Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You like your quiet, normal life. A life where magic doesn't really exist. You live in a medium-sized city in the south of the US, have an unexciting job at a bakery, and live in a simple, but comfortable, apartment. Your life is no more, nor less complicated than that of the friends you've made here. They have no idea what you really studied in Kathmandu. To them, you are one of those backpack travelers who has settled here for a while. Maybe forever, maybe not.

All they know is that you grew up in Asia because your mother worked there, and that after graduation you traveled the world until you finally ended up here.
It’s all true, actually. You just leave the part out where your mother is a Master of the Mystic Arts. You even got that title yourself before you decided to explore the world.
You don't want to complicate things unnecessarily.

Your day at the bakery starts early.
After the store is all set up and the goods are fresh out of the big ovens, your boss Suzie takes over the counter while you make deliveries. The orders mostly come from seniors who aren’t good on their feet anymore but still don't want to miss out on their baked goods for breakfast. But some also go to the staff of the small hospital and some offices.

The bakery is quite popular and appreciated locally, and you do your route gladly. On quiet days, you also like to chat with the patrons, especially the older ones. Here in the south, people are kind and chatty, and you’ve grown quite fond of them.

You're back in the store for the morning rush hour, as the second batch bakes in the back room.

Your shift ends in the early afternoon, when you either do some shopping on your own or meet up with friends.

It is a nice life, and you are grateful for it.

On the other hand, you have been in this city for quite some time, longer than anywhere else on your journey. you’ve started feeling restless,a need for change, for some kind of task. A gnawing in the back of your mind that has been making you want to pack your bags and see something new.

It's a sunny afternoon, except for a brief downpour that lasts twelve minutes. You wait for it to be over at the entrance of the supermarket, and then bring your purchases home dry.

After a snack, you go to your neighbor, Mrs. Cedar, who lives in the house across the street, an old lady who asks you to help her gardening every now and then.

She taught you how to weed out the beds and when to harvest ripe fruits and vegetables, depending on the season. Mrs. Cedar's hip isn't the best anymore, especially since she had surgery last year, but you don't mind the work and are happy to help the kind woman.
Besides, you are always generously rewarded with a share of the harvest.

She asks you about your day, how Suzie, your boss, is doing, and if you have met a nice young man yet. Then you get the latest gossip from the neighborhood: Sam, the Gordons' little son has started school, yes really, he's that old already. And Ruddothy from the dry cleaning is retiring soon. His youngest will take the business.
Over the course of the last month, you heard many stories about people you'd never met.

By early evening, the gardening is done and you take your leave, not without promising Mrs. Cedar to get her a bag of new topsoil from the store soon, since the old one had been used up.

Back home, you gather up the mail you forgot earlier and look through it while you put yesterday's leftovers in the oven. There's a bill, some advertising, and a slightly thicker envelope with no addressee. This is unusual and you open it right away.

To your surprise, a single, small object falls out, without any letter or card. You recognize it immediately: it is the sling ring of the Ancient One, your former master.

You hold it between your fingers, shocked. This can only mean one thing, but you don't like the thought at all. She could not be dead. She had always been there, and you simply cannot imagine anything could have killed her.

The Ancient One had always been very supportive of you in your youth, during your training in the Mystic Arts. She was your mentor. You had even been in the prophecy as the one next in line to be Sorcerer Supreme . But that was before you decided to leave the temple and travel the world.

Mixed feelings rise in you. First, sadness, but also guilt for not having been there, not even knowing what exactly happened.

Your stove signals that the meal is ready, and you turn it off, though you've lost your appetite. Instead, you sit down on the carpet in the living room and until your mind projects into the Astral Plane. It's a technique you still perform regularly to stay in practice. Today, however, you have a specific goal, and you send your mind off to look for the Ancient One or her magic. You can't believe she would have just left. Surely she had made arrangements, left something behind that would bring her back.

You search and search, but you find nothing.

Finally, you return to your body and stretch your legs from the previous cross-legged position.
Life goes on, she had always said, whether you are there or not.

You do get the pizza out of the oven now, just to do something.

Maybe it's time to go back, you think. The letter felt like a call from home. As if an old relative had suddenly contacted you and reminded you of your roots.

There's no rush. You still have some responsibility here. Also you don't want to abandon Suzie with such short notice. But you know from experience that your few personal belongings can be gathered and packed quickly.

Chapter Text

You use the Ancient One’s Sling Ring to take you to the nearest Sanctum, the one in New York. Since you've been gone so long, you decide to be polite and open the portal in front of the building.

For now, you leave your suitcases in your apartment. You can still pick them up later.

As soon as you enter the streets of the big city, the background noises change and you hear the sounds of cars, construction work and sirens. You step aside a bit to stay out of the way of the people walking around you. This is very different from the town you just came from.

Without having to knock, the door of the Sanctum Sanctorum opens automatically as you step closer, and you enter.

It’s cooler here, and the lights are dim. Immediately you have the feeling of being home once again. Although you had been here just a few times in your youth, the hall was still so familiar, although surprisingly quiet today.

"Hello? Master Drumm?" you ask into the silence.

Usually there were always Mystic Arts students helping out or studying here.

Weird.

From somewhere on the second floor you hear a noise and walk up the stairs. At the top, you have a straight view to the large, round sealed window.
To your left side are relics on display, and that’s where you turn. You might as well look around a bit while you wait.



Finally, you hear a voice from next door and footsteps approaching. You look up as someone steps out of a corridor on the opposite side.

"What d’you want now? I don't think…", the person quietly grumbles to himself, but then he sees you and dons a neutral expression. "Good afternoon, I didn't realize we had visitors. Welcome."

He’s a middle-aged man, quite tall and with dark hair already slightly graying on the sides. He carries a rather cold aura about him, perhaps with a hint of pride that you dislike. You have never seen him before, but to your surprise he wears the Eye of Agamotto around his neck and the Cloak of Levitation on his shoulders. The latter rustles strongly and pulls him in your direction.

Respectfully, you bow in accordance with the old custom.

"Thank you. My name is Y/N L/N. I received an invitation and would like to speak to the Keeper of the Sanctum. Is it still Master Drumm?"

"I'm afraid not." The man shakes his head and once again pulls back an edge of the troubling cloak. "Behave yourself. You’re being rude. I don't know what's gotten into you", he scolds it, making you giggle. It’s just too funny to watch.

"If I may... I think it just wants to say hello." You hold out your hands, and the cape grabs them. "Yes, It’s nice to see you, too. Glad you found someone."

The cape returns your words with a rustle before it finally gets quiet. The man looks between you and you step back a bit again.

"Old acquaintance?" he asks.

"I used to care for it, along with a few other relics that were in the display cases,” you explain.

"Well, as far as your request goes, we're a little understaffed here right now, but I guess the keeper would be me, Doctor Stephen Strange. May I see that invitation of yours?"

You nod and are about to pull the ring from your fingers when you hear your name called somewhere behind you and turn around.

"Wong?"

The very same walks up to you, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. Delighted, you go to meet him and he pulls you into a warm hug.

"It's good to see you. You've been gone a long time. Let me look at you." He pushes you at arm's length and looks at you. "You've grown well."

Laughing, you release yourself from your former master's grip.

"It's good to see you, too. Have you gained weight?"

Wong pats his stomach.

"The Americans' unhealthy food is to blame."

"Like your favorite place in the world isn't the sandwich shop down the street” Strange rejoins the conversation. He stands next to you with his arms crossed, seemingly not quite knowing what to make of yet more of your old acquaintances.

"They make the best sandwiches,” Wong agrees. "Come, Y/N, we’ll have tea. There are some things to talk about. Strange, I'll take her from here."

Before the doctor can object, Wong beckons you to follow. You offer another polite bow to Stephen Strange and then follow Wong into the old kitchen.

"So you got the letter,” Wong notices, glancing at the ring on your hand as you sit down at a small table.

"Yes, and it caught me quite off guard. How exactly did it happen?"

You get the promised tea and a rough overview of what's happened the last few years since you left. In the same turn, you tell a little about your travels.

"What are your plans now?" the master asks afterwards.

You shrug your shoulders.

"I'm not quite sure yet. I'll probably see where I'm most likely to be needed."

"Then you can stay right here. We’ve plenty to do."

"I'll think about it," you smile.

~~

It's late in the evening in New York when you step through a portal to Kamar-Taj, where the next morning had already dawned.

You see the temples, smell the dry but herbal-scented air, and you know you are home. Many memories come flooding back to you as you walk through the halls and you see some familiar faces brighten as they recognize you.

First and foremost is a pretty middle-aged strawberry-blonde woman who walks happily toward you.

"Y/N, I didn't expect to see you. When did you get back?"

"Hello Eloise", you greet her with a grin as you are pulled into her arms. You've known her since you were a child, and she often babysat you when your mother was busy. Like her, Eloise is an exquisite healer. "I just got here."

"Do you have time? Let's have some tea. You have to tell me what you did these last few years.”

You have no objections that could dissuade her from pulling you along. Laughing, you give in.

It's good to be home again.

You decide to stay in New York for now, because you don't want to give up Western civilization quite yet. You also like the more modern facilities there, especially the showers.
At the same time, you want to use the time to get back into your studies.

When you return to the Sanctum Sanctorum, you experience the same morning as in Kathmandu. You had forgotten how exhausting time zones can be. But since you are way too tired to go through another whole day, you take one of the free spare rooms Wong told you about. They’re simply furnished, but with everything that you need. Right now that would be a place to sleep.

In order not to completely fuck up your sense of time, you nap only for a few hours and are back on your feet in the afternoon. Hunger brings you into the kitchen to look for breakfast or lunch. As you do so, you run into Strange, who is making himself a large cup of tea.

"Morning”, he greets you briefly and without looking up.

"Doctor Strange”, you nod back politely, and set a plate of bread and fruit for yourself, sitting down at the small table.

Unlike yesterday, you are wearing the robes from Kamar-Taj now.

"So you're the new Sorcerer Supreme."

During your visit in the temple, you had heard all sorts of stories about the man who had actually been a doctor in his previous life.

"And you were the protégé of the ancient one,” he replies, now turning to you. "What's it like when you don't get the position you were trained for?"

His eyes are on you, challenging, but you know better than to get provoked by that. Instead, you raise an eyebrow.

"Scared I'm coming for the title?" you ask back.

"Should I be?"

A few seconds pass, during which you continue to eat your meal nonchalantly, before shaking your head.

"I haven't been interested in it for a long time. Maybe I would be again someday, but until there's a reason, I'm not going to fight for it. And since the job has just been filled…"

Strange seems to relax a bit after this explanation, but his cool aura remains. Maybe this was just his nature, you guess. Or maybe that came with the still fairly new responsibility of being the head of the Mystic Arts.

"How long will you stay with us?" he wants to know.

"If you don't mind,” you answer. “Wong said you could use an extra pair of hands."

It's more of a formality to ask the keeper of a sanctum for permission to stay, but your mother raised you to follow the old traditions.

"Sure. Then I won’t be the only one Wong is complaining about when stuff is lying around.”

"Oh, I’m on his side with this."

"In that case, your request is denied."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that. My luggage has already arrived."

During these last words, you raise your hand and create a horizontal portal in the air beside you. Its counterpart is on your old bedroom floor, and a second later your suitcase and a larger box fall through it onto the kitchen floor.

Strange is either amused by this or annoyed, you're not quite sure which.

"Great, now I’ve got two of these"” he mumbles, and leaves the room with his cup in his hands.

You finish your breakfast before moving a hand over your plate, making it appear neatly back in the kitchen cabinet before magically moving your things to your new room.

Chapter Text

You are sitting in one of the smaller temples in Kamar-Taj, trying to meditate like the others. You have chosen a seat in the back, with your back to one of the jali lattice windows, but you are not quite able to find your inner peace. Instead, your thoughts are circling.

You breathe in and out, listening to the soft wind chimes hanging outside near the door. The smell of incense is in the air, and if you were to open your eyes, you'd be able to see its hazy waft hanging in the air. It makes you a little sleepy, lulls you, reminds you of the past.

You think of your childhood.

Your mother is a master of the Mystic Arts. You grew up in Kamar-Taj, and magic was always a part of your life. As soon as you could walk, you were always on the hunt for the beautiful, glowing sparks, and your mother spent her fair share of time to keep an eye on you.

At the age of six, you managed to create an orange light for the first time between your own small hands, and your babysitter was alarmed enough to inform the Ancient One.

You didn't hear any of the following discussions, but from that day on you got lessons in the Mystic Arts. Nothing major, of course. It was mostly about keeping your skills under control and instructing you not to do anything dangerous. You would be allowed to study with the others if you were considered old enough for it.

You were a child. You didn't think much of it.

Neither did you think anything of it when, at the age of eight, you secretly took your mother's sling ring and played with it in one of the backyards of the temple complex. You had no real intention behind it, you only imitated the movements you had seen the adults do: the hand with the ring - which was far too big for you - stretched out, as the other drew circles in the air.

You liked your life in Kamar-Taj, you didn't know any other. The only thing you missed was a friend of your own age. You liked being with the people here, but they were very often very busy.

While you’re thinking about it, a luminous circle suddenly forms in front of you. A little surprised, you stare at it until your curiosity wins out, and you step closer.

Inside the circle, you have a view of a beautiful garden with many bright colors.

With the naivety of a child, unaware of any possible consequences, you step through. Behind you the circle disappears, but your attention is on your new surroundings. It’s a splendid garden with colorful flower hedges and the most diverse trees. Somewhere in the background you see the corner of a tall building.

You walk a few steps forward and look around in awe. Never before have you seen such colors. Kathmandu had its gardens too, but these were more arranged and far less exciting.

Stopping in front of a particularly tall plant with drooping pink flower blossoms, you reach out for it.

"That one's poisonous," you suddenly hear a voice behind you and you wheel around.

Not far away, but half hidden behind a hedge, stands a black-haired boy. He is about your height and watches you curiously.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asks, and you shake your head. "Where are you from?"

"From Kamar-Taj, but I'm not allowed to say where that is."

The boy made an expression as if that were perfectly understandable.

"And where do you live?" You want to know.

He points in the direction of the building you had noticed earlier.

"Over there is our house, and the garden here belongs to my mother."

"It's very beautiful."

"Thank you."

You both eye each other curiously, neither of you seeming to really know what to make of the other. You're not used to talking to peers.

"I came through a portal I made myself,” you start bubbling and the boy perks up.

"With magic?"

"Yes."

"I know magic, too."

"Oh, that’s great! Can you show me something?"

"Okay, come with me."

He beckons you to follow him and leads you through some bushes to a clearing in a small grove.

"I'm Y/N, by the way," you introduce yourself on the way. "And what's your name?"

"I‘m Loki."

You stop in the small clearing between the trees and Loki picks up a twig from the ground.

"I can turn that into a snake."

"Really? That's cool!"

The boy stares at the twig for a moment and makes a serious face. He's probably very focused. The wood starts to glow brightly, became more pliable, and then fell to the ground as an adder. It slithered quickly toward the bushes.

You're adequately impressed, especially since you've never been allowed to do anything like this before.

"One time I turned my brother's belt into a snake and it crawled onto his shoulder," Loki tells you and makes you laugh.

"I can do this," you then say, lifting your fingers to draw some lines and circles in the air. Small orange glowing patterns appear in front of you, coming together to form a disc. "That's a shield. Nothing can get through that. Throw something at it."

Loki picks up a rock from the ground and does as told. On impact, your shield lights up briefly and the stone falls to the ground. Loki tries throwing a few other things and lastly pokes another twig against the circle.

"That's pretty useful," he remarks.

You drop the spell.

"But not as exciting as a snake."

"I can also turn rocks into frogs."

"Coool."

You hear a voice in some distance and Loki turns his head.

"I have to go now," he declares, grimacing. "Will you be back soon?"

"I'll try."

"Can you show me your portal?"

You nod and raise the hand you're holding the ring with again. Actually, you have no idea how it works properly, but you think of home, because that's where you want to go, after all. After a few turns with your hand, the glowing circle forms and you see your room through it. Before you leave, you turn back to your new friend.

"It was nice to meet you, Loki," you say your goodbye.

"Until next time."

He gives a quick wave, then heads to the bushes as you walk home through the portal. Fortunately, no one is in your room and you hurry to put the ring where you found it. Although you know that you have not directly violated any rules, your mother had told you that such objects are not toys. That's why you don't tell anyone about your trip or your new friend.

It was probably the day you discovered the meaning of a grey area.

It seems like less time has passed in Kamar-Taj than in the garden. Or at least no one had noticed your absence. You keep your word to Loki and a few weeks later you open a portal to the garden again.

This time it's a little harder to find the black-haired boy there and you sneak a little closer to the house, which looks more like a castle without the greenery in front of it. You see the boy sitting on the terrace and wave to him. He notices you and seems happy to see you, but makes a gesture for you to be quiet.

You retreat a little behind the hedges and wait. It doesn't take long at all for Loki to show up and together you go back into the clearing, where no one would look for you two.

Your visits became more or less regular. Whenever you had no more tasks at home, your mother or other guardians were busy and you were able to sneak out with the sling ring, you opened a portal. To make it easier for you to find Loki on the other side, he once brought a silver bell. It was enchanted so that he could hear it even when he was not around. If he had time, he would come when it rang. If not, you would leave him a message. You hid the bell and parchment in a hole in one of the trees.

This system made your meetings easier and it worked for about two years.

One day you were standing behind one of the temple buildings again with your mother's ring, about to create a portal. Just as the glow appeared in the air, one hand rests on your shoulder and a second holds your fingers, breaking the spell. You looked up, seeing your mother standing in front of you with an angry face.

Your heart dropped and you knew at once the trouble you're in for. She took the ring off you and began to lecture you right on the spot, demanding answers. What were you doing, what were you thinking, and did you know how dangerous that could have been? What if you had landed somewhere and couldn’t come back? Or if you ended up somewhere dangerous?

You started to cry a little bit from all the loud words and your mom took you in her arms to give you a hug. The anger and shock died away and she was relieved that after all everything was fine. 

You quietly said you're sorry, but you were mostly sad because you knew you wouldn’t see your only friend anytime soon.

At the age of twelve, you were finally allowed to begin your proper training in the Mystic Arts.

If it had been up to your mother, you would have waited a few more years, but you had made an effort and were able to convince the ancient one to be on your side. And so you finally got your own sling ring. At first only under supervision in training with the other students, but you soon figured out how to 'borrow' it.

This time you're more careful than you were a few years ago, and go a little way off to a shed with barely used garden tools. Now that you know how the ring works properly, you try to visualize your target. It's a little harder than you thought because so much time had passed, but you think of the grove and Loki, who must be older now too.

The portal forms and you step through it into the clearing. It is smaller than you remember and more overgrown, but still recognizable.

Loki, of course, is nowhere to be seen, so you go to the tree with the hole in it, hoping to find the bell. To your surprise, the tree has grown tremendously and you have to climb up a few feet before you find the hole. It's a bit overgrown and admittedly looks nasty to stick your hand into. You close your eyes and try not to think about what all the soft or stringy things you're touching are. After some investigation, you feel cool metal and pull out the little bell.

Happy about it, you ring it a few times and then climb back down. Loki would take a while, if he's available. You don't even know for sure if he's still living here.

Once on the ground, you ring the bell again and then sit cross-legged under the tree. While you wait, you can do your meditation exercises as well.

After about an hour, you realize that he’ll probably not appear today. But that's okay.

Since you don't want to climb that tree or reach into the hole again, you tie the bell to one of the lower branches. Unfortunately, you didn't take anything with you to leave a message.

You’re back a week later. The bell is still hanging in exactly the same spot and you have no idea if Loki has been here in the meantime.

You ring the bell and then sit down to wait.

It takes a while, but then you hear the crackle of leaves under soft footsteps and you stand up. A young teenager with half-length black hair emerges from the woods and you recognize your former friend in him.

"Loki."

Though he clearly followed the ringing, he seems surprised to see you.

"Y/N?"

"Yes."

You smile and want to greet him cheerfully, but as you take a step toward him, he stops in his place. A little unsure, you do the same.

"I thought my brother was playing a prank on me," he explains.

"I'm sorry I haven’t been around. I was banned from portals."

"I see. But you're not anymore?"

"Now I'm officially allowed to use that kind of magic."

You grin cheekily and Loki understands, putting on a similar expression. He steps up to you and takes your hands.

"It's good to see you again after all these centuries."

That was quite an exaggeration, but you nod.
"You too,” you reply honestly.

You sit down on the ground and talk a bit about how you've been in the meantime.

The afternoon passes quickly and as you say goodbye, you promise to come back soon.

Next time, you bring a small, red ceramic box as a new hiding place for the bell. The two of you bury it under the roots of the tree.

"Is Kamar-Taj in Vanaheim?" Loki asks you afterwards.

"I don't know that name, but maybe we have another name for it."

"Vanaheim is home to many people who know magic."

"Is that where your mother is from?"

He told you once that he was learning these skills from her, and he nods.

"Your magic is a little different, but there are different schools of it,” he explains.

You think about it for a moment.

"My school has temples and schools in different places and is very important to the world. But I know there are other kinds of magic, too."

"Then it must be Vanaheim."

Years go by in which you continue your training of the Mystic Arts. You try to visit Loki as often as possible. But since time does not seem to flow linearly between your worlds, it is difficult to arrange meetings.

You two always stay in the garden, where you are unobserved. At one point, you meet Loki's brother Thor, but you don't get on very well with him. He seems rather self-absorbed. But maybe you are influenced by Loki's opinion, who gets along with his brother only so well.

As you grow older, unfortunately, the visits become more sporadic. On the one hand, you both have many duties at home. On the other hand, you notice more and more how you two are drifting apart.

Before, when you were kids, you liked to come up with pranks and it was a lot of fun for you. But as you get older, you find some of the jokes of Loki are pretty mean, and you don't feel like joining in anymore.

If your mother had known him, she probably would have called him a troublemaker.

You continue to see a good friend in him, though, because you can look deeper and know about many of his inner conflicts, or at least suspect them.

Your last encounter in the clearing unfortunately had a rather bitter ending.

You've been trying to meet Loki for a few days now, but have had no success so far. But you have something important to tell him, so you don't give up.

On the fourth day, Loki finally steps onto the clearing.

You are both young adults by now.

"Good to see you," you greet him and he replies with a smile.

You sit down as usual and make some small talk. But today you’re absorbed into your thoughts.

"What's wrong?" Loki asks you after a while of a rather one-sided conversation.

You take a deep breath.

"I'm going to leave my temple for a while," you blurt out. "That means I'll be living in a world without magic, and I won't be taking my sling ring with me either."

You've thought about this for a long time. Although you have had contact with the outside world all your life in Kathmandu and also the three Sanctums, you want to see more. As for your studies in Kamar-Taj, you've felt stuck for a while, almost like out of place. It's your home, but you also want to see the other side. Therefore, your things were already packed.

Loki looks at you with an unreadable expression.

"Where are you going?" he wants to know.

"I don't know yet. Maybe I'll travel to different places first and see where I like it best."

"And for how long?"

You shrug.

"I don't know yet if I want to return."

There is silence as Loki ponders this new information. You're not sure what he thinks about this, but you didn’t want to leave without a word. Not again.

"I’d wanted to ask you for a favor," the prince then suddenly tells you. "I guess this is my last chance for it."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Show me how to open portals between worlds," he asked.

You tense up.

"You know I can't do that."

"No one would know."

"That's not the point. It's too dangerous."

"I just need a portal to Jotunheim."

You don't know this place, but you don't have a good feeling about it. Disgruntled, you stand up.

"I said no. Besides, you can’t use the spell without a ring."

Loki rises as well.

"Then give me yours."

Dumbfounded, you stare at him.

"If you won't take it with you on your journey, you might as well open a portal home and leave the ring to me. I promise I'll take good care of it."

He reaches out, but you've had enough.

"I'm leaving now," you decide, taking a few steps away from him. This isn't how you imagined the farewell.

You dart him a look in case he tries to stop you, and for a moment it actually looks like it. But he stops and watches you create your orange circle and walk toward it.

"Goodbye," you murmur, but get no response. You’re not even sure if he heard it.

Then you’re back in your own room again. Tears come to your eyes, and you are angry and sad at the same time about this outcome. Nevertheless, you stick to your plan. You move into the world of the unaware, the normal humans. Through Asia, Europe to North America. And years passed before you see Loki again. Until one day he appears on the American news.

Chapter Text

It is late evening when Stephen Strange steps out of one of the main temples of Kamar-Taj and heads for the library. He had a meeting with the masters of the other two sanctums about new, advanced spells that would be useful for protecting temples. Master Minoru from Hong Kong had developed a very effective method, which she shared with the other masters.

In a way, the Mystic Arts are little different from other sciences: there is research, development, sharing. There is progress and change. Strange likes these aspects because they are familiar to him. He wants to research more about this new method and discover his own thoughts on it.

That's when he notices a now familiar figure disappearing down a narrow alley between two buildings. It's a little strange, because there's nothing back there. No training grounds, no study room, not even a hidden garden.

Curious, since he still knows so little about the new sorceress, he follows her in secret.

The alley leads between the buildings to a deserted courtyard. There are a few dumped or forgotten things lying around by the walls of the house, including a rusty barrel and some broken, wooden boxes.

You don't seem to mind the junk, at least you don't pay any attention to it. Instead, you simply stand in the middle of the courtyard and start a ritual.

Now Strange is even more curious about what you are doing here.

In the air around you, a twirling, glowing circle appears, slowly sinks to the ground, and then begins to spin. Dark smoke rises with a faint scent of sulfur.

You lower your hands and look around, but nothing seems to have happened. This is equally disappointing to both you and your unseen bystander.

You see that the circle on the floor hasn't disappeared yet. Maybe you just need to wait a bit. So you sit down and start meditating.

~~
You must have fallen asleep, because when you blink, you realize it's the middle of the night. The sky is dark and the courtyard is unlit. Your limbs are quite stiff, and you are tilted uncomfortably to one side. Only your head is resting on something soft.

You lift the darkness by creating a luminous sphere in the air.

Next to you, you hear an animalistic growl. It comes from Callum, who has draped himself next to you and is now complaining about the sudden light. But now that you're awake, he straightens up and rises.

Callum is a Levion, which is a pretty name for a rather fearsome creature.

It is about the size of a horse, but has the shape of a greyhound with a broad chest and narrow flanks. The four long, slender legs end in paws with sharp claws. It also has two more very short arms on its chest, near the front legs, with finger-like claws that like to steal treats from your pocket.

The neck of the Levion is relatively wide, and the head almost dragon-like. Yellow eyes, pointy teeth, and a long, rough tongue. His short fur has various shades of dark gray.

Right now, he's giving you the cold shoulder and turning away from you in a huff. For far too long you've neglected him, and he resents that.

"Hey Cal, glad you waited," you speak to him. "I brought you some treats."

You reach into your bag, but it's empty. Levion already looted it. You grin and summon a bag of fresh meat that you bought earlier for him.

"Look what I’ve got here."

You wave the food in his direction, and he turns his head as he catches the scent. With an outstretched arm, you offer it to him. And since Callum is just always hungry, he allows himself to be coaxed and sticks his snout into the bag.

Now that he's distracted, you step a little closer to his side and pat him gently on the neck.

"Good boy. You'll forgive me, won't you? I promise we'll see more of each other now, and we'll go for rides again, alright?"

Callum nudges you with his bloody muzzle, sniffing to see if you've brought any more for him.

Unfortunately, no.

He snuggles up to you anyway, now showing his delight at seeing you. In return, you scratch him behind his slender ears.

Since it's the middle of the night, you soon send him back to his own world and open a portal to New York for yourself.

It's only late afternoon there and you decide to have a bite to eat and then read a bit before it's time for bed again.

Before you reach the kitchen, however, Dr. Strange steps into your path, arms folded.

"What is your relationship to the dark dimension?"

Somewhat confused by this incoherent question and his dismissive attitude, you stop.

"What?"

"You heard me. What's your deal with it?"

You frown, wondering what this is all about. Your hesitation is obviously making him impatient.

"You have summoned a creature from the Dark Dimension into our world."

You understand now, though you still don't know where he got his information from.

"You mean Callum? He's my Levion."

"He’s what now?"

Strange doesn't look thrilled. You take a step past him.

"I'll explain over dinner. You hungry?"

He shakes his head, so you just put on tea for two and grab some of the leftovers from the fridge. As the two of you sit at the table, you begin to explain.

"When I was younger, I once visited another dimension.... I forget the name, but it wasn't the Dark Dimension... Anyway, we went there because we’d heard about someone who supposedly collects creatures from all kinds of worlds. Not in a nice way, though. You probably know that's not really our job, but it was clear that he had no control over some of his pets. Especially not the more dangerous ones. Hey, did you know that basilisks should only be kept as pairs?… So, we eventually took care of it – unofficially – and transported his pets back to their homes. At least, we did for the ones that were possible. That’s when I found Callum in a box. Levions are rather aggressive, but he was still so small, and I felt sorry for him. We couldn’t search for a pack for him, because we couldn’t enter the Dark Dimension, of course. So I raised him somewhere else."

Strange listens in disbelief.

"And you thought that was a good idea?"

"I was young. And Callum turned out quite well."

When the masters had found out about him, there had been a huge fuss. But you were able to convince at least some of them that your Levion was tame. And you got permission to keep him until he was able to survive on his own. Of course, there were rules and strict supervision, but somehow you two had it made.

"Don't worry. I'm not allowed to summon him in cities or residential areas. Kamar-Taj is the exception - and that, too, is only outdoors, where he can't destroy anything."

"I don’t see how that won’t worry me!"

Strange continues to be skeptical. The memories of the dark dimension in connection with Kaecilius are too fresh, the experience too drastic.

He’ll definitely keep an eye on your Levion. And on you, too.

