The Tower had gone still.
After hours of chaos, the halls of glass and steel finally felt like they could breathe again. The med bay was no longer freezing, no longer echoing with alarms just the soft, low hum of containment magic.
Tony paused in the doorway of the guest suite, watching Stephen sleep. The Cloak of Levitation hovered protectively at the bedside, its edges twitching whenever Strange stirred.
"Keep him out of trouble," Tony whispered. "That's my job, but I'm officially clocking out."
The Cloak gave a faint wave, as if accepting the assignment.
Tony turned and made his way down the quiet corridor toward his own floor. His shoulders were heavy, but his steps were steady. The adrenaline was gone; all that was left was exhaustion and a hollow ache that felt far too familiar.
"Friday," he murmured.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Status report."
"The Casket's energy output remains stable," she said softly. "Temperature normalized. Loki's vitals are steady within… unusual parameters."
Tony gave a tired half-smile. "Unusual's our brand. Keep it that way."
When he entered his suite, he didn't even bother turning on the lights. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed his eyes, and sighed. "Wake me if anything changes Loki, Stephen, world ending, take your pick."
"Understood, Boss."
He leaned back, meaning to just rest his eyes, but sleep took him before he could even exhale.
The Tower dimmed, lights shifting into their nocturnal cycle. The only sound left was the faint buzz of the arc reactor in the walls and the whisper of movement from the floor below.
In the med bay, Vision stood silently beside the Casket of Ancient Winters. His eyes glowed faint gold, reflections of the seidr pulsing through the crystalline surface.
He didn't need rest. He didn't want it.
Tony had stayed long enough. Now it was his turn.
"Rest easy, Sir," Vision said quietly, almost to himself. "I'll keep watch."
The Casket answered with a soft pulse, like a heartbeat echoing through ice. Vision tilted his head slightly, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face.
"Good," he murmured. "He's still fighting."
He stood there through the night motionless, patient, a guardian of frost and light while above them, Tony Stark finally slept.