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“Stephen? America?”
You looked around, puzzled. Just moments before, you and Wong and Stephen had been defending America Chavez from Wanda, who longed for her powers. Wanda had almost gotten it, and as soon as the portal appeared behind America, at the same moment Stephen and you had jumped for America to save her. And suddenly you felt as if you were being pulled away, away from this world, and there were only flashes of light before you hit the ground. You had no idea what had happened, and where Stephen and America had gone.
You sat up slowly, a chill running down your spine as your eyes fell on the ruined buildings. I'm in another universe, you thought, terrified. It seemed as if this world was dying. And maybe it was true. It was dark and quiet, sad and colorless.
You stood up. You had to find your way home somehow. You had to find Stephen and America. But how? You had no idea how many other worlds there were, and how the hell were you supposed to find out in which one the two of them should be. And what about Wong? Was he alone with Wanda? What if something happened to him? You hoped Wanda wouldn't hurt him, but the truth was you couldn't be sure. This wasn't the Wanda you'd known.
You had to find the sanctum, and you had to get back somehow. It would be wiser to go back to Wong than to blindly look for Stephen and America. You could be lost in the multiverse, and you really didn't want to be.
So you took the familiar but also the unknown route toward the sanctum. Snowflakes spun in the wind, and you looked around warily. It was as if whole chunks were peeling off the buildings, turning to black shreds and climbing skyward. You shuddered as you realized you'd never met a living soul in all this time there, hadn't heard a human voice, and you wanted to hear a laugh so you wouldn't feel so alone here. Had they all died here? But why? What had happened to this world?
Questions you didn't know the answer to had plagued you in the sanctum. You were relieved to finally see the familiar building. When it was finally in sight, you suddenly realized that the closer you were to the building, the more empty it was around. Suddenly it was as if only you and the sanctum existed.
Your heart was pounding in your throat as you slowly climbed the stairs. Before you could raise your hand, the door swung open before you, revealing a black sandy beach and a high staircase that led up to the second floor. With your throat clenched, you stepped inside and winced as the door slammed shut behind you. As if there was no going back. You took a deep breath and headed for the stairs. The silence was uncomfortably unbearable, broken only by the splash of water as you stepped into the puddle. Everything in this world made you anxious.
As you climbed the first few steps, you found out where all the water was coming from. Below the stairs, where the floor and walls were to continue, was an endless lake, a sea, an ocean. The door leading into the sanctum seemed to be only an imaginary gateway to a world you didn't understand. The stairs seemed to lead to heaven, so it seemed to you as you walked slowly forward, the mist swirling around you. You dared to look down and your head spun. You swallowed, trying to fight off nausea, and practically ran up the last few steps when you found a normal, enclosed room at the end.
You stood for a moment on the threshold of the door, looking around the room. There were a lot of things here, dusty and carelessly scattered as if they had not been used for a long time. And perhaps no one had lived here. Light poured in from outside, and you found that there were no windows and a whole wall. For a moment you watched the slow swirl that engulfed bits of this world. Then you looked away from the scene and cautiously began to walk around the room. As you walked, you examined the objects that lay there untouched, and then you came upon a piano on which lay faded pages of notes. You recognized some of the pieces, though you had not played the piano in so many years. Your fingers touched the white key experimentally, and as a musical note spread through the gloomy room, your heart fluttered with happiness, and your shoulders sagged with relief. Your fingers stroked the keys before you began to play slowly, softly, carefully, gradually gaining confidence. You put the faded page on the piano lid so that you could play with your left hand. Your fingers never forget, they moved swiftly on the keys, and a sweet melody flowed around you, clutching you in a warm embrace, your eyes and gave in completely to the music, letting it engulf you, soon calming your mind and taking you to another world.
Until a familiar voice echoed across the room.
"It's been a long time since I heard you play the piano."
Your fingers stopped above the keys, the music stopped, and your breath caught in your throat. You remained frozen for a moment, then slowly turned in the direction from which the voice had come. Your heart fluttered. He's here! He's found you!
"Stephen?" you breathed and walked toward the next staircase, where a tall male figure stood in the shadows.
"Y/N," he said, with a strange pain in his voice that puzzled you. Then at last he came down a flight of stairs, and a bright light shone on his face. You gasped. This was not your Stephen. His eyes were dead, dark, his beard was longer, as was his hair, and two black streaks fell to his eyes. And his cloak was missing. Slowly he descended the stairs toward you, his eyes never leaving you. You felt as if his gaze had pinned you where you stood, unable to move, and could only watch him approach you. "Y/N," he repeated your name in a hoarse voice and raised his hand to stroke your cheek. You shivered as you felt his touch. It was Stephen Strange, of course, you were amazed by him, but at the same time... at the same time, there was something about him that frightened you. "I never dared hope to see you again. And here you are, charming as always."
"I... I guess I'm not who you think I am," you stammered, trembling. A deep crease appeared between Stephen's brows, and he cocked his head to one side. "I'm not... I'm not from your world."