~~
You sit in the small library of the New York Sanctum, flipping through a few books that contain stories about various magical relics. You suspect that some of the events described are either exaggerated or pure fiction, because they read like ancient heroic sagas. But they are entertaining. And there is always a grain of truth in such things.

After a while, you're so lost in reading that you don't even notice someone else walking among the shelves.

Suddenly, a hand touches your shoulder and sends a jolt of electrical energy through your body. With a scream, you jump up and spin around, knocking over your chair.

In front of you is Strange, who has taken a few steps back and looks as startled as you. Between your shoulder and his glove stretches some sort of magical chain.

"What the hell?”

You look at him, bewildered.

"What are you doing?"

He moves his arm, trying to shake off the chain, but it doesn't work.

"It wasn't me," he exclaims, looking around to see if someone else played a prank on you. But there’s no one in sight.

"I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen the work from T'mith on linguistics. It's not on the shelf."

You try to remove the chain with a dissolve spell, but to no avail.

"Yeah, it's in my room. I can give it to you as soon as we solve this problem here."

You take a few steps away from Strange and notice that the chain is getting longer doing so.

You've never seen anything like it before.

Meanwhile, Wong has entered, unnoticed by the two of you, looking for the cause of the noise. At the sight of you, a surprised "Oh" escapes him, causing you to turn and face him. "This is unexpected."

"You know what it is?" Strange follows up and Wong nods.

"I was expecting it later, though."

He steps between the shelves and seems to be looking for a specific book.

"Every Sorcerer Supreme has an Anchor," he explains as he searches. "The Anchor keeps his power and influence under control. It connects him to the ground, so to speak, so he doesn't drift away."

"This is the first time I've ever heard of this." You frown while Stephen crosses his arms.

"I think I would know if I carried an anchor around with me."

Wong returns with a plain, cloth-bound book.

"I assume you touched each other, and then this happened?" he asks.

"I tapped her shoulder."

Wong flips through the pages until he finds what he's looking for and perks up.

"You're his Anchor."

"What?" you and Strange say at the same time.

"Couldn't you touch someone else?" you add.

"No one told me that such a thing was possible."

Wong pushes the book toward you.

“He has no control over it. The Sorcerer Supreme's magic automatically responds to the one that's most compatible with it. Here," he taps the open page. "This should make the chain disappear."

You read through the text briefly and perform a rather simple gesture. Strange does the same, and the link between you dissolves.

"I still don't understand," you shake your head. "Why haven't I heard about this before? Did the Ancient One also have a connection like this?"

"The anchor of the elders died a long time ago, and no new one had revealed itself."

You put the fallen chair back in place and sit down. That was quite a lot of information at once.

"What does that mean now? I mean..."

You point between Strange and yourself.

"I'd like to know that, too," he agrees. "I mean, I don't mind having someone work for me, but I'd rather be able to choose the person myself."

"I'm certainly not going to be your employee."

Wong closes the book.

"Well, there is a ritual to break the bond. But after that, you should have no contact until a new Anchor is revealed. Otherwise, the same thing may happen again."

"Thanks, once is enough."

Stephen rubbed his hand from which the pulse had started.

For a moment he had felt like being back to his accident. The pain had spread similarly. But while it had lingered then, now he feels only the echo of it.

He reaches for the book to delve further into the subject, but you're quicker and take it.

"Hey!" he hisses.

"The Anchor wants to read this," you reply. "I guess since you have your title a little longer, you won't mind if you read it after me."

For a moment it looks like Strange is about to object, but he remains silent.

"Think about it," Wong advises. "The magic chose you for a reason. But the ritual is also an option, if that's what you really want."

You merely nod, then take your leave and go back to your room. There are some things you need to think about. And you need to start reading that book.

Once you were a candidate as the next Sorcerer Supreme yourself. It’s hard to believe you don’t know about Anchors.

According to the book, every leader of the Mystic Arts has one. The magic of the two connect in ways that are not visible.For example, one can find out where the other is or if they are in danger. In some cases, however, this is only one-sided and mostly affects the Anchor.

The main point is that the Sorcerer Supreme is additionally protected in his task of keeping the world and various parallel dimensions in peace. And furthermore, it should prevent him from falling prey to evil.

To do so, his magic chooses a suitable counterpart for the Sorcerer Supreme. And when the two come into contact, something like between you and Strange happens.

The chain between you is now permanent, but not always visible.

You’re not fond of the idea. You like having your freedom, that's why you left Kamar-Taj back then, and now you're feeling like hanging on a leash. Sure, you had decided to come back for now, maybe to teach, but this new responsibility is more than binding.

On the other hand, as Wong said, there is a ritual to dissolve the chain. You turn to the last chapter. It's quite complicated and even requires a little blood from the partners - but this is a safety measure so that no outside third party can simply cut the connection.

With a sigh, you close the book and decide to go to bed.

You won’t make any decisions for today.

Chapter Text

You stroll through the rows of relics and look at the exhibition. You had already seen a few pieces when you arrived at the Sanctum, but only those stored directly by the stairs.

There are two more rooms filled with them. The fact that so many items are in display cases or hanging on the walls means either that the other sanctums are empty, or that there are no people to carry them.

You have been told of the recent battles: the aliens, Kaecilius, Dormammu; but you had not been aware of the losses.

Sure, you are glad you haven’t been here during these warlike times, but on the other hand you’re feeling guilty. It reinforces in you the decision you made.

In the second room, you make a surprising discovery: a pair of silver, leather-padded bracers lying in a glass case, which are all too familiar. They are the Bracers of Protection, and you used to wear them.

You look at them fondly, and the armor pieces seem to glow from the incoming light.

Should you try it?
Why not?

The top glass panel is easily lifted by a hinge, and you touch one bracer. It feels like it's vibrating slightly, as if it's full of anticipation.

Without further ado, you take them both out and put them on. They still fit as well as ever, and a touch of nostalgia washes over you.

Suddenly you notice something bright out of the corner of your eye and instinctively jump aside. At the same time, you throw up your arms to protect your head. A ball of energy bounces off your bracers and fizzles out, the faint reverberation of a bell can be heard.

You check on the source and see Strange standing in the doorway.

"So I'm starting to think you're trying to secretly kill me," you say.

"I was just testing to see if the Bracers of Protection have chosen you or if you were stealing them from the display case," he explains, now stepping closer curiously.

Since they protected you, you’re now the new bearer of them. Even if they weren’t so new to you.

You know Strange is right, so you drop the subject.

There is a brief pause, during which you close the glass lid of the display case.

"Have you made up your mind?" Dr. Strange asks you. "About the Anchor thing."

"Yes, I have." You look for the right words. "You know, when I came back here, I thought about maybe teaching at Kamar-Taj. Pass on some of the knowledge. The Anchor is a much bigger responsibility, and I might not have chosen it myself. But I believe that nothing happens without reason. So if I'm a suitable candidate, I'd be honored."

"Okay."

This and a nod is all you get in response. Strange turns to leave, but is stopped by your question.

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

Not understanding, he turns his head toward you.

"Are you fine with me as your Anchor? This thing involves two people, after all."

He seems surprised. Either he hadn't thought about it, or he was just going to accept your decision.

"From what I've read up on it, it's pretty important for the Sorcerer Supreme to have an Anchor," he finally explains. Obviously, he is thinking about the Ancient One and her connection to the Dark Dimension, which was probably a consequence of not having an Anchor. He had already been exposed to enough of the Dark Dimension and other abysses to know he didn't want to get involved with it any further.
"If you decline, we don't know when or who the next candidate for it will be. Besides, we've been getting along okay so far. So there could have been a worse choice."

You roll your eyes.
"Thanks, you really know how to compliment people."

"You're welcome."

You're not sure if Stephen means that seriously or sarcastically. The man is really very hard to read.

"Well, now that we're in agreement, we should probably do the sealing ritual,” you say.

You hold out your hand to him, which he stares at for a moment. He is supposed to take it with his own, but he makes no move to do so.

"Is it because of your injury?" you ask. While you've heard about his accident a few years ago, you don't know what his real condition is. "If you're in pain, I'll make sure to be extra careful."

He shakes his head.

"No, it’s not that…"

He takes a deep breath, then takes off his yellow gloves. You realize you’ve never seen him without them before. Your gaze falls on his fingers, which are scarred all over and they also tremble slightly.

For the short ritual it is important that your skin touches, so you shake hands. Carefully, because you don't want to hurt him.

He, on the other hand, watches your reaction, guarded. Your eyes meet. Like two shy animals in the wilderness, approaching each other, but watching carefully to make sure the other doesn't suddenly bite.

You smile at him.

"Ready?"

He nods.

As it’s described in Wong's book, you bring your free palms together. From there, you draw a few circling gestures in the air. Orange light appears and slowly follows your movements before disappearing. You let go of your held hands, and the chain between them can be seen again. Both of you lead put to your chest.

The connection is anchored in it, and you immediately feel a change. It is as if you feel Strange's presence without having to see him. You also perceive his magical aura more strongly, as if you were catching a glimpse of his abilities.

You can tell from his expression that he must be feeling the same way about you.

"That's quite fascinating," he murmurs, and you nod.

With a simple wave of his hand, the chain between you disappears again, but the feeling remains.

"I'm going to inform Wong," you announce after a moment of silence, turning toward the door.

It's strange to feel a connection to the room persist even though you're leaving it. There’s a light pulling in his direction while you walk away.

After a few moments, the direction shifts as Strange presumably starts moving somewhere as well.

You certainly hope there's a way to block out this constant feeling. It’s quite distracting.

~~

Stephen and you are standing on the roof of the Sanctum.

Wong had suggested that the two of you train together, just so you know about each other's abilities. You are a little reluctant, but know that it is important to know each other and your magic well. Plus, you're both a little curious about each other, too.

You, because you want to know what qualifies Stephen Strange for the Sorcerer Supreme in his actually quite short time with the Mystic Arts.

Strange, because he knows you grew up in Kamar-Taj and have been practicing magic for most of your life.

He motions for you to start, but you don't move.

"Let me see what they teach you these days first," you grin. "Besides, the newbie always shows off his skills first. It's tradition."

That's a lie, but apparently Strange doesn't know that. He frowns about the choice of your words, but doesn’t complain loudly.

As learned in Kathmandu and repeated a hundred times before, he takes his stand. He closes his gloved hands together and makes some complicated gestures. Runes and lines in a glowing yellow-orange appear in the air and assemble into a cube-like construct with a small black sphere spinning in the center.

You nod, impressed. He creates a visible pocket dimension that is not unstable, a level of sorcery that is quite difficult to master.

Before he dissolves the spell, you imitate his motions, creating a second cube that also houses a sphere. Strange eyes it curiously, but can’t find any flaws.

You both lower your hands, and the pocket dimensions dissolve into nothingness.

Now it's your turn.

After a brief moment of consideration, you raise your left arm to head height and, with a quick flick of your wrist, create about a dozen butterflies of pure light that flutter around you.

They don't have the typical look of magic from Kamar-Taj, but are brighter and very delicate.

One flies close to Stephen, touches his nose, and explodes in tiny particles of light. It's actually more a cute illusion than a real spell.

You learned it from Loki.

Strange seems surprised at your choice. He raises a hand as well and tries to mimic the spell.

He creates some butterflies, but they have the typical orange and are a little more angular. Their route connects with the movements of your butterflies, and you let them rise up above you. After a few meters all of them explode and rain down on you as little drops of light.

You smile and reach out a hand to let some of it trickle through your fingers. It's been a while since you've cast magic just for the sake of it, and you’re reminded of how beautiful it can be.

Stephen waits to cast his next spell until the drops of light disappear.

"That's all nice and fun, but now we should start for real."

He glances at the railing of the roof and then at the ground beneath your feet. You anticipate what's coming next. He raises both hands in a wide arc, and in parallel, to your left and right, the roof folds up like a book.

You stand in the crease in the middle.

Shadows fall on you, but before you are crushed between the pages, Strange makes a circling hand motion downward, whereupon the ground opens and swallows you whole.

You fall, and you see metal beams, iron pipes, and concrete slabs racing by all around you.

It seems to be going down endlessly, and you hate that free-fall feeling that gives you that tug in your stomach. You quickly close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing.

Then the feeling passes, and you feel fresh wind blowing through your hair. When you open your eyes again, you realize you're standing on top of probably the tallest building in all of New York. Beneath your feet is an area not bigger than the size of half a sheet of paper.

If you make a wrong move now, you'll have to be scraped off the sidewalk.

Strange floats in the air next to you, now wearing the Cloak of Levitation on his shoulders that he didn't have with him earlier during training.

He looks at you smugly.

"How do you like the view?"

"Honestly? Not a fan."

You use the Ancient One’s Slingring hand to open a portal through which you step back onto the roof of the Sanctum. Stephen follows you through, flying.

"I've never been a fan of that reality shift," you explain. "It makes me feel like throwing up."

"Really? I was under the impression that was the Ancient One’s specialty."

You merely shrug. Just because she used it a lot doesn't mean it's the only thing you learned from her.

An idea occurs to you.

"I can show you another beautiful view."

You raise your hands and turn them, slowly at first, then faster and faster, as if to create a vortex in the air. Above you, the barrier of the Sanctum, which also protects you from the gaze of passersby, becomes briefly visible as you send your magic through it. Some more complicated gestures follow.

Strange looks around, not sure at first what you are accomplishing, until it strikes him that evening has suddenly fallen. The color of the sky darkens, turning to pink as the sun sinks lower, turning the horizon a red that is perhaps a touch too strong. It looks like it was painted. You lower your arms and look at your work, as does Strange.

"What kind of magic is this?" he asks, visibly impressed, and steps to the edge of the roof to get a better view.

You stand next to him.

"Actually, it's just an illusion on the dome. If I tried hard enough, I could extend it to the city," you laugh."

"It's quite nice," Strange admits.

"You should see the starry sky I can create. Perfect for a nighttime picnic." You walk back to the center of the rooftop. "I'd say that was enough of a warm-up? How about some real training?"

"Aren't you going to dissolve it?" he asks, pointing his fingers to the sky as he faces you.

"Why? It's pretty, isn't it?... Why are you rolling your eyes?"

"Do you think it's romantic to duel your boss at sunset?"

"If you're my boss, why don't you give me my paycheck?" Now it's you who's rolling your eyes. "Fine, I'll teach you something more pragmatic, if that's what you prefer."

Strange doesn't look like he wants to be taught anything by you, but doesn't interrupt you either.

"Do you know how to block your opponent's spells?"

"By interrupting them," he explains, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

"Yes. But you can also bring them under your own control and transform them. I’ll show you. Create a big shield, but do the movements slowly."

Strange follows your prompt.

He puts his palms together and then pulls a magical beam vertically apart between them until it is almost a yard long. He then wants to rotate his hands in a circle so that the line becomes a disc, but you are now gripping it firmly. It's like you're trying to hold onto his magic, except you're not actually touching it. You're still standing a few steps away.

Stephen can't move his arms any further without effort. It's like he's trying to turn the wheel of a ship while you're doing the same in the opposite direction.

In muscle strength he is stronger than you, and you know it. But he holds back with the stubbornness of his will – probably because he doesn't know yet where this lesson is going.

Therefore, you take a step forward and strengthen your grip on the air and your will, while turning the magic in the opposite direction. Stephen gives in a little, as he is obviously curious about what will happen. You use that to complete the spell.

The shield appears, mirrored in its pattern, and you move it a bit away from Strange. Astonished, he drops his hands, tries to dissolve the spell, but nothing happens. He no longer has control over it.

"That's useful," he comments. "Why haven't I read about this before?"

You play around with the shield a bit, making it circle and move in different directions before dropping it.

"I discovered it myself. Once I got tired of being attacked by the same spell all the time when I was training."

You explain to him that it works best with magic that has a physical effect. Especially if you take control while the shield is still being created. It's much more difficult if the spell is already finished.

You try it a few times together, with Stephen not really figuring out how to grab a spell yet. Magic isn't really a physical thing, just like you can't grab wind even though you can see it move the leaves of the trees.

And your explanations are also only moderately helpful, since you act instinctively while Strange seems to be more of a theorist. And this technique requires more of a feeling than a formula that can be memorized.

"That's enough for today," you decide at some point. It's impossible to tell the time, because the sky on the roof hasn't changed since you messed with it.

"Already?" asks Strange. You notice that while he's worked up a good sweat, too, his stamina is impressive.

"You're welcome to keep practicing with Wong, but I’m really hungry."

Despite his objections, Stephen follows you inside.

"There's not much left in the fridge, but we can order take out. How about Thai?"

"I'm more in the mood for Mexican."

"Tacos it is."

While you take a quick shower, Strange looks for Wong to ask if he wants something to eat, too.

It would be the first time for you to eat with the others, and you like the idea. Everyone here has their own daily rhythms and schedules, so you mostly just meet by chance in the hallways or in the kitchen. The Sanctum is big for so few people, and sometimes you get the feeling that you're all alone here. Even though a huge city lives just outside the doors. You like the peace, but every now and then, company is nice too.

You meet the two men in the smaller dining room that adjoins the kitchen, and join them at one end of the long table. It's a little dusty from being used so rarely, but a small wave of your hand quickly fixes that.

Strange and Wong are engrossed in a conversation about a book on magic theory. You find it rather boring, so you indulge your own thoughts until the ordered food arrives.

Chapter Text

You've made yourself comfortable on the couch in the library and are reading a work about different worlds and their inhabitants. Some of them have long since been lost or contact with them broken off.

You had caught a glimpse of others in the past, but otherwise do not know much about them. There are an infinite number of them.

So immersed in your book, you notice only marginally that Stephen also enters the library and walks around a bit between the shelves, probably looking for a particular book.

When you briefly look up, you see that he is putting down a whole stack on one of the reading tables. He glances briefly at you in the much more comfortable reading area, but then pulls back his chair to sit down.

"You know, there’s plenty of room for you over here, too," you call over to him.

"I don't want to bother you."

"You're not bothering." You point to the empty armchairs. "Those are much better for a Saturday afternoon than a bare table like that. Trust me, I'm an expert."

"Well, then I should listen to you."

Strange picks up the top book from his stack, a rather thick tome in leather, and comes over to you, sitting down in one of the armchairs.

You turn your attention back to your own reading and soon forget about the world around you.

You like the fact that the two of you can sit together in silence, each busy with your own work, without it becoming awkward. It gives you a real sense of home here in New York for the first time.

You could get used to it.

After a while, you don't feel like reading anymore, and your eyes keep unfocusing into space, which is why you finally put your book aside and stretch.

Stephen is still engrossed in his book, floating before him. With a small movement of his finger, a page turns as if by itself. He looks very focused, but you sense that he is relaxed as well.

It has become easier for you to read him, especially after you figure out that his insides and his behavior show different things. More specifically, he often seems determined not to reveal his true feelings. You learned to listen to your connection of the Anchor, though, and you're usually right. No matter what he claims otherwise.

Stephen looks up, and you notice that you're watching him. He raises a brow questioningly, to which you merely smile.

"Isn't it getting too tiring for you to keep the book in the air all the time," you want to know.

Strange raises his gloved hand.
"It's more relaxing for my fingers than to hold it."

You didn't think of that. It's so easy to forget his injury, especially since he goes to great lengths to hide it. The yellow gloves have become normal for you by now. He always seems to wear them, at least you've never seen him without them.

Once you thought you saw bare hands briefly out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned your head, the yellow was back.

You slide to the other end of the couch, adjacent to Stephen's chair, and cautiously reach out to touch his hand.

"May I?"

He hesitates briefly, then reaches out to you. You pull o

ff his glove and gently run your fingers over his skin. It is rough and rather dry.

"You know you can fix that pretty quickly with magic, right?"

He nods.

"Yes, but I don't want to."

"Why not?"
You take his book out of the air and place it on the armrest without letting go of his fingers. Then you take his other hand and remove that glove as well.

"They remind me of the kind of person I used to be. And that I don't want to become that again," Strange admits, and you feel his vulnerability in your own chest. For the first time, there's no trace of the usual distance or arrogance around him.

Your voice is no louder than a murmur.
"I understand that."

Not everyone is proud of their past. Kamar-Taj in particular is often visited by people looking for a change. He seems to be no exception.

"Instead of an immediate magical cure, you could support the natural healing process. Maybe with an ointment. It won't make the scars go away, but your fingers would become more flexible and wouldn't be so cold," you consider.

He pulls his hands back, and his words sound bitter.
"I tried everything before I came to Kathmandu. Nothing has helped."

"I'm not offering you conventional medicine," you gently clarify. "Just an old, very well-tested family recipe. If you want an improvement, I'll get you some."

There is a pause in which Strange stares at his fingers before he puts the gloves back on. Apparently he was done with the subject for himself, resigned to the facts as they were.
After his accident, he tried so many things that were supposed to help, and put a lot of money into the search. And every single time he had been disappointed.
On the other hand, he couldn't help but hear the honesty in your voice. You don't push him to make an immediate decision either, but wait calmly.

He turns his head toward you and sees that you re-opened your book. You flip through it, not wanting to pressure him with your attention.

"Okay," he finally says, and you look up. "Let's try it."

You smile gently.
"All right. I'll let you know when I’ve got the ointment."

You know how much of a stretch it must have been for the former neurosurgeon to accept your help. His stress level has risen quite a bit, and you allow him some rest while you return to your books.

~~

Your new connection with Strange as his Anchor is irritating.

You've already noticed that you have a constant sense of where he is. When he's in the Sanctum, you can at least determine the floor. At more distance, for example, if you're currently in Kathmandu, you at least know which direction he is moving.

On the other hand, you notice all kinds of moods from him, especially the negative ones. Not that he has those in his everyday life, but there are a few incidents. It's not as if you feel them yourself, but more like a kind of sixth sense that was suddenly given to you and is permanently active.

In one of these incidents, you are in Kamar-Taj giving a weekly lesson in meditation practice to some students, when suddenly all your alarm bells ring. At the same time you sense a change in Strange's whereabouts. It is as if he has suddenly left Earth and moved to another plane, involuntarily.

You jump up and apologize to your students while creating a portal. In the next moment, everything calms down again, and Stephen returns to Earth.

Nevertheless, you step through the glowing circle and stand in one of the basement rooms of the Sanctum Sanctorum, where some of the more dangerous artifacts are stored.

In the middle of the room stands Strange, panting and rather disheveled. He looks up as you arrive.

"What happened?" you want to know. "It felt like you jumped into a black hole."

"It was the mirror."

He points to one set up against the wall. You swallow hard, because you recognize it. You look down at the floor and see a black cloth at your feet. With a wave of your hand, you let it rise into the air and cover the mirror while avoiding looking at its surface

"How did you get out of there?"

"Cloak flew me out."

Strange brushes his tangled hair out of his forehead.

"Why are you here?" he then asks.

You frown.
"Like I said, it felt like you fell into a black hole. Apparently, I wasn't wrong."

"I'll let you know when I'm in real danger," Stephen replies, turning back to the curtained mirror. Apparently, he's not finished with it yet.

"I don't think that’s how the Anchor works," you grumble, arms crossed, but Stephen waves it off.

Annoyed, you return to your class. Strange is a grown man, and can make his own irresponsible decisions.

You’re not able to continue your meditation on this day, because you get startled two more times, when Stephen probably falls into the mirror again. It's pretty hard to resist your inner instinct to rush right out, and after the lesson you're more exhausted than before.

You return to evening time in New York and, after a quick meal, decide to go straight to bed, because sleep is what you need.

Only it doesn't come. You toss and turn, which is pretty unusual for you. You even try breathing techniques, but nothing helps. It's like some part in the back of your head is active. Like an old television that is running very loudly in the next room and whose flickering you can still perceive even behind closed eyelids.

Only in the early morning do you fall into a restless sleep.

~~

For the next two nights, you still toss and turn, and your mood sinks with each new day that begins after minimal, poor sleep.

In addition, boring, monotonous chores await you during the day, as Strange has taken it into his head that all magical items found in the Sanctum Sanctorum should be categorically registered. It’s actually an easy task, with Wong volunteering to do most of the work. But you lack concentration, and you keep making little mistakes that are frustrating.

On the fourth night, you finally have enough and switch to the astral plane. So at least your body can get some rest even when your mind is awake.

You think about picking up a book, but you don't actually feel like reading, so your astral self just wanders through the corridors of the Sanctum.

The flickering that sits in the back of your mind is even more present now, and you wonder what it means.

In astral form, you see a translucent form of the Anchor chain leading from your body across the Sanctum. Without thinking you follow it until you finally end up outside Stephen's room. By now you have gotten a headache that has grown stronger with every step you took, so you consider turning back. But then your curiosity wins out, and you push your astral head through the wall to take a look into the room.

Strange is lying on his bed, asleep, but at the foot of it is his astral projection floating in the air, reading an ancient book.

"Ever heard of knocking?" he asks without looking up.

You consider throwing something off his table to mimic a knocking sound. The thought is quite tempting.

"I didn't know you were still awake," you say instead.

Strange turns his head toward you and raises a brow questioningly.

"So you were going to watch me sleep?"

Oops, that definitely came out wrong.

"Don’t you hear that?" you ask him, referring to the white noise that is really loud in this room.

"Yes, of course I do. Thanks for bringing that in, by the way." At your perplexed expression, he adds, "It's because of this.

He points to the softly glowing chain you've been following. "We perceive when the other is in the astral projecting. Up until just now, I've had quite a bit of peace."

He's got that smart-ass tone going, which you hate. But you begin to understand.

"Are you reading every night?" you ask.

"More often lately, yes."

"So that means I'm having all these sleepless nights because you're too lazy to read awake?"

Anger slowly rises inside you as Strange pulls at your pretty bare nerves.

"My body needs the rest," he explains.

"And my body is knocked out because I have this stupid static in my head every night, and I can't get any rest. And you're telling me you know these side effects and just don't care about them?!"

If you weren't just here as a ghost, you probably would have woken Wong up with your loud voice. But you're too angry at this inconsideration, especially since Stephen seems to care so little.

He looks at you a little surprised at this outburst, because he knows you as a rather calm person until now. But now you look like you're about to jump at his throat.

"I didn't think that was relevant..."

"You probably didn't think at all!" you interrupt him. "No, you’re only thinking about yourself! I've got news for you, though: you're not alone in this world. Especially not with this." You point to the chain. "All day long I carry you around in the back of my head, getting some kind of weird moods twenty-four hours a day. Only when I sleep do I get my rest, and now you're taking that away from me too?!"

Strange lowered the book during your rant and stood up.

"I didn't feel the connection that strong. I rarely notice anything from you," he justifies himself, perhaps with a hint of guilt, but you're too tired to notice.

"Well, maybe that's because your personality is pretty loud and pushy. But your arrogance probably doesn't allow you to think about that. Must be really nice to be so arrogant that other people don't interest you."

Strange's expression hardens, and he slowly floats towards you.

"I can help you put you to sleep."

He reaches out to you, but you bat his hand away.

"Don't you dare use magic on me! I want you to go to sleep like a normal person! I want my privacy."

You stare at each other.

You're angry and tired and probably a little desperate, definitely unfair. But you don't care. You're ready to fight for your way.

Stephen's face is expressionless, and he crosses his arms. He still seems to be considering whether to accept your challenge or let it go at that.

Whatever he reads in you, it finally makes him take a little distance from you before his astral spirit suddenly disappears and his body on the bed moves. Immediately, the background noise in your head, which had grown into a swarm of bees over the past few minutes, quiets.

Satisfied, you decide to return to your own body. As you now try to sleep, exhaustion quickly catches up with you and you fall into a long, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

The next day begins for you in the late morning, when you wake up and realize that you are really well-rested. Still, you don't feel good, because now that the anger has faded, your nighttime behavior makes you uncomfortable. Normally, you’re better at resolving conflicts.

After a quick shower, you roam the Sanctum and find Wong in the library, where he's already back to cataloging books.

You step up to him.

"Master Wong, I need some guidance."

He turns to you and eyes you. Apparently he's noticed your serious expression, and also your formal tone, which you haven't used toward him in a long time.

"What's it about?"

"I guess the connection between the Sorcerer Supreme and the Anchor is overwhelming me. It's there all the time. I can't concentrate, I can't sleep, and I make mistakes at work," you blurt out, sharing with him all the worries that have been plaguing you for some time. "I don't know if I'm the right person for this anymore."

Wong sets aside the book he's holding, and with a wave of his hand, an enchanted quill on a nearby table stops writing.

"It's certainly not unusual to have to get used to this first. Strange is not an easy character to deal with. But your strengths have always been calmness and patience."

His voice isn't loud, but he's perfected that tone that makes everything sound like wise advice.

You shake your head.

"He's driving me crazy. And I know I'm whining, but isn't there anything that can help me block him out of my mind?"

"If there was, I would have used it myself by now." Wong ponders for a moment. "Yesterday I had a book in my hand about telepathic abilities. It's not quite the same, but maybe similar enough."

He walks through the rows of shelves, then pulls out a rather small book.

"Here. Maybe it will help you."

"Thanks," you say, relieved that there is at least hope.

"Don't feel bad about having a hard time right now," Wong says to you. "You've always been empathetic to others. That's why you're probably feeling the effects of the connection more than he is."

"Sometimes I wish I were more like a non-empathic stone. I bet it's easier," you murmur.

"But also lonelier."

You don't know how to respond to that, because Wong is usually right, even if he sometimes sounds like a very old man.

You thank him again and then go back to your room to read the book.

Besides, you don't feel like a confrontation with Strange just yet, so you get your breakfast by magic.

The book is interesting and tells you a lot about telepathy and its users. They come in different skill levels: some can hear all thoughts of everyone around them all the time, others can do it at will. In part, it's a matter of training, but their talent also matters.

Unfortunately, there is no example in the book of a permanent telepathic connection between two people. Which reminds you to be thankful that you can’t read Strange’s thoughts.

