Curiosity Killed the Cat...

The cave grew colder at night, the damp air settling into Stephen's fur as he perched on a ledge, watching Tony and Yinsen work. For days, he had observed them in silence, his eyes tracking their every movement as they pieced together the gray monstrosity that would one day become the prototype for the Iron Man suit.

It was crude, bulky, and unpolished—so unlike the sleek red-and-gold suits Stephen had seen in his own universe. But even in its raw form, it radiated potential. Every weld, every bolt, every wire brought it closer to completion, and with each passing hour, the timeline grew heavier, the threads of fate converging around this moment. Stephen could feel it in his bones. This was a turning point, the spark that would ignite a fire that would burn across the multiverse.

And yet, for all their genius, for all their determination, Tony and Yinsen were flying blind. Their conversations were clipped, tense, and peppered with uncertainty. Yinsen had a basic understanding of the compound's layout, but it was patchy at best, and Tony's frustration was beginning to show.

"We can't just wing it," Tony snapped one evening, pacing the cave with restless energy. "We need a plan. A real plan."

Yinsen sat cross-legged on the ground, the rough map they had scratched into the dirt spread out before him. "This is all we have, Stark. Unless you can pull a satellite out of thin air, we're stuck with guesswork."

Stephen's ears twitched as he watched them, their voices echoing faintly in the cavern. The map was laughably incomplete—a series of rough lines and dots representing the parts of the compound Yinsen had seen during his captivity. It wasn't nearly enough to plan an escape, let alone an attack.

Tony crouched beside Yinsen, jabbing a finger at the map. "We need to hit the weapons cache first. Take out their firepower before they can use it against us."

Yinsen frowned. "And where do you think that is?"

Tony didn't answer. He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. Yinsen sighed, his gaze dropping to the map as silence stretched between them.

From his perch, Stephen felt the familiar twist of guilt in his chest. He had promised himself he wouldn't interfere, but this… this wasn't interference, was it? This was survival. If Tony and Yinsen went in blind, they wouldn't stand a chance. Stephen knew the compound better than anyone now—every outpost, every weapons cache, every guard rotation. He hadn't meant to memorize it, but his eidetic memory refused to let anything slip.

He sighed internally, his tail flicking with irritation. Damn it.

With a graceful leap, he descended from his ledge, landing softly on the ground near the map. Both men froze, their heads snapping toward him. Tony narrowed his eyes, his expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement.

"Great," he muttered. "The cat's back. Here to supervise?"

Stephen ignored him. Instead, he padded over to the map, his blue eyes scanning the crude lines and markings. He crouched low, pretending to examine it like a curious animal, and then, with deliberate slowness, he extended a paw.

He tapped the dirt once, near the western edge of the compound.

Yinsen blinked. "What's he doing?"

"Being a cat?" Tony offered, though there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

Stephen tapped the map again, harder this time, his paw leaving a faint imprint in the dirt. Then he looked up at them, his gaze sharp and expectant.

Yinsen leaned closer, his brow furrowing. "He's pointing to something."

Tony rolled his eyes. "It's a cat. It doesn't know what it's—"

Stephen hissed softly, cutting him off. He tapped the map a third time, then moved his paw slightly, tracing a rough path toward the center of the compound. When he was done, he sat back on his haunches, his tail curling neatly around his paws as he stared at them.

Yinsen exchanged a look with Tony. "You don't think…?"

"No," Tony said flatly. "There's no way. It's just a stray that wandered in. It's not—"

Yinsen interrupted him, his voice cautious. "Stark. Look at the map."

Tony sighed but leaned forward, his gaze following the line Stephen had traced with his paw. His expression shifted, the skepticism giving way to something more thoughtful. "The western side… That's where the guards unload the trucks. If they're storing weapons anywhere, it's probably close to there."

Stephen allowed himself a small, smug purr. Finally.

Yinsen nodded slowly, his finger tracing the path Stephen had indicated. "If we move this way, we could avoid most of the guards. It's risky, but it's better than nothing."

Tony stared at the map for a moment longer before shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm taking tactical advice from a cat."

Stephen meowed softly, his tone almost mocking, and Tony shot him a look. "Don't get cocky."

.

