buildings twisted violently, warping in response to Stephen’s emotional spike.

“Stop talking,” Stephen hissed. “You’re making it worse.” He lifted his hands to cast a stabilizing spell – but the magic that bled from his palms wasn’t the usual golden light. This light was deeper. Richer. Almost organic.

Suddenly, Stephen staggered backward, nearly losing control of the spell entirely. He turned away sharply, shoulders shaking harder now. His silhouette flickered, and scales flashed across the side of his neck – iridescent, blue scales catching the warped light for half a second before disappearing.

Tony froze. “Fuck.”

Stephen whirled around, panic blazing. “Tony.”

“You’re–” Tony gestured helplessly. “You – your neck just – Merlin, you’re scaling.”

“STOP.” Stephen’s voice cracked like a whip, not loud but devastatingly raw.

The pocket dimension reacted instantly, mirrors shattering, structures bending inward as if gravity just changed directions. Tony had to brace himself as the ground tilted.

Stephen dropped to his knees, hands pressed to the fractured floor, magic leaking out of him like uncontrolled steam. His voice was low and breaking. “Don’t… look at me.”

Tony’s heart was hammering in his chest. Yet, the sight of the sorcerer spiralling down into what looked like a panic attack, made him react. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft, like he was talking to a scared child. “I know it’s a lot, but it’s alright.” At least he hoped it was. “But I am absolutely going to look at you.”

Stephen shook his head. “I can’t… hold it. This place—”

And then his glamour failed again. Worse this time. Scales bloomed across his cheek, shimmering like blueish metal. His pupils thinned into vertical slits and his jaw sharpened, fangs edging through where human teeth should be. He looked very much like the reflection Tony had seen earlier.

Tony stepped toward him, instinct overriding caution. “Hey. Hey. Focus on me. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

“No,” Stephen panted. “You don’t understand – if I lose control – this dimension will tear itself apart.”

“Then we make sure you don’t.” Tony reached for him.

The sorcerer jerked back violently. “Don’t touch me!”

The shout hit Tony like a physical blow. For a moment, neither of them moved – Stephen trembling, Tony frozen, the pocket dimension groaning around them like a wounded beast.

Tony swallowed. “Stephen… talk to me. What is happening to you?”

Stephen lifted his head slowly. And the answer glowed in those molten gold eyes.

A truth he’s been hiding. A truth he’s terrified to reveal. A truth reflected in the shards of the dimension itself.

Finally, the sorcerer whispered, voice barely human. “I never wanted you to see this.”

“Stephen… you’re scaring me.”

Stephen blinked, his thin vertical pupils focused on the engineer. “I… I can’t control it, Tony. Not here. Not like this.”

The engineer swallowed. “Don’t shut me out now. I can’t just pretend I don’t know something’s wrong.” The armor retracted from his hands and he placed a palm gently on Stephen’s arm. The scales pricked slightly under his touch.

The sorcerer swallowed hard. “I… I’m not entirely human.” His own hands trembled. “I was born a dragon.”

Tony blinked, trying to process the truth. “You… You’re a dragon? Like, an actual dragon?”

“Yes. I’ve kept it hidden. I didn’t want anyone to see. I… I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Tony exhaled. Okay, so this was… something. He could deal with this. Even though it sounded like a fairy tail gone wrong – but then again, their surroundings were currently acting like a bad version of a dream world from Inception. He decided to move forward now and ask questions later.

He took a deep breath. Since the cat was out of the bag, it was easier to approach the whole situation more pragmatically. “Stephen, stop apologizing. You didn’t know this would happen. And being scared doesn’t help. Right now we need a plan.”

“This place is making me lose control over my magic,” Stephen explained, voice low. “If I do, I could hurt you. And I can’t transform here. A dragon’s full form will shatter this splinter of reality.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Then we prevent that. Together. We find the anchor point, stabilize the dimension, and we get out. You’re not handling this alone.”

He examined the sorcerer carefully, noting the twitching scales and the glowing eyes. He tried to ground Stephen by taking one of his shaking hands into his own, his thumb caressing his palm.