Instead, you discover some precaution against others interfering with your own mind. It's almost like a sound barrier you put up.

You decide to try it out right away.

With the page open in front of you, you take a breath and focus on your connection to the Sorcerer Supreme. He's somewhere downstairs in the house, probably in the basement vaults, but otherwise behaving rather quietly.

You perform the written spell, focusing on your own body and trying to leave Strange's presence outside as if you were in house. You can see him if you look out of the window, but you close the front door, and almost immediately you have your own peace back.

The outside disturbance is reduced to a minimum, and for the first time since the revelation of the Anchor, you’re feeling like being alone within yourself.

Satisfied, you open your eyes.

A short gesture lets the chain from your chest light up for a moment and convince you that everything else is still as it should be.

You leave your room in a better mood. But you still have one more thing to do.

You meet Stephen at the grand staircase in the entry hall. He climbs up the stairs and wants to pass you wordlessly, giving you your space. But you stand in front of him to get out what you have to say.

"Wait, please. I need to apologize for my behavior last night," you say, and he stops. Since he's standing one step lower than you, you're about eye level.

"I'm listening."

You don't care if he sounds all haughty again. Your mom taught you some manners.

"I was overreacting and unfair. And although the issue concerns both of us, I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you."

"Apology accepted," Strange replies, but doesn't seem to want to say anything else about it, so you give him leave again and descend the steps.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear his voice again.

"You were right," he admits, and you turn to face him. "At least about some things. I've always worked on my own so far. So if you'll be patient with me and tell me what to look out for, I'll try to be more considerate."

He knows he made a similar mistake with Christine back then. She had always supported him, even after his accident when many had turned away from him. Because he could no longer work with them and was generally not in good shape. But he had not appreciated her, had not even seen her properly. And that, although they had been a couple.

He hasn’t known you for a long time, but there is more at stake, namely the safety of this and other worlds. Besides, Stephen wants to believe that he has changed at least a little bit, and learned something from his past.

That's why your words, which could just as well have come from Christine, hit him particularly hard last night. He doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

"That would be nice," you smile.

~~

You're sitting in one of the larger study rooms, flipping through some of your old notes from your days when you were just a student of Kamar-Taj.

After years of being absent and traveling a world with almost no magic, there are some things you need to refresh. First of them being healing spells.

You've never been very good at that. It's your mother's field, she's a master at it.

As a teenager, you weren't particularly interested in it, you just learned the basics so you wouldn't bleed to death in an emergency. And that was only because your mother had insisted on it.

Of course, it has come in handy many times since then.

Now you've got your old notes out again and you're going through them. Maybe you’ll ask a healing master in Kamar-Taj for a lesson to get some practical practice.

Relaxed, you reach for your tea and let your eyes wander to the window. Only when Stephen calls your name from the hallway do you look up.

"Come on, duty calls."

You leave your studies and hurry after him with quick steps.

"Someone has released hellhounds in the streets. Wong is informing Kamar-Taj."

As you explain, the cloak comes flying by and wraps around Stephen's shoulders. Quickly, you slap the side of your cubits together, and your Bracers of Protection appear.

Strange creates a portal through which you walk out into the streets of New York. Immediately, sounds of chaos can be heard: Screams, hoots, crashes, and the howls of creatures that make your hair stand on end, coupled with a sort of sinister barking.

You run first in the direction of the screams, because it's clearly coming from humans. Out of the corner of your eye, you register Stephen hovering upward, presumably to get a better view.

People in a panic come running toward you, and as you turn the next corner, you see the first creature: a huge dog, about the size of a bear, only slimmer, with shaggy fur that seems to be burned in many places. Instead of skin, you see bones. Part of its rib cage is open, and pointy parts of its spine stick out from the top of its back.

It has strong paws with sharp claws, with which he is in the process of tearing apart a car in which someone is still sitting.

Without giving it a second thought, you create a magic circle around the animal and pull it closed like a lasso. It closes around the hounds leg and brings it to fall.

With a growl, the beast rolls on the ground and pulls itself free. It leaps up and looks around for the interruption. Its four blood-red eyes, spotting you.

At least you've distracted it from the car.

You quickly jump for cover as the beast runs toward you. If there are more of these monsters around, you'll definitely need backup.

Chapter Text

You dodge the attack of the hellhound and then place your hands on the asphalt floor. With a short spell, the surface begins to soften, and while you remain on solid ground, the animal sinks in with its legs.

Baring its teeth, it howls and snaps at you. It has to use a lot of strength to move forward, and you gain a little time.

You need to lure the hound to Strange so that you can take care of this problem together. Ideally, you'll send it back to where it came from.

You step out into the street, directly into the field of vision of the Hellhound, who is now redoubling his efforts.

The animal looks really scary, its saliva black and slimy. Definitely not recommended as a pet, you think, and wrinkle your nose in disgust.

The beast reaches the edge of your spell and sets a paw on solid ground. You create a portal behind you and leap through it and sideways out of the way as it follows you through.

You roll off the ground and are immediately back on your feet, dodging a second mouth that snaps at you from the other side. You stumble a bit, and the beast uses this to attack you again.

Way too late you raise your arms to protect yourself, when golden ropes wrap around the troublemaker and pull him back. He braces himself, baring his teeth and flinging his black saliva at you.

Above him in the air, hovers Stephen and uses all his strength, pulling the beast backwards with the magical ropes.

You hurry to get out of reach and climb onto a bus lying on its side abandoned by its driver and passengers.

"Thanks," you call out to Stephen. He doesn't answer as the hellhound is rearing up, throwing itself on the ground, rolling around, and generally doing everything it can to get free. A bumpy ride for the doctor ensues.

You realize that this dog also has half-open areas on its body, especially on its neck and front legs. There is also a third one whose entire right side is black burned. Concerned, you keep an eye out for civilians who might be targeted by the hounds, when you realize that you've switched to the mirror dimension.

At least one thing less to worry about.

"If we keep the pack in one place, I can perform a ritual to send them back to hell."

Stephen appears floating in mid-air next to you. He has given up on the rodeo and looks grim as he creates a dome-shaped barrier around the hellhounds. It won't last long.

"We need more people for that," you reply, shaking your head. Your arm is scraped and bleeding, but not bad enough to worry you. "I can't take care of all three of them at once and keep them from eating you during the ritual... unless…"

"Unless what?"

"I have an idea, but you won't like it. Can you make sure they don't kill me for the next two minutes?"

Without waiting for an answer, you sit down and speak a longer conjuration.

Strange moves in another direction, but you are too focused to hear his muttered complaint.

Smoke forms around you, briefly obscuring your view, and the familiar smell of sulfur rises. A moment later, you have a warm snout on your face.

"Will you help us, Cal?" you ask the Levion, standing up to pat his neck. "It's urgent, so we can't negotiate for the price, but you'll get a bucket of innards later. I promise."

You get a sneeze in response. That will have to do and you swing onto his back. Now you're much more mobile and a less easy prey.

Callum jumps down from the bus, and you steer him, as best you can without his harness, toward Stephen, who is still busy with his dome.

"I thought there’s a rule against the Levion in a city," he growls.

"Sorry, I can't hear you under all that noise of panic and destruction," you shout back as you jump on the ground for a moment to repeat the 'the ground is lava' trick from earlier.

Instantly, all three dogs sink their legs into the softening asphalt.

"Okay, I've got them. You can start."

Since you're in the mirror dimension, any damage is inconsequential. Using magic, you retrieve car parts and pieces from buildings to build a fence all around where the magical dome was just seconds ago, hoping to keep the animals inside like a herd.

Callum, meanwhile, moves in circles around them so you can secure all sides equally.

Strange hovers in the air, seated, and has begun reciting in a demonic-sounding language with his eyes closed.

You pay no attention to him, as you have enough to deal with the pack before you. A dog fights its way dangerously close to the edge of the field, despite its sunken legs. Callum snaps at him and growls menacingly, whereupon all three dogs burst into loud howls.

You steer your mount to the opposite side, create the same glowing golden ropes as Stephen did earlier, and pull the dog back to the center, causing it to fall to the side and now sink in with its body. That's good.

You repeat the whole thing on the next hellhound, which is also about to fight its way free.

"Hurry up, Stephen," you mutter, because you can't keep all three at bay forever.

Fortunately, Strange's incantation is already having an effect, as signs of a ritual circle form on the ground, from which small flames are now flickering.

It's time to send the beasts back to their hell dimension.

You create a shield on your left fist and hit one of the dogs on the snout with it, while Callum bites it in the neck at the same time. The creature yelps and recoils, stepping into the flames. Immediately the yelp turns into a growl, and with horror you see the animal's black saliva start flaring up. Smoke is rising from the nostrils of the others as well.

"Oh crap!"

You forgot about that. You quickly back away as a jet of fire lands where you and Callum were standing two seconds ago.

Another hound aims upward, and you throw your shield up into its path – almost like Captain America. It gets hit, lights up, and then disappears. But Stephen remains safe.

The Sorcerer Supreme has his fingertips together and stretches his arms out to the front. His movements are fluid, and his voice grows louder. Another pair of eyes appears on his forehead, blood red like the eyes of the beasts he is about to banish.

You do your best to intercept the fire of the furious dogs.

Then suddenly they sink even deeper, this time through Strange's work. The flames flare higher and blaze brightly, and then the hellhounds are gone.

It's over.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

You slide off Callum's back and pat the still growling Levion's neck until he calms down.

"Good boy. You've earned your treat."

Stephen floats down beside you, his face now looking normal again with just two regular eyes.

"That was a ride," you say to him. "Do you know how they got here?"

"There was a portal in that parking garage over there when I arrived." He points to the building you tore pieces from. "I sealed it right up, but the question remains as to who opened it."

You nod. Callum sniffs in Stephen's direction, who has kept his distance, eyeing the Levion suspiciously.

"He wants you to thank him," you explain to Strange. "After all, it’s thanks to him, you and I didn't get grilled.”

Strange furrows his brows.
"You want me to shake his hand, or what?"

"Sure, that’s a start."

He looks from Levion's two extra claws to his gloves, then hesitantly extends a hand. Callum takes a step toward him, but the Cloak of Levitation wraps around the outstretched arm to protect Strange.

He listens to it and pulls his hand back, to which Callum bares his teeth. You quickly step into his field of vision, drawing his attention.

"He doesn't mean it," you say to the Levion, petting his head until he's calm again. "I'll send you home now, and later we'll meet in Kamar-Taj. There you'll get your reward. What d’you say?"

He nudges your shoulder, and his ears wiggle.
"That's what I thought. See you later."

It’s easy for you to transport him back to his own world. Then you turn to Stephen, who has been watching you.

"I'm really knocked out. Let's clean up over here and then go to the Sanctum," you suggest.

He nods in agreement, and you leave the mirror dimension to step back onto the streets of the real New York, which looks far less destroyed.

Strange undoes some major damage, and hopefully the authorities will take care of the rest.

By now, after all, there's an entire department that specializes in that.

You're far too tired to walk the few blocks home, so you create a portal. And back in the Sanctum, you drop into the nearest chair.

"Whew, I forgot how exhausting it is to save a city."

Strange also looks tired, but he still cuts a fine figure doing so.

It’s the same when he fights, you’ve noticed. It makes him look younger, more alive.

You yawn, glad he can't read your mind.

"You're hurt," he suddenly states.

Your eyes fall to your right arm with the bleeding scrape and you notice that half your sleeve is torn off and a few scratches have been added.

"Nothing serious," you wave it off, but he approaches anyway and sits down on a chair that appears out of nowhere next to yours.

"Take off your jacket," he says.

"You should save that for the bedroom," you joke, but push the fabric off your right shoulder, fully exposing your injured arm.

You wear a sleeveless shirt in a similar color underneath, all in Kamar-Taj's signature layered style.

A regular first aid kit appears next to Strange, from which he takes a few things.

He disinfects the wound and also wipes off the dried blood from the rest of your arm. Then he puts a bandage on the arm.

"That should do it."

"Thanks, doctor."

You smile gently. With magic your arm would be like new in a few moments. Maybe you'll even try your old healing spells later. But it's nice that he's taking care of you.

That's when Wong enters the room.

"Where have you been?" you ask him, not without reproach.

"You had the situation under control," he merely explains, then turns to Strange. "No comparable incidents elsewhere. Seems to have been a one-time incident."

Stephen nods and magically creates a stool to put his feet up.

"Good."

Apparently he doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon.

And though you want nothing more than to lie down and sleep, you still have a promise to keep.

"Do any of you know a good butcher?"

~~

An hour later, you're standing on one of the smaller training areas with a sandy floor, Callum at your side. You haven't bothered to change.

While you sit on the sand and eat a pizza you got yourself, the Levion digs into the promised bucket of innards you brought him. It’s still fresh, and blood drips off his mouth and onto the ground.

You're glad to have a solid stomach, because it's kinda gross.

Afterwards, Callum curls up at your side, and you pat him with one hand. With the other, you make sure the last slice of your pizza stays out of his reach.

"Good boy! You did a good job today. Showed those hellhounds who the alpha is, didn't you? No, that's my food!"

You push back Levion's little extra claw, which he uses to sneak a nibble of your food. He makes an annoyed sound.

"Didn't you have enough? I went through such trouble to get you the best parts of your food.”

You tickle his belly and he contentedly puts his little claws on your arm, clawing a little. It scratches your bare skin, but only on the surface. Nothing you can’t endure with some willpower.

"I'm sure you'll make friends with Strange. He's actually quite nice. A bit like you: hard shell, soft core. And even deeper inside, unpredictable."

Callum sneezes because sand has gotten into his snout.

"Yeah, I know," you reply, "We'll ride again next time. But today I'm too tired for it."

Chapter Text

You have already become so accustomed to the clothes of Kamar-Taj again that you feel a little lost in your favorite dress, which you once bought in Europe. It feels unusual to wear so little fabric, and, even more so, a fabric that is so fine.

It's a nice, mid-length summer dress with a pretty neckline. You want to visit your mother, and wear something other than your daily robe for once.

Before you leave, you quickly return a stack of books to the library. Somehow, you've gotten into the habit of hoarding books you've read in your room. Both Stephen and Wong have complained about this many times when you forgot to return a book they were looking for.

When you arrive at the library, you see the Sorcerer Supreme wandering through the shelves.

"What are you looking for?" you ask him.

"Time illusions by Larsamend."

"Got it right here."

Apologetically, you let the book fly over to him from your stack. He's about to give you a reprimanding glance in return when he notices your unusual outfit.

"Oh...you're going out?"

"Yeah."

You place the other books on a desk made of heavy wood in the center of the room and activate the spell stored in there, which transports all the works back to their designated places. So you don't notice Strange watching you. Only when you turn to leave afterward do you see that his gaze is still on you.

"Do you need anything else?."

"No, well…," he starts, but doesn't seem to quite know what he was about to say. "That dress looks good on you. Have fun with your date."

Surprised by the compliment, you blush a little.

"Thanks...eh, I'm just visiting relatives. I thought I'd use this opportunity to dress up a bit."

You spin around once to show off your dress from all angles.

As you do, you don’t hear Stephen muttering, "You succeeded."

"What did you say?", you ask.

"Nothing, I won’t hold you up."

"The Sorcerer Supreme never holds up," you wink, before saying goodbye and leaving the library.

Your mother's house is so far away from any civilization that you use a portal to visit her.

She retired several years ago, enjoying the peace and quiet of the countryside. The house is on the edge of a small forest with a big garden and a lot of fruit-bearing trees.

She lives in a different, much warmer, climate zone and there is something to harvest almost all year round.

As you step closer, you see her working in one of her flower beds where she is weeding. She looks up when she notices you.

"Y/N, good to see you."

"Hi, Mom."

You give her a big hug, having not visited her for far too long. You keep in touch via phone and video chat, but it's just not the same.

"Come on in, I made a pie."

She puts her garden tools on the wooden patio in the back, and you step inside through the patio door.

Inside, almost everything looks very old-fashioned: wooden beams and clay plaster on the walls, the smell of herbs hanging to dry on the ceiling.

From the back door, you come into a larger workroom filled with shelves, materials, furniture, books and scrolls stacked everywhere. It's a cozy chaos and no one knows for sure if anyone is keeping track of it anymore.

Through a hallway you walk to a kitchen with two large windows to the front of the house. Here are also a few modern appliances like the dishwasher, an electric coffee grinder and the smartphone on the table.

Your Mom puts on water for tea and serves you apple pie.

"Are you settling in well in New York?" she asks as you sit down at the table.

"Yeah, I think so."

It occurs to you that you really like being in the Sanctum Sanctorum. You feel like you've arrived somewhere and are no longer just passing through, as you've been doing for the past few years.

"It's really nice there." With Stephen and Wong, you add in your mind.

"That's nice, sweetheart." Your mother smiles and looks at you a little closer. "Your aura is really glowing. Have you met someone?"

"No, no one new lately."

"Then maybe you will soon."

She often had these mysterious things to say. In another past life, she would have made a good seer for sure. In this one, however, she doesn't make much of it, just speaks out what she perceives. Looking back, she is right about most things.

"I'm giving a seminar on healing magic methods next week for a group of students from Hong Kong. Why don't you join us if you’ve got time?" she changes the subject.

"Do you ask me because there might be a nice guy waiting for me? Or because I've never been the most skilled healer and you think I need a refresher?" You grin and help yourself with a second piece of pie. "Sure, I'll be happy to come by. Text me the details."

"Will do. And just to be clear, I'm asking you because I'm sure it won't hurt you. On both accounts."

You continue to tell her about your work at the Sanctum and your studies.

Afterwards, she gives you a tour through the garden, where you can admire the current fruit and vegetable plants.

Your mother has always had a knack for plants. Something you unfortunately didn't inherit.

"Look at the pumpkins. They've got a month to go and they're already taking up half the garden."

With all the leaves and plant stems, you can barely see anything of the ground. One pumpkin has already grown as big as a head. You get two smaller ones, which you place on top of a basket full of apples you've picked.

You'll definitely need magic to carry it all home. But your mom doesn’t take a no as an answer when it comes to sharing the harvest.

There are a few more peppers to come, but you put a stop to the zucchini, they're all the size of a human arm and you're sure you'll never eat it all before it spoils.

"All right, but you'll get some of the conserves next time."

"Sure, Mom." Laughing, you wave with your hand and the fruits and vegetables disappear into a pocket dimension. "I'll help you with the harvest soon," you promise her.

"I'd love to, but only if you have time. I don't want to keep you from doing your duties."

"You don’t, Mom."

"Are you getting along with Dr. Strange?" she wants to know. "I've heard he's hardworking, but stoic and not always very…insightful."

You hear a little concern in her tone, but are able to reassure her.

"He took some time getting used to, but he's a good man."

She strokes your cheek affectionately.

"You're doing just fine. I have every reason to be proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom." You blush a little and give her a hug.

"I asked you for a recipe," you then remind her. "Did you prepare it?"

"Oh, right. Glad you reminded me."

She leads you to the workroom and looks for something on a shelf.

"Where did I put it?...Ah, there it is."

She hands you a jar. As you open it, the smell of tea tree oil and lavender rises to your nose.

"You know how to use the ointment. And tell your friend to dilute it with some water. The skin will absorb it even better then."

You thank her and send the jar to the same pocket dimension as the food.

You haven't told your mother exactly who the old family recipe is for, but she doesn't ask either. It's not unusual for you to ask her something for friends, and she's happy to share her knowledge.

Eventually it's time to say goodbye and she accompanies you to the portal you create.

"Take care of yourself, dear."

"You too. I'll be at the seminar next week," you promise, stepping into New York with a final wave.

Dim light greets you as the circle closes behind you. You head to the kitchen and retrieve your haul from the pocket dimension. The food will last for quite a while, you think, especially at the sight of the full apple basket.

Stephen and Wong join you from the other doorway toward the dining room.

They are engaged in a conversation, but fall silent when they see the amount of fruits and vegetables.

"Do we have a secret garden that I don't know about?" Strange wants to know, his eyebrow raised.

"My mother sends her regards."

"Ah, how is she doing? And the garden?" asks Wong.

"Both good, as you can see," you laugh. "I'm going back next week. She's giving a class."

"Tell her I'm looking forward to the fruit punch in the winter."

"Will do." You toss Stephen one of the apples. "Here. I heard you're supposed to give these to your doctor to keep them away," you grin.

He catches it and bites into it.

"I don't think you got that one right," he says in an amused voice, looking at you again in your dress.

You turn to leave.

"Feel free to help yourself," you allow the two of them, pointing to the food before leaving the room.

Wong looks at Strange.

"You shouldn't wait too long," he advises him, to which Stephen turns his head to him, confused.

"With what?"

But Wong just leaves the kitchen.

"What am I not supposed to wait for? Hey, we were in the middle of a conversation," the doctor calls after him.

~~

The next day, you take the jar you got from your mother to Strange, who is sitting in a study.

"Do you have time?" you ask him.

"Not really. Why?", he replies without even glancing at you. Someday you'll teach him to look at people when they talk to him.

"You're always busy. Come on, I have the ointment for your hands."

"Thanks, put it there."

He points to a corner of the desk.

"No way. You come with me and get an application."

"Now?" he finally looks up questioningly.

"Of course now. Or do I have to make an appointment with the doctor, Strange?"

"Would be fine with me," he grumbles, but you don't take a no for an answer.

So you just push yourself in front of him and sit down on the desk.

"I'm reading here, in case you haven't noticed!"

"Won't take long either, I promise," you reply, making a bowl of warm water appear in the air next to the jar. "If you'll please free your hands, Doctor," you grin, extending yours expectantly.

Stephen pulls off his gloves.

"This is abuse of authority."

"I suppose it would be if I were actually a doctor."

You open the jar and take a little of the ointment between your fingers, dip it in the water, then start massaging it into Stephen's hand. He wrinkles his nose.

"That stinks."

"Relax. No wonder all those muscles in your fingers are so tense."

As you sit on the table elevated from him, you place his hand in your lap and knead it gently but thoroughly.

Just like the last time you felt his skin, it’s cold from poor blood circulation, which you now want to stimulate a little.

Stephen has nothing more to say, which is a first. He leans back in his chair and watches you while you work.

You hear, however, that his breathing is getting calmer and deeper and via your link you send cozy warmth over to him.

You repeat that with the second hand.

"Thank you," he says when you've finally finished and let go of him. Testily, he moves his fingers a little.

"We should do this every few days."

"Okay."

Satisfied with your work, you make your utensils disappear and stand up.

"Then you may continue reading now."

"You’re too kind. You know, actually I could get used to pretty ladies sitting on my table," he replies with a wink.

You laugh softly.

"Then you should get yourself a secretary, doctor."

"I thought you were my secretary."

"In your dreams, maybe."

Stephen's grin is enough as an answer and you leave him alone, shaking your head before you think too much about what he said.

You should probably go out with people more, or you’d come to the conclusion that Stephen Strange is flirting with you. And that he’s been doing that quite a lot lately.

Luckily, you have a class at Kamar-Taj later in the day. So you distract yourself from that thought.

Together with a group of some already more experienced students, you practice this really handy pocket dimension spell.

The hardest part is creating the dimension. The second hardest thing is  to not forget what you put in the pocket dimension, because you couldn't just turn it over and shake it out like you would with a regular bag.

Things could get lost in it forever if they weren't careful enough.

"Also, there's no air in there. So please never pack anything that needs to breathe," you warn the group.

But no one gets that far today anyway. Everyone is first busy creating a small dimension for themselves that isn't unstable.

After class, you decide to stay for lunch.

The food at Kamar-Taj is simple, but good, and you don't feel like eating pizza or sandwiches right now. Instead, you grab some of the rice with vegetables offered in the dining hall and sit down at a table with some familiar faces.

You chat about studies, personal news and upcoming seminars.

You're also asked about the Sorcerer Supreme by a few curious colleagues. You've noticed all sorts of rumors and stories about him. Some you have witnessed yourself, others you know are not true.

You remember that in your youth you yourself used to listen to such stories about the Ancient One, the former Sorcerer Supreme. And you know that there were always some parts added or exaggerated.

It’s funny to see the other side now. You remain vague with your answers and prefer to observe the reactions of others. You would not reveal the mystery of Doctor Stephen Strange.

As you're halfway through your meal, there's a noise outside the dining hall and some movement.

"Demons from Eastazan have invaded the Jade Valley," someone shouts in.

Immediately, several masters jump to their feet.

"Not again," Reese groans from beside you. He is Australian by birth, but has lived in Kathmandu for over ten years. "This is the third time in two months."

He also rises to take care of the problem and you decide to follow him. While you're here, you might as well help.

A group of eight people gather in the main hall. You know three of them, besides DaMarco Reese, and you nod in greeting to each other.

"You know the game: capture them and send them back to Eastazan," Cleobelle explains. She’s a young woman, only slightly older than you, who leads the group. "Chao, Amaya, you seal the crack they came through. The rest of you search the area. Just communicate through Silent Whispers."

The others nod and tie a strip of cloth over the lower half of their faces.

"It's easier to keep your mouth closed that way," Reese explains to you, and you follow suit.

In the past, you've often been involved in similar tasks: sending escaped or accidentally lost inhabitants of a world back to their own is one of those things that comes up more often than you'd think.

Cleobelle opens a portal to the Jade Valley and you all walk through it.

On the other side you find a rugged landscape. A lot of hills with steep slopes or crevices are seen, with some trees or high bushes occasionally. The grass reaches up to your waist and offers you protection, but also makes walking much more difficult.

Two people go off by themselves in order to detect and close the cracks between the two worlds. Apparently, they’ve been appearing more often lately.

Whether that's because the two worlds are aligned very close these times, or someone is doing this on purpose. There’s probably some researcher in Kamar-Taj right now trying to figure it out.

However, you concentrate on finding the demons, or Thar'galloth, as their real name is.

These demons have a bit of a ghostly appearance, dark and nebulous. But they are quite feisty.

Thar'galloths alone are no powerful beings, but they look for a host in which they corrupt until they fall into madness.

Usually wild animals that go on a rampage. But once there was also an infested forest whose trees suddenly seemed to come alive and no longer like visitors. Strictly speaking, the plants must have been alive before, because the demons can't infest anything dead or lifeless - and you're actually glad about that part.

Fortunately, humanoids are seldom among the victims, because, on the one hand, there are none in Eastazan or even in Jade Valley. Moreover, you can protect yourself from it quite easily by keeping your mouth closed, through which the Thar'galloths enter.

This is as simple as it is effective. Not all things need to be complicated, but it also made the forest thing more weird.

You've already encountered the demons once in their own world, so you know what to do.

Moving down a hill, you jump over a narrow crevice in the earth and walk around a small group of trees.

Nearby, you hear a sound like a flag fluttering strongly in the wind and turn there.

You hide behind some bushes and nearby you see a black shadow rushing excitedly around the entrance of a fox's den.

Easy game for you.

Your magic wraps around it and you lock it in a spherical spell. The demon wriggles while it gets compressed, but has no chance to escape.

With one hand you maintain the prison sphere, with the other you create a portal to Eastazan, through which you throw the Thar'galloth.

One down.

You set off in search of the next one.

Chapter Text

You tell each other when you capture one of the demons or when someone needs help.

Silent Whisper is a way to communicate as a group without having to actually talk. They are one-word messages that sound in your heads. You can determine the approximate direction of who is ’speaking’. It’s a simple spell.

After sending back two more Thar'galloths, you hear a very urgent "Bear!" in the back of your head. It's coming from the left, and you hurry to get there.

It’s not easy. You have to jump over slopes and crevices and more than once you have to use magic to lose your footing.

You envy Strange for his Cloak of Levitation.

When you hear a loud, very angry-sounding roar, you double your efforts.

Between some bushes and trees, you finally see a large, rather frightening bear standing on its hind legs, four more paws raised menacingly.

Around him stand three sorcerers from your team, including the one who called out to you. They are trying to catch a hold of the bear.

Its eyes are pitch black, and it lashes out madly, landing back on the ground with its forelegs, biting at the magic swirling around it.

It is clearly possessed by a Thar'galloth.

Cleobelle comes running from the other way and you two begin to conjure circles of force around the bear's six legs. Two more of the team use magical glowing ropes, and together you try to pin the raging beast to the ground.

It's DaMarco who steps in front of it, with enough safe distance of course, and sets about getting the demon out of him.

You don't have time to watch him, because even though you outnumber the bear, you have to dig your heels firmly into the ground.

Next to you on your side is an older woman, whose name you forgot after the brief greeting earlier, looking as tense as you.

On your opposite side stand Cleobelle and a middle-aged Russian man who is missing an eye. You remember him as Sasha, but don't know that for sure. Could also be Sergei.

The bear bristles with anger as magic digs into its mouth, as DaMarco tries to pull the parasite out, and it takes a leap backwards. You struggle not to lose your grip.

The woman next to you stumbles and loses her spell as she falls to the grass. Unfortunately, you can't help her, as you have enough to do keeping your own balance. Although you use magic to help, your hands hurt.

A few seconds later, the woman is on her feet again, catching the animal's free hind leg.

The bear roars, and sweat forms on Reese's forehead, but eventually he manages to extract the black shadow from the beast. He secures it in a sphere.

The bear rears up once more and then collapses, exhausted.

Relieved, you lower your hands and take a quick breath, still keeping your distance from the beast.

Removing a demon doesn't necessarily kill the host, it depends on how long the symbiosis lasted. But If it still has the strength to come around after this rampage, it will be disoriented and probably not pleased with its condition. By then, you don’t want to be near it.

Cleobelle steps in front of you and holds up four fingers. So many Thar'galloths are still left.

Silently, you decide to keep searching in small groups, just in case you run into another host. The fight has taken a toll on your strength. Plus, it's always good to have backup.