"It doesn't matter. It's still you. In every world, it's you," he breathed, cupping your face in his hands. "You came to me. I summoned you, and you came, alive and real. You came to save me from that awful solitude, as I wished. You came to make me happy.”
“Stephen, what happened here?” you whispered, caught in his hungry gaze. Stephen from your world had never looked at you that way. And you longed for it. You longed for him to love you, as you loved him. But he loved Christine. “What happened to you?”
His thumbs stroked your cheeks. “It doesn’t matter, darling,” he purred. You felt dizzy. “It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is you, and that you’re finally here. You don’t know how much I’ve longed for this moment, Y/N.”
“But... but what about Christine?” you asked blankly. “It was always Christine you—”
He laughed coarsely. “So your Stephen is still crazy about Dr. Palmer, is he?” You nodded weakly. “That idiot. Surely Christine is no match for you. But even I was stupid, blinded. I didn’t know what I had next to me, what I had in you until I lost you.” He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. “But I won’t let that happen again. The universe gave me a second chance when it brought you here. I will not let somebody take you from me again, Y/N,” he said, bending down to kiss you at last.
The kiss was intoxicating, deep, and hot. Stephen claimed your mouth, holding you to him as if he would never let go again, and you returned the kisses, enchanted. You dared not dream of this moment, and suddenly your wish came true. Stephen hugged you, and Stephen kissed you. Stephen loved you. Tears slid down your cheeks.
“What’s the matter?” Stephen asked you gently, feeling your hot tears on the balls of his fingers. He stopped kissing you and drew back slightly from you as he watched you solicitously. His solicitude almost touched you.
“It’s all right, it’s just... I still don’t understand all this,” you stammered in confusion and closed your eyes as he began to gently wipe away your tears.
“I’ll explain,” he told you, offering you the hand you accepted. He gently clasped it between his thick warm fingers and led you to a small sofa near the piano. Then he pulled up a chair in front of you and reached again for your hands, which he clasped in his and kissed them. "Ask anything you want, and I'll try to answer. We have as much time as we want." He smiled slightly.
You thought. Where should you start? What was the first thing you wanted to ask? "What happened to your world? What happened to me? Christine?"
He laughed softly. "You were always straight to the point. All right. I was... I was invited to Christine's wedding. She married another man, of course." You longed to pull away. You knew this. Even your Stephen... well, Stephen from your world, had been invited to Dr. Palmer's wedding. "She asked me if I was happy. I told her of course I was happy. But that was a lie. I wasn't happy, I was stupidly in love with Christine, even though she'd started dating the man years ago. But I was still stuck in the past, stupid. You... well, Y/N from my world, always tried to comfort me and help me. But I was blind, I only wanted Christine, even though I was loved by a woman I, too, liked, I just wasn’t able to realize it in time. I kept hoping I could change that, so I sought out the Darkhold.” You tensed. “I knew a little about the multiverse, so I tried to use Darkhold to find out if there was even a version of me... of us that would really be with Christine. But I couldn’t find one. Tormented and furious, mad with the platonic love, I tried to go further, and the Darkhold took its toll. You tried to stop me, you saw me suffer and change before your eyes, but I... I had my head. You decided to destroy the Darkhold. Before I could stop you from doing that... you died. And a part of me died with you. It wasn’t until late that I realized what I had in you. What I’d missed. And I realized that the woman who belonged to me wasn’t Christine, but you. It was always you.”
You were speechless. You watched Stephen, seated before you, leaning toward you, holding your hands and lowering his gaze so that you could not see in his eyes the pain that had been his long and only companion for many years. “Stephen,” you whispered his name, pulling one hand from his grip and slowly stroking his face. Exhaling, he leaned into your palm and closed his eyes. “You are probably the first Stephen who thinks I belong to him and not Christine,” you said with a sad smile. “You told me you summoned me. How?”
“By the Darkhold, I think. Yes, you destroyed it,” he confirmed again, as you frowned uncomprehendingly, “but it was just a copy. A few days after you died I thought, remembering the past, our relationship, looking at things from a different perspective. And it was only then that I realized: that the woman of my life was you. First I lost Christine, who never wanted me again after that. And then I lost you, who loved me despite everything I did, how I treated you.” He covered your hand on his face with his own and pressed a brief kiss into your palm. "I refused to accept that I had lost again the woman I loved. I decided to fight, so I began to find ways to bring you back. And so I found the original Darkhold on Mount Wundagore. Part of me knew you would disapprove of my actions, you died only to rescue me from the darkness. But I needed you, I needed you back. I need you now," he whispered desperately, looking deep into your eyes.
You watched him sadly, your thumb stroking his cheek. "So you continued to read the Darkhold and... and you found that the only way to bring me back was to kidnap me from another world?"
He smiled. "Kidnap you? You came voluntarily, my love." Then he took your hand from his face and stood. He walked slowly, his arms folded behind him, to the window. You watched him. "I tried to reach you. I hoped you would appear one day. I don't know how it happened... but you appeared. And it was probably meant to be. At the same time... I won't keep you here, I know I have no right. You don't belong in my world, my world is cruel and dark and gloomy. I can't ask you to stay in it with me when you can live a happy life in your world-"
"Stephen," you said his name with a strange urgency, and he stopped where he was. You stood and walked to him and stood in front of him. When your fingers tightened around his upper arm, he looked down at you and gently took your face in his hands.