“We move forward, survive, solve the problem,” he continued when the sorcerer remained silent. “You focus on keeping it from going full shift, I focus on keeping us alive. There, we have a plan. Simple.”

The sorcerer exhaled shakily, glancing at their joined hands.

Finally, he nodded, pulling himself together. He wasn’t convinced of the plan - it sounded too simple - yet he did not have a better idea to offer, so he clung onto Tony’s words.

“Together,” Tony added firmly. “No excuses. No hiding.”

“Together,” Stephen confirmed.

Tony glanced at the shifting streets and floating shards, calculating their next move. “Good. Then let’s find that anchor point before this place tears itself apart.”

They started moving again, Stephen trembling less now, while Tony scanned every unstable corner. This dimension was chaotic  –  he saw a subway train making its way along the side of a building, defying the laws of physics as it climbed upwards toward the heavens. It vanished into the sky unexpectedly, only to reappear on top of another skyscraper, moving back downwards   –   but at least now they had a plan, and they faced it as a team.

______________

Once the anchor point was in sight, it was kind of obvious. The place stood out like a sore thumb.

A park sat in the center of the chaotic, ever-shifting pocket dimension like a mistake. Everything around it was in constant motion – buildings bending into impossible angles, cracked reflections floating like broken satellites, streets rolling like waves. But the park… the park was still. Way too still.

It looked as though someone took a perfect, peaceful city garden from the real world and simply copy-and-pasted it into the dimension without checking the formatting. The borders didn’t quite match: a sidewalk curved toward it, then glitched into a straight line. A bush’s shadow crossed the grass but didn’t move. The air around it held a faint hum, like static before a storm.

The greens were too vivid – emerald grass, jade leaves, moss glinting like wet velvet. Every shade of green you can name, layered too neatly, too brightly, as if the dimension had rendered them with a broken color palette.

And at the center, invisible but unmistakable, lay the anchor point: a tall tree.

The air seemed thicker around it. Roots grew in perfect lines that no natural pattern could produce. This was the place where the pocket dimension was tied together like a knot in a rope.

From a distance, the park seemed calm. Almost peaceful. An island of order in midst the chaos.

But the moment Tony stepped onto the grass, the calm cracked. Leaves rippled as if the place was exhaling. Shadows shifted in directions that didn’t exist. The spiraling grass patterns began to writhe, and the air vibrated with the same unstable resonance that haunted the rest of the dimension.

What looked serene became responsive, alive, reactive. As if it knew they were not supposed to be there. And beneath Tony’s feet, the park no longer felt like a refuge. It felt like the heart of something holding the dimension together by sheer will – and it was beginning to fail.

A tremor passed through the ground, stronger this time. A bunch of fallen leaves shot up, smashing against the side of a twisted building above them, splintering into fragments that rained down on them. Stephen reacted instinctively and threw up a shield. The action caused scales to ripple across his neck.

Tony immediately pulled his foot back, scanning the environment. “Okay, avoid nature. Nature goes boom.”

Stephen’s breathing slowed slightly, golden eyes flickering less intensely. The scales retreated in patches, though the faint shimmer of his true form remained visible. He looked around, assessing the situation. “If I stabilize the anchor, I can cut a doorway out.”

Tony paused, glancing at him. “You sure you’re up for this? “

Stephen tilted his head. “The tree connects to the dimension’s structure. If I channel my magic through it, I can reinforce the structure and open a gateway.”

“Or,” Tony pointed out, “given how this place reacts to your magic, it could blow us into about six different fractal pieces.”

The sorcerer clenched his jaw, but in that moment the dimension groaned – an audible, wrenching sound as a building folded sideways like a page in a book – and that pushed the conversation aside. Time was running out on them. With the help of the cloak, Stephen hovered in the air and approached the tree without touching the grass. He prepared a spell and pressed his hands to the trunk of the tree.

The reaction was immediate.

A shockwave rippled out, rattling the branches. Runes flared, and the bark split open, glowing from within like magma veins. Tony stumbled back as arcs of warped geometry twisted up around them, spiraling like mirrored vines.

