Do You Know Who I Am?

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/16896132.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Category: F/M, Gen, M/M
Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Character: Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Vision (Marvel)
Additional Tags: Civil War Team Iron Man, Not Team Captain America Friendly, Slow
Burn, Winteriron endgame, Additional Warnings In Author's Note
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2018-12-07 Updated: 2019-10-28 Words: 8,718 Chapters:
5/?

Do You Know Who I Am?

by DreadPirateWombat, Jamie_Aizen

Summary

Tony Stark disappears within two hours of Steve Rogers abandoning him in the Siberian
Hydra base.

Six weeks later, he is rediscovered in a village.

He is barefoot and filthy, and clearly bears signs of starvation and torture.

He also bears news of an incoming threat: Thanos is coming.

With a new friend at his side, Tony gets to work preparing for the invasion, along with the
rest of the world.

Unknowing that there is a greater evil brewing in the universe.

(Spoiler Alert: It's not the purple grape heading to earth)
 Author's Note- READ FIRST!

Author’s Note

5/27/2019

Hello all you Marvel Fans and welcome back.

Apologies for the absence as real life has been hectic and this fic had to take a back burner for a
while as I struggled with not only financial troubles but the inspiration for this. Thankfully I have
received major assistance and we are slowly pushing forward. This section is very important and I
would be grateful if you would take the time and read this area.

First off:

1. Do You Know Who I Am now has a co-writer, DreadPirateWombat.

2. THIS FIC IS TEAM IRON MAN AND NOT ROGUE AVENGERS-FRIENDLY

There may be some bashing, but we are doing our best not to have the Rogues be two-
dimensional caricatures.
DON’T LIKE? DON’T READ.

3. The main romantic pairing of this fic is WinterIron (i.e., James Barnes/Tony Stark) - that
means Male/Male romance and possibly smut (if we decide to include any we will warn for
it and change the rating).
Again: DON’T LIKE? DON’T READ.

4. Trigger warnings will be posted in the notes at the end of the chapter. Please check them
if you are at risk of being triggered and take care of yourself.

5. We have a posting schedule planned for this fanfic - 3 chapters every 3 months. The next
few chapters will be posted within a few weeks (?) as they are already written and are in the
process of being proofread. However, once either Chapter 3 or Chapter 4 is posted, we will
resume proper scheduling and stick to it. With family, jobs, and school, real life must come
first; and there are going to be days where we need to take off for self-care. Please do not
barrage us with pleas for faster updates and more chapters. We agreed to this schedule as it
gives us more time to not only create the chapters but to make sure we are presenting our
best.

6. The majority of the story is in planning mode and about ⅓ of it has been shared and
confirmed between us. Chapters still need to be written in a timely manner, however, if we
find ourselves in a situation where we cannot update on time, we will let the readers know.

7. Characters and relationships have already been confirmed and will be added as the story
continues. While we do ask for feedback for this story and what you would like to see, please
 understand that we will not be able to accommodate everyone’s request. As I mentioned
before, the plot along with characters and most of the details have been planned.

8. This is an AU post-Captain America: Civil War Avengers. It is canon-divergent after that

and for Infinity War/Endgame canon. I myself have yet to see Endgame (even though it has
been spoiled by friends), but since we are going off script for this fanfic, it should not be a
big deal.

9. There are some aspects from the Marvel Comic series in terms of characters and certain
situations. However, we are staying in the MCU verse which means no FOX-affiliated
superhero teams (X-MEN, Fantastic Four, or Deadpool). Also, no DC universe is going to be
in this story. Please do not ask us about adding them as we are not planning to.

10. No flames, please. Constructive criticism only. While we are turning on comment
moderation to eliminate trolls, please understand that this is a story that should be enjoyed
and if you do have an issue with something, you have the right to let us know. Please do not
abuse us and try to pick a fight. If you have a problem, please state what that issue is. We
might not be able to get to every comment and review and for that, we apologize in advance.

11. For those of you who read the fanfic and want to review but cannot, I apologize but we will
not turn off the comment moderation.

12. Last but not least, we hope you enjoy this story. This is a massive project that has been on
my mind and it would not have been half as wonderful and trying without the help of
DreadPirateWombat!
 Prologue

PROLOGUE:

“We will be watching you, Herr Stark. Do remember that any trickery will result in… unpleasant
consequences.”

There was a snarky remark on the tip of his tongue, but Tony still had the fire along his ribs from
the last time he had opened his mouth. The beating he had suffered under the Hydra soldiers was
evidence of just how enthusiastic they were about dealing out those "unpleasant consequences."

Must be something about how superior they felt to get one over the Avengers.

Tony shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand past the dizziness caused by too little sleep
and even less food. He rubbed the area between his aching eyes as he glanced back at the screen
and began typing various codes and commands, hands surprisingly steady on the keyboard. Then
again, he’d always had steady hands, had to, being an engineer. In his line of work, shaky hands
could result in the loss of a finger or months of work.

Tony shook his head again. Focus!

Fortunately for him, he had had the foresight to input certain prompts into the program,
commands, and processes hidden behind innocuous bits of code he subverted for his own purposes.

A backdoor into his machine.

Tony looked up towards the circular steel gate, adorned with his famous arc reactor and
grimaced. He went over his calculations again and then again, recalculating his odds on surviving
the calamity he was about to create. It was risky, and would be a helluva lot safer for him to just let
the machine do what the Hydra morons expected. It would be safer, smarter maybe, to give them
what they wanted and give them a reason to keep him alive. But really, why bother?