"My love," he said in a gentle voice that held so much despair and pain. "It was wonderful to be able to see you again. To touch you again. To find out what your kisses taste like." He brushed a strand of hair from your face. "But as I say, I can't ask you to do this. You can turn around right now and go home. And I'll only dream of you every night. What was mine for a while, what could have been mine," he muttered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on yours. "Because why should you stay here with me?"
"Because I love you," you replied, almost a sob. "I love you, and I can't live without you. I have no way to go home, Stephen. And there's nothing really keeping me there," you told him, tears sliding down your cheeks. Even so, your heart sank as you realized what you were leaving, what you were giving up. But you had never had many friends, and the only person you cared about the most in all the world was Stephen. And he didn't want you.
Strange exhaled and opened his eyes. "Would you want to stay here? Would you give up everything? For me?"
Your eyes were clouded. Through a veil of tears, you smiled and nodded. "If it means I can finally be with you, yes."
"Y/N, oh Y/N," he murmured as he held you close. You felt his strong hands on your back and buried your face in his firm chest, inhaling his scent. "You don't know how much this means to me. How happy I am that you are finally mine. Only mine, my love. But will you really be happy here?"
"Of course, I will. I'm here with you," you told him, smiling as you felt a kiss on your hair.
"I promise I'll make it up to you. That I'll do everything I can to make you the happiest woman in the entire multiverse," he said. You looked up at him and laughed. And when you saw Stephen's face brighten, your heart nearly burst with love. "I've missed you, I've missed you so much," he murmured before he bent down and began to cover your face with kisses. You ran your fingers through his hair and stroked it before slowly sliding down to the back of his neck. As his lips traveled to your neck, you tilted your head to one side, and a sigh of delight escaped your mouth. "So sweet," he murmured against your skin before squeezing it gently between his teeth. His hands wandered over your body, and his kisses slid down your throat. "I need you right now," he said in a hoarse voice that woke a flock of butterflies in your belly.
"Then take me," you moaned. "I'm all yours," you surrendered to him. He left your neck, only to be able to press himself to your lips in another moment. He kissed you long and deeply before he lifted you into his arms and a familiar sparkle appeared in his eyes.
You laughed and clung tightly to his shoulders as he walked with you toward the stairs that led to his bedroom. "So eager," you teased.
"Darling, I've been waiting for this for so long."
─｡ﾟ۞: *.🌌.* :۞ﾟ. ─
You had no idea how long you had been in this world. It could have been mere hours, or even days, weeks, or even months. It felt as if time had passed differently here. There was no sunrise, there was never darkness outside the windows, there was simply a different order. And everything seemed to be slower. Even your relationship with Stephen was slow, but that was what you liked about it. You enjoyed each other and were in no hurry, because, as Stephen said, you had plenty of time.
You woke up in the big double bed and looked at the other half where Stephen had lain. It was no surprise to you that his half of the bed was already empty and cold and made up, he always got up early, and you, unlike him, loved to sleep. You mostly found him downstairs, where he used to sit at the table and read long books. At other times he would follow you back to bed, lie down beside you, hug you and cuddle you. It was like he was making up for all the years you had been in love with your Stephen, but you couldn't be with him.
Exhaling, you stretched and sat up. You reached for the satin robe you had draped over the bed and put it on. Then you went barefoot to the stairs, eager to snuggle up to Stephen and get a good-morning kiss from him.
But as you slowly started down the stairs, you realized that something was different here. First of all, you heard voices. It was strange in itself, the building was quiet because there was no one here but the two of you. In all this world, there was no one but you. You paused at the top of the stairs close enough to hear what the voices were saying, but far enough away so that no one could see you.
“...I never meant for any of this to happen,” you heard Stephen say. You frowned slightly. What's he talking about? And most of all... who is he talking to? “I was looking for a world where things were different. Where I had Christine. Where I was happy." Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart constricted. Christine...? "But I didn't find it. All I found were more of us. So I did those Stephens a favor. You ever had that dream where you are falling as if you've been pushed off a tall building? That was probably me." The room darkened, and a sound like rocks falling off a cliff reached yours ears. You gripped the railing tightly, trying to make sense in your confused mind of what all this meant, what was happening.
"The Darkhold exacts a heavy toll." The Darkhold?! What was he talking about? The Darkhold had destroyed Y/N out of this world!
"Okay. All the more reason to give it a rest and let me have it," Stephen said. You stopped. This didn't make sense. Stephen wasn't talking to himself. Why would he be talking to himself, how...? Your head spun, and you tried to get down the stairs as fast as you could, to find out what all this meant.
"Here's the deal. I'll let you use the Darkhold if you give me your Christine," Stephen said darkly.