“Dumbledore! The dimension is freaking out–”

The tree convulsed and the magic surged backward. Stephen didn’t have time to pull away. The backlash slammed into him like a collapsing star. He flew backward, crashing into the edge of the distorted grass, magic spasming out of him in uncontrolled flares. He felt the heat on his skin, with the power he struggled to contain. The ground around him rippled as if the dimension itself was trying to recoil from his presence.

Tony sprinted toward him. “Stephen!”

The park warped, every edge bending inward, while parts flickered violently.

Stephen coughed, smoke curling from his lips – a bitter taste of ash clinging to his senses. When he looked up at Tony, his pupils were now fully draconic – golden, luminous, and terrifying.

Another pulse of energy surged through the plaza, and the ground quaked violently. Shards spun faster, slicing through the air like knives. Stephen flinched, dark blue scales flaring across his face, appearing and reappearing again.

“Stephen!” Tony called again, urgency wrapping around his words “Look at me! Focus on me!”

The sorcerer’s head snapped toward him without seeing him; eyes wild, energy thrumming along his jawline and scales. He could feel the pull, the urge to shift completely, to give in to the dragon within. He was losing the fight of control. A growl escaped his throat.

With determination, Tony grabbed Stephen’s face – and then leaned in and kissed him. Firm, deliberate, and grounding.

The sudden contact startled Stephen, jolting him out of his frantic thoughts, and for the first time, his eyes stopped flaring outward. His energy pulsed slow, drawn inward, anchored to the moment, to Tony.

The engineer held the kiss just long enough to give Stephen’s magic something stable to latch onto. When they parted, Stephen was breathing heavily, trembling, but the golden light receded to a soft glow in his eyes. The warmth of the engineer’s lips lingered.

“You–” Stephen breathed, staring at him, “you can’t–”

Tony interrupted him with a shake of his head. “I can, and I just did. Focus. Anchor. That’s all that matters right now. We need to get out of here.”

Stephen swallowed hard, grounding himself. “I can’t hold it,” he choked. “It’s… it’s getting worse. The dimension – it’s feeding off my energy. We need—” Stephen winced, clutching his head as another pulse of uncontrolled power tore through him. “I need a… a buffer. Something to stabilize the flow. Something not tied to this dimension, or to my own magic. A different kind of energy entirely.”

Tony stared at him for half a second, then tapped his chest. “You mean this?”

Stephen froze. His expression said yes, but also absolutely not.

“Tony,” he said tightly, “your arc reactor is not designed to interface with mystic energy on any level. If I channel magic through it–”

“I’m aware I might explode. Been there. Didn’t love it.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Tony stood up and pulled the sorcerer to his feet as well. “You said you need a clean, external power source. This is literally why I built this thing – to keep going when everything else falls apart.”

Stephen’s breath hitched, another spark of uncontrolled magic flickering beneath his skin. His pupils were still half-slit, shimmering gold in the dim light.

“I don’t like this,” he admitted quietly. The thought of the feedback burning Tony from the inside out felt like a dagger to his heart. And Stephen couldn’t guarantee his own control right now – not with the chaos of magic warping reality around them.

Tony offered a small, steady smile – the kind he’d perfected for heroes on the verge of losing it. “Hey. You just got thrown twenty yards by a magic tree having a tantrum. I think we’re past the point of liking our options.”

Stephen closed his eyes. The scales on his temples brightened, then faded again. “We only get one attempt,” he whispered. “I’ll take only as much as I need. Only enough to open a gateway. No more.”

“Deal.” Tony nodded once.

Stephen lifted his trembling hands, hesitating just long enough for Tony to realize that the sorcerer wasn’t worried about the spell – he was worried about him.

“Tony… I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs.

“You won’t,” Tony whispers, steady and calm. He reaches out and places Stephen’s clawed hand over the reactor.

The reaction was instantaneous. A ring of golden sparks burst outward, then were sucked back in, drawn toward the reactor like iron filings to a magnet. The energy between them ignited in a blinding wash of blue, gold, and something older and deeper – dragon-fire magic threaded with nanotech brilliance.