No one was coming for him.

Tony knew there would be no rescue, not in time to save him, anyway. No one knew where he was.
Even if his locations were somehow discovered, there was no one left to come for him. The earlier
beating had at the very least cracked a rib, and he had developed a cough he couldn’t shake. He’d
lost muscle mass and what was left trembled with exhaustion most days. There was a 75% chance
he wouldn’t survive another month in this place and a 50% chance Hydra would kill him as soon
as they knew he had succeeded in creating their Super Stupid Doomsday Device ( ™Tony Stark).
He didn’t like those odds. He preferred to make his own.

There was a 95% probability of him surviving the coming explosion, a 95% chance that there
would be an eye in the storm that leaving him battered but alive.

The other 5% would see him splattered across the facility walls.

“Herr Stark, we are waiting,” an impatient voice broke Tony from his thoughts.

Tony heard the telltale sounds of the safety being switched off on multiple guns, and he took a deep
breath. He finished the last line of commands and pressed the enter key.

“It’s done.”

“Then please step away from the console Herr Stark.”

Tony took several steps to the right, measuring them so he did not step beyond the area he had
calculated earlier. The machine began whirring and the arc reactor flickered as the power
fluctuated before stabilizing. The air turned staticky, little arcs of electricity sparking here and
there. Tony felt his heart race as he watched the energy crackle within the portal of the gate. He
could hear cheering and excitement as the Hydra operatives celebrated their success.

Exactly two minutes after the machine started, a klaxon of alarm rang out. From within the center
of the gate, bolts of energy lashed out, hitting the agents closest to the machine before arcing to
those further away. Screams accompanied the sounds of bodies dropping to the ground. Tony gave
himself a mental pat on the back as his calculations proved correct. While he was in the “safe”
zone, anything more than 3.7 feet from the machine would be struck with enough volts to stop a
person’s heart. Within the safe zone, the energy particles wouldn’t have enough velocity to kill.
With his 2 feet of distance, Tony’s weakened heart should be safe, and he should come out with
only minor injuries. His captors, however, were helpless and would be left as nothing more than
jerky. Some tried to escape, but they were dead as soon as they touched the METAL door. The
spectators were dead within seconds, but Tony knew reinforcements were on their way. They would
suffer the same fate. Even if they managed to stay out of range, the power would continue to
increase, eventually tearing the base apart. No one but him could reach the console, and if they
couldn't shut off the power from anywhere else. It was his arc reactor powering the SSDD, so no
plugs, and should it be damaged, the arc would create an explosion that would turn the facility
into a crater the size of a small city. Shooting Tony would accomplish nothing, and he was at the
point of feeling like he wouldn't mind so much if they did, as long as he took the rest of him with
them.

Tony's plan was to wait past the first two waves of reinforcements, then he should be able to get to
a vehicle and make it out. It was a gamble, but one Tony had been confident (95%) would succeed
in his favor.

It was only when his vision tinged with red and he felt an electric current pull at his body that Iron
Man realized something had gone wrong...

-END OF PROLOGUE-
 Chapter One
Chapter Summary

Note: This is technically Chapter 1A, the second half will be up in a few days as a new
chapter, Chapter 1B. When the second full chapter goes up, 1A and 1B will be
combined into a single chapter.

Trigger warnings are at the end in the Author's Notes.

As for this chapter:

Tony finds himself in a strange world with an even stranger companion...

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Chapter One:

A sharp, throbbing pain in his head was the only indication that Tony Stark was still alive after the
blinding light and accompanying explosion.

‘Fucking Hydra scientists…’

It took a few moments for him to convince his eyes to open, and he regretted doing so immediately
as the harsh sun caused his head to pound and his eyes teared up with pain. As he lay there beneath
the pounding sun letting his eyes adjust to its glare, he had the vague thought that something about
the sun was off. Not only had he been indoors when the explosion happened, but it had been after
dark. Also, the scorching heat was a nice change from the cold and snowy fortress where Hydra
had stashed him.

Tony threaded his right hand through his hair, wincing at the dirt and sweat mixed in the strands.
The brunette slowly sat up, hissing as he felt every inch of him protest the movement. A traitorous
thought crept into his mind before he could stop it: ‘I’m getting too old for this…’

He quickly shoved the thought aside, focusing instead on trying to determine what the hell had
happened to him and where in the fucking Science he was. He blinked against the sun as he took in
his surroundings.

He was sitting on coarse, dry grass. It stretched out to the horizon on both sides and behind him.
However, about 20 feet in front of him, there was a copse of trees surrounding a pond. He could
see more trees past the pond, a wood.

After searching the area with his eyes and listening carefully, Tony was relieved that he seemed to
be alone, although he wished briefly that he had his suit and its scanners to make sure. He still
didn’t drop his guard. He didn’t know where he was or what exactly had happened. He had no idea
how much time had passed.
Was Hydra looking for him? Were they coming to drag him back to their little workshop of
horrors?

The thought caused a flare of panic in Tony’s chest. He grasped at his chest, fingers digging into
his threadbare shirt. Between injuries, illness, and Hydra’s twisted experiments Tony wasn’t sure
how long Hydra had held him. The only thing he could be certain about was that it had been at
least several weeks, and he only knew that because his captors liked to gloat. They’d shove his face
into newspapers with the headlines demanding his presence and answers, screaming for the truth
behind the so-called Avengers Civil War. He wouldn’t put it past the bastards to have shown him
headlines from days or weeks before. Luckily, I don’t think they would go to the trouble of making
fake newspapers just to fuck with me.