You couldn't take it anymore. "Stephen!" you cried, your eyes searching the dark room as you quickly descended the stairs. And then you stopped when you found that there was... another Stephen in addition to your Stephen. You gasped. The new Stephen looked just like the one from your world. And then you sighed. It was starting to make sense to you. Stephen from your world had somehow gotten the Darkhold and wanted to trade it with your Stephen for Christine. But Christine wasn't here. Instead, there were you.
"Y/N," they both blurted at once and walked away toward you. You stopped, staring at them. If I hadn't known there was a multiverse, you thought, I'd probably have to admit I was crazy.
"Stephen, what is this?" you gasped and started toward Stephen, not Strange from your world. "What's going on? What's all this talk about the Darkhold?"
"Y/N, you shouldn't be here," Stephen whispered to you. "Strange from another universe showed up, and he wants to trade the Darkhold with me for Christine from my world," he explained quickly.
You frowned. "Why would he give you the Darkhold? You don't need the Darkhold. That doesn't make -" you gasped when you realized… that your Stephen has a third eye.
"-doesn't make sense?" Strange interrupted loudly. The both of you turned your gazes toward him, and you felt the familiar pain in your heart that always came when you looked at Strange. "Of course, it doesn't make sense, because he's lying to you, Y/N. He is the one who has the Darkhold."
You took a few steps away from Stephen. You were scared. "That's impossible," you whispered, your voice trembling. You were shaken. His third eye frightened you.
"If you don't believe me, you can see for yourself," Strange said, and you reluctantly obeyed. You didn't want to find out, didn't want to find out that Stephen had lied to you about everything. When you saw the Darkhold at his waist, you closed your eyes, and tears slid from behind your eyelids. Your hands clenched into fists.
"You lied to me," you said. "You lied to me about everything! About not loving Christine, about loving only me, about the Darkhold being destroyed, and about looking for me in other worlds! And you're really still obsessed with Christine and no one else! All this time you've been looking for her," you sobbed. "And instead you've got me. Always the other, poor Y/N who can't match Christine, the Y/N you wouldn't even look at. I was simply Christine's replacement, I was your distraction, your amusement. Why did you lie to me about loving me when you could have just sent me away?!"
"Because we're selfish and we long for someone to love us," Strange answered for your Stephen. There was pain and regret in his voice, regret for you, pain for what Sinister Strange had done to you. But you didn't want to hear it. You didn't want him to feel sorry for you. "We wish we were loved so much that we'd be able to do anything..."
Sinister Strange grimaced and began to pace slowly around the room, his eyes on you and literally mocking you. This wasn't the Stephen who'd been with you all along. Had he really been pretending all along? Why, what good was it to him? "Well, we're obviously not the only ones desperate to be loved," he said, with a dark chuckle and no emotion in his icy eyes. Tears burned in your eyes. "You were so desperate. So pathetic. It was really ridiculously easy to convince you that I love you. You believed everything I made up, what I told you in a second. You want so much to believe that Stephen loves you, you're so obsessed with it that it blinds you. Do you really think we'd choose you over Christine? Why would we do something like that?"
"Stop it!" Strange snapped, a warning in his voice. Tears of anger and pain streamed down your cheeks, and Sinister was breaking your heart into a million pieces with each word.
"You..." you hissed. "You're so... so..."
He grimaced. "Good at pretending? Manipulation? Yes, Y/N. You believed everything in the first second. You'd have done anything for me. You gave yourself to me. I could do anything I wanted with you. And you'd thank me for it," he chuckled. "I knew this was going to pay off. Worth waiting for. On top of that, I could enjoy a little distraction until my Christine arrive. I took everything you offered me." His eyes flashed as he ran a hungry look from head to toe. Your hands balled into fists, tears glistening in your eyes. You felt dirty, used.
"Stop. It," Strange said again, almost growling, ready to fight.
Sinister didn't seem to hear him. He walked slowly toward you and continued to speak. "I knew that if you showed up here, he'd come to your rescue, and I'd take his Christine. And why would he come to your rescue? Not because he cares about you," he sneered at you nastily, "but because he feels sorry for this poor, pathetic creature -"
That was the last straw for you. Poor? Pathetic? Anger coursed through your veins as you raised your hands and conjured a weapon in a familiar gesture. But before you could use it, you were blinded by the orange light, by the fact that Stephen had hit Sinister before you had. Sinister screamed as the orange ball hit him and exploded. Strange and you both flew through the air, and when you hit the hard floor, you felt for a moment as if you couldn't breathe.
"Y/N! Are you all right?" By then, Stephen from your world had appeared, grabbing you under the back with one hand and gently taking your hand with the other to help you sit up.
"Leave me alone. I don't need your help," you said, breaking free of his grip. You knew you were behaving like a child, but you couldn't help yourself. What Sinister had said about you was still too fresh, and you knew it would take you some time to digest it. Because he was right, and it was time to admit it. "Where is he?" you snapped, trying to focus more on your anger than on the grief seeping into your voice. Tears were still streaming down your cheeks.
"Let's hope he's dead. He went through the window, and he couldn't have survived the fall from that height," Stephen answered carefully. You stood with your back to him, staring at the broken window, trying to stop your tears. “Y/N-”
“Where is America?” you interrupted quickly.