Over the next few hours, Tony and Yinsen refined their plan, using the information Stephen provided to map out their escape route. Stephen stayed close, occasionally nudging the map with his paw or tapping at areas they overlooked. He never revealed his true nature, never spoke a word, but his actions were deliberate enough to convince Yinsen—and, begrudgingly, Tony—that he was more than just a stray.

"I don't know what's weirder," Tony said at one point, rubbing his temples. "The fact that we're taking advice from a cat, or the fact that it's actually good advice."

Yinsen chuckled. "Perhaps he's a guardian spirit, sent to protect us in our time of need."

Tony snorted. "If this is what a guardian spirit looks like, we're screwed."

Stephen ignored their banter, his attention focused on the map. He knew he was crossing a line by helping them, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. The Ancient One had said he needed time to rest, but how could he rest knowing that this moment—this pivotal, timeline-defining moment—might fail if he didn't act?

He would help them escape. That was all. Once they were out, once the suit was complete and the timeline was back on track, he would step back. He would let the universe take its course, and he would disappear into the shadows once more.

At least, that's what he told himself.

.

As dawn broke over the desert, Tony and Yinsen stood at the edge of the cave, their makeshift suit nearly complete and their plan finalized. Stephen watched from his usual perch, his eyes tracking their movements as they prepared for the final stage of their escape.

Tony glanced back at him, his expression unreadable. "If we make it out of this alive, I'm getting you a lifetime supply of cat food."

Stephen blinked slowly, his version of an unimpressed stare, and Tony shook his head with a smirk. "Figures."

Yinsen, ever the optimist, gave Stephen a small bow. "Thank you, little one. Whatever you are."

Stephen said nothing. He simply watched, his tail flicking lazily as the two men stepped into the unknown.

Whatever I am, he thought, I'm still a watcher.

For now.

.

The compound was on high alert as the guards were scrambling to open the closed door. Shouts echoed across the desert as men armed with rifles ran toward the source of the chaos: the sealed door of the cave that had served as Tony Stark and Yinsen's prison.

Stephen watched from the shadows, his sleek black form pressed low against the ground. His eyes tracked every movement, his sharp ears picking up the frantic orders barked between the guards. Something had gone wrong—or perhaps, right. The door to the cave wasn't opening, and the guards were growing more agitated by the second.

"They've locked themselves in," one of the men growled, slamming his fist against the heavy metal door. "Get the explosives!"

Another guard cursed under his breath as he waved a small group toward the armory. "If they think they can just sit in there and wait us out, they've got another thing coming. Blow it open."

Stephen's tail flicked in irritation. He knew Tony and Yinsen must have anticipated this. They'd had days to prepare, days to plan their escape, and yet the situation was already slipping out of control. The timeline had never felt this fragile before, the threads of fate trembling with every passing second.

The guards returned quickly, carrying a bundle of explosives that they affixed to the door with practiced efficiency. Stephen tensed, his body coiled and ready to spring, but he forced himself to stay hidden. 

He couldn't interfere. 

He repeated that to himself as he saw Yinsen throwing a makeshift grenade through the small window in the door, making the explosives their capturers brought go off early.

The explosion came with a deafening roar, the force of it throwing several guards backward as the door blasted inward. Smoke and debris filled the air, obscuring the entrance to the cave, and for a moment, the guards hesitated, their rifles trained on the gaping hole where the door had been.

And then Yinsen stepped out.

Stephen's heart sank as he saw the older man emerge from the smoke, a rifle clutched tightly in his trembling hands. Yinsen wasn't a soldier—his movements were awkward, his grip unsteady—but his eyes burned with determination. He had grabbed the gun from one of the fallen guards near the door, his expression set in grim resignation. He knew what he was doing. He knew what this meant.

Behind him, Stephen could make out the faint silhouette of the Iron Man suit, still stationary, its systems powering up with a soft hum. Tony was inside, but the suit wasn't ready yet. It couldn't move, couldn't fight, and Yinsen knew it.

"He's buying time," Stephen realized, his voice a low growl in his mind. His claws dug into the dirt as he watched Yinsen raise the rifle, his shoulders squared and his stance firm. The guards hesitated, clearly not expecting resistance, but their hesitation wouldn't last.

