Chapter 37 – Part 3: Damage Control (Tony Stark Edition)8:07 A.M. – Stark Tower Penthouse
Tony Stark, billionaire, genius, playboy and philanthropist
was asleep.
Absolutely unconscious.
Face half-buried in a pillow like a man who had successfully outrun consequences and intended to enjoy every stolen second of it.
For exactly two hours.
No nightmares.No alarms.No explosions.
Just silence.
The kind of silence you only got after handing four teenagers to a sorcerer and fleeing the scene like a morally compromised gazelle.
10:02 A.M.
Tony woke like a system reboot.
Slow first.
Then all at once.
Eyes open.Brain online.Existential dread pending.
He stared at the ceiling for a second.
"Okay," he muttered. "Functional human mode."
A beat.
"Version 3.2. Still glitchy, but less haunted."
He sat up, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and swung his feet onto the floor with the air of a man returning to battle.
Or paperwork.
Which, honestly, was worse.
He dragged on a shirt and headed for the kitchen.
The fridge opened.
Inside:
Order.
Containers.
Labels.
Of course.
Stephen Strange didn't make breakfast. He staged evidence.
Tony pulled one out and squinted at it suspiciously.
"Hey, baby girl," he called, "what are the odds Merlin poisoned my breakfast out of spite?"
Friday answered at once.
"Unfortunate news, sir. The food has not been tampered with. Though based on Doctor Strange's expression when he placed it in the refrigerator, I would recommend preparing for future retaliation."
Tony paused.
Then grinned.
Big. Bright. Entirely unrepentant.
"Oh, it was worth it."
He leaned against the counter, already eating.
And yes, okay, fine.
He knew.
He knew he should've stayed.
Should've helped with discipline, responsibility, emotional scaffolding, whatever parenting blog language applied to four super-genius chaos goblins and one sorcerer running on caffeine and cosmic trauma.
He should have been the adult.
But then there had been Peter's face.
And Stephen's face.
That exact, perfect, frozen second when they both realized what he was about to do.
Tony pointed his fork at the middle distance, laughing under his breath.
"Come on," he said. "You saw it too. That was comedy. High art. Museum-grade."
Friday, loyal as ever, stayed diplomatic.
"I recorded the moment, sir."
Tony lit up.
"You're my favorite."
"That designation changes frequently."
"Still counts."
He polished off breakfast, set the container down, and rolled his shoulders.
"Alright. Hit me. What fresh administrative hellscape am I pretending to be excited about today?"
Friday did not hesitate.
"Miss Potts has scheduled your legal meeting regarding inheritance division."
Tony stopped dead.
"…No."
"You have postponed it three times."
"I was curating suspense."
"You were creating legal exposure."
Tony dragged a hand down his face.
"Pepper's weaponized paperwork. I always knew this day would come."
"It is, in fact, personal."
He pointed vaguely at the ceiling.
"Rude. What else?"
"R&D strategy meeting at 1100 hours."
That got his attention back.
"See, now we're speaking my love language."
He wandered toward the window, coffee-less and still offended by that fact.
New York stretched below him.
Alive. Loud. Moving.
Normal, if you ignored the usual apocalypse seasoning.
"Four kids," he murmured. "One wizard. What could possibly go wrong?"
Friday paused.
"Would you like the short list or the comprehensive report?"
Tony smirked.
"Pass. I choose ignorance. It's the closest thing to vacation I get."
Preparation Mode, Unfortunately
He straightened his shirt, grabbed his jacket, and started for the lab.
"Get me Vision," Tony said. "If I have to sit through meetings, I want at least one life-form there who won't say 'synergy' unironically."
"Connecting shortly."
Tony reached the door, then paused.
Just for a second.
A thought flickered.
Stephen.The kids.That look on Strange's face this morning.
Tony shoved it aside before it could settle.
"They'll be fine," he said, mostly to himself.
Friday didn't answer.
Which, frankly, was not reassuring.
Incoming Storm
"Sir," Friday said after a beat, "Thor has confirmed his arrival for 1600 hours."
Tony nodded once, already moving again.
"Good."
A pause.
Not hesitation.
Calculation.
Friday continued, a little more carefully this time.
"Would you like me to prepare a briefing for his arrival?"
Tony slowed.
Only slightly.
His reflection in the glass looked sharper now. More awake. Less amused.
"…No," he said.
"I'll handle this one."
Because how exactly did you brief someone on that?
Hey, your brother, the one who invaded Earth, faked his death, survived impossible odds, and then nearly died for real? Great news. He's downstairs in my building, unconscious and healing inside magical frost tech. Please don't put a hammer through my walls.
Tony exhaled through his nose.
Ran a hand over his mouth.
"…What's his condition?"
"Stable," Friday replied. "Regeneration continues at an accelerated rate. He remains unconscious, but all vitals are holding."
Tony nodded once.
Of course Loki was doing this dramatically.
Anything less would've been off-brand.
"He awake at all?"
"No, sir. Not yet."
"Fantastic," Tony muttered. "Would've hated for this to be emotionally manageable."
"Sir?"
"Nothing."
He adjusted his jacket, but his focus had already shifted.
Not to R&D.Not to legal.Not even to Vision.
To 4 P.M.
To Thor.
To the conversation waiting like a live grenade with family trauma taped to the side.
Because Thor wasn't walking into a fight.
He was walking into hope.
And hope, in Tony's experience, was usually the part right before everything exploded.
"…Prep the med bay," Tony said after a moment. "And keep security light."
"Light, sir?"
Tony glanced toward the elevator.
"Last thing I need is Thor taking one look around and deciding we've turned his brother into a hostage."
A beat.
"…We didn't, right?"
"Doctor Strange placed containment wards."
Tony winced.
"Of course he did. Because apparently nobody in this building knows how to do subtle."
Another problem for later.
Add it to the list.
Somewhere under inheritance meeting and above do not get smited by an emotionally compromised Asgardian.
Tony squared his shoulders and slipped fully back into motion.
"Alright," he said, voice steadier now. "Let's survive the morning first."
Because by the afternoon, everything was going to change.