“Wanda… Wanda managed to get hold of her,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Then what are you still doing here?!” you shouted at him, finally turning to face him. “We need to get home, we need to save her if it’s not too late! Wong was left alone with Wanda, and God knows if he's still alive, and you're standing here and instead of..." you shook your head and wept harder. “Why are you here?”
“Because I was subconsciously sent here by America. She knew you'd be here."
You snorted and wiped your tears furiously. “I don’t need saving, Stephen. I don't need your pity either."
“I didn’t come to feel sorry for you, Y/N. I didn't come here out of pity, I came here because I need you. I can't beat Wanda without you." He stepped closer to you, and when you stepped back, he grabbed your arm and pulled you close until you almost hit him in the chest. To keep you from running away, he grabbed you around the waist. “Listen to me, Y/N. Nothing he told you is true, it's all lies. You're not pathetic or incompetent, and you can't compare yourself to others-"
"-because I'm not enough," you interrupted.
"That's not true," he sounded genuinely angry. "That's not true, Y/N. You're enough. I promise you're enough. You'll always be enough."
You shook her head. "Stephen... I don't need you to say that, just because you feel sorry for me."
"Damn it, Y/N," he growled, and before you could react, he bent over you, pulled you even closer, and gave you a long kiss. Your body reacted automatically, you had wanted this so much. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, gave yourself to him, and relaxed completely in his arms. And then you realized what had happened when you had allowed yourself to believe all the beautiful words Sinister had told you, and suddenly everything was wrong. It was as if you had been given an icy shower. You quickly pushed Stephen away from you and pulled away from him.
"No," you said in a trembling voice. "What have you done?"
"I think I kissed you…?" He sighed. "Y/N, we need to talk-"
"No. We need to save America," you said. He looked at you for a moment and seemed about to contradict you, but finally, he nodded and muttered that he was going to get the Darkhold. You watched him go to the stairs, and when he was out of sight, you let the tears run down your cheeks again. You put your face in your hands and sank to your knees, sobbing softly. A few moments later you felt something wrap around your shoulders and you winced, thinking at first that it was Stephen's arm. But it was only his Cloak of levitation.
"Cloak," you whispered as he settled on your shoulders and wrapped you around as if to hug and comfort you. You closed your eyes and couldn't help noticing that the cloak smelled exactly like Stephen. That didn't help much. You felt the soft corner of the cloak on your wet cheek as he tried to wipe away your tears. It made you laugh.
Before long Stephen was back, the Darkhold with him. When he noticed you with his cloak around your shoulders, the left corner of his lips twitched in a smile. “Go,” you whispered in the direction of the cloak, which obeyed you and returned to its owner. You got up and walked over to Stephen, who was already turning the pages, looking for what he needed in the Darkhold.
You cleared your throat. “Stephen,” you said.
"Yes?" he said, not looking up, but urging you to speak.
“I should do it. I mean use the Darkhold.” This forced him to stop leafing for a while. “You heard what he said. The Darkhold exacts a heavy toll. I don't know what the Darkhold can do to a man, but the point is... I have nothing to lose. Let me use it. Whatever happens to me, it won't matter."
“Y/N, what the— No, we’re not discussing this,” he said, shaking his head vigorously and continuing his search.
“Didn’t you hear me?!”
“I did,” he said. “But I refuse your offer. I don't want you to use the Darkhold."
“And why is that?”
He sighed. “That’s exactly why we should have talked.”
“Stephen,” you said angrily, “whatever it was you wanted to talk about, you had plenty of time. And you never said anything.”
“I know, and it was a mistake—”
You shook your head. “This is not the time. We have to save America.”
"I'll use the Darkhold," he told you firmly. “But I can't do any of this without your help.”
You sighed. “I hate you.”
He smiled faintly. “Sure you do.”
─｡ﾟ۞: *.🌌.* :۞ﾟ. ─
"Y/N?" You opened your eyes to find Stephen bending over you, watching you anxiously. He gently squeezed your hand and helped you sit up.
"Did you make it? Did you save America from Wanda?" you whispered.
Stephen nodded. "In fact, in a way, America was the one who saved herself."
You smiled a little. "I heard you talking to her. That was... nice." Then you shook your head slowly. "Wanda is not a bad person."
"I know. The Darkhold is to blame for what happened to her." And at that moment the Darkhold from this world crumbled to dust. You both watched the spot where it had been a few seconds before. "She did it. She destroyed Wundagore. And she destroyed the Darkhold in every universe." You nodded. "Y/N... Y/N, can we talk? Can we talk about what happened? About... us?" He suddenly sounded uncertain and watched you carefully.
You looked down at your hands in your lap. "Stephen, I..." You closed your eyes. "Every time I look at you, I see him. I can hear everything he's told me. I can feel what he's done to me," you said in a trembling voice. "He told me that he loved me, that he wanted me, that he needed me. That he liked me more than Christine. And I believed it. And then he crushed my heart to dust." You looked up at him, tears glistening in your eyes. There was a pain in Stephen's face. "I know you're not him, but you have his face. And I... how am I supposed to believe what you're telling me is true? How am I supposed to believe it? How am I supposed to believe... you?" you whispered desperately.