You go with Reese, and the two of you roam the area. You find nothing, but don’t mind since it gives you time to regather some energy.

From the others you receive bit by bit a countdown of how many demons are left, until finally there's only one left.

The last one is always the hardest to find.

You walk up a treeless hill that drops sharp on the other side due to a landslide, and from there you try to get a better view.

You see another team not far away looking through the high grass.

You turn to Reese and look at him questioningly as to where you are going next, when a shadow flits around you and then disappears again.

Instinctively, you put your arms around your head protectively, but then, like Reese, move into your defensive stance, ready to strike if the Thar'galloth returns.

Mentally, you whisper to the other teams.

Then you hear the flutter again, it buzzes around Reese's legs, and you try to catch the shadow in a sphere. Unfortunately you don't catch him, he's just too swift. Instead, it comes shooting straight at you now, and would probably have hit you in the chest if it were more than just a shadow.

Still, you stumble back, standing too close to the edge of the sharp ascent, losing your footing and falling.

You try to hold on something, scrape some skin, but then manage to magically feather your fall before you hit the ground and roll out. Every bone in your body hurts.

Groaning, you turn to the side and realize you've lost your mask.

You're also bleeding from your knuckles.

"Oh crap!" you curse and sit up, breathing heavily.

Then suddenly something dark hits you in the face and dives into your half-open mouth. You spit and gag to get it out. Panic creeps up inside you as you can no longer breathe and fall to your knees. You feel dizzy for a moment, but then it's all over again, and you gasp for air.

When you look back up, you see Reese come sliding down to you and carefully stop some distance away.

"What was that?"

Your voice is raspy and sounds foreign. You don't even know why you're asking the question, since you already know the answer.

The answer settles inside you and colors your eyes pitch black.

You notice a few others from your group step close by and watch you. You sense their distrust and feel somehow offended by it, as well as their half-covered faces.

You stand up and back away a step.

Only Reese removes his own mask, then raises his hands reassuringly.

"No problem, we'll have that fixed real quick," he promises you, "Just let me get the Thar'galloth out of you, and we all can go back home."

With each of his words, you take another small back.

Once again, panic rises in you. You try to fight it, not really knowing where it's coming from. The image of the bear roaring, struggling and being pinned down appears in your head. You don't want to end like that.

Reese's eyes wander to a point behind you, widening in surprise, and you hear your name. It’s a voice that is very familiar.

You wheel around and see Stephen Strange stepping forward to you.

He looks concerned.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him in a still raspy voice.

You try to clear your throat, but to no use. It feels more like another voice is settling over yours, tickling you.

"I hoped you could explain that," Stephen replies. "I was sleeping when this rather disturbing alarm woke me up."

He makes a loose gesture between you two, and you know he means your inner connection. Strangely, you don't feel any of that right now. It's like it's been turned off; you haven't even noticed him arriving here.

His matter-of-fact voice calms you down a bit.

"You've got something on your face, by the way," he adds, pointing to his eyes as he walks seemingly casually toward you. "You should do something about that soon. It doesn't look healthy, and I should know. I'm a doctor."

"I don't like that."

"It's like a splinter. Hurts, but the Thar'galloth has to come out. So let's get it over with and then go get something to eat. How about Thai?"

You honestly think about it. You trust Stephen and he's usually right about these kinds of things.

But out of the corner of your eye, you notice a movement, and your focus is drawn back to your surroundings. You become aware of the tension in the air, you can almost smell it.

The tickle in your throat becomes an uncomfortable scratch.

The others have stepped closer, drawing a circle around you, watching your every move as if you were their enemy. It's incomprehensible to you, since you're part of the team. Maybe you need to prove that.

Stephen grabs you by the wrist. You flinch from the touch, but he is stronger.

"Don't do that," he warns you.

Before you can ask him what he means, your eyes fall to your hands, and you notice small force shields glowing on your fists. You activated them without noticing.

Strange registers that black spreads in the middle of the typically glowing orange, but says nothing about it, not wanting to upset you further.

You cough again, trying to get rid of the frog in your throat, to no avail.

"Let me go," you grumble.

Stephen meets your gaze, now has his typical neutral expression on, downright emotionless.

"No."

He remains calm and determined, which angers you. Everything from your throat down to your lungs and stomach itches, making you go stir-crazy.

You muster all your strength to free yourself from his grip.

"I said, let me go!"

You hear yourself as if from another mouth. The next moment you feel your arms being held in place and with a sideways glance you see that Reese has golden ropes wrapped around you.

Strange's warning to the others to stand down thus comes too late.

It feels as if a switch is flipped inside you: you roar, yank your arms free and from the same motion slam your right fist with the power shield, into Stephen's chest. He flies back much farther than he should, catches himself on his feet and slides some more before coming to a halt.

Meanwhile, the group started moving and trying to catch you. But you are agile and feel much lighter and faster than before. And this despite the fall, from which you, by the way, no longer feel any pain at all.

You leap high into the air in a spin, whirling your arms around. Wind comes up, gets stronger quickly, and when you hit the ground again, a tornado has formed around you, sucking up the team. Some try to hold on magically, and you boost your magic.

Only Strange seems to be floating outside the tornado. You can vaguely make out his cape-wrapped outline. He calls out to you, but the wind is too loud.

You reshape the tornado so that people are flung away in a high arc. Then it disappears.

Strange hovers ominously above you. He moves his arms sideways and more and more arms appear, until he forms a lotus with them.

Then he multiplies, and now several dozen Sorcerer Supremes hover around you. All of them throw their magic out at you, but you manage to fight it off.

"Traitor!" you shout to all the Stephens before jumping again. Not so high this time, you slap your hands together, and the next time you touch the ground, it swallows you up like you fell down a hole.

Strange notices over your connection that you've disappeared elsewhere. Slowly, he floats back to the ground, while the other sorcerers come running back.

They all stare at the spot where you were standing a moment ago.

"Now what?" asks Reese.

"Now we have a problem."

Chapter Text

You don't know where you are.

This world looks everywhere the same with its hills, tall grass and small trees. You also don't know if you are near your team or not, because you can't locate Strange. Something seems to be cutting off your connection.

And with something you mean the demon that has taken hold of you and is making your life considerably more difficult right now.

When the earth spat you out again somewhere, you just ran. Straight ahead, up hills, jump over a crevice in the ground, down hills, up the next. Dodging trees and bushes.

Your feet are light, your legs move almost by themselves. But your throat burns like you swallowed a swarm of fire ants.

It’s getting more and more irritating, making you slow down until you come to a halt completely. You fall to your knees and scream, hoping that this will just get the Thar'galloth out of you.

But it's nestled down inside you far too well now. You are a comfortable host, with interesting thoughts and abilities.

You consider creating a portal to go home. Maybe to Kamar-Taj. Just getting away from here. Somewhere more exciting and where there's more than just grass and trees and a few boring animals.

This urge becomes so strong that you even lift your hand with the sling ring.

But you fight against it, suppressing the foreign will. Deep inside you know that you have to stay here.

It is safer. Safer for your friends.

It's hard to call them friends right now. Everyone feels like an enemy.

You pick yourself back up and move. You should keep moving. Your throat itches, but no amount of scratching alleviates the pain.

Eventually, you arrive at a forest. It's the first real change in scenery and the trees seem strangely familiar, though you're sure you've never been there before.

Your feet move on your own, but before you can enter the forest, you stop.

Something bothers you about it, but you can't put your finger on what it is. They look like normal trees, their leaves swaying in the wind and their lower halves of the trunks are black. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Maybe you should pull the Thar'galloth out of yourself, you consider in a fit of sudden soberness. It would be doable, though not easy.

The itch inside you increases again, slipping a little lower now, from your throat to your upper chest. You scratch, press your nails into the skin, but you can't reach the irritation.

Your feet walk into the woods. Cool air surrounds you as well as silence.

You no longer know how you could doubt these trees, for they are like you. Through their roots you feel their connection to each other. What started with a single plant has gradually spread to the others and possessed them all. Like a big family.

You know you are safe here and can catch your breath for a moment. You can rest now. Tired of running and fighting, you sit down under one of the trees, lean against it and close your eyes.

Stephen has followed the Anchor chain in his search for you, which he has made visible to himself. He can't sense your presence, it seems blocked. But this glowing link between you two is still better than any compass.

The team that was supposed to capture the demons is helping him search, but they are slower on foot. They don't have the advantage of flying.

Strange is tired; it is the middle of the night in New York. It's probably still due to his time from medical school that he can keep himself reasonably focused at any hour. Of course, the large cup of coffee he conjured up in his hand on the way also helps.

After what feels like an eternity - you had really put a big distance between you - he finds the forest and sees that the chain ends in there.

It's too dense to see anything in it, so he stops in front of it. But before he can walk into the woods, his cloak pulls him back in warning.

Strange turns his head to him questioningly.

"What is it?"

The red fabric flutters warningly on his shoulders, pulling him back even further as he tries to take another step forward.

"I've got to get in. She's in there."

But the cloak has a mind of its own and won't hear any of it. Just as Strange is about to start another discussion with the Cloak of Levitation, it suddenly shoots up and deflects a branch that strikes at it.

Then it pulls the Sorcerer Supreme to a safe distance.

He hadn't seen that coming.

Fine, if he can't go into the forest, he'll just relocate it. He starts a spell to split the rows of trees and clear a path to you.

Glowing orange rings form around his arms, and the ground begins to shake as he tries to reshape the landscape.

It's harder than it should be. It's as if something else is pushing against the magic, trying to hold the forest together.

It feels like Strange is trying to open a book whose cover is closed with a spring lock.

He increases his effort and cracks form in the earth, spreading to the forest and pushing some trees apart. Dust raises, obscuring the view. Then a loud cracking noise sounds and Stephen feels the resistance break.

One moment later, the spell is gone, and all is quiet again.

Strange waits until the dust settles and he gets a better view.

A narrow aisle has been broken into the forest. Not quite the effect he wanted, but he can work with that.

Between the trees he notices a movement and stands ready to attack. But then he recognizes the figure and drops his hands - but not yet his guard.

You step forward, looking around at what Strange has done.

Your eyes are still pitch black. Even more, Stephen notices that the same color has spread over your fingertips, which are constantly moving nervously.

Your hair is disheveled, as if you've rolled across the ground. But perhaps the most disturbing thing is your neck and chest area.

Your robe slipped and exposed some of your neckline. It is covered all over with red striae, almost scratched up bloody.

Strange purses his lips. He knows what he has to do.

"I'm going to get that Thar'galloth out of you, Y/N."

The glowing orange rings reappear around his arms, but this time with a different purpose.

"Go ahead and try, Strange." Your vocal cords are two graters, making a painful sound.

"For demons, it's Doctor Strange."

"I'll tell them."

You copy his spell and attack him. It's pure, wild instinct acting inside you. Your mind has been banished to a corner of your brain somewhere and is only partially aware of what is happening.

You hurl spells at Strange, which explode next to him. Thanks to his cloak, he dodges them and tries to catch you in a binding spell, but you escape.

He doesn't want to seriously hurt you, just incapacitate you and perform the extraction. You, on the other hand, fight like you mean it, because you don't care what happens to him.

During your training sessions together back home in the Sanctum, you also fought with each other, but you always held back. It was always more about exchanging and refining techniques.

If it wasn't so tragic at this moment, it would be quite interesting to see who had the upper hand in a real fight.

Strange uses the flying to his advantage. This makes it harder for you to reach him, while he is still in control of the area. In return, you stay in the shadow of the forest and its protection.

Stephen sends down several ball lightning-like attacks, one of which knocks you off your feet and hurls you into the dirt. Along with the dust, the metallic taste of blood spreads in your mouth.

The area around you looks like a battlefield with large craters and scorch marks.

You pick yourself up again and you try to create a large shield to protect yourself against the next attack, which will surely follow. But in the middle of the spell, you suddenly get stuck and have trouble moving your arms.

You look up and see that Strange has landed and is holding your spell, trying to take it over.

Enraged that he has mastered your technique, you roar, almost sounding like a wild animal. Strange is relentless, he has no intention of losing, and pushes your spell in the opposite direction to use it against you.

It's like your very first training session together, only with the roles reversed. You feel the magic slipping away and you can't hold it much longer.

Strange's raised hands are clenched into fists and he uses all his willpower.

You get another idea and a wide grin creeps onto your lips, giving your mouth a spooky appearance.

Suddenly you give in, just let the spell go, so that Strange, who hadn't expected it, stumbles.

Diving under half the shield, you make a move as if you were casting a net. A wide, magical hoop wraps around Strange's right wrist, spreading out to his fingertips.

Your spells, which used to glow so brightly, are now drenched in black, seeming to grow darker with each one.

Strange tries to shake off the hoop, to free himself from your magical grip. But you slowly close your fingers, pulling the hoop tighter around his hand. He cries out in pain as your steps lead you to him. You clearly hear the cracking of bones.

He sinks to one knee, gritting his teeth, but you show no mercy. You are ready to crush his hand completely.

You're about to pull his other hand into the same spell when something hits you in the side of the head, causing you to stumble.

You forgot the shield, still under the control of the Sorcerer Supreme, which he pulled up at the last moment, hitting you in the back. It distracts your attention enough that he scrambles back to his feet and immediately hits you twice more. First the shoulder, then the back of your knees, knocking you down.

Again you land face down on the ground and you lose the spell around his hand.

The next moment he's over you, grabbing you by the back collar and pulling you up. You resist, and a hand to hand fight ensues. He presses his right hand against his body, it’s useless in close combat.

This would give you an advantage if his cloak didn't help him and block many of your blows.

You lunge forward and feign a punch from your right. In mid-motion, however, you dive away downward, intending to ram your other fist into his stomach.

Strange dodges to the side and gives you a punch on your outstretched arm. Then he bumps your shoulder, making you stumble to the side, and puts his arm around your neck in a choke hold from behind.

Immediately he gets your elbow in the stomach twice in quick succession and you are able to squirm out of his grip. You follow up with another side-twisting kick, but he grabs your ankle and pushes it in another direction.

To keep from losing your balance, you hold onto his right shoulder. Pushing off on it, you jump up and swing your other leg over him so that you are now sitting on his left shoulder. Doing so, he has to let go of you and you take advantage of this to shift your weight and bring him down.

You succeed, but only halfway, because his cape wraps around your waist and throws you off. Then one of his corners slaps you across the face.

Strange is right back at you, and you don't know which one – Stephen or the cloak - grabs you, but you fly through the air in a high arc.

You want to turn, to catch yourself, but before you can, the large fabric wraps around you and constricts your movements. You feel yourself still flying, but can't see where.

Then you are thrown off in mid-flight and roll over grass after a short fall. Then you perceive your surroundings again and turn your head.

You see people in a wide circle around you and you recognize them despite their masked lower faces. It feels like ages since you've been with them, not just a few hours.

You want to jump up, use magic, but you can't move another muscle of your body. You notice glowing symbols on the ground, and realize you've been thrown into a binding circle. Right into the middle of a trap.

You angrily bare your teeth as Strange floats into your field of vision, the cloak back on his shoulders.

He signals to the others, whereupon you are grabbed by the shoulders and pulled to your knees. You can't see who it is because they stand behind you. Opening your mouth, you want to curse them, but no sound passes your lips. Not even that you’re able to do. Just watch and breathe.

You stare at Stephen hatefully, who is now hovering right over you. His face is smudged with dirt and blood from your fight, but he doesn't seem to care.

He places his injured right hand on top of your head, the other in front of your mouth.

If you could move, you'd bite his fingers.

"I'm not gonna lie, this is going to hurt," he informs you. Then he's already sending magic in between your clenched teeth, searching for the Thar'galloth.

You gag and want to spit, but the magic digs deeper, into your stomach and lungs, taking away your breath. Tears well up in your eyes and you scream silently.

Stephen has to pull himself together not to interrupt his work at the pitiful sight of you. He feels your pain in his own chest and also the conflict, but it also helps him to know where to look for the demon.

He finds it, seals it and pulls it. You feel like your guts are being ripped out alive. The grip around your shoulders tightens, and you're sure they're dislocating your arms in the process.

You feel like you're suffocating.

Then you notice something moving out of your mouth, see the black shadow. Your body no longer feels the need to keep conscious at all costs, and so you collapse, exhausted. This time, the hands that hold you down, prevent you from hitting the ground.

Strange sends the Thar'galloth back through a portal to Eastazan. Though he wouldn't have minded just crushing it right there.

But there are more important things for him to worry about.

The binding circle around you dissolves, and they want to pick you up to bring you back, but Strange gestures to them to stop.

"I'll take her."

Reese nods and steps back.

Despite his injured hand, Strange picks you up in his arms and returns to Kamar-Taj along with the group. All of them are tired and exhausted.

Chapter Text

When you wake up, you first think it's a morning like any other. You are lying in your bed and the sun is shining through the window with the plain curtains. But then you turn to your side and feel the pain in all your limbs. Your throat is dry and raw.
Someone has kindly placed a carafe of water and a cup by your bed. With slow movements, you pour yourself a drink and finish it in one go.

Afterwards, you feel a little better.

Vague memories come back to you: the search for the Thar'galloth, falling off some kind of cliff, clashing with the demon... after that, everything is foggy. But the fact that you're lying here in your bed, alive, must mean that everything went well. More or less.
You notice that your bedroom door is ajar, and you’re considering going downstairs when Wong enters. He was nearby and heard the noises.

"You're finally awake," he notes, eyeing you.

"How long was I gone?"

"Almost two days. How are you feeling?"

"Been better. What happened?"

"Ask Strange."

You're not sure if that answer should reassure you. Somehow, it doesn't.
"Where is he?" you therefore want to know.

"I sent him to bed. That probably won't stop him from checking up on you again soon, though."

You merely nod and reach for the water again. Your throat hurts from talking, and you want to go easy on it for a bit.
Wong makes sure your carafe is refilled, and then walks out. It's unusual for you to see him so reserved, but you mentally push that aside for now and set about examining yourself.
On your arms you notice a few pale scars from magically healed wounds. They will disappear within the next few days. Your shoulders hurt and are very tense. But worst of all is your chest. It hurts all the way up to your throat, with red scratch marks on your skin. You darkly remember causing this.

From the hallway, you hear footsteps approaching quickly, but slowing down just outside your room. Then Strange is standing in the doorway. He looks tired, and also a little disheveled, like he just got up.
"You're awake. How are you feeling?"

You have a moment of déja vu, having just answered this question.
"I'm okay," you croak and straighten up a little, signifying for him to take a seat on the bed. But he makes a chair appear, which he sits in instead.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I'm not sure...just parts of it."
You clear your throat and reach for the water. This reminds Stephen of something.

"Ah... right!" A dark vial appears in his hand. "Your mother sends you this. You're supposed to drink it when you're awake."

You take the vial and open it to smell it. The scent of meadow herbs rises and you down the liquid.
The thick substance settles soothingly on your irritated throat.
"Thanks." Immediately, you notice how talking becomes easier for you. "Um, so...did I do anything… well, bad?"
That's the question that's bothering you the most. To your reassurance, Strange shakes his head.

"Fortunately, nothing else happened, except that you destroyed the landscape and deprived me of sleep."

You breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry I had to treat you so roughly, by the way," he adds. "If I'd been quicker, you'd be feeling better."

You stare at him.
"You're kidding, right? I'm grateful to you for removing the demon from me. Really! Who knows what else I would have done."
Where you might have gone. You wouldn't have forgiven yourself if someone had come to serious harm.

"Master Reese told me how it happened," Stephen says. "It was pretty unfortunate."

You don't know what to say, so there is a pause.
Meanwhile, you are still reconstructing the facts in your head. Snippets of memories keep popping up and distracting you.
Your gaze is unfocused on Stephen and you notice that he is not wearing his gloves today. Instead, he has a bandage wrapped around his right hand.
Suddenly you remember why.

"That was me!" you gasp and look at him in horror. You want to reach for his hand, but he pulls it back.
You had broken his fingers, willfully and on purpose. Taking advantage of the most vulnerable point he possesses. And you remember that you had wanted to go even further.
"I'm so sorry."
Your voice is nothing more than a whisper. You can't think of anything to say to make it up to him.

Stephen is sensitive about his fingers anyway, and you betrayed his trust.
But contrary to your expectations, he doesn't jump up angrily or curse. He remains seated quite calmly, and after a brief hesitation, he places his injured hand on yours.

"I had a healer fix it. It'll be back to the way it was in a few days," he explains to you as you carefully stroke his scarred fingers, careful not to hurt him. "I know it wasn't you, but the Thar'galloth."

You're not so sure, as you remember casting the spell. But you are infinitely grateful for his answer and accept it without argument. You fight the urge to take his hands to your lips and place a kiss on them.
Instead, you smile faintly, and while his hand remains in yours, he tells you what happened from his perspective of the events.

How he woke up at night because an alarm inside him told him that something was very, very wrong with you. He immediately followed the anchor chain and arrived in the Jade Valley.
When you fled, he searched for hours.
The group of sorcerers came up with the plan to lure you into a binding circle. They found you in the possessed forest and the battle broke out. But Stephen was able to extract the demon from you and took you to the healers to Kamar-Taj and later back to New York.

Stephen leaves out that the healers in Kathmandu had been quite worried when you wouldn't wake up at first. Or that he himself had sat by your side the whole time, and later even dozed off at your bedside, until Wong finally sent him away. But he had to promise Strange to let him know immediately if your condition changed.

He is very glad that you have regained consciousness.
"You should rest for a few more days," he ends his explanation.

You can only agree with that. You don't feel like making any big leaps.

Strange gets up to give you some rest. But you have one last question.

"Who changed me into this?" you want to know, pointing to your nightgown, which you've never seen before.

"Magic," Stephen winks from the door, which he then closes as he leaves.

You settle back into your pillows to get some more sleep. Not, however, without first changing into something more to your liking and less victorian.

After a few days of bed rest, you are fit enough to go back to your work and studies.
In Kamar-Taj you give a few lessons again. Before that, however, you seek out the people from the Jade Valley team and apologize for causing them concern.
Reese gives you a brotherly pat on the back and admits in return that he didn't like dislocating your shoulder, but that makes you even. You can live with that.
Of course, there is some gossip going around, but you know that it will pass. You can't please everyone anyway.
Soon you're back to your usual routine.

At harvest time, you visit your mother to help her with it. And of course bring back baskets of fruit and vegetables to the Sanctum. The rest of it that she doesn't need, you deliver to Kamar-Taj.

Only one thing has changed: Stephen has become much more open with you.
You don’t notice it right away, but there are little hints. More and more often, you eat your meals together or work on your own studies in the same room. It’s comfortable. You find out that he mumbles softly to himself when he is very absorbed into a book. It's a pleasant background noise for you and it makes you smile.
It's almost as if he has suddenly decided that you are a crucial part of his life, and enjoys spending time with you. He even approached you of his own accord to continue taking care of his hands. Before, you had to chase him every time with the ointment.

The family recipe worked. The blood circulation in his fingers returned, and they are no longer ice cold when you touch them. More and more often you see him without his yellow gloves.
All of this would all be a wonderful change, if you hadn't developed feelings for him in the process.
Since the revelation of the Anchor you had felt a connection to him - that’s probably also the purpose of this whole thing.
But it has changed, intensified. Stephen moved slowly into your heart, bit by bit, claiming it for himself But it's also hard to be immune to it when you live and work with someone who is good-looking, has a sense of humor and is intelligent. You realize this would become a problem.

"Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

You startle out of your thoughts and notice Stephen frowning at you.
"Hmm, what?"

"I asked if you wanted white toast or if you prefer whole wheat."

You're standing in the aisle of a supermarket because you're grocery shopping. Stephen holds up the two packages, and you point to the first one you see.

"That one."

"Wrong. Whole wheat is much healthier."
He tosses the other package into the cart and puts the white toast back.
Both of you wear civilian clothes. It looks good on Strange, you think, gives him a certain casualness. Still, you like his robe better. It suits his character more.

Even in the frozen food section, you're listening to him only with half an ear and not noticing how he keeps glancing at you.

"What's wrong?" he finally asks you just before the checkouts.

"Nothing."

"Come on, even without this," he puts a hand to his chest, "it's obvious something's bothering you."
Unfortunately, Stephen has also gotten a lot better at reading you since he's been making an effort.

"It's really nothing," you say again. "Just some thoughts I need to sort out."

He seems satisfied with that. For now.

"I need to go to the butcher," you remember as you leave the store.

"Sure, we have time."

"You don't have to come. I'll meet you back at the Sanctum."
It's not nice the way you brush him off, but you just need physical distance from him right now. It's too much for you to have him in your head and right next to you.
So you ditch him and walk down the street in the opposite direction.

Meat is not cheap, especially in this city. But you've found a butcher where you can pick up leftovers every now and then.
It's for my dog, you once told him. He didn't look like he cared.

Today you get a bag full of entrails and pig ears, fortunately well packaged.

You take your time on the way home, because you're in no hurry to get there.

~~

You are making your way through the hallways of the Sanctum when Strange calls out to you and steps through one of the doors.

"Wong has deciphered another ritual from the nameless book. Will you help me try it out?"

The two men came across an untitled book in some corner of the house some time ago, the contents of which no app or anyone they knew could translate. Ambitious as they are, they set to work on it by themselves, but progressed very slowly.
Strange, in particular, wanted to know what was in it. Wong was more careful not to accidentally conjure up any danger in the process.
The last ritual they tried made all the doors of the Sanctum Sanctorum into a kind of room roulette, so that when you opened one you didn't know which room was behind them. It took them four days to undo it, and you almost went crazy because a door rarely led to the same room twice in a row.
In the end, you came up with the idea of opening and closing the same door until it showed the room you wanted to go into. There are a lot of rooms in this building. It was very frustrating when you were in a hurry.

"Sure, how about tomorrow? I want to take Cal for a ride."
You demonstratively hold up the bag of raw food for your Levion.

"Alright, have fun. Be careful he doesn't eat you."

"He’d never."

"I don't see how you can be so sure of that," Strange turns away, shaking his head, and heads back to his study.

"I’m too small to be a good meal for him," you call after him. "You, on the other hand, are definitely just the right size for a snack."
Grinning, you continue on your way, heading for three large windows at the end of an upstairs hallway. The Rotunda of Gateways, which lead to various locations on Earth.

In the left window, you see a jungle: tall, narrow trees overgrown with vines and giant ferns that almost seem to stick out the window into the hallway. If you hold your ear a little closer, you can hear the screeching of monkeys somewhere in the distance.

The middle window shows a sea with gentle waves, a beautiful beach and endless dunes. Perfect for a vacation day. The scent of salty water rises, and you decide to save it for another time. For today, however, it's not the right place.

Neither is the window on the right, through which you see only a white desert of ice.
You press a mechanism on the side and the scenery in the last window changes a few times until it shows a vast steppe landscape. There you jump in.
The air is warm and dry, a nice change from the cold New York, though you realize you didn't consider the climate in your choice of clothes. You take off your kimono-like jacket and now stand there in your sleeveless undershirt. There is light grass, some bushes and very rarely a tree.
You've been here many times with Callum, and you both like it.

You summon him from his world, and he appears at your side.
"Hey big boy, did you miss me?"
You pat some dirt off his fur as he looks curiously to see if you brought him any treats. It was probably a mistake to condition Callum to get food every time you called him.
"Work now, food later," you remind him, tying a rope around his neck and chest, "We'll have a nice ride first."
It's easier for you if you have something to hold onto while you ride, because he understandably doesn't like it when you dig your fingers into his skin.

You swing onto his back and gently press your heels into his sides, whereupon he starts moving.
You're in no hurry, so he walks comfortably, stretching his legs and prancing a little to the side every now and then. You let him run as and where he wants to warm up.
At some point you notice that he is getting faster and takes over the lead. Callum has always had far too much energy, which he is now allowed to get rid of.
The wind rushes through your hair and you close your eyes for a moment. A feeling of endless freedom washes over you.
The Levion is reaching its full speed, you feel its muscles working under you, but it feels so effortless. You lean forward, close to his neck, to keep your balance and make it easier for him.
The landscape races past you, mere color schemes of ochre, brown and green at the edge of your field of vision.
You let Callum run as long as his stamina lasts, steering him just a little so that you don't stray too far from the window, but make large circuits around it instead.

Eventually he slows down again, then drops into a comfortable trot and shakes his neck. You pat him in praise.
You two return, with him picking up speed again in between. But not as long this time.

Back at the starting point, you dismount. Now Callum finally gets his well-deserved meal. You unknot the bag from the butcher and empty the contents onto the floor.
"Here you go. Enjoy your meal."

Immediately, the Levion makes a beeline for it.
In the meanwhile, you drink some water and adjust your clothes, which have slipped a bit from the ride, until Callum nudges you with his muzzle, demanding attention.
"Finished already?"
Laughing, you watch as Callum rolls contentedly on the ground. He's like a playful dog in that way. Except he's still the size of a horse.
Since he's quite slender, it's also easy to forget how strong the Levion actually is. Not for nothing had he kept the hellhounds in New York at bay.
Laughing, you rub his upturned belly, which makes him one happy Levion.

~~

As promised, you meet Stephen the next day, and you both go downstairs to the basement.

In the basement of the Sanctum are several rooms with stone walls and floors for casting spells that could become dangerous for wood or other easily combustible materials.
Stephen has chosen a narrow room with a stone table in the middle, on which he places the translation of the nameless book and another one from the library. The latter he flips through.

"What does the new ritual do?" you want to know.

"It's a protective spell. A kind of woven barrier. It takes several people to do it."
He found the page he was looking for. Glancing into the book, you see that it's instructions on various weaving techniques. He points at one.
"We're going to try this one. It shouldn't be too hard.”

He explains the translated text to you. The spell is rather simple: you create magical threads that you weave and intertwine. First each separately, then both your works are joined together and stretched around the object to be protected. For this, Strange has placed a clay jar on the floor.
You line up in front of each other and touch hands. Stephen is not wearing his gloves, and you feel his skin.