One of the agents had had the honor of reporting that the other Avengers had escaped Ross’
custody and the world was searching for them. So stupid, they just made their situation worse.

From what he was able to gather, the newspapers were still speculating as to what had happened
during the ‘Civil War’ as they had taken to calling it, and wondering where the ex-Avengers were
hiding. Apparently, some even speculated that Tony was with them.

Thank god for Pepper. And his PR Team. Tony knew they would do their utmost to protect SI
from the truly colossal clusterfuck that the whole mess had been. It was better if the news of his
disappearance was kept quiet. Tony Stark in hiding and Tony Stark missing were two very
different things. And Science forbid if the public thought he was dead. The two previous times he
had been presumed dead, stocks had plummeted, and the global economy had stumbled.

Tony let out a hiss of pain as he placed his hand on the ground and pushed himself to a standing
position, ignoring the aches and cracks of his stressed bones, the burning soreness in his muscles.
He arched his back, stretching his arms over his head, then bent forward. He stretched his legs and
did an internal check of his physical condition. After determining that despite how his captivity had
weakened him, he was probably strong enough to move, he started towards the pond.

The open plain behind him made his shoulder blades itch, and he circled around the water’s edge
until the trees were at his back. The water was clear and glistening, and for a moment Tony was
tempted to dunk his head to cool off, but he reigned in the impulse. Who knew what type of
bacteria and animal filth was swimming in the innocent-seeming water?

Tony did take the opportunity to examine his face in detail. It wasn’t like Hydra provided him a
mirror in his cell, and reflective surfaces had been few and far between. The ones in the labs had
yielded only blurry blotches of color.

His face was sunken underneath his unkempt beard, and his skin was pale from lack of food and
sunlight. The Hydra agents had allowed him to shower during his stay, but it had been days since
his last one, and there were smudges of dirt and oil scattered on his skin. His guards had not been
stupid enough to allow him a razor or scissors, and his hair was now reached his chin. The waves
were matted and coated with grime, and there was a patch near his right temple where he had
clearly smudged oil into his hair.

His eyes he ignored completely - he didn’t want to know.

Tony knew that beneath his clothes, he was nothing but bones and tight, wiry muscle. If he lifted
his shirt, he would see new bruises layered upon healing ones, nicks, and cuts scattered
everywhere, some still stained with blood.
He was so focused on cataloging the changes in his appearance that he barely heard the voice that
spoke from behind.

“You are a long way from home, néséne …”

The smooth voice startled Tony and he spun around palm raised, only to remember that he didn’t
have his gauntlet watch anymore. He adapted quickly, clenching his fists and taking a fighting
stance. If this new arrival was a threat, he promised himself he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

A person stood about 10 feet from Tony, and a little further into the trees Tony could see a
campfire burning. The stranger appeared to be of Native American descent. They were taller than
Tony, over 6 feet, and dressed in relaxed jeans and a flannel button-down layered over a loose
thermal shirt. They had waist-length silvered hair framing high cheekbones in a weathered face.
Tony placed their age about 60. Their face was neither distinctly masculine or feminine, and loose
clothing hid their form, but from their voice and build, Tony guessed the stranger was male. The
other’s stance was easy and non-threatening; he seemed mostly curious.

Despite the man’s relaxed pose, there was an air about him that screamed of power. Tony
swallowed nervously He wasn’t bad at hand-to-hand combat (first Happy and then Romanov had
made sure he could stand against most attackers), he was pretty sure the man wasn’t baseline
human. Not to mention, the months of abuse by Hydra and minimal nutrients had left him in a
weakened state.

The strange man seemed to guess his thoughts, and the corners of his mouth lifted in an amused
smile. “Come now, if I wanted to kill you I would have done so while your back was turned,” he
said in a reasonable tone.

Rolling his eyes, Tony dropped his hands and straightened from his defensive stance, before
walking towards the speaker. As he came closer, Tony could make out smudges of dirt on the
other man’s clothes, as well as his hands, as if he had just been digging in the earth. It was also
clear that under his loose clothing the man was muscular, despite his elderly appearance. He wore
a necklace made of brown leather cord threaded with beads made of metal and shell. His flannel
sleeves had been rolled to his elbows, and red leather bands etched with geometric patterns circled
his thick wrists.

Despite his aged face, he had few wrinkles. There were deep crows feet around his eyes, but they
didn’t make him look tired and instead spoke of wisdom and laughter. His amused smile had
softened to one friendliness, and his deep brown eyes were full of gentleness. His hair was still
mostly black, but there were thick ribbons of silver threaded through it.
The man seemed completely at ease in his skin, relaxed completely unafraid. Tony could admit to
a bit of envy at the stranger’s comfortable state. Tony himself felt distinctly un comfortable, in a
filthy gray shirt twice his size and black pants with the waistband rolled down to keep them from
falling off, feet aching and chafed in their scratchy socks and cheap, too-big loafers because the
Hydra bastards hadn’t trusted him with laces.