He watched you for a moment, and there were tears in his eyes, too. "You can't," he breathed, dropping his gaze. "You can't." He closed his eyes, and a tear ran down his cheeks. I'm always late, flashed through his mind.
"America!" You cried as a star-shaped portal appeared in the room, illuminating the gloomy space. You leaped to your feet and ran after the girl. Both of you came forward and embraced each other tightly. "Are you all right? Are you all right?" You worried, grasping her face and scrutinizing it carefully. America laughed and you used your thumb to wipe the dried blood from her cheek. Then you tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. As soon as Stephen stepped through the portal, it closed behind you. Strange watched you both for a moment and smiled faintly. He, too, had developed a strong bond with America with surprising speed.
America looked up at him and could not escape the desperate look Stephen was looking at you, and you were smiling through all the inner pain. "Thank you," America said, and Strange quickly tore his gaze away from you. "I couldn't have done it without you."
"You did good, kid. I'm proud of you," he told her with a smile and squeezed her shoulder.
"And Wong? Is he all right?" you asked.
"He is, you can see for yourself. Come on," America took your hand, "I have to tell you about everything."
She walked with you inside the building, and you looked back sadly over your shoulder. Stephen stood where he was, watching with pain in his eyes as you walked away.
─｡ﾟ۞: *.🌌.* :۞ﾟ. ─
"Y/N, there you are! I didn't find you in your room," America breathed as she appeared in the lounge doorway and found you sitting at the table.
You looked up from the book you were reading and snapped it shut. Then you smiled at the approaching girl. "Hi, America. Want some tea with me?"
"Okay," America agreed, watching as you took out a mug and poured warm tea from the teapot. "Why don't you use magic, anyway?"
Your face contorted. Since they had returned, you had used magic only in rare cases. And there hadn't been many. "Because I can do this by myself," you replied instead. America sat down at her feet, straightened her robes, and put her hand and chin on your knee. Then she gave you a look with her puppy eyes.
"Y/N, braid my hair."
You laughed and ran your hand through her hair. "Oh, I see. That's why you came."
"Not just this. Also, because I miss you, I love you and like talking to you. And you can always calm me down before a lesson. I'm always so nervous," America told you.
You stroked her cheek and smiled. "Then turn around." America handed her a rubber band, and you ran your fingers through her hair. Then you split it in two and began to braid the first braid. "Don't worry, you can do it. We all started the same way. And you're talented."
America's face was twisted. "I wouldn't say that, I'm no good at it. I'm just waving my hands in the air and no magic has ever shown up. I thought it would be easier."
"Patience, kid. You have to believe in yourself, you have to believe that you can do it. Because you can do it."
You were both silent for a moment, and you were finishing the first braid when America said quietly, "And I came because I don't want you to be sad."
You stopped. "But I'm not sad," you said, and you gave a tight smile even though America couldn't see it. A sinking feeling settled in your stomach.
"You are. You always look sad, when you think nobody can see you," she said carefully, then turned to look at you. You watched her in surprise. America put her hand on your knee and looked at you with sadness in her eyes. "Y/N, what happened? I know something happened to you in the world you got into when you disappeared from us. I asked Stephen, too, and -"
"You asked Stephen, too."
"Please don't be mad at me! I just wanted to help you. And he didn't tell me anyway," she sighed. "And speaking of him, he's in a lot of pain, too. And like you, he hides it inside himself. Y/N... can I help you?"
"I'm all right, America," you replied, trying to sound cheerful. "Now turn around so I can braid the other braid for you."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." She dropped her chin.
"Hey." You took hold of her chin with two fingers and held it up. You smiled. "I'm not mad at you. Now turn around." America did as she was told, and you went back to braiding.
"I'm not blind, you know. I see the way Stephen looks at you whenever you're around." Your stomach twisted, you didn't want to hear it. "Maybe you should talk to him."
You didn't say anything. You braided America's hair. The girl stood up and hugged you tightly, longer than usual. "I love you," she whispered, then smiled and started for her afternoon lesson.
You watched her go, thinking of her words. Then you sighed and went back to your book.
─｡ﾟ۞: *.🌌.* :۞ﾟ. ─
It wasn't until a few days later that you had to use magic again. Wong asked you to take charge of the training of a student who needed more practice in combat. You wanted to refuse, but you knew Wong needed help, and there were only a few teachers. So you had to agree.
"Conjure a weapon," you urged the young man, who obeyed you. "And attack me." At first, he hesitated, seeing that you only had your hands raised in a position from which you could conjure a shield, but he saw the determination in your face, and so he obeyed.
And you found that the magic was not listening to you. The young man lashed out at your side, then at your leg, which buckled under you and sent you tumbling to the ground. He stopped immediately and went to help you. "No," you gritted your teeth and stood up, ignoring the searing pain. "You have to act like you're in a real fight. Now I am your enemy."