Tony grunted as electricity jolted through his ribs. The armor took the brunt of it; still, it was unpleasant. “Okay – okay… that tickles in a ‘please don’t vaporize me’ kind of way.”

Stephen was barely listening. His eyes glowed gold, magic flowing through him cleanly now. The dimension shuddered, sensing the sudden shift in power. With the reactor anchoring him, he felt stronger, more controlled, and ready to face the final stretch.

“Almost…” Stephen rasped. “Almost there–”

But the tree behind them flared violently, reacting to the sudden surge. The pocket dimension twisted, bending inward like a collapsing lung.

“Merlin!” Tony shouted. “We gotta move this along before the whole place folds into a pretzel!”

Stephen tightened his grip on the reactor, voice shaking. “Just… a moment… more–”

His magic, mixed with Tony’s energy, surged in a way neither of them had anticipated. The pocket dimension groaned – deep, shaking, like a wounded creature. The sky fractured overhead, shards of mirror-like light peeling away and spiraling downward. Streets crumpled in on themselves. Reflections split, froze, and then exploded like glass under pressure.

They had seconds. Maybe less.

Stephen’s breath came harsh and uneven. Smoke curled around his shoulders as his glamour flickered wildly – scales blooming and receding like they couldn’t decide whether to exist. His eyes blazed gold, but only in pulses.

“It’s not enough,” Stephen choked out. “I need—” His voice broke. He needed his dragon form to push them through. At the same time, shifting forms was probably the final straw that would bring this whole place down.

Tony met his eyes, sharp and pragmatic, even as the world folded inward. “Do it.”

Stephen looked away, jaw clenched. “If I let go completely… you’ll see everything. I won’t be able to hide anything. I won’t be able to control anything.”

“Stephen.” Tony put his own hand over the sorcerer’s, feeling the energy of both Stephen and the arc reactor mixed together.

Stephen trembled – not from fear of the dimension, but fear of himself. “If I lose control, I could hurt you. I could–”

Tony cupped his face with his other hand. Warm. Steady. Real. “Stephen,” he whispered, voice like a point of calm in the collapsing world, “I’m right here.”

Stephen met his eyes. Gold and blue reflections twisted between them.

Tony nodded once, certain and unwavering. “I trust you.”

The sorcerer inhaled; one sharp, shuddering breath – and then he let go.

Scales rippled across his skin in waves – deep blue first, then gold, shifting like liquid light. Wings burst outward, vast and luminous, unfolding across the shattered sky with a grace that didn’t belong to anything mortal. Magic swelled around him; raw, ancient, primal. His roar tore through the air like thunder shaped into sound. The world bowed beneath him.

And still–

Still–

He lowered his enormous head toward Tony. Slowly. Carefully. Not with the dominance of a predator, but the reverence of a creature offering trust only so often in a lifetime. Tony stepped toward him, unflinching. The arc reactor glowed fiercely, pulsing in perfect sync with the dragonfire smoldering beneath Stephen’s scales.

Tony rested a hand against Stephen’s snout – warm, scaled, and alive with power. “Bring us home,” he murmured.

Stephen’s pupils narrowed, glowing with fierce, brilliant purpose. Then, with a roar that shook the collapsing city to its bones, the dragon reared back. Magic flooded through his wings, his teeth, the silver-blue crest blazing like a star igniting.

He unleashed a torrent of pure magical flame – white-gold, crackling, singing through the air – directly into the fractured sky.

The dimension screamed and ripped open. A circular portal tore itself wide, swirling with golden fire and reactor-blue pulses, the combined energies cutting a path back to the real world.

Tony braced himself, hand still pressed to Stephen’s scales.

“Home,” he repeated, louder now, as the dimension buckled beneath them.

Stephen roared in answer, and leaped through the blaze. The unstable pocket dimension shattered behind them, leaving only the glow of the rift as it closed.

__________________

Smoke curled around the cracked ground. Tony sprawled half on top of Stephen – back in his regular form… mostly. Both men were breathing hard, hearts still racing from the intensity of the escape. Their clothes were singed, hair mussed, and Stephen’s scales were fading but still shimmered faintly under the dim lights of the HYDRA base. Tony had lost parts of his armor, and they lay scattered around them.