Stephen's mind raced. He could see the cracks in the timeline, the threads fraying under the weight of this moment. Yinsen wasn't supposed to survive this. He was supposed to die here, giving Tony the chance he needed to escape. But as Stephen watched the older man fire a shaky volley of shots at the approaching guards, his memories flooded with images of Yinsen's kindness—the way he had always tried to share his meager rations, the quiet compassion in his gaze.

He doesn't deserve this, Stephen thought. Not like this.

But he hesitated, his heart pounding as guilt and reason warred within him. He knew what was supposed to happen. He knew what was meant to happen. If he interfered, if he saved Yinsen, it would change everything. Tony's escape would become harder, more complicated, more dangerous.

And it would be Stephen's fault.

The guards began to regroup, their confidence returning as they realized Yinsen was alone. They moved closer, firing sporadically, their bullets ricocheting off the walls of the cave. Yinsen pressed himself against the doorframe, reloading clumsily, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

Stephen's resolve shattered.

Damn it all.

Stephen moved before he could stop himself, his sleek black form darting through the chaos. He transformed mid-leap, his small body elongating and expanding, his fur darkening into a deeper, midnight black. When he landed, it was on powerful paws, his panther form rippling with muscle and shadow. The transformation was seamless, his magic weaving through him like a second skin, and for a moment, he felt invincible.

The guards didn't notice him at first, too focused on Yinsen to register the predator stalking through the smoke. But when Stephen sprang into action, they had no choice but to turn their attention. He leaped onto the nearest guard, his claws slicing through armor and flesh with ease. The man fell with a cry, and Stephen roared, the sound deep and guttural, echoing through the compound like thunder.

The distraction worked. The guards turned their weapons on him, shouting in confusion and fear as the panther tore through their ranks. Stephen moved with precision, his magic enhancing his speed and strength as he took down one enemy after another. He avoided killing whenever possible, opting instead to incapacitate them, but the chaos he created was enough to buy Yinsen precious time.

"Go!" Stephen growled, his voice low and gravelly, directed at Yinsen as he crouched low, ready to pounce again.

Yinsen froze for a moment, his wide eyes locking onto the panther. Stephen could see the disbelief in his gaze, the dawning realization that this was no ordinary animal. But Yinsen didn't argue. He nodded, clutching his rifle tightly as he turned and ran toward the far side of the compound.

.

It wasn't until the guards were either incapacitated or too afraid to approach that Stephen allowed himself to pause. His chest heaved as he stood amidst the wreckage, his black fur slick with sweat and dust. He turned his head toward the entrance of the compound, expecting to see Tony's suit barreling through the gates as it had in his own timeline.

But Tony wasn't there.

Stephen's heart sank as he realized why. Yinsen was alive, which meant Tony hadn't left. Of course, he hadn't. The man who would one day become Iron Man wasn't the type to abandon someone who had risked everything for him.

Sure enough, Stephen spotted them near the cave entrance—Tony struggling to drag Yinsen along as the older man limped, his injuries slowing them both down. The suit was damaged, its left arm hanging uselessly at Tony's side, and the guards were regrouping, their shouts growing louder as reinforcements poured in from the far side of the compound.

"This is a mess," Stephen muttered under his breath, his panther form shimmering briefly as he considered shifting back into a human. He dismissed the idea almost immediately. Too much to explain.

Instead, he bolted toward them, his powerful legs propelling him across the compound in a blur of black fur. Tony noticed him first, his eyes widening behind the crude metal of his helmet. He raised his functional arm, the flamethrower mounted there sparking to life.

"Stark, no!" Yinsen shouted, grabbing Tony's arm before he could fire. "It's him! The cat!"

"The what?" Tony snapped, but he lowered his arm, his gaze flicking between Yinsen and the panther now standing protectively in front of them. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Stephen didn't have time to explain—or growl his annoyance. He crouched low, his sharp eyes scanning the compound as the guards began to advance. The situation was spiraling out of control, and it was all his fault. If he hadn't saved Yinsen, Tony would have already escaped. The guilt twisted in his chest, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the problem at hand.

"Stay close to me," Stephen said, his voice low and commanding. He didn't know if they could understand him in this form, but it didn't matter. His actions would speak louder than words.

Tony stared at him for a beat, then shook his head as if trying to process what was happening. "You know what? Fine. I'm taking orders from a panther now. Why not?"