[Stephen doesn’t move as Tony rises to his feet, as if keeping himself planted runs parallel with his resolution on the matter — they did what was necessary. They all did, for the sake of protecting half of Earth’s population, half of life in all the universe, and sacrifices needed to be made, however difficult they’d be to endure.

Yet he could not account for everything: a summoning ritual that acted as a multiversal kidnapping spree, forcing Stark to exist on impossibly borrowed time. Unfair, asking too much of someone who’s already given everything. And the good doctor is not a complete utilitarian like he’d have many believe, despite how staunchly he stands in the face of Tony’s indignity. The humanitarian in him—that very real part that drew him into a medical profession to start, before it got all muddled up with pride and prestige—blisters at that latched-on jab.

An invisible millstone of guilt, weighed around his neck. Maybe that’s what he wanted to avoid from the start, from the moment he saw him again.]

I’m not here to fight with you. And I’m not here to ask anything of you, either.

[Not yet, anyway. The situation needs to cool off. Stephen needs to understand more about what’s happening.]

But you must’ve been told about the situation when you arrived, same as anyone. You’re just going to ignore everything about the Singularity and what it could mean for this world? For every world out there?