From a short distance, the rest of the Avengers – Natasha, Steve, Sam, and even Rhodey – approached them cautiously. They had seen Tony and Stephen getting sucked into the strange, rune-marked item earlier and had immediately called Wong for backup.

Steve blinked, his jaw tight. “Uh… they made it back? Are you guys alright?”

Natasha stepped closer, hands on her hips, eyebrows raised. “And… what is that?”

Stephen stiffened slightly as his golden eyes met the team’s. Patches of blue scales shimmered faintly in the light.

Sam stopped dead, staring. “Wait… that looks like… a lizard?”

Wong approached quietly behind them, expression calm as ever. He simply nodded toward Stephen. “Dragon,” he corrected Sam.

Everyone else turned to him. “Are you serious?” Rhodey asked, incredulous.

Wong inclined his head. “I did not expect him to reveal it so dramatically. But yes.”

Stephen exhaled shakily, the last tendrils of smoke curling around his shoulders. “We did it,” he said softly to Tony, voice still carrying the faint echo of the dragon.

Tony sat up, brushing his hair out of his face. “If you ever hide something like that from me again, I’m installing security cameras in your astral plane,” he told the wizard.

Stephen blinked, still catching his breath. “What – what does that even mean?”

Tony leaned down, forehead brushing against Stephen’s. Warm, steady, real. “It means you’re stuck with me, Sparkles. Scales and all.”

Stephen blushed. He lifted a hand – now fully human – and rested it gently over Tony’s arc reactor. The soft glow pulsed beneath his fingers.

“And you’re stuck with me,” he replied softly, golden eyes meeting Tony’s. “Even in the places where light breaks.”

The Avengers stared, processing the sight of their friends, sitting on the ground, smoke curling around them. They felt like they had just missed a major plot point.

Eventually, Wong stepped forward. “We should stabilize the area. And perhaps discuss… containment.”

Tony waved him off, pragmatic but relaxed. “Nah. We’ve got this. Right, Gandalf?”

Stephen smirked faintly, curling slightly as the last traces of the dragon shimmer faded. “Right.”

__________________

The workshop was comfortably quiet, afternoon sunlight painting golden streaks across scattered tools.

Tony was perched on a stool, tinkering with a small device, humming to himself.

Stephen leaned casually against the workbench, human form for now, arms crossed – but something flickered across his forearms: scales shimmering faintly, catching the light.

Tony glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “Uh-oh… I think someone feels sparkly.”

Stephen flushed faintly, but couldn’t hide the small grin tugging at his lips. “It was… just residual. You don’t need to point it out.”

Tony hopped down from the stool, walking over slowly, grinning. “Residual, huh? Yeah, sure. Let me see that. Maybe I could… recalibrate it.”

Stephen froze, slitted eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “I highly doubt you’d call it recalibration if I said no.”

Tony shrugged innocently. “True. But come on – how often do I get to poke a dragon?”

Before Stephen could react, Tony gently poked his forearm. The scales shimmered even brighter, then rippled across his shoulders, catching the light like a living metal coat.

Stephen snorted, the sound echoing softly in the workshop. “I swear, you are impossible.” He aimed for annoyance, but couldn’t avoid the fondness creeping into his voice.

Tony leaned closer, playful and proud. “Yeah, but lovable. And you, Sparkles… well, let’s just say I kind of like the dragon accessories.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “You are ridiculous.”

Tony smirked, nudging him lightly. “And yet, here we are. Together.”

Stephen’s hand drifted to rest lightly on Tony’s chest, just above the arc reactor. “Together,” he echoed, the warmth in his touch softening the shimmer of scales.

Stephen woke to raised voices. He stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out who could possibly be yelling in Tony’s apartment.

He slid from the bed, moving quietly toward the kitchen. He paused at the end of the hallway where he could see into the kitchen, but the people in the kitchen couldn’t see him. Tony was at the counter, back to Stephen, hunched in on himself. Across from Tony was Howard, his expression furious.

