"I had forgotten..."

In the days and weeks to follow, Stephen settled easily into his new life, until the morning when the menagerie of memories, voices, stories and songs finally overwhelmed him. He tried to hide it from Tony and Pepper, claiming a headache, then retired to their room, hoping darkness and silence would help him to reorganize the chaos and ease the pain.

Pepper rolled her eyes at Tony and he sighed, then left the kitchen, carrying a cup of tea. He knocked lightly at their bedroom door and at a whispered, "yes?" Tony entered the room, and set the tea on the bedside table. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Stephen's sweat drenched curls, then leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"You aren't alone, Stephen. I know what is going on inside you, how you are trying to untangle the mess in that beautiful mind of yours, it must be exhausting, I know it is. For so long you have closed off that part of yourself, and now -"

"I had forgotten. My grandfather -" Stephen whimpered as Tony got up from the bed.

"Shhh, I'm here." Tony undressed and slipped into bed next to him, then settled him against his shoulder and waited for Stephen's breathing to even out again. "Your grandfather was the storyteller, he helped you keep the stories, no one else understood you, they thought -"

"They thought I was an idiot. I didn't speak until I was four, but I knew -" he sighed as Tony's fingers were in his hair again, and the ache in his head began to ease. "I knew twelve languages, half of them dead, just knew them, it took me time to learn how to untangle them all, only my grandfather understood, and he was able to -" he sat up then, and watched as Tony opened his eyes and smiled gently at him. "He turned all of my pasts into stories, so I could, I suppose, process them all? He told me that I was unusual. Most of our kind aren't born, we become, but because both of my parents were witches, I was born with the memories of the ones who came before -"

He stopped speaking and Tony reached up to touch his face and he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch and was silent for a few minutes. "When my grandfather died, I was fourteen. There was no one left - my parents - they had disappeared before I was old enough to know them, I still don't know what happened to them. I chose to give up the stories. I decided I could pass as human, and I did, barely." He chuckled darkly and tried to fight the hot tears that slid down his face. "I didn't allow myself to feel anything - I threw myself into school, my foster parents adored me, I never was any trouble as I spent all my time studying and working until I got into college, then med school - I was fine. I thought I was fine until the morning I saw your face."

"I'm here, Stephen." Tony sat up and kissed his tears away then looked into the exhausted eyes. "Just let go, love. Let me help you, as you've helped me."

Stephen snorted and turned away from him. "You don't know me, I don't even know who I am anymore - I have all this -" he pressed his hands to his head and whimpered as another wave of pain washed over him. "I can't think anymore -" His words faded as Tony placed his hands over his and began telling him one of the old stories he had all but forgotten.

"How?" Stephen asked as he settled back into Tony's arms and tried to keep his eyes open in spite of the pain.

"Shhh... just close your eyes, and listen."