"Ready?"

You nod, banishing thoughts of him from your mind so you don't get distracted. It's not so easy, since he's standing right in front of you.

You move your fingers into different positions, mirroring each other's movements, then release your hands from each other. Luminous strings form, which you reach for, divide and interlace them in various ways. You proceed slowly, because it is important that the result is absolutely symmetrical. Therein lies the difficulty of the spell.

The beginning of two identical, complex patterns forms in the air between, but then you don't pay proper attention for a moment and drop a thread.

"Damn!"

You could keep going, but with a hole, the protection is ineffective. So you start all over again.
You take a deep breath and Stephen takes your hands again. You notice that they smell like tea tree oil and lavender, and your heart gives a little jump.
Don’t get distracted!

You two restart the spell. Now that you know what to do, it’s easier, the movements becoming more fluid.

Until you make another mistake.

Annoyed with yourself, you brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Focus," Stephen reminds you.

"I am focusing."

In truth, it's getting harder and harder to stay concentrated. The room is quite small and Stephen is too close in your personal space. His gaze is on you, you breathe in his scent, and even if you could close your eyes while doing this spell, you would feel his presence clearly next to you.
He is just too much right now.

After a few more unsuccessful attempts, you make a frustrated sound.
"Sorry, I guess I'm no help today. You better ask Wong," you grumble.

"Are you sure?"
Stephen looks at you, but you avoid his eyes, unable to look at him. Instead, you apologize again and leave.

So it's really gotten to the point where your feelings are negatively affecting your abilities. Why can't you just pull yourself together in his presence?
You go up to the roof of the Sanctum to get some fresh air.
It can't go on like this. Maybe you've spent too much time in the Sanctum Sanctorum. Since the incident with the Thar'galloth, you've rarely been in Kamar-Taj, and you've neglected your other social contacts as well.
You were too absorbed in the world of Stephen Strange. Maybe it's time for a little distance.
You look at the city from above. It got cold, autumn is almost over.
You're rarely out in New York these days. Mostly when there is some work to do. You should change that, after all, it's a big city that has a lot to offer. And it's not healthy to sit in dusty rooms all day, even if the company looks good.

In the coming days, you increase the number of classes you give in Kamar-Taj to five a week. And you try to meet friends from there or the other two sanctums more often.
It's good to hear other voices again, to see familiar faces, to hear new opinions. It's perfect to take your inner focus off Stephen.
Because of the time difference of almost ten hours, you leave New York in the morning, when evening is already falling in Kathmandu and return late at noon.
For your studies, you seek out the other two sanctums more and more often, with the weak excuse of wanting to broaden your horizons.
So you are home only quite rarely and mostly just to sleep.

Of course Stephen notices the change, but he gives you space and busies himself with his own tasks. After all, there‘s always some kind of work for the Sorcerer Supreme.

Chapter Text

It’s early in the evening and you're standing in front of the mirror in a pretty dress, fixing your hair.
A friend from the London Sanctum, whom you've known for many years, recently asked you about your current dating situation. And since you told her you weren't seeing anyone, she suggested a blind date. She knew someone perfect for you. Her words.

This someone is Liam, a nice British man, who has been living in New York for a few years. Your friend had shown you a photo of him beforehand so it’s only technically a blind date. He is a few years older than you and - according to her - exactly your type.

The catch: he doesn’t know about magic.

Maybe this is the reason why you agreed to meet him. You've lived in the non-magical world before, maybe it would be nice to dive into it again.
Besides, what better way to distract yourself from someone than to meet someone else?
That's why you're now wearing an elegant dress, stressing about what shoes to choose to go with it. Liam has invited you to an art opening and of course you want to be dressed well for the occasion. Even if the date goes badly, you can still say that you looked really good while failing.

Finally you're satisfied with the way you look. You grab your jacket and head down to the grand entrance hall. For the occasion, you've even ordered a cab, which is now waiting outside.
You meet Wong and Stephen on the grand staircase. They’ve probably tried another spell from the nameless book downstairs. Hopefully the doors aren't jinxed again.

"I'm going out today. Don't wait up for me," you call out to them as you pass by.

Since you avoid looking directly at Stephen, you don't notice that he stopped open-mouthed at the sight of you.

Your dress looks great on you, accentuating just the right spots and showcasing your curves without showing too much. It is unusual to see you in this kind of clothes and it’s such a surprise to Stephen, that he doesn't even notice Wong has already reached the top of the stairs. Waiting, he turns to him.

"Strange!"

The Sorcerer Supreme startles out of his thoughts. You're already out the front door, but he hasn't been able to avert his gaze.
He catches up to Wong and sees his disapproving glance.

"What?" he asks, but Wong merely shakes his head and continues walking.

The art gallery in the Upper East End.
As you exit the cab, you see Liam already waiting for you at the door. You greet each other with a hug and enter the studio. He holds the door open for you.
You drop off your jackets at the coat check and he compliments you on your dress.

Champagne and a non-alcoholic option is served by waiters and you each grab a glass. From there, you enter a large, bright room divided by white screens into smaller displays. There are photographs, paintings and sculptures in various styles.

Chatting quietly, you stroll through the exhibition, stopping sometimes here, sometimes there to take a closer look at a piece of art. It's easy to strike up a conversation, and you think this is a pretty good place for a first date. You talk about the art you're seeing, get a feeling for each other.

Gradually, your conversation gets a little more personal. Liam tells you that he's a photographer and came to New York two years ago for a job. He liked the city so much that he just stayed.
It doesn't surprise you that he's an artist too. Somehow he has this creative aura.

"Is some of your art here, too?" you ask him.

"Oh, no," he laughs. "I guess that would be pretty self-centered of me to take you to my own exhibition the first time we meet."

You can't argue with that.

"And what do you do for a living?" he wants to know.

"I'm a historian of ancient cultures."
That's probably the closest to the truth, if you subtract the whole crazy magic thing. It's also not a lie that you met your mutual friend during college.

"That sounds exciting! When I was a kid, I was totally fascinated by ancient Greece and I loved their myth."

"Greek myths are cool. However, my field’s so old that some of the languages aren't even spoken anymore."

Liam makes you promise to show him your work soon. He is otherwise quite interested, although you assure him that it's probably only half as exciting as it sounds.

You spend a nice evening together.
Later hors d'oeuvre are served, but you two decide you're way hungrier and you leave the gallery to sit down at a nearby deli that's still open. You're probably totally overdressed, but you don't mind because you're having a good time.
It's the middle of the night when you return to the Sanctum.

~~

A morning a few weeks later

Yawning, you roll out of bed.

You've been teaching late classes at Kamar-Taj the last two nights. Your schedule is more exhausting than you thought.
You get dressed and slip into your shoes while you think about whether you should get breakfast here or maybe meet a friend for dinner in Kathmandu. Whereas you've been traveling back and forth so much lately, you don't mind a break and rather stay in New York.

It’s your free day and you could spend it at the library catching up on your studies or you could go to a café and enjoy the muggle world for a while.
Lately you've been drawn there more often. Maybe it's because of Liam, who you've met up with a few more times since the art opening.

You go to the kitchen of the Sanctum.
On the way there, you overhear Stephen and Wong discussing in one of the relic rooms, but you ignore it, since it's too early for that.
Food first.
You grab a pan and prep an omelet.
With your plate in one hand and a fork in the other, you eat and go back to the two men, who are still arguing.

"...a burglary is therefore impossible."

"Relics don't just disappear!"

"What's going on?" you ask them, and they turn their heads toward you. You’re leaning against the frame of the large double door, shoveling an egg into your mouth.

"The Feather Boots are gone," Stephen explains, pointing at an empty display case that still looks very much intact. "And there's no sign of an intruder or magic."

"That's odd," you comment.

"Yes, thank you. We know that."

"Maybe we should get a...," Wong starts, but then something catches his eye and he stops. He nudges Strange, who now notices it too, and they both stare at you.

You blink back in confusion.
"What? Do I have something on my face?"

Stephen points at your feet and you look down.

"What are those?" you ask, dumbfounded, as you realize you’re not wearing your regular shoes.

"The Feather Boots."

You look up at the men.
"I swear, I have no idea why I'm wearing them."
You were so tired when you got up, you hadn't paid attention while getting dressed. But surely you would have noticed if you had new shoes in your room. Wouldn't you?

At least everyone is reassured that the relic has appeared. So only one question remains.

"How did they end up in my room? Boots don't walk on their own." You look at Wong. "Do they walk on their own?"

He looks at your feet thoughtfully.
"While wearing the Feather Boots you can walk on any kind of surface. However, yes, there are some relics that show a will of their own."

He glances at Strange, whose cloak is not on his shoulders right now for once. The Sorcerer Supreme nods in agreement.
You set your plate aside to look at the boots up closely. They go up to your calf and are cut quite narrow. On the outer sides, there are feather-like outlines burned in, which is probably part of the name giving. They feel very comfortable and light on your feet. Maybe that's why you didn't notice them at first.

"Try it."

You nod and walk to a wall where you place one foot. As you shift your weight, you realize that you have support there. It’s like gravity shifts with you by 90 degrees. It feels weird but with some practice, it shouldn't be a problem.
Carefully, you take a few steps upwards and shortly after you’re standing on the ceiling directly above Stephen and Wong.
"Now I can finally clean the dust off the lamps," you grin down at the two of them.

"A worthy use for an ancient, magical relic," Wong comments dryly.

You gesture for them to step aside, then leap down from the ceiling with a back flip. You stumble as you hit the floor, but catch yourself before you fall. Yep, you definitely need some practice there.

As planned, you spend the afternoon in the library, where you make yourself comfortable in one of the arm chairs and browse through an old scroll of poetry.
You happen to find the copy on one of the back shelves. Your mother used to read them to you as a child, although you didn’t understand most of the poems back then.
Now, you discover some beautiful verses, but, honestly, most of them are still a mystery to you. It probably doesn't help much that they are originally written in Lycian, a language that has long died out.

When you've had enough of the poetry, you roll up the scroll again and reach for the Anchor book Wong gave you once. You haven’t read it since the revelation and maybe it can give you some answers. Even though you’re not sure what questions you have.

As you read some things become clearer to you, and you understand the connection between you and Stephen better, now that you have gained some experience.
Still, it doesn't help you with your feelings about Stephen. Instead, you question whether they really come from you or are just a consequence of the Anchor.

According to the book, a strong bond between the Anchor and the Sorcerer Supreme is not unusual. However, that doesn't mean they necessarily fall in love. It can also be a bond of companionship or like siblings.
It all depends on the two people filling the roles. One example even mentions twins. You guess you're just unlucky to develop one sided feelings for your Sorcerer Supreme. Stephen doesn't give the impression of having any special interest in you beyond work.

A few pages further on, you'll find the ritual for cutting the connection. That’s still a backup plan; you don’t have to remain the Anchor. You can leave and sort out your feelings. Maybe move to Kamar-Taj or even to the London or Hong Kong Sanctum. There you would have distance from Stephen.
If you quit being the Anchor, another one would have to be found, of course. Not necessarily immediately, but sooner or later. Someone who matched Stephen's magic will be chosen.
Jealousy rises in you at the thought of another person being so close to him, being on the other end of the chain. You hate the idea.

Sighing, you put the book aside. You won’t get anywhere with brooding. So you take a break and fix yourself some tea.

Chapter Text

You step out of the cool halls of the Met Museum into sunshine. It's only noon and quite a warm day for this time of year. You've spent the last few hours at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, wandering through the various exhibitions.
Since the exhibition you went with Liam to, you've somehow acquired a liking for art. You especially like older works. Living in Kathmandu and the Sanctums, you're used to ancient relics, but they all had a practical use. It's different to look at things simply for their beauty.

Manhattan is crowded with people, especially here near Central Park, so you don't want to risk attracting attention with a portal. So you’re taking the Subway to the south and get off near Washington Square Park with just a few blocks to walk left.
You're thinking about your plans for the next day when you hear loud screaming nearby.

Like the people around you, you look up, startled. But unlike them, you run in the direction of the crashing noises, while the rest hurry to get away.

You've gone a block when you’re seeing the Iron Man suit flying by. Two blocks more before you see who he's after: a person whose right arm consists of three robotic tentacle arms, who is using them to climb straight up the wall of a tall apartment building. Doing so parts of bricks keep falling down onto the sidewalk and parked cars.
From somewhere else the person is shot at with arrows, but they are repelled by one of the tentacles. In their left hand they carry some kind of briefcase or something similar. They’re too high for you to see well.

At the top of the roof, another person appears, looking down. Then more tentacle arms that start throwing things at Iron Man. Heavy things like bricks or pieces of metal struts.
You back away behind a car.

Since the Avengers are present, they'd deal with whatever is going on, you figure. They are, after all, known for saving the city publicly, while the masters of the Mystic Arts keep a low profile and operate in the background.
There are a few passersby on the sidewalks. Most of them quickly moved into the small stores, but some are still trying to leave the area. And then there are the unfortunates who are stuck in their cars and can't move because the road is blocked.

You hear a metallic crash from the other side of the street, and, in the next moment, a ripped-out streetlight flies through the air in the direction of Iron Man. In mid-flight, it's hit by a round shield with a silver star that comes shooting at it like a Frisbee.
Metal meets metal and the streetlamp lands in the window of a third floor. Shards of glass explode and trickle down to the sidewalk, where a woman stands looking around frantically. She hears the noise, looks up, and screams before raising her arms protectively over her head.
But by then you have summoned a shield over her, on which the splinters bounce off.

So much for keeping a low profile. Quickly, you run over to her to get her out of the way.
"Ma'am, you shouldn't stay here."
Friendly, but firm, you want to pull her off the street, but she doesn't move.

"I can’t find my daughter!" She is on the verge of tears. "She was just holding my hand."

"Okay, we'll find her."
Nearby, it's already raining debris and dust again, and you're now vigorously pulling the lady into the nearest building entrance out of harm's way. Doing so, you snatch a loose hair from her for a spell.
"What's your daughter's name?" you ask the woman.

"Emily, she's seven, and we were going shopping for her birthday next week."

You nod in understanding.
"Don't worry. I'm sure Emily is safe. We’ll find her in no time," you promise so confidently that the woman calms down a bit.
Since the child can't be far away yet, it probably won't be difficult to track her down. You take the hair and perform a modified tracking spell.
Some glowing golden symbols appear in the air, forming an arrow above your open hand.
"This way."

The woman looks at your spell in amazement, but you pull her along with you and follow the given direction. The arrow is like a compass pointing to Emily.

You find the girl just a few blocks away sitting and crying on the stairs of a Subway station. Gladly, mother and daughter embrace each other.

"Thank you," the woman then turns to you, "Are you an Avenger?"

"No, I'm just helping out," you say. "It's best to do the shopping another time. Where do you live? I'll get you both home safely."

"Bushwick, Brooklyn."

You create a portal, and after a moment's hesitation and another thank you, the two of them step through. You jog back into the attacked street.

The battle moved a few blocks away, but you stay here and help a cab driver get out of his demolished car. Three of his four doors are stuck and the last one is lying ripped out on the asphalt. The man has just minor injuries to his arm and shoulder. Your healing skills are not the best, but it is enough to close the wounds.
You hear a noise above and when you raise your head you see the streetlight on the third floor moving dangerously in the wind. You bring it down with magic and place it on the street before it can fall on someone's head.

So you go on, doing what you can to help. That’s until some large black vans stop nearby and some serious looking people get out. There is something military about their uniforms, but there is no logo. Could be S.H.I.E.L.D.

That's your cue to leave, because you don't feel like talking to them.
So you slip through a few back alleys, fixing your dusty face and clothes with magic along the way, until you're standing on one of the main streets.

Here, there is no sign of the danger you just encountered. The cars are driving normally – with a lot of honking – and even the people, who are always in a hurry anyway, seem to have noticed nothing of the nearby destruction.
You slow your pace and immerse yourself in the crowd as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. No superheroes to see here, Sir.

On your way to the Sanctum you come across one of the city's many coffee shops and you decide you've earned a small reward in the form of a mug of coffee and some pastries.

Shortly after, you are back home and seek out the others to discuss the incident with them.
Wong comes out of the kitchen looking just as dusty and dirty as you did earlier. So does Stephen, sitting at the small table with a steaming cup.
He looks up as you enter, and you notice that he also has some cuts on his face.

"Want me to take a look at that?" you ask him.

He looks at your everyday clothes you wore to the Met today and at the Starbucks cup in your hand.
"Did you meet with Luke?"
His tone is chilly, almost reproachful, and you don't like it at all.

"His name's Liam," you therefore correct him, dumping the empty paper bag in the trash. "So what if?"

"Nothing. We had everything under control and didn't need any help anyway."
Now he's clearly being sarcastic.

"All right then," you reply, perhaps a touch too bitchy.
You don’t know where his rude behavior is coming from, or why. But you’re in no mood for it. So you turn around and head back out, leaving him alone.

~~

You leave your date with Liam earlier than planned.
All evening, you've had a strange feeling that something's been wrong. You can't exactly put your finger on it, it’s more likely a presentiment of danger.

Even so, you’re fine about leaving early. Liam is a nice guy, but you don’t think it’s serious between the two of you. Also, you don't like the fact that you have to hide pretty much half your life from him.
Your relationship with Stephen hasn't improved either, unfortunately.
You're not even sure why. He seems to always be in a bad mood whenever you return to the Sanctum. And you have been fighting about the stupidest things wherefore you decided to keep more distance from each other.
It hurts you, there's no denying that. Yet you don't know how to fix it. Maybe you are too stubborn, but you don't see yourself in the wrong.

Arriving back at the Sanctum, you change into your robes while looking for Wong. Stephen is not home, his aura had already left Earth a few hours ago.
"Wong." You find the master by the relics. "Did anything unusual happen today?"

He turns to you, frowning.
"The most unusual thing is you asking me this question."

Well, then, nothing bad had happened, you guess, and you're reassured. Maybe you were worried for no reason.
"Some hellhounds have escaped, but Strange is taking care of it,” he tells you then.

"Again? Where?"

"In a world that lies between their Hell and Earth."

"Is Stephen fighting them alone?" you want to know.

"He's the Sorcerer Supreme who's defeated Dormammu all by himself. He'll be able to catch a few stray dogs. His words, not mine."

Yeah, that sounds like Stephen. And he's right: Stephen is quite capable of accomplishing that.
If he's on another plane of worlds and you wanted to help him, it would take quite a while to find him anyway. By that time, he probably will be back. Besides, he could have asked you or someone else for assistance if he needed any.

So you let it go, but the uneasy feeling in your chest remains.

~~

Stephen throws a hellhound off him using magic, but the huge beast turns in midair and lands on its paws, running right back at him, teeth bared. Strange flies out of the way, creating a golden rope around its neck and legs, bringing it down before tying it up like a slain deer.

Number two done, two to go.

These hellhounds here are just as ugly as the ones in New York. He even thinks he recognizes one from back then.

But since the last encounter, he did his homework and is now better prepared. All he has to do is immobilize them, then he can send them back to their hell dimension without any further problems. They just have to stay away from fire.
A dog stands below him, growls and tries to jump up to him, but he is just out of range. Strange slams a force field on its snout the next time it jumps, making it yowl.
"Bad dog! Sit!"

Unfortunately, the hound doesn't listen to him, and tries to bite him more aggressively.

They're currently in a world that's nothing but barren rocks and dirt. If it wasn't so close to earth, he wouldn't even care. But he doesn't want to see the dogs terrorizing the streets of New York anytime soon.

Suddenly, something big jumps onto him from the side, yanks him to the ground and sinks its sharp teeth into his arm.
He forgot to keep an eye on Number Four and now he pays the price. Number Three is at its side, grabs Stephen's leg, and the two dogs try to pull him in half.
He hears the tearing of cloth. Roaring with pain, Stephen lets loose a blast wave that whirls the two creatures away from him. Breathing heavily, he rises and tries to float out of reach. But he only falteringly makes it up halfway a cliff, while his cloak is having a hard time flapping.
Turning his head, Stephen sees a large tear from the bottom to the middle of the red fabric. This is not good. He moves further away from the animals before the Sorcerer Supreme lands ungracefully on the cliff.
"You'll get patched up back home, but for now I still need you," he mutters to both the cloak and himself.

His arm is bleeding. He can ignore the pain for now, but he has to hurry.

Placing his hands together and then making some gestures, he shifts reality. Rocks fold up, rearranging themselves. The sky disappears and the ground opens up. The dogs fall, not knowing what is happening to them. They try to get a grip on the rocky ground, but to no avail. One stumbles against the other, and they’re trapped in the moment.

Strange keeps control, sending them through endless tunnels made of the previous environment. Down is up, and up is left. At one point, even the direction of fall seems to change.
The creatures bump into a rough stone, scraping their already half-burned skin even further. Then they hit the ground with a loud thud and they just lie unconscious for the moment. Soft yelps can be heard.
One of the dogs legs are still magically bound. The shackle of the second one has been loosened by the fall, but it is still unable to move.
Stephen steps beside them and opens a portal to the hell dimension.

This is a little more difficult than usual, because the dimension belongs to Dormammu's realm. It's one world of many, unfortunately, and he definitely doesn't want anything to come out of there. So the portal must be a one-way door, and he must keep it stable while taking care of the dogs.
But he wouldn't be Stephen Strange if he wasn't able to get a pair of helping hands.

Literally.

A second set of arms appears among his own and takes care of the portal while he throws the bound hellhound through it with a spell. The second one follows right behind, but the third hound is already back on its feet.

Unfortunately, these bastards are incredibly robust.
Another dog struggles to its feet, shakes its head, and then leaps at Strange. He fends it off, but the dog is bigger and stronger and really angry.
"You probably can't get me out of range, can you?"
The cloak moves, whereupon Strange hears another soft tearing sound, then it’s quiet again.
"I figured," he mutters.
The fourth hellhound is snarling at him and Strange is attacked from two sides.

He tries to move the portal to the hellhounds, but unfortunately the magic isn’t stable enough. So he closes it and uses all of his four arms to defend himself.
The left dog jumps right into a spell that freezes him in his movement midair for a while. This gives Strange time to dodge the attack of the second hound. He fends it off with a shield and strikes back, but with little success. Enraged, the creature lets out its loud bark, which goes through and through Strange's spine.

Stephen is out of breath. His injuries are bleeding, but he grits his teeth. There is no time for a break.

Again and again the animals try to bite him, hunting him as prey.
Trapped to the ground, he tries to keep them at bay and knock them out at the same time. But their stamina seems endless. Several times they get far too close to him.
Strange creates a new portal to the hell dimension and tries to lure the dogs through. He throws out his golden rope like a lasso and catches one of the dogs. But instead of using his weight to pull it back, he runs toward the dog and jumps onto the animal's back.
Immediately it stops rooted to the spot, snapping at him and trying to hit him with its hind paws to get him off. But Strange dodges it and at the same time he kicks the hound violently in the ribs with his heels so that it takes a leap and starts moving again. Now all he has to do is to steer it to the portal.

The other dog appears, bares its teeth, and both animals bite each other. Stephen uses his magic to separate them, because he doesn't want to get between their teeth under any circumstances.

The portal is now in front of him.
The dog runs towards it. Stephen makes the rope disappear and jumps up at the last moment, while the hellhound runs through. Strange spins as he jumps, hovering in place - the cape still managed as much - as something hits him.
The last hellhound, following the other one and not letting Strange out of his sight, jumps at him and grabs the red cloth. And it pulls Stephen through the portal into hell.

Chapter Text

Strange hits the ground hard and is dragged along by the hellhound a bit before he loses his cloak and comes to a halt.
This is not good. In fact, it's pretty bad.

He gets back on his feet and looks around in hell. He’s standing on a stony hill with many dark rocks and sharp edges in the ground. Further down, he can make out a lava lake. Overall, the world seems to live up to its name.
The smell of sulfur is in the air and smoke rises from deep crevices and cracks everywhere.
The hellhound that dragged him along shakes and tugs at the cloak, but soon realizes that there is nothing to get. So he drops it and looks around. Fire lights up in his open chest and his black saliva is also about to ignite from his breath.

Stephen needs to get out of here immediately.

His extra pair of arms is gone, as is the portal. But with all the animals back where they belong, all he has to do is grab his cape and leave.
He creates a shield and moves forward.
The hellhound runs toward him and spits a jet of fire at him, but Strange dodges and dives under the beast. He jumps back to his feet on the other side and keeps running. One hand holds the shield, the other grabs the red fabric and pulls it over his shoulders.
"Hang on there, buddy! We’ll get the fu-…"

That's as far as he gets, as he is hit by fire right in the chest and falls sideways. Pain spreads through his body. He smells burnt flesh, and acrid smoke rises to his nose and eyes. Blurry, he sees two of the hellhounds prowling closer.
Stephen's muscle memory kicks in and he half-blindly manages to summon another larger shield to protect himself. The hellhounds bite the magic, which is already flickering. It won’t last much longer.

He gasps as breathing becomes more and more difficult.

He really needs to think of something to do, because more footsteps of paws are approaching, sprinting towards him. Strange braces himself for impact, but instead something big jumps over him and lands between him and the hounds.
He hears another kind of roar, almost like a loud snarl, which is followed by angry barking. Stephen blinks and sees the dark outline of another animal that looks familiar. But his mind refuses to process the new information.

A torn piece of fabric settles protectively over him, and at the edge of his mind he notices that the growling grows quieter, then stops completely. Then there's a warm snout in his face and something tugs at his body. With the last of his strength, he shifts his weight, allows himself to be pulled along and lifted upward. After that he loses consciousness.

~~

You stand in the Sanctum and beads of sweat roll down your forehead as you twist and turn magic with your hands. It's a sweat of fear, because you know Stephen is not well, that something must have happened to him. You feel it in your chest and in your heart.
Wong is standing by your side. You had called him immediately to help you with the tracking spell. Normally, you just need to follow the Anchor’s chain, but it spans through several worlds, and you don't have time to follow it. So you let it wander through the portal magic, hoping to arrive at the right end.
With each passing second, the ominous feeling intensifies.

Suddenly, you hear a noise from the other side of the portal and hesitate for a moment. That’s when Callum rushes through. His eyes are blazing flames, his mane and tail are black smoke. Normally, he usually loses both when you summon him with your ritual.
You’re surprised about his arrival, but only for a second. Then you see the lifeless body hanging over his back.

"Stephen!"

You rush to him and notice that his clothes are tattered and burned and blood is dripping from his body. Immediately you swing behind him on the Levion and summon another portal right in front of you.
"Healer!" you call out to the worried looking Wong and push your heels into Callums flank. The Levion leaps through the new portal and you ride at top speed across a stretch of meadow to your mother's house.
You call out to her, and her head appears at the open kitchen window. At first her face darkens when she sees the Levion, but when she sees Strange she appears in front of the house, running toward you with worried eyes.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. He was in the Dark Dimension."
As you jump off Callum's back, your mother puts a spell around Dr. Strange's body to preserve his condition - whatever it is.

Carefully, she levitates him toward the house. Strange still shows no signs of life.
"Get Josiah and Eloise," your mother instructs you. "Hurry!"

You nod. These two are longtime colleagues and friends of your mother and the best healers you know.

Only moments later, a little man with thick horn-rimmed glasses steps out of one portal and a pretty middle-aged red-blonde woman out of another. They immediately follow your mother into the house, where Stephen's body is lying on a magically appeared mat.
You follow them and return to Stephen's side, taking his bloodied hand in yours.

If only you had looked for him sooner!
You had ignored your ominous foreboding, out of pride and arrogance. And now you would possibly lose Stephen.
If only he survived, you would never do it again.

A wave of Josiah's hand removes Stephen's torn robe, now showing the extent of the burns and bites.
Tears well up in your eyes as the smell of burnt flesh is in the air. You squeeze Stephens hand and see the blood running down his arm, but you don't dare close the small wounds. Any interference could jeopardize the work of the three healers.

Golden swirls surround the Sorcerer Supreme, flowing through his body to save what can be saved.
The healers murmur words to each other, giving instructions and sharing their findings. You don't listen, your gaze is on the closed eyes of the injured man.

"Y/N, sweetheart, calm your Levion before he destroys my front yard."
Your mother's stern voice startles you. Her face is serious, and she remains focused on her work.
"I won't repeat myself," she adds when you don't move.

Only slowly you stand up.

You know when she won't tolerate back talk, and you don't want to start an argument with her. Not when she's about to save a life.
Even if everything in you screams against stepping away from Stephen.

Outside, Callum is restlessly digging into the ground and sniffing on all sorts of plants. He's never been here before, your mother forbade you to bring your dangerous pet.
Well, there is always the exception of an emergency.

You know it's not about the Levion destroying the front yard.
Callum lifts his head when he sees you, relaxes a little and walks toward you. As he does, you notice that one of his hind legs is bleeding.

He playfully bumps his head against your shoulder and you put your arms around his neck.
"Good boy. Best boy! Thanks for bringing Stephen back to me."
Tears run down your cheek, and you bury your face in his short fur.
Only now the shock catches up with you. The realization of the consequences of Stephen's death, for everyone but especially for you personally – hits you.
Silently, you pray to whoever is responsible for sparing him once again and bringing Stephen back to you.

You think of his unconscious face, the amount of blood on his skin. Gone was the smirk on his lips that appeared whenever you commented on his work. His small nod of agreement as you two chatted about the latest books you'd read.
Your heart aches as if it had been ripped out of you alive. As if you'd watched someone ram a dagger into it.

You might never again see the gleam in his blue eyes as you roll yours again because he's getting on your nerves.
You scold yourself for being so stupid. You thought you had gotten over your feelings for him, but you merely buried them deep inside you and they continued to bubble beneath the surface. Like a volcano, they seem to be erupting again.