The man seemed to note Tony’s fatigue, as he cleared his throat and gestured towards the small fire
pit. Tony accepted the offer, stumbling towards the circle of light as the sky dimmed. Okay, middle
of nowhere, check. Mysteriously appearing stranger, check. I’m in a horror movie and the kindly-
looking grandfather is going to end up killing and eating me. Tony tried to muster up some sort of
feeling about his clearly inevitable murder, but he was just too damn tired. Too tired to try and
figure out where the hell he was and too tired to look try and take control of the situation. Instead,
he sank to the ground beside the fire, feeling terribly grateful that he was not alone in this place.

Even with the sun setting, the air was still hot and stifling, though thankfully the fire was small
enough to not give off much heat. After Tony was settled, the other man took his own seat on the
other side of the fire.

“It has been a while since I have received any visitors on this plane,” said the man with a smile,
“and you are just in time for tea.”

Tony blinked at the word “plane,” and suddenly a copper tea kettle had appeared nestled next to
the fire pit, along with two fired-clay cups. His weary brain wasn’t sure how to react to that, and
eventually decided it wasn’t worth questioning. He was exhausted, thirsty and famished. The nice
man was offering Tony something to drink, what did it matter that he had magically appearing
dishes? The whole “plane” thing could wait as well.

So, Tony arranged himself more comfortably, one leg resting on the ground, the other bent so
upwards so he could rest his arm and head on it. He observed his companion as the man produced
a canister of tea leaves from … somewhere ( don’t think about it, Tony ) and carefully measured
them out before adding them to the kettle, which must have already been filled with water ( nope,
still not thinking about it ). Still, Tony found watching the ritual comforting. It reminded him of
when Ana Jarvis would take a much smaller him to her kitchen to make them something hot to
drink, cider or cocoa for him and tea for herself. They would then sit at the kitchen table, and Anna
would sip her cup while listening to Tony chatter. He had always loved those times, especially
after being in Howard’s threatening presence.

The two men sat quietly while the tea steeped. After several minutes, the other man poured tea into
each of the cups, before holding one of them out to Tony. Tony stared at the cup in the other man’s
hand, the thought of taking it from him made his hands clench.
Misunderstanding Tony’s hesitation, the man across from him chuckled, “Do not worry, néséne. It
is not poisoned.”

“No, that’s not it” Tony replied. He swallowed, eyeing the cup like he expected it to bite him. “I
just, I don’t like being handed things,” he admitted, then tensed waiting for his companion’s
inevitable annoyed response. I don’t know why you have to make things so difficult, Tony.

Instead, the man simply gave Tony an assessing look, before setting the cup on the ground
between them. Tony felt his shoulders relax at the other man’s easy acceptance. He let his bent leg
fall as he leaned forward to pick up the cup, then settled with his legs loosely crossed. Tony
thanked the older man, and then they both took a moment to inhale the scented steam of their
drinks. After several moments of silence, Tony quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Do you always just
give random strangers a cup of tea or am I just special?”

The man gave a hearty laugh. “It is a courtesy,” he replied. “You have granted me the gift of your
company,” he said, smiling, “the least I can do is offer you something to drink.”

Tony was beyond thirsty, still, he hesitated to drink. The scent of the tea reminded him so strongly
of Ana and Jarvis. Both had been religious drinkers of the beverage. Ana had had a Zsolnay tea set
she had brought with her from her homeland. She said it had been a wedding present given to her
great-grandmother. Unlike the cream and gold tea set with its pale pink flowers that his parents
used for company, Ana’s pot and cups were a bright yellow, with large blue and red flowers. Ana
and Jarvis were religious drinkers of tea, and while Jarvis didn’t seem to care what cup his came in,
Ana always used her tea set when making any for herself. When she and Tony would drink
together, she would let Tony drink from one of the cheerful cups, and he had always felt so grown
up to be trusted with such a precious item.

When Ana passed away, Jarvis had packed the set away, its cheerful colors too painful a reminder.
When Jarvis passed away, he left the tea set to Tony, along with a letter in which he wrote that both
he and Ana had always thought of Tony as their child and that he deserved to have the set. Tony
had never been able to bring himself to open the box..

He stopped drinking tea entirely. It hurt too much. By the time the pain had dulled, he was a firm
devotee to coffee, and disdain of lesser beverage was well established.

Now, as Tony took his first sip of tea in decades, he was struck with an overwhelming wave of
longing for the Jarvises, for the sense of home and family and safe he had always felt around them.
It had been so long since he had felt anything close to the same.
“Are you alright, Dr. Stark?”

Tony hadn’t realized he had squeezed his eyes shut until they startled open at the sound of his
companion’s concerned voice. It was only then he realized hands were trembling around his cup.
Tony took a shaky breath. Shit. I can’t lose it here. Keep it together, Tony; you’re not safe yet.

Tony forced his hands to still and his, and relaxed his posture. He gave the older man a sharp
smile, “So you know who I am.”

The other man didn’t seem bothered by the change in Tony’s demeanor, his posture was still
friendly and relaxed. He just gave Tony a wry smile and replied, “Even the stars know who you
are, Dr. Stark.”