"But ma'am-" he started to argue.
"Just do it, I can do it," you breathed, trying to conjure up a shield. Unsuccessfully. Sparks flickered around your fingers, but the shields didn't show up. You felt as if everyone around you was watching you, and that didn't help your confidence. You tried again. Nothing. It was as if you had some block in yourself that wouldn't allow you to conjure magic.
It was only on your fifth try that you managed to conjure up the shields. You sighed. "Lesson number one: if your enemy finds himself in the same situation as I do, don't play the gentleman and just attack."
The corners of his lips twitched into a smile. "But you're not my enemy."
"I am now. Just pretend," you growled and slashed at his legs. He jumped back. If you could no longer use magic, you would have to rely on physical combat.
The young man was attacking you again. You were avoiding his attacks, shielding yourself, but when he conjured up an orange sword and slashed at you, one of the shields flickered and vanished. The magic blade of his sword slashed into your palm, and the wound instantly began to bleed. You gasped, and fear showed on the young man's face. "Don't hesitate," you whispered, spinning and punching him in the stomach. "Fight like your life depends on it!"
So he obeyed you. He attacked you with his magical weapons, and you defended yourself with a shield and went to body-to-body combat. But you could not parry his wounds as successfully as you could with a second shield, your magical powers, and more self-confidence. Before long, your arms were full of wounds, your left hip was injured, and your legs were scraped from the constant falls.
"Alright, stop! That's enough! Y/N, what the hell is this?!" Wong's angry voice came to your ears. You and your student were both on the ground - you had kicked him away when he attacked you, preparing for another attack.
"You wanted me to train him," you said, bracing yourself on your elbow.
"Yes, but I had no idea there was something wrong with you! If I had known, I would have trained him myself," Wong growled.
"You have other duties," you muttered and moaned as a sharp pain sounded in your hip.
"Y/N! Oh my God, are you all right?!" America ran towards you.
"It's nothing," you breathed and allowed America to help you up. You looked at the young man and smiled. "Good job."
"Thanks, ma'am," he smiled. He, too, did not leave unscathed.
"Go with her to the infirmary, America," Wong said, and America who was holding you nodded. "Y/N, we'll talk later."
"Oh, Jeez," you murmured and America giggled. "To my room," you whispered, when you were inside.
"But Wong said -"
"America, please."
She hesitated, then obeyed. Presently you reached the room. As soon as you were inside, you lay down on the bed and exhaled. America watched you carefully. "You really should go to the infirmary. The wounds don't look very pretty."
"No wounds ever look pretty. Just bring me some warm water, a towel or something, and a bandage, please. I'll clean it up and bandage it."
"Okay. I'll be right back," America promised, and she ran out of the room. You exhaled and slowly sat up. You pulled up your white shirt to examine the wound on your hip and hissed. Your fingers probed the wound around it, thankfully not so deep.
"Y/N? Are you- Oh my God." You winced at the sound of Stephen's voice, and before you could react, he was in your room, heading for the bed you were sitting on.
"Stephen? What are you doing here?" you gasped in surprise and pulled your shirt down, rather unnecessarily, since he had already seen your wound. You hadn't seen him in Kamar-taj for a few days, and you were surprised to see him suddenly in your room. Why, exactly?
"I met America, she seemed upset. She told me you were hurt," he explained, kneeling in front of you and gingerly taking your arm, which had small cuts on it. "What happened to you?"
"Well, I was training a student, and apparently I'm out of shape," you sneered. "It's nothing, really. Just minor injuries, I can handle it, you don't have to worry."
He let go of your hand and looked into your eyes for a few moments. Then he nodded and looked down. "Right. Forgive me for showing up like this. I won't bother you then. I'll go." He got up and started for the door. You watched him go, a lot of emotion running through you, but at last, you sighed softly and closed your eyes.
"Stephen... wait, please." He stopped but didn't turn around. "I didn't mean to be rude, I'm sorry. Could you... could you stay here, please?" you asked quietly.
He turned around. “Do you really want this?” he asked quietly.
You nodded. “Please.”
“Okay,” he said and walked back to you.
“I’ve sent America to get water and bandages.”
He nodded in agreement. “You did well. The wounds on your hands only need to be cleaned, it will heal quickly, but the palm and the wound on your hip could need a bandage. I can do this if you’ll let me,” he said, looking up at you. You quickly looked away and nodded wordlessly.
“I’m back now and—oh, hi Stephen,” America said, with a bandage in her pocket, a towel draped over her shoulder, and a bowl of water in her hands.
“Thank you, America,” you said, smiling at her as the girl put the bowl on the bedside table. She took a bandage from her pocket, and Stephen took a towel from her, he soaked a piece in warm water, gently took your arm, and began to clean the wounds. America began to back toward the door, barely hiding her smile.
“Well, I... I guess I’ll go, I see you’re in the best care,” she said, waving to you on the doorstep.
You laughed softly. “Oh, man. I really like her.”