You two settle down in the grass.
Callum seems to notice your mood and licks your ear. You gently push his mouth away from you and instead scratch him behind the ears, giving your hands something to do as your thoughts run wild.
You remember Callums injured leg and find a wound, which you heal.

You are restless and keep jumping up. You feel like rushing into the house to check on Stephen. But after a few steps, you stop each time and return to Callum, who then rests its head on your lap and looks at you with burning eyes.
You have to be patient.
They are the best healers you know and they will take good care of Stephen. There is nothing you can do right now. And as long as you can still feel the connection in your chest, there is hope.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the patio door opens and Eloise steps out. She looks exhausted, and she hasn’t cleaned the blood off her hands.
You rise and await her news.

"We have put a sleeping spell on him. If he survives the night, he'll be out of the woods."
It shows how bad his injuries must have been, that his fate is not yet clear. Despite the work of the healers.
"They're taking him to the guest room right now. You can go see him," she adds.

You nod and thank her. Then you turn back to the Levion.
"You need to go home now, big boy. Next time I see you, I'll give you the biggest piece of meat I can find as a reward. I promise!"
Callum seems happy.

You send him back with the ritual circle and go into the house.

The guest room is in the attic and is actually rarely used. The furniture has been thrown together and some of it has simply been put there because there was no use for it in the other rooms.
Now the space around the bed has been cleared and you sit down at it for a while.

Stephen's face is pale, but his chest rises and falls in regular breaths. You don’t dare to touch him. The sleep spell ensures that his regeneration is not interrupted.
The red cloak lies over the blanket, and even now it refuses to leave Stephen. Its former form is hardly recognizable because of the holes and tears.
You lift it up carefully.
"You look pretty battered. I'll patch you up."

The cloak flutters dully as you take it away, trying to slip from your fingers. You lay it back down on the bed.

"All right, I'll bring the needle and thread here, I guess."

Chapter Text

Strange is awakened by some noises near him. He turns his head and blinks. But the light is brighter than expected, so he pinches his eyelids together with a groan. A new noise is heard next to him and then silence.

He tries once again to open his eyes.

Slowly he gets used to the brightness and sees someone sitting at his bed. It is an older woman with slightly gray hair and kind eyes. He has never seen her before, but something about her looks familiar.

"Welcome among the living, Doctor Strange," she greets him in a hushed voice.

"Thank you… where am I?"

"In a small healer's house. You were brought to me quite badly injured. May I… ?”
She extends her hands over him and after a nod from him, she uses a spell to check his condition.
"How do you feel?" she asks.

He tentatively moves his limbs and body.
"The muscles are sore and stiff. But I’m in no pain."

"You should be fine in a few days. You can go back to the Sanctum Sanctorum, whenever you want."

"Already?" Strange is seriously surprised. "Aren't you going to tell me I need bed rest, so that I can ignore your advice?”

"From what I've heard, you'll know perfectly well what you should and shouldn't do, after you almost died," the woman smiles. "Besides, you were in bed all week. But you probably don’t remember it."

That's a refreshingly new view of a healer, Strange thinks.
He looks around in this foreign room. The furniture is old-fashioned and worn.
Through the window he sees some trees and a blue sky. It seems to be early morning, and small birds chirp outside. This is definitely not New York.

On the other wall stands a small couch, on which you sleep in some kind of sitting position with your legs pulled up. You’re covered by the Cloak of Levitation.

"She brought you here," the woman explains, following his gaze.

"Has she been here the whole time?" asks Stephen, lowering his voice a bit now, too, so as not to wake you.

She shakes her head.
"She's been taking care of things in the Sanctum: keeping Wong informed and trying to keep your condition a secret so no one would take advantage of the fact that the Sorcerer Supreme was knocked out. Only at night she came here, watching over you. She should be waking up soon, too."

In response, Strange just nods and his gaze rests thoughtfully on you.
You were really something.

"If you need anything, I'll be downstairs," the woman says, "I expect you to stay for lunch."

"Thank you."

She leaves the room and closes the door behind her.

Strange sits up and leans against the wall. His muscles feel like they were eaten alive and spat out again. But he's in one piece, still has all his arms and legs and no hole in his chest.
The cloak starts moving and flutters over to Strange, wrapping itself around him.

"Good to see you. I see you were taken care of, too.”

Indeed, you had gone to great lengths to repair the Coat of Levitation. It now has several new red patches on the inside, and with each one more life has come back to the relic. You sewed up the large tears by hand and magically strengthened the threads so that the scars can only be seen up close.

The cloak moves back to you and nudges you with its corners until you wake up grumbling.

"What?" you mumble as you sit up and stretch your limbs.
The cloak pulls at your wrist and you follow it with your gaze to the bed. Immediately you are wide awake and jump up.
"Stephen!"
With a few steps you reach him and sit down on the side of the bed, taking his hand. You squeeze it as if you have to convince yourself that it really is him.
There's so much you want to tell him, you don't even know where to start.

"I'm so glad you’re alive!" you finally bring out.

Stephen smiles weakly. He sees the dark circles under your eyes, the puffy evidence of the tears you've shed because of him. All of your fear and doubts of the last few days. It moves him, but it also leaves a bitter aftertaste, because it reminds him of something.

"Are you going to leave us?" he asks you.

Confused by this, you look at him, frowning. These are his first words to you and you have no idea how to take them. Carefully, you pull your hands back.

"What do you mean?"

"You looked up the ritual for cutting the Anchor’s connection. You left the book lying open in the library."

It takes you a moment to follow his train of thought and he takes the pause as hesitation, so he continues talking.

"You're dating a muggle. So I guess you want to go back to the normal world. Is that why you've been so unfocused lately?"
Actually, he didn't want to ask you all this, even though he's been thinking about it for a while. But this near death experience changed the weight of certain questions - and perhaps of their answers, too.

"You're pretty stupid sometimes, even with your MD and PhD,” you scold him.

Offended, Stephen opens his mouth, but you're not done yet.

"I'm not seeing Liam anymore. He's a great guy, but he can't keep up with the man I'm actually interested in."

You don't like having this conversation right now, but you're not going to lie about it. You're tired of feeling like you have to hold back because of Strange.

He is adding one and one together just yet.
"Oh, you mean...?"

"I mean you should get back on your feet first. Then we will talk about that," you interrupt him. "And while we're at it, what were you thinking coming back all covered in blood?! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Now it's Stephen who takes your hand and squeezes it.
"Next time I'll send a memo first."

You sigh deeply.
"I thought you were going to die on me."
Your voice is no more than a whisper, and your gaze lies on your intertwined fingers. Stephen brushes some strand of hair out your face behind your ear with his other hand.

So much remains unspoken between you, but you see the look of his eyes and you feel hope.

"I'm sorry," Stephen finally says softly.

You two look at each other.

You feel your heart pounding. All the emotions you've been trying to bury away are bubbling to the surface. It's too much. You don't want to deal with them, finding it hard to bear right now. With all the mental stress you've been going through the last few days, with Stephen lying here and not wanting to open his eyes.

"Who or what did this to you?" you ask, therefore, to change the topic.

Stephen tells you about his fight with the hellhounds and how they pulled him into their world. After he was hit by the fire, his memories are foggy.

"Cal got you out of there," you explain to him. "When I felt that something must have happened to you, it wasn't quite easy to find you. The hell dimension is well hidden."

"Rightly so," Strange interjects.

"When I finally got a gate open, Cal came shooting out with you. Wong wasn't thrilled about having a Levion in the Sanctum."

"Too bad I didn't get to see his face." Stephen grins imagining it. "I have to thank your Levion. Without him, I'd be dog food right now."

"Don’t worry, we’ll visit Callum soon."

"Fine." He sighs in surrender and theatrically raises the back of a hand to his forehead. "But not today. I don't feel like standing right now. More like lying down and sleeping some more."

Now it's your turn to smirk, and you stand up.
"Alright, I'll leave you alone. Get some rest, old man."

~~

Back on the first floor, you text Wong that Stephen has regained consciousness and that you both will return later that day.

Your mother visits the Espinosas, a family that lives two miles away, in a medical emergency. So you’re alone downstairs. But you want to keep yourself busy so you can sort out your thoughts about Stephen.
Also, you want to help your mother. The least you can do is take some of the work off her hands. So you put the used dishes in the dishwasher, clean up the kitchen, hang the laundry on the line and pick the ripe berries in the garden.

As you hum softly to yourself while you work, a portal opens in the front yard, and your mother steps through.

"You’re back. How are the Espinosas doing?" you ask her.

"Their grandfather isn’t well. I've been giving him herbs for the pain of his arthritis."

"Oh no. That’s so sad."

"Yes, but he says at eighty-seven he's old enough, and he's happy to be gifted with six grandchildren."

"True, that’s quite a lot," you nod as you walk into the house together.

"Isn't that what all parents wish for?" your mother smiles meaningfully at you.

"I'm sure you'll have your grandkids too someday," you laugh as you wash the berries in the sink, while she puts her bag away.

"Our patient is awake," she mentions.

"Yeah, I'm glad he's well."

"Because he's the Sorcerer Supreme or because he's a friend?"

"Both," you reply, to which your mother looks at you curiously. "What?" you ask.

"I know how it is with you and your friends."

"What do you mean?"

"First you become friends with someone and then you fall in love. Or do I remember that wrong?"

You think about that.

"Sometimes it's really annoying when you're always right," you then shake your head and your mom laughs in amusement.

"’Always’ is an exaggeration. I’m just good at observing."

You start preparing lunch. With four hands and a little magic, the cooking goes quickly and soon the house is filled with a delicious aroma.

Just as you're about to set the table, you hear footsteps on the stairs, then Stephen pokes his head in the door.

"You've got good timing, Doctor Strange."
Your mother motions for him to take a seat at the kitchen table. With stiff movements, he follows her request.

"It smelled so good, I couldn't resist."
He looks around curiously, getting more and more the impression that he is not visiting a healer’s house, but a private home. He also notices how casual and at home you seem to be here. His eyes follows you as you get the plates.
"I’m sorry if I’ve caused any inconvenience," he adds.
His usual cool demeanor is absent; instead, he is polite and sociable. But it's understandable, you consider. In his days as a neurosurgeon, he's probably been invited to a lot of dinner parties or big events, so he's quite skilled at making conversation.
Somehow, it's easy to forget his former life, as he tends to live immersed in his work in the Sanctum. But you love to see this side of him.

"Well, lunch is less trouble than having someone thrown on your doorstep covered in blood," your mother replies. "But you don't have to worry about either."

"She’s kidding," you add. "I didn't throw you on her doorstep."

"True," your mother admits. “It was the front yard."

Stephen looks back and forth between you two women, not quite understanding what's going on first. Then a light dawns on him and he raises a finger.
"She’s your mother!"

"Took you long enough!" your mother replies amused.

"Why didn't you tell me we’re at your parents' house?" Stephen asks you with puzzled eyes.

"Because I never lived here," you explain. "I grew up in Kamar-Taj. My mother didn't move
here until I was already traveling the world."

"I'm spending my retirement here," your mother adds, finally serving lunch.

"Sure, retirement," you mimic her affectionately "That's why you still give seminars regularly."

Stephen watches your behavior and a new kind of warmth flows through him. He feels like discovering a new side of you, and he would like to be at the receiving end of it. Of this lighthearted, domestic banter.

"One doesn't preclude the other. Now eat," your mother orders.

You don't need to be told twice.
Stephen, in particular, seems famished for all the energy his body has expended on healing. So it's only natural that he gladly accepts the offered second helping.

During the meal you discuss your further plans and decide to return to the Sanctum in the afternoon.
Stephen wants to know more about this place and your mother before he leaves. So you two give him a tour of the house and garden.

"Now I finally know where all those delicious goods come from that Y/N always brings home," he concludes the tour as you return to the house. "Thank you so much for that. Your jam is to die for."

"Oh, you mean the apple-pumpkin-cinnamon one? You can get more of it."

"Thanks, but that's not necessary, we have plenty left," Stephen kindly declines. But his objection is falling on deaf ears, and later, as you get ready to leave, he holds two new jars of jam in his hands.

"You made the mistake of praising her jam," you explain to him, amused.

"She’s a nice woman," Stephen says sheepishly.

You laugh.
"Beginner’s mistake."

The jars disappear into a pocket dimension until you’re home.
The Cloak of Levitation rests happily on Stephen's shoulders, moving in the wind even though none is blowing at all.

Your mother brings you to the partio to say goodbye.
"It's been a pleasure, Doctor Strange," she says kindly. "Take good care of your life. To some it is very important."

"I'll do my best. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I can't make any promises," Stephen shrugs.
You scowl at him, which he ignores.
"Thank you for everything," he says politely.

Then your mother hugs you.
"Take care, dear. And listen to your heart."

"Yeah, mom. See you soon."
You open a portal and wave again before heading back to New York.

Chapter Text

After a few days Stephen is back to his former self. He took the advice and stuck with light work until all of his injuries faded to subtle scars. You also filled him in on what he missed while was unconscious.

The two of you are sitting in the library, each with a book, but you stopped reading a while ago.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a sheep in New York?" you ask Stephen suddenly.

"We're not going to get a pet," he replies dryly, without even looking up.

You roll your eyes.
"This is for Cal as a reward. I had to go to Albania to find someone selling it to me at a good price."

"I'm sure your Levion will be happy to have a new friend."

You’re tempted to throw your book at his head.
"Do you have any plans for tonight?" you say instead.

Now you have his attention and he glances at you curiously.
"Nothing of importance." Stephen points to the stack of books in front of him. "Why?"

"Great, then you'll come with me to meet Cal."
He promised you this at your mother’s house. And you won’t accept a take back. Not in this matter. So he surrenders to his fate and agrees.

Happily you take care of all the arrangements.
The sheep turns out to be half a sheep, which is way too large to carry in a pocket dimension.
So your new task is to find something to store it in, since you can't possibly carry the meat around the Sanctum on your shoulders. That would be neither hygienic, nor appetizing.
Unfortunately, the kitchen and the small pantry don't offer anything useful. Instead, you notice that you should clean the place some time soon.

In one of the basement rooms, where all kinds of things are stored, you stumble across a cooler box. At first, you walk past it because it’s not the right size. But then you notice a fine aura around it, as you know it from relics, and approach it curiously. Upon closer inspection, you notice traces of a magical change in it, but can't quite identify it.
Without further ado, you decide to find out and take the cooler box upstairs.
Back in the kitchen, you clean it of the dust that has settled. Then you fill it with things from the freezer to see if it still functions as a cooler.
You come to two conclusions: firstly is that it is still usable.
Secondly, it’s way bigger on the inside.
You empty it out and try it with the sheep. It fits in completely.

~~

In the evening you meet Stephen in front of the Rotunda of Gateways. He neither wears the Cloak of Levitation nor the Eye of Agamotto as usually when you two are alone.

"Are we having a picnic?" he asks you when he spots the cooler.

"If you like eating raw meat."

The prairie landscape is already visible through the left window and you both jump in.
Stephen looks around at the barren landscape, trying to place it geographically as you begin the summoning ritual. Smoke forms and the smell of sulfur spreads. Strange's expression darkens.
You understand it, for he has experienced the world from which the smoke comes and he’s not eager to repeat the journey so soon.

The Levion emerges from the smoke - today without flaming eyes - and rubs his head against your shoulder.

"Hey, big boy. Good to see you, too."
You scratch him behind the ears and check on his wounded leg, which is completely healed. Then you beckon Stephen, who has kept his distance, to come over.
Slowly he steps closer while eyeing the hell creature suspiciously.
Callum watches him, stretches out his muzzle in a sniffing manner.
You suppress a laugh as you see how cautiously the two approach each other, but you don't interfere.
The Levion sniffs at Stephen's outstretched hand, then it nudges his shoulder. In return, Stephen taps him gently on the neck, just like he saw you doing it.

"Hello," he greets Callum formally. "Thank you for saving me from the hellhounds. And for bringing me home."
To her, he adds in mentally.

Callum hums low. Stephen shoots you a questioning look and you reply with a thumbs-up.
The Levion starts sniffing Stephen's belt and pockets, and stretches out its small arms with claws. You step in between them and gently push them back.

"We're not going to claw Stephen, Cal. He'll be happy to show you what he brought you anyway."

"Cooler box?” Stephen asks.

"Cooler box."

He brings it over and opens it. Curious, Callum trots over to him.
"Here, enjoy your meal."
Stephen turns the box upside down and the meat falls to the ground. Callum makes excited noises while you two keep some distance.

"You weren't kidding when you told me about the sheep."

"I wasn't," you say with a grin.

"I'm glad you didn't bring a living one."

"Heavens no! Wong would kill me if I brought a breathing sheep into the Sanctum.”

Stephen makes a face – that’s not what he meant – and you laugh.
In general, you are in a very good mood today. You're just happy to be here with Stephen and Callum and that they seem to be getting along well. That's important to you.
You feel Stephen's eyes on you while you watch Callum eat.

"You said you weren't dating Liam anymore."

Surprised at the sudden change of subject, you look up to him.
"That's true," you nod slowly. "I don't think I can make a relationship work with someone who lives in a completely different world than I do…"

That's understandable.
There is a brief pause, and he seems to be considering his next words. That’s rather unusual for him. You notice that his fingers are twitching nervously, almost trembling.
However, Dr. Stephen Strange does not get nervous.
At least you can't imagine that.

You open your mouth to ask about it when he clears his throat.

"I'd like to take you out to dinner."

Now you're staring open-mouthed at him. This you didn't expect.
Your hesitation makes the tremor in his hand stronger, but he doesn't back down, holding your gaze. Silently, he waits for an answer.

"Yes," you finally reply. "I'd love to. Very much actually."

"Great. I'll text you the details later."
He's back to his confident self, at least on the outside, and drops the subject. He maybe looks a bit too smug.

Your heart pounds high as you think about what just happened. But like Stephen you bring your attention back to Callum, who has finished his meal and is joining you two.
Satisfied, he demands to get his slender ears scratched.

You make yourselves comfortable sitting down and you tell Stephen a few anecdotes about you and the Levion, while you give it some belly rubs.

It's a nice evening, and you could get used to spending it like this more often.
Since he asked you out, you've been giving Stephen some puzzled glances every now and then when he wasn't looking. You wonder about his motives.
Does he feel the same as you do?
It would explain his behavior when you were dating Liam. And his question if you were leaving, right after he woke up.
Has he been jealous?
It would mean that you were important to him.

But maybe he just wants to thank you, like he did to Callum. It's quite possible.
Well, you will hopefully get the answer at your date. Until then, though, you'll have to be patience.

The Levion yawns and you move a bit so he can rest his head on your lap.
Strange shakes his head at this.
"Seeing it like this, I can’t believe that Levions are really as scary as they claim to be," he says.

"He was fearsome enough to fight.... how many hellhounds off?"

"Two or three."

Praisingly, you pat Callum's head, for which it playfully snaps at your hand. You lift a finger in warning.
"Claws are okay, teeth are not," you remind him sternly.

"It amazes me that you still have all your limbs," Stephen comments on its behavior.

"That was a lot of hard work and a little bit of luck."

It's getting late and you decide to return home. Before you do, you send Callum home.

"See you soon, big boy. Take care!"

Even Stephen pats its neck once more as a farewell.

~~

You stand in front of your mirror and critically look at what you see. After changing your outfit twice, you are finally happy with your look.

It's the day of your date with Stephen, and you still have no idea where you're going. He didn't want to give anything away and just told you to put on ’something nice’ and meet him in the main hall at noon.
You’re curious to see what he has planned.

The dress you have chosen looks really good on you. It shows off your waist and reveals just the right amount of skin. You even put on some jewelry for the occasion.
After you've taken care of your hair, you head out so you won't be too late.

Stephen is already standing at the foot of the stairs and looks up when he hears your footsteps.

He's wearing a three-piece suit - something you've never seen on him before. It’s definitely custom-made, as it fits far too perfectly to be off the rack. Around Stephen's shoulders is a coat whose collar and color look suspiciously like the Cloak of Levitation.

Stephen whistles wowed when he sees you. You spin around once to present yourself from all sides and wink at him before heading down the steps.

"You have excellent taste," he greets you when you reach his side.

"In my styling or my choice of men?" you tease him.

"Both."

Grinning, you stand facing each other and realize you have butterflies in your stomach.

"Shall we?" asks Stephen, and you nod.
He creates a portal and offers you his arm, which you take. Together you step through the golden glowing circle just when Wong enters the hall and sees you two leaving.

"Finally," he murmurs.

On the other side of the portal, evening has already fallen and you look around curiously.
You're standing on old cobblestones, stonework walls stretch out to your left and right, and behind a larger gate you catch sight of a beautiful old castle.

"Wow…"

Strange leads you in that direction, satisfied that you are duly impressed.
The windows of the castle are brightly lit, and you spot the signs of a restaurant on the old double doors. It‘s an European name.

"Where are we?" you ask him.

"South Germany."

The door is opened for you and inside stands a waiter in a classic uniform who greets you in German. You understand him reasonably well, since you've visited this country on your world travels.
Stephen probably doesn't know that, though, because he answers for both of you in the same language.

You are led into a large room. In contrast to the outside, everything here is very modern. The walls are painted in light colors, and various paintings are displayed. A large chandelier hangs in the middle of the high, slightly vaulted ceiling, and the floor is a dark parquet. There are relatively few tables, all spaced apart so that you retain your privacy.

You are led to a table in front of a larger painting. On it is a lady, walking up a hill with a white umbrella in her hands.
You sit down and the waiter takes your drink order.

Stephen looks at you questioningly.
"What would you like to drink?"

"Einen Champagne für mich, bitte," you reply in German.

"Machen Sie zwei daraus,“ Stephen adds.

The waiter nods and moves away.

"You speak German," Stephen states. He seems only mildly surprised.

"A little. I lived in Hamburg for a few months and there are few people who actually speak English. So it's enough to survive. But yours sounds really good," you explain.

"The Germans are pioneers in medical research. I used to go to a lot of congresses here."

"In your days as a neurosurgeon?"

"Exactly."

"What was your life like back then?", you ask him with honest interest.

"Very self-absorbed. We probably wouldn't have gotten along well back then. There were always enough people who liked to flatter me. Unfortunately, I didn't realize who my real friends were."

"We’re getting along now," you smile. "That’s all that matters. "

He is visibly uncomfortable talking about it and you don't probe further. Fortunately, at that moment your drinks arrive and you’re also handed a menu.
You both decide on the chef’s choice.

"Here's to a lovely evening."
Stephen raises his glass, and you toast.
"What was it like for you growing up in Kamar-Taj?" he then wants to know.

"It always seemed very quiet to me. But in retrospect I don't think it actually was, with all the world-saving and evil threats." You smile fondly at the memory. "I actually didn't realize how different my life was until I left Kathmandu to travel without magic. I was really out of touch with the muggle world."

"Was it a cultural shock?"

"Oh for sure! After a month, I called my mom crying because I hated everything. But luckily I stuck with my decision and it got better. Besides, I didn't have enough money to travel back home without a sling ring."

"True, traveling is much easier with the ring."

The waiter brings your appetizers and you start eating. The food is exquisite; you can only guess how many stars the kitchen has.
Talking with Stephen is easy and you don’t even notice the time passing. Still, it's different than when you sit together in the Sanctum. You're not sure what it is, but there seems to be something in the air.

~~

Stephen pays the bill and shortly thereafter you leave the castle.
It's gotten chilly outside, and you zip your jacket a little tighter.

"There's a nice path here." Stephen points down the road through the large gate you came through. "Unless you want to go home already."
He gives you a sideways glance, leaving the decision to you if you want to continue the date. You link your arm with his.

"A nice walk will do good after dinner," you agree.

"You sound like Wong."

"I’d need to work on my disappointed face though."
You laugh as you walk down the paved path.
The castle is somewhat elevated on a hill and the path descends in a ring pattern, past old wall remains and flower hedges. It's quite dark and there are no lanterns, so Stephen summons a glowing sphere to make sure you don't trip.
Up from the castle you can hear muffled voices and the sounds of cars arriving or departing. But down here it is quiet, and it almost seems to you as if you have entered another world. An ancient one, where only the two of you exist.
Neither of you feels like talking, so you simply enjoy each other's company.

After a while, the path meets a creek and crosses it on an old stone bridge. On the other side, wide fields open up and on the horizon you can see the lights of a small town.
You stop for a moment to enjoy the view.

You turn your head to Stephen as you notice that his hands are shaking again, and he quickly closes them into a fist. He shifts his weight and stretches his fingers to steady them. You wonder what could possibly be bothering him like this.
Your eyes meet and he tries to hide his unease by burying his hands in his coat pockets, but you're quicker, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

"It's a nice evening," you assure him, trying to distract him.

"Yes," he agrees with you. He takes a moment to catch himself and lets his gaze wander over the dark horizon before turning it back to you.
"I've liked you for quite a while now," he starts then, and you look up to him, "And when you told me you weren't seeing Liam anymore because there was someone else, it made me... no offense, glad. But I need to hear it from you to be sure."

You can tell he's having a hard time expressing his feelings, you can see it in his whole body language. But you also see that he's trying hard.

"What do you want to hear?", you ask with a mischievous smile. "That I’ve been into you for a long time, but didn't know if I could get through your tough shell?" You step closer to him. "Or that I had no intention of leaving the Sanctum and take chances you’re getting another Anchor, because I’m selfish and want to keep you for myself?"

With each sentence, Stephen's eyes shine brighter in the light of the magic sphere, but there's also something darker that you can't quite put your finger on. Like some kind of possessiveness.
He wraps his free hand around your waist.

"You've come through this shell with a frightening ease," he murmurs, leaning towards you.

You meet him halfway and close your eyes as you two kiss. It's unfamiliar, yet intimate. And long overdue.
The kiss is far too short for your taste, but just right for a first kiss.

As you break apart, your breath creates small puffs of smoke in the cold air. Stephen looks as happy as you feel.

"I wish I knew sooner", you say softly. "Sometimes I thought I was imagining this moment between us."

"My last relationship didn’t end on good terms, and I guess I was mostly to blame for that. I wanted to avoid repeating that," Stephen explains. "But having a near death experience like I had makes you rethink some things."

"I hope that in the future we can do without such extreme experiences to make important decisions."
You say this half jokingly, half seriously, and Stephen can only agree with you.

You decide to return home, and Stephen doesn't miss the chance to walk you to your door old-fashioned.
Smirking, you allow it. You like it and, besides, it gives you the opportunity to make out in front of your door.
Cautiously at first, but quickly you overcome your shyness.

"I'll see you in the library," Stephen finally says his goodbye with a wink.

"Not if I see you first."
Cheekily, you steal another kiss from his lips and then head to your room.

Chapter Text

Stephen is sitting on the couch in the library when you enter. His book hovers in the air in front of him as usual, while he turns a page with a quick flick of his finger.
He looks up to you and you smile at him and get a wink in return. Then you disappear between the shelves, as you've brought a whole list of books you need.
You have plans for a spell you want to develop and you need several sources for it.

"Do you happen to know where Mbenga's ‘Thermology of Shadow’ is?" you call out questioningly as you browse several rows of book spines to no avail.

"For some reason, it's at Experimental Matter instead of Physics."

"Ah, thanks."

For cases like this, Stephens photographic memory really comes in handy.
You find the book two aisles away and put it on your growing pile.

When you have everything together, you carry your haul to one of the empty tables. You look over to Stephen. There’s enough space next to him on the couch; it would be more comfortable and you would be close to him.

You haven't seen much of each other since your date a few days ago, as both of you had been busy with your duties. So you wouldn't mind having some time together.
Without further ado, you take your books and walk to the couch. You summon make a small side table appear in front of it, where you put everything down. Then you make yourself comfortable, but leave a little distance between you, to give Stephen space.
If he wanted, he could bridge the last bit himself. Then you open the first book, looking for the right chapter.

Sitting cross-legged, you’re browsing through the books, looking for the right formulas and sources that might help you with your project.

Stephen, meanwhile, is reading his floating book, but he rests his free hand on your leg. You notice it only at the edge of your mind, since you are soon completely absorbed in your work.
You both murmur quiet thoughts to each other every now, but otherwise it is silent in the library.

After a while, you suddenly feel something on your head and look up.
Stephen has put his book aside and is playing with a strand of your hair.

"You're cute when you're so engrossed in your work that you don't notice anything around you," he states now that he has your attention.
The compliment makes you blush.
"What's so interesting that you're ignoring me?" he wants to know, leaning over your notes curiously.

You roll your eyes before answering.
"Do you know the Shadow Mantle?"

"Sure, it's located in London."

"Right. I want to create something similar, but for daytime," you explain.

"So some kind of Cloak of Invisibility?"

"The Cloak of Invisibility uses the abilities of chameleons and is very difficult to create because you have to consider every single angle. I want to use refraction of light." You pull out a scroll. "Something like this, but three-dimensional."

"Like an optical illusion? It's going to be difficult with the movement.”

You nod.
"For starters, yes. Clothes move a lot when you wear them. It'll probably be an effect like seeing something out of the corner of your eye."

You go through your notes together, and Stephen has some more good ideas that you add to your notes. It's fun to brainstorm and time passes over that.

At some point, you put the pen down and stretch your arms.
"Enough for today. I'll look for a fitting base material tomorrow."

Suddenly, Stephen's arm wraps around you and pulls you to him. You make a surprised sound.

"Then we can get to the comfortable part now."
He kisses you on your temple, he had actually been aiming for your lips, but you turned your head away. He seems taken aback by this, especially since you avoid his eyes.

"I'm sorry, is that too fast?" he asks.

"No, it's not," you assure him, sitting up straight again so you can speak better. "I just...I don’t know…it’s…"

You sigh softly, trying to find the right words. Stephen takes his arm back and grabs your hand instead.