Before Tony could process that terrifying thought, the stranger gestured towards their small fire,
and the flames grew larger, taller than their seated forms. Tony scrambled away from the blaze
with a curse, but his companion didn’t even tense as the flames licked at his knees. Tony narrowed
his eyes, glancing between the man and the fire. He quickly realized that the temperature around
them hadn’t changed in the slightest. He moved forward cautiously but felt no increase in warmth.
Magic. He was a little surprised that he wasn’t freaking out more at that realization, but he
supposed the other man’s calm and friendly attitude helped. Also, there was no creepy red glow or
eerie blue eyes. And I’m not thinking about that. He flopped to the ground with a groan on the edge
of the flames that sat there cheerily burning but stubbornly giving off no heat, like a big fuck you to
blessed Science. Stupid magic and its defiance of physics, he pouted, glaring at the fire. At the
sound of a chuckle poorly disguised as cough, Tony turned his glare on his companion. The other
man’s friendly smile hadn’t changed, but Tony saw the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. The bastard
was laughing at him.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Showoff,” he muttered. The other man grinned at him. “Good for you, you
mastered dramatics 101, very impressive,” Tony said gesturing towards the blaze. “Was there a
point to that little display?” The stranger’s expression sobered, then he flicked his fingers at the
flames, and their color shifted from red to blue. Tony cringed at the color change.

“You must look, Dr. Stark,” said the stranger. “You must see. ”

Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to see , but he was also curious, and so he steeled himself and peered
into the flames.

Soon images began to appear, and quickly Tony realized that he was seeing himself. The Tony in
the flames was a younger version, the Tony from before Afghanistan and before Stane’s betrayal.
Tony watched as the younger him walked down the stairs of a building, blowing kisses and waving
his hands at the populace. This Tony was an asshole and cocky - but there was also a playfulness to
him. He laughed freely; he didn’t yet carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

‘God, when was the last time I felt that confident, that free ?’

The scene changed again and showed him in Afghanistan, wearing the Mark I and destroying the
weapons cache of the Ten Rings. Another flicker and Tony watched himself announce that the
weapon’s department of S.I would be shut down. The pictured shifted again and he was once more
in the Iron Man suit protecting a small boy wearing an Iron Man mask.

Over and over, the scenes changed - showing not only him but his moments with others.

Pepper smiling fondly at his bots.

Rhodey and him drinking beers and giggling like schoolchildren.

Happy patiently teaching Tony how to box.

Peter, so bright-eyed and excited to be able to help.

The Aveng-

The inventor felt his breathing quicken and his fingers twisted themselves into the fabric of his
pants. It was getting harder to breathe as he felt a weight sit in his chest. Sweat began to drip down
his forehead but the air felt so cold he was distantly surprised his breath didn’t frost. His ears rang
with the sound of metal on metal. He felt punches and kicks delivered with supersoldier force. His
vision swam and darkened around the edges, and then there was Rogers, fists clenched, ‘I can do
this all day.’

Were my calculations wrong? Had the explosion killed him? Maybe he was dead, maybe he had
never left the frozen bunker. And this is hell, he thought, as he heard his mother’s screams.

‘Howard!’

Yes, hell was lying alone, slowly freezing to death, knowing no one was coming to save him, and
being forced to listen to his parents’ murder on repeat. He could feel his fingers going numb, and it
 was so hard to breathe.

He felt warm fingers wrap around his left wrist, and suddenly he could hear a firm voice saying,
“You are not there, Tony. You are safe. You need to breathe.” The warmth on Tony’s wrist, so out
of place in the cold of Siberia, anchored him. He gripped the hand on his arm and closed his eyes,
concentrating on that calm voice. Slowly, he was able to push away the memories. Slowly, he
calmed his breathing. When his breathing had normalized and he had stopped shaking, Tony
opened his eyes. Finally, Tony opened his eyes, to see the older man kneeling in front of him, one
hand on Tony’s wrist. Tony flinched at the other’s nearness, this close he could see the color of his
eyes was not brown, as expected but a dark gray that swirled pale purples and blues. The kind
expression in those eyes allowed Tony to relax; he was safe.

He was grateful for his companion's assistance, so when he said, “Thanks,” it was heartfelt.

The man patted Tony,s arm, before releasing his wrist and returning to his previous seat. “It was
no trouble, Dr. Stark,” he said. He had picked up Tony’s cup from where it had fallen to the
ground. The stranger wiped it down before refilling it with tea and setting it within Tony’s reach.
“And I owe you an apology. I did not expect you to have such a visceral reaction to what you saw
in the flames.” He nodded towards the fresh cup of tea, “That will help you. You are pale and
could use the warmth.”

Tony picked up the cup with trembling fingers. He had many questions, but he still felt unsteady.
He knew he needed to be able to think clearly before demanding answers.

“Do not just gulp it down,” the man’s voice interrupted Tony’s attempt to do just that. “Try and
relax, focus on breathing,” he said. “Hold the cup under your nose and slowly inhale the steam.
Close your eyes and focus on your breathing and the object you are holding. Let the scent and feel
soothe and anchor you,” the stranger instructed.

The inventor nodded and obeyed the other’s directions. As he inhaled the familiar scent, the
tightness in his chest eased, and his breathing became easier. He focused on the warmth of the cup
in his hand and the rich taste on his tongue as he drank slowly. The liquid warmed him up from the
inside, and he felt himself calm even more.

-End of Chapter One-

Chapter End Notes

Trigger warning for Tony having a flashback to Siberia.
 Author's Note
Chapter Summary

Author's Note (Will be deleted when the next chapter is up)

Hello everyone.

Jamie here with an announcement!!

~Important fact to start off with is that we have not abandoned the story. It is still going strong and
hopefully, we’ll get the next chapter out real soon.