“—one job, Tony. But you seem eager to throw away my trust. I made you head of R&D, and yet I’m hearing the weapons division has barely seen you!”

“The other divisions are underdeveloped,” Tony started, tone monotone. “If we can revamp—”

The backhand, when it came, shocked Stephen so much he found himself jerking back, as though he’d been the one hit.

Tony’s head jerked to the side, but he otherwise didn’t react even as Howard’s breathing went heavy with exertion. “Stark Industries isn’t your playground, Tony. The only reason you have anything is because of me.”

It took everything in Stephen not to storm into the kitchen and tell Howard to fuck off. If it weren’t for the fact his and Tony’s relationship was a secret because of Howard, he would. Stephen would not give Howard another reason to hurt Tony.

Thankfully Howard had apparently conveyed his message—threat—because he left a few minutes later.

Stephen was at Tony’s side just as the door shut. “Let me see. How bad is it?” He cupped Tony’s chin, tilting his head to see the damage. A red imprint colored Tony’s cheek.

Tony looked resigned. “You saw that?”

“Yes.” Stephen took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Tony’s smile was a little tired. “Thank you,” he said. “If he’d known about you…” He trailed off, but Stephen knew what he meant.

“Are you okay?” Stephen asked.

That earned him an exhausted laugh. “Howard’s pushing 80, Stephen. It hardly hurts, anymore. I can defend myself against a 76-year-old man if I need to.”

Rage at Howard twisted in Stephen’s chest, but he didn’t let it show. “Physically, maybe,” Stephen said. “But you weren’t always physically able to protect yourself. Spending so long unable to protect yourself starts doing its own sort of damage.”

“I wasn’t abused, Stephen,” Tony said, tired. “I was a difficult kid.”

Stephen bit his tongue to stop himself from arguing. He’d help Tony more by showing him what it meant to be safe rather than demanding he accept what his childhood had really been like. “You deserved better,” he said instead. “No matter how difficult you were.”

“Yeah, well I’m still difficult,” Tony muttered. “The weapons division is our biggest moneymaker and…” He trailed off, sighing.

“It’s the weekend,” Stephen said, because Tony needed to hide from this and Stephen could give him that. “Come back to bed.”

Tony seemed grateful for the out and let Stephen tug him back to bed.

Tony closed his eyes and pretended to fall asleep the moment they were in bed, but Stephen couldn’t stop thinking. He couldn’t protect Tony from Howard, not really. Howard wasn’t just Tony’s parent, he held Tony’s future in his hands considering Stark Industries. Even if Tony was the key to SI’s future.

The thought revolved in his mind.

“Tony?” Stephen prodded.

Tony grimaced, but did open his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Howard,” he said.

“All right, all right,” Stephen said. “I’ll get on with it.”

Tony watched as Stephen started shaping the magic, fascinated when he realized that his raven eyes saw more than just the normal orange that Stephen’s magic normally manifested as. The core was still orange, but the flickers of static were a mix of silver, gold, and a neon blue. Huh, fascinating.

Tony watched as the magic extended from Stephen reaching out toward Tony. An instinctive part of Tony wanted to get out of the way of magic’s path, but that would defeat the purpose. Stephen’s magic wouldn’t hurt Tony.

The magic stopped a few inches from him and Tony looked past it to Stephen, whose brow was furrowed with concentration. The magic seemed stalled where it was. Tony was about to caw to get Stephen’s attention before it clicked.

The magic was waiting for him.

Well then.

He extended his head and carefully tapped the magic with his beak.

The magic immediately washed over him, and he felt a little bit like he was drinking hot chocolate while also relaxing in a sauna: Warm and satisfied.

He gave a little shake, and felt the magic dance off of his wings.

Tony? Stephen’s voice seemed to whisper in his head.

It took Tony a moment to focus on something other than the magic. Hear you, he answered. Did it work both ways?

“Yes,” Stephen said aloud. He looked entirely pleased. “Perfect.”

Tony had to agree. I take it back, Tony said. That did feel good. He was a little reluctant to admit it, but if they were going to continue with actual experimentation, it felt important to acknowledge that the experience thus far was going well.

Now Stephen looked abominably smug.