“Me too. She's a good kid," Stephen agreed, carefully cleaning your wounds. You were both quiet for a moment, you were watching him work, unable not to smile when you saw his intent face. "Y/N... what really happened?"
"What do you mean? I told you."
"Yes, but you've never come out of training with a student with an injury like that before."
"Maybe I just wasn't careful. Maybe he's just extremely gifted."
Stephen looked at you gravely. "Y/N," the tone in which he said your name made you shudder. He brought something out in you.
You sighed. "Okay. I... I guess I... I don't know how to describe it. I couldn't do magic. Except for the fifth try, I managed to conjure shields, and after a while, one disappeared anyway. They weren't even as strong as usual. I just... couldn't. Like something was stopping me. Some kind of block," you said softly.
Strange was silent for a moment, washing a towel in warm water, then moving to your other hand. The warm bellies of his fingers caressed you around the bloody wounds. "Some kind of block," he repeated softly. "I don't think I'll be far off the mark when I say it probably has something to do with our trip to the multiverse and your meeting with the evil Strange?" You nodded. "Oh Y/N. I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"But I am. I feel like it's my fault. And I think the feeling is completely justified."
"For God's sake, Stephen," you rolled your eyes, "you're not responsible for everything that ever happened or will happen."
"No," he said softly, looking deep into your eyes, "but I am for this. You told me yourself; that I should have talked to you a long time ago. I had plenty of time. But every time I wanted to... there was always something going on. And then... it wasn't the right time."
"And how long have you been planning this?" you asked wearily.
"I don't know. Even before I ended up in space. Before the blip."
"Oh my God, Stephen," you sounded upset. "That's a lot of years."
"Yeah," he smiled grimly. "But I always lost my nerve. Or something came up. Somebody."
"If you'd even hinted... I would have brought it up myself... how was I supposed to know? How was I supposed to know you didn’t love Christine anymore? I didn’t dare hope for anything. And then you went to her wedding and you wanted me as your date and… Jesus, were you going to tell me at your ex’s wedding?”
He laughed softly. “I don’t know. Maybe. I never said it was a good idea. But Y/N… we really need to talk.” He took your wounded hand and washed the blood. Then he reached for a bandage and began to bandage your palm carefully.
“Let’s hope a ten-headed dragon doesn’t show up in my room,” you said sarcastically, and he chuckled.
“Yeah, let’s hope it doesn't. I… I’ve been thinking about what you said to me. How could you believe me, after what the evil Strange did to you. And I… I wish you could. That you would believe me that what I’m telling you is true. I wish I could somehow prove it to you, but I’m afraid I can’t. May I?” he pointed at your hip.
You groaned. “For God’s sake, Stephen, can’t we just – yes, you can,” you said resignedly, and when you felt his fingers grab the hem of your shirt and pull it up, you shivered. You felt his electrifying touch and felt goosebumps form all over you. "You know... it's been a while. And... you're not him. You wouldn't hurt me."
"Well, I think I've hurt you more than enough by staying silent for so long—"
"Stephen," you said in a warning tone.
"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry if this hurts a little," he said as he began to clean your wound.
"What did you want to say to me?"
He cleared his throat. "I wanted to tell you... I wanted to tell you that I care about you. I care about you a lot, and I always have. And when I realized I could never be with Christine, it opened my eyes. And I realized that you were the woman of my dreams. And maybe that's why I put this off for so long. Because I was afraid of screwing up, just like I screwed up with Christine. And if I lost you... I'm sorry," he blurted out as you hissed in pain.
"Oh my God, Stephen, you picked a moment. All these years waiting for the perfect opportunity, and you pick this one," you teased, your heart pounding too loud and too hard, your head spinning from the words he was saying.
He laughed. "You're right. But I don't think there will ever be the perfect moment to declare my love for you," he said, looking up at you. "This imperfect moment will have to do."
"You know, ordinary moments are there to make them special," you whispered, as if afraid that if you spoke too loudly, the magic of the moment would fade. And suddenly Stephen's face was close to yours, sucking in the blue of his eyes and your breath stuttering in your throat. A second before he pressed his lips against yours, you closed your eyes. You plunged into his kiss, a rush of emotion exploding in your chest, your head spinning. You couldn't believe it was real. Stephen Strange had confessed his feelings to you, and now here he was, holding you and kissing you. So sweet and so intense, slow and eager, as if he never wanted to stop. Gently, you ran your fingers into his hair, and he took hold of your hips. Both of you had forgotten your wound, and when the startling pain hit you, you yelped and quickly pulled away from Stephen.
"I'm sorry, I completely forgot," Stephen blurted out, letting you go at once.
You burst out laughing. "You've had so many moments here when I was unharmed, so many moments when you could have done this."
He looked at you with a smile, as if you were the one who had lit up all the stars in the sky. He took your hands in his and squeezed them. "Y/N... I love you," he breathed in a trembling voice. "I love you. I would always choose you. Always. In any universe -" you put your finger to his lips. Then you bent down and kissed him again.
"That was cheesy," you whispered against his lips.
"But it's true," he said.
"I didn't say I didn't like it," you smiled.