However, real-life has a way of kicking us where it hurts. Both myself and DreadPirateWombat
have been dealing with personal issues that have pulled our attention away from this work of
fiction. I have been dealing with financial issues and preparing for re-entering into college again.
DreadPirateWombat has been dealing with family and health issues so they needed time away and
a long break (they deserve that).

We do have the next chapter written out, it just needs to be edited.

Thank you all for being patient with us. Hopefully, we won’t take another long hiatus but if we do,
we’ll be better at communicating with the audience and don’t go silent for too long.

Hey people!

DreadPirateWombat here; I wanted to apologize for the delayed updates. It’s mostly my fault as
I’ve been struggling with depression for the past several months. Luckily, things APPEAR to be on
the upswing, so we should have the next chapter out within the next week. Thank you for your
patience everyone!
 Chapter 2
Chapter by DreadPirateWombat

Chapter Summary

In which Sani and Tony learn more about each other.

Chapter Notes

Hello, wonderful, patient readers!

We are so sorry it's taken so long to get this up. We hope you enjoy the chapter!

P.S. - In case you were worried, Peter Parker will be appearing in this story, regardless
of the Disney vs Sony fuckery going on.

Tony and the older man sat in peaceful silence for a long while, the stranger refilling Tony’s cup
without being asked. Tony very much appreciated the respite. He was always shaky after a panic
attack - who am I kidding, that was a fucking flashback - and he felt like an exposed nerve. Just like
Bruce. The respite allowed Tony to clear his mind, to compartmentalize and rebuild some of his
walls. He was still tired and sore, but after a while, he no longer felt his mind running in frantic
circles, nor did he feel on the verge of a breakdown. Thus, feeling steady for the first time since he
had woken up in this strange place, he was able to refocus on his current situation and his generous
host. His primary goal was to get home, he could deal with all the emotional bullshit later. In order
to get home, there were several questions he needed answered, the first being, Am I in danger?
followed closely by, Where the hell am I?

Regarding the first question, Tony had seen no signs of animals or people, other than himself and
his companion. The woods around them were silent, no sounds of creatures moving among the
trees, no birds calling. For all Tony could tell, they were the only two living things for miles. As
for Tony’s companion, he had not shown any signs of hostility so far. The man had been
welcoming and seemed genuinely apologetic that his actions had caused Tony distress. Still, the
other man clearly had powers, and Tony had no idea what their limits were. The comment about
the stars knowing Tony’s name wasn’t terribly comforting, either. Still, he did not seem to be an
immediate threat, and he was a potential ally. For the moment, Tony seemed reasonably safe.

As to the second question, Tony needed more data.

Turning his gaze back to the elderly man, Tony broke the silence, “I feel bad that you’ve been so
helpful and I don’t even know your name.”

The other man’s smiled was amused as he replied, “I am called Sani.”

“Thank you for your help, Sani,” Tony said sincerely, and he very much meant it.

The man nodded his acceptance of Tony’s thanks. “As I said, I did not expect the visions to affect
you so drastically; are these attacks normal for you?” he inquired, his tone soft.

Tony nodded, “I’ve had them before. Usually, I can calm myself, but this one-” he shrugged,
“well, you saw.” He took a sip of the drink, then changed the subject, “This tea is very good. I can
tell it’s a black tea, but it doesn’t taste like any I’ve had before.”

“You can’t buy this tea in stores; the base may be simple black tea, but the blend is an old family
recipe,” the older gentleman explained, a slightly amused smile quirking his lips. “My
grandmother refused to drink anything else. She was adamant that everyone in the family should
know how to make it to her specifications. Every child, as soon as they could hold a cup, was made
to learn,” nostalgia was plain in his voice, but there was an undercurrent of sorrow that resonated
with Tony. Sani chuckled, adding, “She used to tell my sister and me that we were making a magic
potion, so everything had to be just right or the magic wouldn’t work.”

Tony tilted his head towards the older man, “You guys were close?” he asked.

“We were,” the man smiled sadly as he picked up his cup, “but that was very long ago.” He paused
long enough that Tony opened his mouth to ask another question, but then the other man
continued. “I was telling the truth earlier when I said it has been a long time since anyone has
visited me. There is no one left who would wish to visit me, and strangers are exceedingly rare,”
Sani said, staring into his cup. “Just an old man left with his thoughts and memories,” he muttered
before taking another sip of his tea.

A heavy silence followed the older man’s words. Tony, who did NOT want to think about dead
families (‘Howard!’), decided to change the subject. Focus on collecting data!

“Where exactly are we?” Tony asked, widening his eyes and forcing a playful edge into his voice.
“Oooh, are we in Kansas?”

The question’s light tone seemed to pull Sani from his somber thoughts, his face and posture
relaxing, and his lips quirking up briefly at the reference. Then his expression turned serious.
“Unfortunately, Dr. Stark, you are not in Kansas anymore,” he said. “Actually, you’re not
anywhere on Earth.”

The inventor felt his heartbeat ratchet up, but he wouldn’t allow himself to panic. He could panic
once he had all the information. He narrowed his eyes at the older man, “Okay,” he said slowly,
“then where are we?”

Sani refilled his tea as he elucidated, “This place is a sort of pocket dimension. It’s outside of your
universe but still tethered to it by unseen forces.” He frowned, “I’m not entirely sure how to explain
it in terms you would understand”

Tony’s mind itched to delve into how something could be outside the universe, but instead, he
asked, “Is it similar to how one could say the moon is outside the earth but still linked to it by
gravity?”