"Talk to me."

You can tell that he cares. Even after your rejection just now.

"I'm just having doubts," you start. "Because... Well, I've been thinking about how long I've actually had feelings for you. And I think it first occurred with or shortly after the revelation of the Anchor. It's hard to tell apart what belongs to what. I mean..." You make a loose gesture between you two, and Stephen nods in understanding. "What if these feelings aren't real, but just a result of this?”

You talk more and more, share your concerns with him.
All of this had crossed your mind before Stephen asked you out on the date. But back then you thought it was a one-sided thing.
You try to sort it out by yourself. But with that little voice in the back of your head whispering all this to you, it's harder and harder to look Stephen in the eye while getting closer to him.

Stephen has been listening to you in silence and tilts his head while thinking about what you told him. You're not sure how he'll react.

"Someone once said everything is an illusion. Nothing is real," he finally says. "Have you ever heard of phantom pain?"

You nod.

"You feel the pain, even though it's not physically possible," he continues. "It's real to the person. Doesn't that make everything real? As long as you feel it, it's your truth. Whether it's real or not." He looks at his injured hands. "So yes, maybe we would never have gone on a date if you weren’t the Anchor and I not the Sorcerer Supreme… But why should we let a chain dictate our feelings?"

This is surprisingly philosophical of him, and you look at him fondly. He still holds your hand, and you squeeze his. You place your other hand on his cheek and give him a kiss on the other.

"Thank you," you smile, "That actually helped me. You might be right."

"I usually am," he grins, glad to see you in a better mood.
"You know, for a moment I thought our age gap was bothering you," he then admits. "That would have been a lot harder to fix."

"Now that you mention it: yeah, you’re probably too old for me."
A sly grin appears on your lips.

"I'm not old, I'm experienced."

"Are you now? In what ways?" you ask.

"In many."
He winks at you, and chuckling you lean against him. He puts his arm back around you.

"I know we have a few more years between us than some other people. But it's not an issue for me," you then clarify, a little more seriously. "Maybe because Mystic Arts users usually age differently anyway. At least if you use them as often as we do."

That is indeed true. Even if you don't extend your life by several hundred years by taking energy from the Dark Dimension, a sorcerer's life expectancy is above average.
It starts with simple healing spells: when you close a wound, the cells are repaired. They don't rejuvenate, but they renew themselves in the process. The more often you do this, the greater the effect.
Of course, you rarely heal an entire body at once. Sometimes it’s an arm, another time an organ… It adds up.
Also magic contains a lot of energy, which has its own effect on human bodies.

You play with Stephen's fingers, stroking his scarred skin.
"Well, if you're experienced," you smirk, looking up at him, "I'm sure you can teach me one thing or another."

"Certainly."

He leans toward you and kisses you. You turn to get a better angle, sliding onto his lap. His arm wraps around your waist, and you enjoy exchanging more kisses.

It always feels so easy with Stephen. Almost like it has never been different. You understand each other, even without words. It’s hard to imagine a life without him. As if he just belongs into to your life and you in his.
You fell for him and you fell hard. It’s hard to resist, when he’s playing with your hair. Or seductively pulls your lower lip between his and conquers your mouth with his tongue.

~~

You walk through the halls of Kamar-Taj.
Despite the mystery around it, it is a busy place. There are many who study the Mystic Arts. They are in search of more than the normal world can offer them. Looking for help, for a sense of purpose.

The temple complex has everything for a daily life, if you’re fine living simply.
This place is your home, it has been the focal point of your life as long as you remember. Even now, you feel even more connected to Kamar-Taj than you do to New York. Maybe it’s because you tend to forget there is one of the world's greatest cities right outside the Sanctum Sanctorum.

You’re thinking about your idea for a second date. You came up with it earlier that day and it’s perfect.
For the last two weeks there have been many make out sessions between you two but nothing more. Twice Wong walked in on you, cleared his throat indiscreetly, and reminded you not to disgrace these halls. At least for the second time, you are certain that Stephen has deliberately placed you in Wong's path just to annoy him.

You enter the Sanctum Sanctorum through the main portal that leads to the room where the Eye of Agamotto is normally displayed. But today it’s spot is empty.

You follow the Anchor chain and hear noises on the second floor, where you feel Stephen's presence. As you get closer, you recognize his voice, but the other one is foreign to you.
Through an open doorway around the corner you spot the Sorcerer Supreme in his full official attire, including gloves. According to this, the other man with his back turned to you appears to be an official visitor.

You take a step back into the hallway and change from your workout outfit into your favorite robe. Then you enter the room again, not bothering to be quiet this time. Stephen had already noticed you and turns his head to you. The movement now causes the other man to turn around as well, and you finally recognize him.

"Thor Odinson."

You are surprised to see the Prince of Asgard. You've heard that he's been on Earth every now and then for the last few years. But he's no connection to the Mystic Arts.

He nods politely at you, and you realize that he doesn't recognize you.
That's not surprising; after all, you've only seen each other once or maybe twice, when you visited Loki as a kid, and those encounters were fairly brief.

"Another wizard?" he asks, to which Stephen rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed.

"To what do we owe this visit?" you ask curiously.

"Thor and his brother are passing through."

"Loki is here?" you exclaim in surprise.

Stephen raises a brow questioningly, while Thor thinks you’re raising your voice in fear.
"We're just looking for someone," he explains to you.

"Loki is waiting in the mirror until I’ve dealt with their request," Strange adds.

You remember a list of potentially dangerous individuals Stephen made some time ago. And what precautions Stephen took in case such an individual showed up on Earth. Loki’s is in the top ten.

But you have another plan.

"Sure, I won't bother you two."

You take your leave. Stephen looks after you. He knows you're up to something, but he doesn’t know what it is. It’s very unusual for you to be this short-spoken.
Thor is talking to him again and he turns his attention to the Asgardian. It looks like it’s going to be a long conversation, so he creates two comfy chairs out of thin air and sits down.

Chapter Text

You find an unused room in the opposite wing and create a golden glowing circle in the air, which opens as a portal to the mirror. A figure dressed in a fine black suit falls out and lands ungracefully on the wooden floor.

"I've been falling for twenty minutes!"
With an annoyed expression, Loki jumps to his feet and looks around.

"Y/N?"

When he sees you, he falters for a moment, too surprised. But then he catches himself again and his bad mood wins out over his annoyance at being treated so roughly.

"You did that?" he asks outraged.

You cross your arms.
"Nope, I just got you out of there. You’re welcome."

You're not quite sure how you feel about facing Loki. It’s probably the last thing you would have expected for today. It's been so many years since your last meeting and a lot has happened since then. You left that part of your past behind.

Your dismissive attitude seems to remind him of you parted the last time and he seems to try a more diplomatic approach.
"What are you doing here?" he asks you.

"I live here."

"In Midgard?"

"Yeah, about that... I've researched it and we were wrong as kids: I'm not from Vanaheim but from Midgard."

Loki's expression grows more irritated.
"You can't be human."

"But I am." You glance to the door, wondering how much longer Stephen and Thor would talk. "We don't have time for that kind of conversation right now, though. Thor and you are looking for someone?"

Loki nods slowly.
"Our father."

"Oh, so you have like a family gathering on Midgard?"

"It’s a long story," Loki waves off. "I’ll tell you about it in another conversation. Anyway, he's not where we thought he'd be."

"If he's on Earth, we can perform a tracking spell," you say. “We just need some DNA of Thor.”

"That was my idea too. Unfortunately I fell into a black hole in the ground before I could start."

Ignoring his snarky tone, you brush some strand of hair out of your face.
"Thor is talking to the Sorcerer Supreme. Let's go see them."

You beckon him to follow you and lead him down the hallway.
On the way, he looks around curiously, but there's some tension between you two. A lot of unspoken things. Your former friendship seems like a century ago.

"I assume you figured out how to travel between worlds by now?" you ask him, only to break the silence.

"I've found my ways."

"I see."
You don't know what else to say to that. It feels weird to have the Asgardian at your side.
The images of New York that you saw on television a few years ago come back to your mind. Images of the alien attack. Loki is no longer the teenager you once knew and called your friend. So much time has passed since then. The man walking next to you should be a stranger to you.
You glance at him. His black hair is longer than it used to be and somewhat curly. His face a mixture of being pensive and annoyed. An expression that is very familiar to you, he wore it a lot. On his forehead you notice the small scar he got when he fell with his head on stone during one of your visits.
Maybe he is still more familiar to you than you thought.
Loki turns his face to you and your eyes meet. He raises an eyebrow questioningly and you realize that you have been staring at him. You give him a cautious smile.
He tilts his head, as if trying to calculate you. Then he returns the gesture.
It's a beginning.

Stephen and Thor's voices have moved to the main hall. As you enter Stephen is about to create the same mirror portal that you did earlier. Only this time, no one falls out.
Somewhat puzzled, he steps under the circle and looks up, but sees only blackness.

You step into the hall.
"Ah, you've already tracked down Odin?"
You point to a second portal on the other side of the wide staircase, through which you see green grass and a clouded sky.

"And you Loki," Stephen notes when he sees the very same at your side.

"We had some things to talk about."
Well, you didn’t actually talk a lot, but you would have liked to.

"Brother," Thor interjects, raising an umbrella. "The wizard has opened a gateway for us to where Father is. Let's go."

Loki rolls his eyes and steps beside him.
"That's basic magic knowledge."

Stephen grumbles something you can’t understand.

You, in the meantime, stepped to the bottom of the stairway.
“Good luck," you wish them both politely.

Thor is already walking toward the portal, but Loki turns his head toward you once more. He seems to fight with himself, but then moves over to you.

"Thor and I don't have much time right now, but when we’ve sorted everything out, I'd be happy to see you again." He takes your hand. "If I remember correctly, I still owe you an apology.”

"That's true." For the first time since Loki showed up, you smile at him. "Well, you know where to find me."

"Okay, bye bye!"
Stephen, who has apparently had enough of the Asgardians for today, moves the portal toward you in such a way that Loki now disappears into it as well. You pull your fingers back just in time before it closes.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to see him again after all, you think, staring at the spot where Loki was standing a moment ago, until Stephen's voice makes you look up.

"What was that about?"

"What exactly do you mean?"

"I mean you and Loki."
He doesn’t sound happy, his voice is a low growl.

"We were friends as kids."

"Bullshit."

Fine, it’s not your fault if he doesn't believe the truth. And you certainly don't like his accusatory voice.
"We used to date, but then he cheated on me and gave birth to an eight-legged horse,” you say sarcastically.

Stephen looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.
"I'm serious," he replies, scowling and stepping so close to you that you have to raise your face up to him. "He's on that dangerous list for a reason. In the last six years alone, he has caused more trouble on Earth than anyone else."

Stephen is right about that, but your patience is already worn out by Loki’s visit, which is why you roll your eyes at this theatrics.

"I'm serious, too," you reply snappishly. "It's nice of you to worry about me, but I'm not a helpless, fragile woman, alright? I’m a master of the Mystic Arts and I know what I do.”

Stephen straightens his shoulders, on which rests the Cloak of Levitation, and speaks with authority.
"Then don't interfere with my spells behind my back."
He grabs you by the wrist, but you pull away.

"Don’t!" you warn him. "I'll do whatever I think is necessary. And this...", you make a circular motion in front of his chest with a flat hand, "...attitude won't impress me. So you might as well drop it."

"Watch your tone!"

Stephen's voice is getting loud now. Luckily, though, he's keeping his fingers at his side now, because he obviously knows you're not joking.

"Watch yours!" you hiss, turning away and stomping up the steps in a huff.
Strange has had enough as well and disappears to do whatever. You don't care.

You go to your room and drop onto your bed, grumbling.
Actually, you have no idea why you were fighting with Stephen. It kinda escalated unintentionally.
And Loki… his unexpected arrival is really something else and you still don't know if you're happy about it. But at least he hasn't forgotten you and it certainly wouldn't hurt to take him up on his offer and meet him again. If he comes back.

You sigh softly and turn onto your side.
You understand that Stephen is less than thrilled that you got Loki out of the mirror without his knowledge. But he has to learn to trust you. You're still a team.
Also you feel that it wasn’t about the spell.

Your anger turns into resignation when you remember that you had actually wanted to ask him out on another date.
Well, that went thoroughly wrong.

~~

It only takes a few hours before you decide that you don't want to fight with Stephen any longer and go to him.
As usual, you have no trouble finding him, as he is sitting in the small study room he claims as his unofficial office.
Visually, it looks like a study from the last century: dark wood furniture, colorful Persian rugs and a crammed shelf that takes up almost an entire width of the wall. It has an old-fashioned but cozy vibe.

As a peace offering, you bring two steaming cups of tea, one of which is filled with his favorite brand.

Stephen already noticed your arrival and looked up before you could knock at the ajar door. His face is neutral, but you can tell from his eyes that he also feels bad about the fight.
You put his cup down and lean against the table.

"When I was little, I once stole my mother's sling ring," you start your story. "I just wanted to play with it, but I somehow managed to open a portal. It led to a garden, and there I met a boy my age. He introduced himself as Loki... Ah, I know what you're thinking."

Stephen's look is quite skeptical, but he doesn't interrupt you.

"I have no idea how that was possible. Anyway, we were both magically gifted kids who didn't have many friends, so it was probably logical that we became friends. And whenever we met over the next few years, he always seemed to be the same age as me. But thinking back now, I know that time was different for us. What had been a few weeks for me had been months or years for him. I did some research and time between Earth and Asgard is linear. My best explanation - and it may not be the most logical - is that it somehow had to do with the way I was using the sling ring. Usually, you have to think of a place to open a portal. But as a child, I had no idea of how magic worked. Maybe I didn't think of a place, but a person. A friend. And somehow the ring brought me to Loki. It's pretty crazy and shouldn't be possible. Maybe your clever brain has a better explanation."

Stephen listens to you, sipping his tea.

"It really does sound pretty hard to believe," he finally says when you finish. "But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that anything is possible in the Mystic Arts."

You nod, glad that you both are talking civilian again.

"I haven't seen Loki in years," you add. "It's probably been even longer for him. And we didn't exactly part on good terms. I was very surprised to see him today. Brought up a lot of memories."

Stephen glances at you silently, curious to know more. But he clearly doesn't want to press further after the argument earlier. Instead, he stands up.

"I wanted to give you something."

He steps to a tall cabinet, opens a drawer and pulls out a paper bag. You look at him questioningly as he hands it to you and motions for you to look inside.
You reach into the bag and pull out a soft, flowing fabric that shines silvery and golden, depending on the light.

"This should be the perfect base material for your not-a-cloak-of-invisibility.”

Speechless, you let the fabric run through your fingers. It feels cool, like silk, and must have been quite expensive. But you're much more touched about the fact that he thought of you and your project.

"Wow," you say in awe, "Thank you."

You set the bag aside and grab Stephen by the collar to pull him to you and seal your reconciliation with a kiss. All too willingly, he goes for it, putting his arm around your waist.
The air around you heats up, at least it seems that way to you.

When you pull away from each other, you make a face like a cat that ate the canary.

"Your tea is getting cold," you inform him, smirking.

"I don’t care," he murmurs and kisses you again, taking you by storm.

By now you're sitting on his table, having carelessly pushed the papers aside without looking and opening your knees to give Stephen more space, to have him closer to you.
Your hands are wandering, but unfortunately, his skin is very well protected under the robes of Kamar-Taj.

Stephen seems to think something similar, because the next time you look at each other, you see his hungry eyes. Knowingly, you smirk.
But you want to wait for this.
Just to tease him - as a little revenge for his behavior earlier, so to speak - you decide to leave and say goodbye.

He looks a little disappointed and would have liked to keep it going. But he gives all the time you need.

You take the bag with the fabric with you to put it in your research notes. You’re thinking of the next steps for your project when you remember something and you poke your head back in the study.

"Stephen."

He looks up to see if you have changed your mind.

"I've been wanting to ask you out on a second date all day, but every time something keeps coming up. So please answer fast, before the next emergency rises," you grin.

He laughs.
"Sure, I'd love to."

"Great. I'll text you the details later."
You blow him a kiss and then disappear, very pleased with yourself.

Chapter Text

You‘re standing on the roof of the Sanctum, looking at the starry night. It is brightly lit and clear in sight. You've done a good job painting it.

You’ve thrown out a blanket on the roof and prepared a small picnic. Since it is already night, there are only some light snacks and some drinks to toast with. Then some more pillows and a second blanket in case it would get chilly.
The nights aren’t frosty anymore and you've cast a small heating spell inside the protective dome, but it hasn't been long since it was snowing.

It's not a three-star restaurant in Germany, but hopefully Stephen would like it anyway.
You made a secret out of the date, simply because he had handled it the same way when he planned his. He doesn't seem to mind.

The door to the roof opens and Stephen steps out.
He's wearing jeans along with a button up with the sleeves rolled up, complying with your request for normal everyday attire. Nothing too fancy.
You take a moment to admire his physique and you realize that you've probably never seen so much skin of him before - at least not without any injuries to heal. The shirt hides much less than the robes.

Stephen steps up to you and kisses in greeting.
"You look outstanding."

His eyes travel over your figure in the flattering, long-sleeved dress you've chosen.

"I can only return the compliment," you smile and point to the picnic. "I've prepared something."

You take a seat next to each other and Stephen's looks straight up to the bright sky.

Normally, the night of New York was lit by the lights of the city. Stars are seen only sporadically and dimly. Now it seems as if the city around the roof has disappeared. It is dark and the outlines of the other buildings are blurred.
But the starry sky shines in thousands of bright points. Even the fine band of the Milky Way is visible.

"You weren't exaggerating when you said you could do a great night sky," Stephen says admiringly.

"I know."

Satisfied with your work and happy that he likes it, you follow his gaze. Actually, you didn't use a lot of magic. The view is real, you merely removed the lights of New York.

You both lie back, heads side by side on the pillows to get a better view up at the sky. Stephen reaches for your hand and holds it.
You tell each other the constellations you recognize. You yourself have quite a bit of knowledge ahead of him, having found the night sky fascinating as a child, and also calming.
Stephen listens as you tell him about the constellations and their meanings. In between, you reach for food and feed each other grapes and snacks.

At least two shooting stars flit by, making you think about how you're not really wishing for anything specific right now. It's just perfect to be here, with Stephen.

You turn your head to look at him and notice that his gaze is on you, smiling.

"What?" you ask him quietly, feeling like you've missed something.

"I like how enthusiastic you are about these small things," he replies simply.
He props himself up on his elbow, places his hand under your neck and leans in toward you. You close your eyes as he kisses you, feeling his warm breath on your lips.

"Okay," you mutter.
You've forgotten the rest of your answer.

Up close, you see the blue of his eyes, which seem to shine even more under the starry sky. You see the single gray whiskers on his cheeks and temples, but they don't bother you. It gives him charm and a certain serenity.

Now it is you who kisses him, pulling him closer to you so that he now bents over you.
Your kisses become more passionate. As he leans on his arms, your hands go back to wandering, tracing his muscles over the thin fabric of his shirt.
Playfully you bite his lower lip, whereupon he lets out a deep sigh. He breaks away from you and puts a little distance between your faces so that you can't immediately pull him to you again.
Lust speaks from his eyes.

"Do you want to stay here and look at the stars some more?"
His voice is rough and deep.

"We could go inside," you offer playfully.

In response, Stephen stands up, lifting you up in his arms with him like a bride.
You know he's strong, but then the ease with which he does it surprises you. To hold on tight, you put your arms around his neck.
"That's pretty hot."

At your answer he laughs softly and walks with you toward the door.
"I'll keep that in mind."

There, though, you settle back on your feet to get down the steps into the house yourself. In return, your hands find Stephen again,
In a silent agreement, you turn in the direction of Stephen's room, which is closer. On the way, you don't speak a word, but exchange promising glances and long kisses.

His room is furnished similarly to yours, only a bit neater because unlike you he prefers to leave his study papers in his study room. And just like you, he only owns a single bed.

"I guess we'll have to do something about that," he notes, looking at the small bed and a moment later it's replaced by a king size.

"Show-off," you laugh.

"It's better for the back, with what we're about to do. Trust me, I'm a doctor."
Grinning broadly, he turns to you, wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest. You feel the warmth of his body and your own heat rising inside you.

"Very well, doctor," you murmur and your gaze moves from the top, undone button of his shirt up to his lips.

He kisses you, slowly and intimately and your heart beats faster in anticipation. His hand wanders under your skirt, strokes up your thigh to your butt, where it rests. You bite your lips as he gently kneads it and you feel your cheeks grow hot with excitement. You unbutton his shirt and take the opportunity to admire the muscles on his defined chest. He helps you out of your dress, which falls to the floor. You have eyes only for each other, while you strip your clothes and your lips find each other again in a long kiss. Skin lies against skin and there is no fabric separating you anymore.

"Do you have any preparations to make?" he asks you as he runs his fingers over your curves.

"Already done," you smile back.
You're glad magic is coming to your rescue here.

"Oh, did you?" Stephen playfully raises his brows and winks at you. "Me too."
As he kisses you, he slowly leads you backward to the bed until you bump your legs against its frame. Parting the kiss, he playfully pushes you onto the mattress. The bed is really comfortable and you slide into the middle, sitting down with your legs wide open, waving your finger at him to follow you.
But he stops for a moment and enjoys the view of you.

He comes to you on the bed, moves towards you. At your lap he pauses and dips his head between your legs, playfully moving his tongue. You let out a soft moan, welcoming the touch you've been waiting for. He looks up at you, smiling at the audible approval, and spreads gentle bites and slow kisses over your hip and groin.
You grumble softly, wanting more. Spurred on by this, he continues, using first his tongue, then his fingers as well, to prepare you. You twist and lift your hips, showing him how you want it. Sweet shivers reach you and you bury your fingers in his hair, stroking his back as he slowly moves up to your face. With each of his kisses, your desire grows to get more of him, to feel him closer. He nibbles on your ear, murmuring his word to you as you feel his member warm against your entrance.
"Ready?"

You merely nod, unable to formulate a clear, understandable answer. It's enough for him to enter.
Playfully, slowly.
You two are in no hurry. You kiss him, enjoying his hardness, trying to forget your thoughts and relax. It's been quite a while since you've been this close to someone.

Then he's all the way inside you and stops so you can get accustomed to it. You open your eyes and blink at him.
Time seems to stand still.
Your faces are right in front of each other, you breathe the same air and your gazes merge. At that moment, you are looking at the man who is your friend and your partner. Your future.

Your joyful smile is all he needs to see and he begins to move inside you. Slowly, with deep pulls to find a rhythm that pleases you both.
Your arms are carelessly above your head, you have your eyes closed, enjoying his work. Using your hips, you move against him, matching his pace. He puts an arm around your waist for support and angle.

High sounds escape your throat and you bite your lower lip to hold it in, but you feel his lips on yours.
"Let me hear you," he murmurs.

You open your eyes, seeing his gaze, a sea of adoration. You open your lips and don't hold back the next moan.
Stephen grins and rewards you with a faster, deeper thrust that elicits more sounds from you.
You speed up and you put your arms around his shoulders to hold on and pull him closer.

You feel as if sparks have been ignited in each of your nerves. You bury your fingers in his skin, trying to make him yours forever.
Your breathing gets louder, your movements faster.

Then you notice a falter in his movement, hear the short, deep moan as he comes. Your muscles relax, you take his face in your hands and kiss him on the forehead as he continues to breathe heavily, leaning over you. Gently you move your hips against his to sweeten the aftermath of his climax.
You are satisfied, wanting to wait until he lies down next to you to snuggle up to him.
But after a few moments, he looks down at you with a seductive gaze and kisses you.
"We're not done yet," he says and tightens his shoulders again. You wait curiously, realizing he wants to continue at the same pace, but you feel like something else.

"Slow," you murmur raspy. "Deep."

Stephen does as told. He supports himself with one arm and holds you with the other, then pulls out of you almost completely, only to sink deep into you again.

You bury your fingers into the sheets, moan deeply in pleasure and you give yourself to him completely, unable to form a clear thought.
Your sounds get higher and higher as he brings you closer and closer to the peak, until sweet relief finally overcomes you.

Painting with exhaustion, you just lie there.
Stephen doesn't pull out of you right away, but lowers your hips and you feel his proud gaze on your body. Your eyes are closed, but you sense his happy smile.

Finally you detach from each other and Stephen lies down next to you. He pulls you to his chest, kisses the top of your head and gently strokes your bare back. You slowly catch your breath as you lie still, listening to his heartbeat as it slowly returns to normal as well.

You give him a sloppy kiss.

His eyes are closed, but his lips curl into a smile.
"Are you warm enough?" he asks in a murmur, noticing that you’re trembling softly and goosebumps on your arm.

"I’m fine," you reply in the same tone of a whisper, not feeling like moving at all.

Blindly, Stephen fumbles for the blanket lying somewhere behind him and pulls it over both of you anyway. Smiling, you close your eyes as well, enjoying being close to him.

~~

You wake up to the sound of someone moving next to you.
Grumbling, you turn away, but now the morning sun is shining right in your face. Unfortunately, you are fully awake now.
Yawning, you stretch and blink to get used to the brightness. Your muscles ache, especially in your thighs. But it's a good kind of ache and you smile as you remember where it came from.

The spot next to you is empty, though, still warm and you roll over. It’s your morning off and you are in no hurry to get up. But you need to eat something soon.

The door opens and Stephen steps into the room - freshly showered and shirtless. His hair is damp and still ruffled.
He notices that you are awake and glaces at your naked body, which is only carelessly covered by the blanket. You roll around, full aware of the effect you're having on him.

He licks his lips, having completely forgotten what he was about to do.

"Why are you up so early?" you then ask, breaking the spell.

He leans down to you and steals a kiss.
"Work calls, a meeting with a council is up. I hope I didn't wake you."

"It's fine. Just sneak off the morning after."
You put on a theatrical expression and put your hand over your heart as if it ached.

Stephen laughs.
"I definitely would have left you my number."

"Sure, if you say so."

"Of course. So you could call me for another night."

You chuckle. And while Stephen is putting on his robes, you get up and collect your clothes from the floor.
You're about to pick up your dress when Stephen grabs you from behind and pulls you up to his chest.

"I'm back for lunch. Do you wanna eat out in the city?"

His lips are at your ear, nibbling playfully and his voice sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.
"I'd love to." You turn in his embrace and kiss him. Then you push him away from you. "Now let me pick up my clothes. I need to get dressed."
Smirking, you escape his grasp and put on your dress.

Stephen leaves for London and you treat yourself to a hot shower and a nice breakfast.
It’s still early in the morning when you start your duties.
Firstly, you have to take a few books you have stacked in your room back to the small library. Then you have to take care of some of the relics on display that need to be dusted. This is something you enjoyed doing when you were a student of the Mystic Arts and it takes up half the morning.
While you're at it, you also polish your own bracers and your feather boots.

Since you haven't heard from Stephen yet, you then sit down in one of the study rooms, where you've claimed a few tables for your project.
You cut a few samples of the shiny fabric Stephen gave you and try different methods of weaving in magic.
The results vary in success. One piece seems to become semi-transparent, which is pretty much the opposite of what you need. Because now the fabric is indeed less visible, but everything behind it is.
With another piece, you firstly think you've spilled water, because in the light it looks like a small puddle, when in fact it’s fabric.

Stephen isn't back for lunch and he isn't back for dinner either.
You finally fix yourself some sandwiches, while you wait for him. His meeting with the council is obviously taking longer than planned. But at least you don't feel like he's in danger.
You understand that his work as Sorcerer Supreme is important to him. After all, that's one of the reasons you're in New York: to support him.
Still, he could have at least texted you.

It's early evening when you put your notes aside and think about making some tea. You hear the crackle of a portal in the room.
Stephen steps out of the circle. Eyes tired from too little sleep and a busy day and in his hand he holds a bag of take out food. The Cloak of Levitation, resting on his shoulders, lifts and flies out into the hallway. Even the relic seems tired.

"Sorry, I'm a little late," Stephen mutters apologetically.

You go to him, give him a kiss on the cheek and take the food from him.
"Come on, you look hungry."

You two walk into the kitchen and sit down at the small table. Tired, Stephen rubs his face.

"What a day. I've never heard anyone discuss trivial things for hours. And I've been to a lot of medical congresses with really boring people."
He sighs and you shoot him a sympathetic look.

"Have there been any of the elders? No one talks as slowly as someone who's had three hundred years to practice."

"Don't get me started."
He rolls his eyes and you know there definitely must have been at least one elder. You've been through a few meetings like this, too, when you were younger.

"Tell me about your day," Stephen prompts and you tell him about your experiments with the fabric.
Stephen eats and listens silently and you're not even sure if he's paying attention. But whenever you pause, he gestures for you to continue.

"I think I'll try a different method next time," you end your report.

"Liquida Lux," Stephen says.

"Huh?"

"If you soak the fabric in liquid light, you'd have a higher density of the effect," he says, chewing, while you think about it.

"That's a good idea," you agree.

"My last one for the day. I'm going to bed."

He looks like he’s going to fall asleep at any moment. You bid him a good night and kiss him before he leaves to his room.
You clean the table and still feeling awake enough, you decide to visit Wong, whom you haven't seen much of lately.

He is sitting in one of the study rooms, listening to music and reading. He takes the headphones out of his ears when he sees you.
"What can I do for you, Y/N," he greets you as you sit down in a nearby chair.

"Nothing in particular. I just feel like you are recently more often in Hong Kong than here."

Wong has his own project and is supervising a small group of people. Together they are tracking down magical items that are in the possession of questionable people. That takes up quite a bit of his time. And he often stays in the Hong Kong Sanctum.

"I guess that's true. But I don't think you two lovebirds mind being alone. Or am I wrong about that?"
He looks at you and you grin.

"I just wanted to make sure you don’t feel left out."