“That is not a terrible analogy,” the older man replied, a thread of teasing in his voice. He took
another sip of his beverage and his voice took on a lecturing quality. “Because this dimension is
bound to your universe, I am able to observe events in it, whereas I cannot look into any other
universes.” Sani nodded in Tony’s direction, “It is how I knew your name, Dr. Stark.”

Tony took a deep breath, resolutely squashing his inner scientist that was squealing in excitement
about the implication of MULTIPLE UNIVERSES, as well as the part screaming in terror because
how was he supposed to get home? He was quite proud that his voice was steady when he asked,
“So, how did you end up here?” How did I end up here?

Sani’s expression sobered further. “I was sent here to save my life, such as it is,” he said, the last
few words tinged with bitterness. Tony’s only reply was a raised eyebrow. The older man’s
shoulders slumped with resignation and he tiredly rubbed a hand across his face. He then looked
up, and his gaze held the weight of centuries.

“I was born in a universe quite different from your own,” he began. “In my universe, the
colonization of what you know as America began much earlier and went much more smoothly for
the native peoples. First, the Norsemen came, and they were quickly followed by the Picts and the
Gaels, the Anglo-Saxons. They brought their weapons and magic, but we too had weapons, we too
had magic.”

When Sani paused, Tony simply nodded at him to go on, and the man resumed speaking, “Being
on foreign soil weakened the invaders’ magic; they had no ties to the land and their gods did not
hold sway there. The gods of the tribes, however, were strong, and their peoples’ magic had deep
roots in the land.” There was another pause as the older man appeared to gather his thoughts before
he spoke again. “I was born a score of generations after the initial contact with the colonizers. By
then a common language had developed, although each tribe, still had its own. In the common
tongue, all the lands claimed by tribes were known as Kéyhjem dor łą́-Folk'éí, or Land of Many
Peoples.”

Sani lifted his tea to drink but found his mug empty. He poured more into his cup, and Tony felt
relieved to be free of the man’s ancient gaze. When the man spoke again, his gaze was fixed on the
cup held between his hands. “My análí, my grandmother, had been the hataałii, what you would
call a shaman, for our tribe, the Hota’iin'ée. When I was deemed of age, I apprenticed to her. I
spent three decades learning from her and assisting herin her duties. Eventually, she retired to one
of the ley-towns, and I became hataałii for our tribe in her stead. By that time, I had already been
married for many years, and in fact, our eldest daughter was expecting her first child.”

He paused, gaze flicking to Tony then back to his cup, and between one breath and the next, the air
in the clearing turned heavy and sober. “I had started training my own apprentice when children
from the tribes began disappearing. Five were kidnapped from my tribe alone, including my five-
year-old grandson.” Sani’s closed his eyes, grief hollowing his features and voice choked with
grief. “Over two-hundred áłchíní under the age of ten were taken before the cause was discovered.”

Tony’s own throat was tight in sympathy for the other man. He hated himself a bit for demanding
his companion relive such painful memories, but he still needed to know how Sani had ended up in
this dimension or whatever it was and if the circumstances were similar to how he had ended up
there. So, after only a few moments, Tony gently prompted his companion with, “What was it?”

It took visible effort for Sani to collect himself and resume speaking. He closed his eyes, and there
were another few moments of his slow deep breathing, but when he spoke again, his voice was
steady. “Eventually, it came to light that the Fae were the ones who were stealing the children. The
Europeans had brought them along with their gods, and the tribes had encountered them before.
They, like the other immigrants, had been welcome to settle among us, as long as they followed the
tenets set down. However, the New World was not unclaimed and its magics were unfriendly to
these foreign níłchʼi. The Fae were still immensely powerful, at least those who had been born
overseas. However, this was not the case for any offspring born on łą́-Folk'éí soil.” He paused to
take a sip of his drink, before directing a questioning look to Tony. “Do you have much knowledge
of the Fae, Tony?”

Tony shook his head. “Magic isn’t really my area of expertise,” he replied with a self-deprecating
shrug. “Jarvis used to read stories of the sidhe to me when I was very little, and Ana would tell me
tales about the manók and the tündérek, but I don’t remember much.” He’d packed those memories
away along with Ana’s tea set.

Tony’s companion nodded, his expression thoughtful. “The Fae had never been a very fertile race.
There are numerous stories about changelings - mortal children stolen by fae - and the difficulties
of fae births. From what I understand, after coming to the New World, there had only been a literal
handful of Fae children born, and all of them were prodigiously weak.” Despite all the tea, Sani’s
voice had taken on a raspy quality. “I had sought out shamans from different tribes. We spoke with
wise men and women knowledgeable in the Old World’s mysteries, consulted Norse and Gaelic
shamans. We assumed the Fae meant to keep the children as changelings, keeping them in Faerie
until they became Fae themselves.” The old shaman smiled bitterly into the flames, his gaze far
away. “It was some small comfort to know that though we might never see our children again, that
they would remain trapped in another world until the were changed beyond all recognition, they at
least would still live. And then the dreams started.” The shaman abruptly knocked back the rest of
his tea, as if it contained something much stronger. He eyed his empty cup for several moments
before sighing in what seemed to be resignation. He then refilled his cup from the kettle once again
and resumed his tale.

“For every tribe or clan that had lost children, their shamans began receiving visions. Our gods
visited us in our dreams, foretelling blood and death should we fail in finding the children. It was
through these visions that the Fae’s true purpose was revealed. They planned to use the deaths of
our children to anchor themselves to the New World”

Tony felt his face twist in horror, Sani’s was etched in harsh lines of grief. The older man’s gaze
remained locked into the flames. Tony would have thought the shaman had forgotten his presence,
except the other man continued speaking, although his voice had gone flat, almost emotionless.

“The visions also revealed two other important pieces of knowledge: the Fae’s ritual required a
very specific alignment of the moon and stars and it would needs be performed in our world, as
opposed to the Fae realm. On one hand, these facts were in our favor, as we had an exact date of
the sacrifice and we no longer needed to find a way to invade the Fae realm. On the other hand,
there were less and two weeks until the celestial bodies would be in their places and we had no way
of knowing where the planned ritual would take place.” The older man took another sip of his tea,
but it seemed to be a reflexive action. The man’s expression hadn’t shifted at all, and his gaze
remained fixed in the past. Tony would bet the man wasn’t even aware he had done it all.

“We were very much aware that time was of the essence and that the odds of unearthing the
location were astronomical, and so we sought help. Our lands might have been new to the Fae, but
there were similar beings native to its soil. All of the shamans from the affected tribes, myself and
my análí included, performed a ceremony to request help from the níłchʼi. The being who
responded to our summons had no solid form, seeming to be made of bits and pieces of flame,
wind, and starlight. It expressed its willingness to act on our behalf but required a price be paid for
its aid. The being’s incorporeal form, while it would able to cross into Faerie undetected and
essentially spy on the Fae, meant it was unable to exist in the mortal realm for any significant
length of time. The payment it demanded for its services was the use of a mortal body to use as a
vessel for five years, so that it might experience the mortal world.”

There was a pause, as Sani took another automated sip.

“We were desperate and so we agreed to its terms. With the níłchʼi’s help, we were able to stop the
sacrifices before any of the children were killed. After being thwarted and suffering losses the Fae
were persuaded to sign a treaty. After the joyful reunions and celebrations, it came time to ‘pay the
piper’ as it were.” Tony found the lack of inflection in Sani’s voice unnerving, but he ignored his
sense of unease, as he could tell the older man’s story was near the end. “The níłchʼi who aided us
was familiar to the tribes; its kind were not necessarily malicious, but they were well-known
tricksters. It had only bargained for a body for five years, but in order to use the body as a vessel,
the original soul would have to be removed. The being, of course, had offered a container to house
the soul for the duration of the five-year contract. However, souls are not meant to exist on the
mortal plane without a body to house and anchor it. After five years of being separated, the soul
would have withered to the point that it would be a mercy to let it pass on. Essentially, the níłchʼi
had no intention of giving up its body after only five years.”

Sani fell silent, then, staring into the fire with a dark expression on his face. No words were spoken
for several minutes. Tony was reluctant to speak and possibly startle his companion, as the Shaman
seemed lost in his own thoughts. Don't poke the bear, Tony. So instead of pushing for that last bit
of the story, Tony used the time to examine his surroundings in more detail. He noted that not only
had there been no sights or sounds of animals or other people, but the area was virtually pristine.
There were no fallen twigs or leaves, no blades of grass showing signs of insect nibbling. Every
plant was perfect, with no signs of browning or damage. That's just a bit creepy

A long sigh from his companion interrupted Tony’s contemplation of the clearing. He turned his
attention back to the shaman, who seemed to be coming out of whatever trance he had been in.
Awareness had filtered back into his eyes and his face no longer seemed carved from stone. After
several slow, deep breaths, the man shook himself before rubbing a hand across his face. At last, he
turned his gaze to Tony, with a rueful grimace.

“Apologies, Tony,” he said. “I have never spoken of these events to anyone before. I was not fully
prepared for how recounting them would affect me.”

Tony shook his head. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize for anything,” he replied softly, a little
surprised at his own sincerity.

Sani bowed his head in thanks and took another deep breath before taking up his tale once again.
“In order to thwart the being’s trick, those of our company most advanced in magic and spirits
crafted a different sort of vessel for the soul that would have to be removed. Instead of a physical
container to house the spirit on the mortal plane, they separated a small pocket of the spirit plane
and anchored it to a specific place in the mortal world so that the soul would neither wither nor
move on and could thus be re-inserted in five years’ time.” Again, the shaman’s voice had trailed
off, and for a moment, Tony worried the older man would sink into another trance. He was
relieved when only a moment passed before Sani met his eyes, a wry twist to the shaman’s lips.
“You and I are sitting in that very same pocket of the spirit plane,” Sani said, gesturing to the
woods around them. “You see, I volunteered to be the níłchʼi’s vessel, as much of my and my
grandmother’s magic had gone into weaving this place, which would grant me additional strength
and protection during my, let’s say, exile.” His mouth quirked in a smile, but it was empty of
humor. “The níłchʼi was quite angry when it learned that it would actually have to return its body
after the five years were up. As soon as it had taken possession of my body, it attacked and during
the fight, the connection between my world and this pocket one were severed, and I was cast far
away, falling between universes.” The shaman nodded towards Tony. “When I finally stopped, I
found my tiny universe attached to yours.”

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