"That's nice of you but I don’t."

"That’s good to hear."

You glance at the scroll he'd been reading, but it's unfamiliar.
"Hey, do you happen to know if we have any liquid light stored anywhere?" you ask him.

"Liquida Lux? I think the west temple in Kamar-Taj used to have some bottles. But I can explain how you can collect some for yourself. It's not that complicated."

"That would be great."
You grab a pen from a small drawer and take notes while Wong explains the process to you.

Chapter Text

You're standing on the edge of a glacial lake somewhere in the far north, breathing in the clear, cold air.
It's early morning, the sun peeks shyly over the horizon, giving you just a little more time.
You haven't spoken a word, Since you got up an hour ago, avoiding anyone who might have addressed one to you.

Silence is essential.

Wong told you about the different types of liquid light and about their qualities. For your purposes, the soft morning sun in the cold is best.
It is calm, inconspicuous, but has incredible depth.
You look at the high mountains surrounding the lake and the nearby forest that stands out darkly from the otherwise snow-covered landscape.

The sun rises higher and you continue your way.
The Feather Boots carry you over the surface of the water and you walk towards the bright circle of sun reflection without causing a single ripple.

You stop at the reflection.
From the pocket dimension you take out a bulbous vessel made of dark glass with a wide opening and let it float in the air beside you. Right next to it a book appears, which opens on its own.

Once the sun has fully risen above the horizon and the circle on the water is completed, you begin the ritual.
The instructions are long, but easy to follow.
A long, glowing orange ribbon appears in the air, splitting, twisting and turning around itself. Then the trailing ends begin to dissolve into glistening light. The ribbons rise up into the sky and you have to concentrate to keep control.
Then they suddenly hurtle downwards, plunging silently into the water.

You reach for the glass vessel and dip it into the sun's reflection. The image briefly disappears from the surface and then reappears somewhat blurred.
You close the jar with a cork and then send it away together with the book.

When you get back home, you would find out if it really worked.

You meet with Stephen in Kamar-Taj for a dinner date.
He's running a little late and you sit down in a courtyard, enjoying the last rays of the local evening sun.
It's a warm spring day and the birds are building nests in the big tree that stands in the middle of the courtyard.

At this time of day, this place is not particularly busy. Only a few, small groups of people sit together or walk by nearby. You know most of the faces by now, many by name.
But they all know you. They know about your position and with whom you work in the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Today you don't feel like mingling, so you keep to yourself and only occasionally return a greeting with a nodding smile.

Unfortunately, you’re used to Stephen keeping you waiting.
He has a lot to do and is very busy; you understand that.
Still, sometimes it seems to you that time in general has no meaning to him. He is aware that it passes, but his understanding of it is different. And every now and then he forgets about it completely and is very surprised when you show up and tell him that you two had a date an hour ago.

It's not always easy. You try to be patient, even though it's sometimes hard for you. But he always apologizes and tries to make it up to you with small attention. You guess that's all you can expect from someone you have to share with the whole world and then some.

You look up when Stephen steps out of the building and approaches. You have to shield your eyes with your hand from the sun. He looks good in his blue robe.

You greet each other with a kiss on the cheek. You've decided to keep your relationship private and to handle it professionally in the field of work, which includes Kamar-Taj and the two sanctums in Hong Kong and London. Of course, that doesn't mean it has to remain a secret.
If people had always given you curious looks in the past because you are the Sorcerer Supreme and the Anchor, this has now intensified. But people respectfully keep their distance, which you're glad about.

You leave the courtyard together with Stephen.

"I hope you haven’t been waiting for long", he says as an implied apology about the delay.

"I've been enjoying the weather. It's about time there’s summer in New York, too."

It's still quite cold for this time of year in New York. While the rooms in the Sanctum are always kept at a comfortable temperature, you're tired of all the rain in the last weeks.

"I heard about a good weather spell the other day that I could try," he offers, but you shrug it off.

"It's not that bad. Yet."

As you two step through the large gateway out of the temple complex, you magically change your robes for clothes more appropriate for a stroll through the city. While Mystic Arts students or even monks in a variety of robes are not an uncommon sight in Kathmandu, you prefer to appear like locals.

The streets you walk along are narrow and winding and after a while lead to a larger square.
During the day there's a market for farmers. In the evening, small pubs spread out from the buildings around the square with tables and chairs, some simply made of old barrels or crates.
Music is played at several corners, accompanied by drinking, dancing and laughing.

At a small food stall, you two get rice with vegetables, which looks kinda questionable. But it tastes really good.
You sit down on a bench not far away and enjoy your meal.

A small conversation develops around nothing in particular. It's just nice to sit here and spend the evening with Stephen by your side

As you finish your portion, you lean against his shoulder and watch the people in the square.

"Do you miss this kind of life?", Stephen asks you, pointing at the people who have no idea about the existence of magic or dark forces.

"No," you reply with a shake of your head. "Not if it meant I didn't know you."

He kisses you on the top of your hair.

You stay there for a little while longer because the atmosphere is just too nice to leave already.

As night falls and it gets dark, oil lanterns are lit, bathing the square in a warm light. It’s like you’re sitting in a different time. It is crowded and busy like in Western cities, but there is a certain serenity in everything, a depth that has often been lost to people elsewhere.

Eventually it gets cooler and you decide to return home.

"Let's get some food for Wong, too," you say and stop by a stall to get some take away. You know he's fond of the local food.

In New York, rain greets you at noon. A little annoyed, you look out through the big round window.

"Maybe we should move the Sanctum," you ponder aloud. "Mexico is supposed to be really nice right now."

"We'd have to recreate the entire protection spell around the world. That would be pretty inefficient."

Sometimes you're not sure if Stephen says these things in jest or would really follow through.

"I know."
Sighing, you step away from the window and the gray outside. There are some things you just can’t do anything about.
Stephen wraps his arms around you and buries his nose in the crook of your neck.

"We might as well get cozy in bed. I know something I could distract you with," he suggests.

You turn in his embrace, playfully pretending to think about his offer.

"Hmm... I actually have a few more studies waiting for me. So it should be a pretty good distraction…"

Stephen leans toward you as if to kiss you, but pauses a few inches from your lips.
"I've been reading up on some magical techniques we could try out. So it would be both a distraction and study."

"In that case...already convinced," you grin and want to steal a kiss, but he's quicker and pulls away.

"Then I'll see you back at my place in a bit. You should bring Wong his food first."
With a wink, he turns and walks away.

Your grin widens a bit more and you turn the other way.
Wong isn't in the library, so you just set his bag down in the kitchen and label it with his name. Then you follow Stephen to his room.

Chapter Text

You have a weird dream.

Corpses lie on the floor in a dark, futuristic-looking room that is unknown to you. Humanoid creatures are moving, walking through the rows of the dead. They seem to be talking, but you hear nothing.

Then a familiar face appears: Thor.

He has changed since he was in the Sanctum. His hair is now short, his skin dirty, one eye is missing. Someone has grabbed him, you can't tell who, but he's being tortured.

Another face appears: Loki.
His expression is worried.

Then suddenly the Hulk appears, fighting with someone, roaring. Still you don't hear a sound.

A blue glowing cube.

Then Loki again. Someone has grabbed him by the throat, he’s screaming in pain.
You can't breathe.

Suddenly you wake up, gasping for air.
You are sitting at your desk and have apparently dozed off over your work. That alone is unusual for you, but even more disturbing is the dream you just had. And how real it felt. You take a few deep breaths. As you rub your face, you notice wet tears rolling down your cheek.
You need to find Stephen or Wong, so you rush out of the room.

As you walk down the hallway, you calm down a little, but the feeling of urgency remains.
You hear voices from the entrance hall and turn there.

"Stephen!"

Both Stephen and Wong are on their way down the stairs, but your voice is alarming enough that they stop and turn to you.
"What-...?"
Stephen is interrupted by a loud thump in the ceiling. Something large and heavy falls down, crashing into the stairs and tearing a hole into it.

Instinctively creating force shields on your fists, you walk to the edge of the crater and look down.
A middle-aged man is lying there among the tattered wooden floorboards, naked and quite shaken up.

"He's coming," he coughs dusty when he sees you. "Thanos is coming."

It turns out the man is Bruce Banner, the Hulk.
He tells you what happened on the spaceship and you realize with horror that your dream wasn't a dream after all. There isn't much time to make plans, and you all agree with him to bring in Tony Stark.

You barely listen to them. It feels like the air is being squeezed out of your lungs. The images of your dream appear before your eyes, mingle with Banner's narrative. It can't be true. It must not. You stretch out your arm to hold on to something, because you feel as if your legs will give way at any moment.
While Wong is getting clothes for the unannounced visitor, Stephen gives you a worried look, which you don't notice. It's only when he puts his hand on your arm that you look up.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I saw it," you mutter, "I saw what he just told us…"

"A vision?"

"Probably. I hope not. It looked like someone killed Thor and Loki." You hesitate for a moment as Stephen scrunches his eyebrows. "I have to go there and see if I can help."

The Sorcerer Supreme looks at you, then nods.
"Go. I'll deal with whatever arrives on earth."

"I'll be back as soon as I can,” you promise.

So, just a few minutes after Banner's arrival, you create two portals. One leads to Central Park, the other one into space.
With a protection spell around you, you step through the portal onto a destroyed spaceship. You're not sure how effective your spell really is against the vacuum of infinite nothingness.
Trips into space are not part of your everyday life. You take the fact that you don’t die within the first minute as a win.

On the floor lie the pale bodies you saw in your dream, but in reality they look much worse. You can’t believe someone is capable of such a massacre.
You step to some of the bodies. A brief examination confirms Banner's story that they are not human, but Asgardian.
One of them is still breathing, even though barely.
Perhaps there’s still hope for some of them.

It's not a pretty job you’re going to do, but you block out your feelings and focus on what needs to be done.
One by one you find more Asgardians which are not dead yet. You surround the bodies with a glowing orange cocoon and send them into a magical sleep.
It’s taking time.
You keep your eyes open for the two princes, but they are nowhere to be seen.

Part of the ship's wall has been blown away and you see pieces of cargo and more corpses floating in space. You pray that the two men you are looking for are not among them.

Suddenly, you’re alerted by a tight feeling in your chest
Stephen!
He’s in danger. But you can't leave yet. Not without leaving all these people to die.

So you reluctantly push the sense of danger to the back of your mind and send another Asgardian to sleep. Whatever is going on on Earth, Stephen will handle it. Wong is with him. And so are the Hulk and Iron Man.

You find about two dozen hearts that are still beating on the ship. And with each cocoon you create it gets harder not to lose control of the magic.
So you open a portal and step through with your floating cargo.

It's the middle of the night in Kamar-Taj, yet many windows are brightly lit. You levitate the cocoons with the sleeping Asgardians just above the courtyard floor and rush into the nearest building.

"Y/N?"
It's Reese who spots you first.
"What's going on with you guys in New York? Things are getting pretty intense there!"

"I don't know. I was somewhere else."

You can't waste time, because you feel Stephen is being pulled away from you. And you don't like that at all.
You hurry to tell the Australian what he needs to know about the packages you brought and he promises to wake up all the healers immediately.

After that you jump through the next portal back to the Sanctum and find Wong.

"Where is he?" you ask your former mentor. Apart from him, no one else seems to be in the house. Neither Banner nor Stark.
"Wong, where's Stephen?"

Wong's expression is unreadable.
"Strange is doing his duty: protecting the Time Stone."
His voice sounds uncertain - something you've never heard of him before.

"What happened here-…"
Suddenly, you start screaming as pain stings into your body like a thousand pinpricks.

It fades as quickly as it came, leaving only a faint echo. You notice that your knees have buckled and Wong is supporting you.

"Stephen," you mutter, "I need to find him."
You straighten up and take a deep breath before you open a portal that follows the anchor chain, the sense of danger fades. Stephen is still far away, but seems to have come to a halt, making the tracking a little easier.
You don't know what awaits you on the other side and you get ready to defend yourself if necessary.

Then you step onto a planet that is alien to you.

The surface is barren and you see collapsed ruins and rubble.
Nearby, several people stand together, staring at you as you arrive. You recognize Stephen among them and your heart goes light because he is standing on his legs and is breathing.
Next to him are Iron Man, Spiderman and three people unknown to you. At least two of them are not human.

"A wizard lady," the young Parker exclaims.

"Is she with you?" asks Stark with a sideways glance at Strange, who nods.

The greeting is cut short. A plan needs to be put in place, since Thanos is on the way.
You have to take away his stones and the glove. It's best to take him out completely. There’s no time to work out a precise strategy.

Stephen sits down at the top of a broken staircase to wait for Thanos, as he is the keeper of the time stone.
The rest of the group will hide for now.

You'll only have a moment to exchange a few words with him.

"Be careful," he says.
He looks battered, but is willing to show no weakness. Not with what you’re about to face.

"You too."

From your pocket dimension you pull a fabric that looks like a silvery liquid in the pale light. It is a cloak with a hood that you put on.

Stephen recognizes it immediately.
"Does it work?"

"We'll find out today."

You pull up the hood and disappear before his eyes. Only your outline can still be made out, at least if you know what to look for.
As you descend the steps, he loses sight of you.

You have a moment to take a breath and gather strength before the fight.

It doesn't take long before some kind of portal opens and a tall, broad figure emerges.
Thanos.
He looks around and pauses for a moment. Stephen speaks to him and distracts him, buying you time to get ready.

Then you attack.

Thanos uses his gauntlet with the stones he has already collected. He shifts realities and throws an attack at your group, one by one.
But there are many of you. While Iron Man is carried away by a flock of dark birds, Spider-Man takes advantage of Thanos' brief inattention to shoot his spider webs at him and Drax hits him with his dagger.

Thanos is strong. It is not without reason that he shows no fear in a fight against a majority. It's not the first battle he's gotten into and he doesn't intend for it to be his last.

You need a new tactic. Stephen and you create portal after portal for the others to jump through. They deal their blow and then quickly get back out of range.
It's a way to confuse Thanos.
He is tough and the power of the stones should not be underestimated either. No matter how many attacks you land, he still stands on his feet and fights back big blows.
He absorbs a whole explosion that was targeting him into his gauntlet and hurls it back with equal force.

Finally, you‘ve got him.
Mantis sits on his shoulder and lulls his mind. While Quill holds his right arm in an electromagnetic trap, Spider-Man and Iron Man grab his left arm and try to pull off his glove.
But it's going too slow.
Thanos staggers, but his footing is still too secure. He struggles against sleep.

You create a portal and send it towards him. Spider-Man and Iron Man are pushed through and are now standing on the other side of the battlefield, still holding on the glove.
At the level of his arm, the portal stops and you close it.

Thanos screams as his arm is cut off. Parker and Stark fall backwards as the resistance disappears. Thanos holds his bleeding stump and spins in wild circles and Mantis is flung off his shoulders.
Stephen reacts the fastest, throwing out a magic lasso and grabbing the arm and glove. The rest lunge at Thanos.

He is strong but injured and without the power of the stones you outnumber him.

Together you manage to defeat him.

"Totally easy, like I said," Stark gasps as you all come together. He’s breathing heavily but victorious and sinks down onto a block of stone.

"Sure..." you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

Stephen steps to your side. He looks as exhausted as you feel, but except for some minor cuts and injuries, he seems fine. In his hands he still holds the severed arm with the glove.
"Thanos may be defeated, but the stones can't stay here."

Everyone agrees on that. As well as on the fact that the glove should be destroyed.

Peter Quill - you refuse to call him Starlord – tells you that a few friends of theirs – apparently including Thor – you don't quite follow the narrative - is on his way to the original forge of the Gauntlet. If it is created there, it also can be safely destroyed there. So you all agree that he takes it there.

"For the other stones, we’ll find new hiding places. The fewer who know about it, the better," the Sorcerer Supreme explains.

Stark furrows his brows.
"I don't know if I want to entrust them to two wizards alone."

"You'll have to," Stephen determines.

"Unless you have time and the ability to travel to other dimensions and galaxies yourself," you add.

Stephen nods.
"It's enough to have one stone permanently on Earth. We'll bring the others as far away as possible."

Slowly Stark nods. He seems to know how much power a single stone holds. And who might be interested in getting them. Given that, he doesn't want to risk storing the stones personally and drawing attention to Earth.

After everything has been discussed you part from Quill and his small crew and return to New York.
There's a somewhat of a commotion there, because the giant alien spaceship that stopped by hasn't gone unnoticed.

Tony assures that he will take care of the press, while the wizards make sure that the stones are kept safe. In the same sentence, he sends Peter Parker back on his school trip.
You hear that with horror.

"How old are you?" you ask the boy.

"Seventeen."

"Oh great, he's seventeen!"
Angrily, you stare at Stark as if it’s his fault, but Stephen pulls you through a portal into the Sanctum with him.

"You can worry about that later."

"But he's just a kid!"

"How old were you when you tamed the Levion?"

"Sixteen," you grumble.

Stephen doesn't reply and you don't complain further. You’re too tired and too much work still lies ahead of you.

You seek out Wong, who is glad to see both of you alive and you explain to him what happened and what needs to be done.
He agrees that finding new hiding places for the stones is a top priority.

~~

A few days later, you stumble into your room, exhausted.
You've had very little sleep and really need to make up for it. You change into your pj's. Your robes are soaking wet, since you took the space stone to an underwater cave on another planet.

Unfortunately, the Tesseract was destroyed, but you found another solution for the stone’s storage. Also for the other stones.
Stephen and Wong are still on their missions, but would certainly be back soon. You have a good feeling about this.

After changing into something dry, all you want to do is to drop into your bed, but as you step to it, your gaze falls on your nightstand and you stop dead in your tracks.
On it is a small, red casket made of clay.

You blink, because it must be a hallucination.
It is not possible that it is here.
It burned on Asgard.

With trembling hands you open it and see the small silver bell lying inside.
Tears come to your eyes.
Tears of joy.
You are too exhausted to control your emotions. You don't care, because this red box means you'll see your oldest friend again someday.

Chapter Text

"Another one, please."

You're sitting at the bar in the Avengers Tower.
Stark invited Stephen and you to a yay-we-saved-the-world-and-the-universe party, which also celebrates his engagement to his longtime second-in-command, Pepper Potts.
You meet some familiar faces, most notably the Avengers. But most people are unknown to you, even though you've been introduced to many.

The press is excluded from the event, which is why there is a casual atmosphere. Music is playing, people are standing or sitting together, talking and drinking. There is a lot of laughter and the mood is cheerful.
Most of all, you are happy to see Thor. He seems well, even if he is missing an eye.
To your surprise, it was he who approached you first.

"Lady Y/N."

"Nice to see you again, Thor. How are your people?"

"We're doing fine," Thor replies. "I have to thank you."

"Not at all," you wave off. "I wish I could have done more."

The healers of Kamar-Taj performed miracles on the survivors from the space shipwreck and the patients had already been discharged. You heard that they had settled in Scandinavia for the time being.

"When a nation is down to so few souls, every single one is a gift. I only wish my brother had been among them." He sighs sadly and you realize he has no idea. "He told me who you were after our last meeting. It's nice to know he always had such a good friend."

You get the sense that Loki left some things out of his story, but it’s only semi-relevant right now.

"He still has that friend," you smile and in a few words tell what you think about the younger prince's whereabouts after you found the red box with the silver bell.

Thor's eye widens. He laughs and pulls you into a bear hug, lifting you off the ground for a moment.

"That's wonderful!" he exclaims now in an even better mood.

You can't help but agree.

At Thor's loud voice, a few heads turn to you curiously, but you don't mind.
The God of Thunder also tells you that he met Quill and his group in the forge of Nidavellir, where they destroyed the Gauntlet together.

So even more good news.

You part ways, Thor wants to challenge Steve Rogers in a drinking contest, while you have some appetizers that taste really delicious. Stark went all out with the catering.
You glance at the billionaire.

Earlier, he and Stephen were engrossed in a conversation. Two brilliant minds meeting, with similarly large egos.
You politely listened for a while, but it soon became too tiring, which is why you took a turn on your own.

Now you're sitting at the bar enjoying the atmosphere as the music changes to a more quiet track.

For the occasion, you and Stephen have dressed up in evening attire. He's in a black suit, you're in a dress with a plunging back neckline that could probably turn some heads if you put your mind to it.

"May I have this dance?"

You look up at Stephen, who stepped up beside you and is holding out a hand. You extend your hand to him.
"I wouldn't have taken you for a dancer," you admit as he leads you onto the floor.

"I used to impress the ladies with that," he grins, putting his other hand around your waist to guide you.

It's a slow song and it's easy for you to follow Stephen's steps.

"I swear, if anyone introduces me one more time with ‘and that's the wizard’..." he grumbles softly, making you smile.

"It's your own fault if you’re dressed like a witch," you tease him, earning a snort in return, which is why you directly add the punchline. "After all you did put a spell on my heart."

He chuckles.
"All right, I'll let you get away with it this time."

"You’re too kind."

You rest your head against his shoulder and move to the music. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the corners of his mouth twitch up as you do so.
Your head’s spinning a bit from the alcohol, but Stephen's strong arms are holding you, making sure you don't lose your balance. You like being this close to him, breathing in his scent.
Glancing up to him, your eyes meet.

"How long do you wanna stay?" you ask him murmuring.

"We can leave soon if you want."

It's getting late, well past midnight. You're not exactly tired, but all the social interactions tonight have been exhausting nonetheless.

After the song ends, you leave the dance floor and say goodbye to the newly engaged couple.
Tony offers you one of his expensive sports cars for the ride home, but you gratefully decline.

"We prefer other modes of transportation," Stephen explains.
He creates a portal that takes you directly to the Sanctum. The two men shake hands once more, then you step through.

"You did that just to show off," you grin when the orange ring has closed.

"Of course."

Amused, you link your arm with his.
"I hope you'll be a gentleman and walk me to my door."

"I'm even more of a gentleman and will help you out of your dress afterwards."

"How courteous of you."

You walk through the hallways of the old building to your room.
No sooner than closing the door behind you, Stephen whirls you around and presses your back against the dark wood.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me in this dress?" he growls in a low voice, pressing close to you.

"I don’t," you reply cheekily, grabbing him by his collar and pulling his head even closer until your lips are only millimeters apart. "Tell me."

He kisses you hard and a small moan escapes your throat.

You take a step away from the door, pushing Stephen off of you and stripping out of your dress. The back neckline is so low you don't even have to unzip it. It just slides off your shoulders and falls to the floor.
Naked you stand in front of him, because you had already secretly and magically gotten rid of your underwear outside in the hallway.

Stephen only notices this when he runs his hands down your back and meets no more fabric. He growls and looks like he wants to ravens you on the spot.

"I want you. Now," he demands in a rough voice.

You comply only too gladly, walking past him and stroking your fingers over the bulge of his crotch.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you lean back propped up on your arms behind you.

"Give me your hands," he commands, but you don't intend to make it this easy for him.

"Get them yourself."

Challengingly, you look at him and he doesn't need to be told twice. He moves to grab your hands, but you're faster and slide backwards into the middle of the mattress.
He follows you, kneels over you and reaches over your shoulder for your arms. You drop onto your back, wrap your legs around his waist and press your bare thighs against his body.

Like a predator who's trapped his prey you grin up at him, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. Possessive and demanding.

A rough sound rises from Stephen's throat. He conquers your mouth with his tongue, taking your breath away. A magical band wraps around your wrists, forcing your arms above your head to the headboard of the bed. You’re handcuffed.

"So we're playing dirty tricks today?" you ask.

"You're one to talk."
Stephen’s blue eyes are dark as he pulls away from you. He leaves the bed and begins to undress. He takes his time, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off his shoulders, then carefully laying it over the chair.
Stephen is deliberately playing with your patience and you know it.
He repeats the game with his pants and finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stands in all his glory at the foot of the bed.

"Come here," you grumble pleadingly, since it seems much too cold, much too lonely without him. You like to look at his muscles, but you also want to feel his skin.

Smirking, Stephen gets back on the bed. He leans over you and kisses you again before slowly moving downwards.
Again, he takes his time, kissing your breasts, playfully biting into them and sucking on the delicate skin.
A squeak mixes into your moan as it tickles you.

You hear the smirk in his voice.
"Sensitive?"

As if he didn't know. But you let him get away with it, since you like it when he's bossy.

His fingers slide further down and you feel them greet your lower body. You sigh as they advance further. Stephen knows exactly what you like and he's only too happy to use that knowledge to elicit the most angelic sounds from you.

You let yourself fall, give yourself to him and just enjoy. Your eyes flutter shut and your hips push against his fingers.

After a while, you press your thighs against his shoulders to let him know you want more than his hand.
He looks up at you and moves a little higher, then intertwines his fingers with yours and releases the spell on your arms, although you easily could have done it yourself.

You prop yourself up and kiss him while you switch positions with him. Stephen holds your waist as you wrap one arm around his neck and brace yourself against the wall with the other hand. Then you slowly sink down onto him.
Groaning, you put your head back, feeling his full size inside you.

"That feels good!" you growl in a raspy voice. "You feel good."

Stephen moans quietly, but the look on his face speaks volumes.

Then you start moving. Tomorrow your muscles will burn but tonight it's worth every second. You lift your hips, then sink back down low on him, gasping and moaning because the angle is just too good.
Stephen helps you keep the rhythm, making plenty of rough sounds himself as you ride him.

You lean into him, taking his lips in a demanding kiss, feeling his hot breath.
Then your mouth opens in a silent scream as your climax announces itself and boils up. Stephen moans darkly. You feel the vibration in his chest pressing against your skin and you come.

Gasping, you lean your forehead against his.

He lets you catch your breath for a moment, then turns both of you and lays you on the mattress. He's still inside you, leaning over you.
You nod as a sign that he can continue.

Immediately he picks up the former pace and thrusts deep inside you. You put your hands over your head, looking for a hold and find the wall.
Then you finally give up control, because you are no longer able to grasp a single thought. Gratefully, you receive what Stephen has to give.
Loud sounds fill the room, your breathless gasps, then his deep moans as sweet fulfillment overcomes him.

You both have no breath left for grand words or gestures, you only feel the wonderful satisfaction.
He pulls out of you and lies down next to you on the bed.

You are so exhausted that you need a moment before you turn towards him. You still feel the echo of his movements in your thighs, feel the reverberation of his thrusts in your lower body.

Seeking closeness, you put an arm around Stephen, who is lying on his back.

"I love you."
Your voice is hoarse; you'll need some water soon. But you don't want to let go of him yet.

He pulls you onto his chest, buries his nose in your tangled hair.
"And I love you."

Chapter Text

You're sitting in the restaurant and you're pretty annoyed.
Actually, it was a nice day. You spent most of it at Kamar-Taj and then got ready for your date with Stephen. Today’s your anniversary and you want to meet at your favorite restaurant in northern Manhattan.
The only problem is that your precious fiancé hasn’t showed up yet.

Unfortunately, you're used to him being late by now and mostly take it in stride. But at least today he could have got his head together.
You're already on your second drink and your patience has run out.
He better bring a good excuse for the delay: a world that was ending or something similar.
But then again, you'd rather not have worlds ending.

You empty your glass and decide you've waited long enough. So you leave the bill on Doctor Stephen Strange MD, PhD. If he's going to ditch you, the least he can do is pay for it.
The waiter gives you a sympathetic look when you ask for the bill. You're about to get up when Stephen enters through the door.

He looks good, excellent even, and he looks at you with a guilty expression.
"I'm so sorry, honey."
He tries to give you a kiss, but you sourly turn your head to the side and he just kisses your cheek.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" you hiss in a hush voice. "On any other day I would have understood, but today of all days!"

"I know. And I assure you that I would have left it to Wong to take care of the Alphyn who got lost in New Jersey. But the Alphyn had already eaten him. So not only did I have to send the beast back to his dimension, but I had to get Wong out of them first."

"Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's fine.

"I fucking hope he is!"

It's a pretty good excuse, admittedly, yet you don't want to let him off so easily. So while you're presented with new drinks and a menu, you continue to give him your cold shoulder.

"You're damn lucky we're in public and I don't want to make a scene, Stephen Vincent Strange. But I swear to you, if you're late to our wedding, I will leave the altar and move to another Sanctum."

He takes your hand and gives you a kiss on the knuckles.
"I know, honey. Again, I’m really sorry. By the way, you look breathtaking tonight. And I'm not just saying that to appease you."

You smile, because you're flattered. Stephen knows exactly which buttons to push. And he's using all his charm to distract you from your bad mood.

And with good success. By the time you get to the main course, you're joking again and he makes you laugh with an anecdote from his last meeting with the elders.

You hear loud voices from the reception area, but you don't pay attention to them because you are sitting in the back of the restaurant.
Until someone steps into the dining room.
"This is a robbery, all hands up!"

You furrow your brows. This has to be a joke.
A broad-shouldered guy in a ski mask and a gun walked in, flanked by two other guys in the same gear.
Some ladies cry out softly, but all hands rise. Except for the two of you.

"We're going to go 'round and take your money and jewelry. Also the watches. No one needs to get hurt if no one plays the hero."

The two minions step up to the first table to strip the guests of their valuables.
Stephen moves to step in, but you’re faster.

"Of all days does it have to be today?" you address the criminals in a loud voice.

The thieves turn their heads to you. The spokesman, who has stopped in the middle of the dining room, also turns his attention to you.
"Shut up!"

How rude!
"No, I've really had enough! I just wanted to spend a nice anniversary here. But first my fiancé almost stood me up and now you have to ruin our night!"

You probably would have continued ranting, but are interrupted when he shoots at you. The bullet bounces off the shield Stephen created in front of you.
"Now, now, I don't like my lady being attacked." He stands up, deflecting another shot that was now aimed at him.
"Will you excuse me for a moment, honey?" he asks, turning to you and you sign to him to continue as you reach for your wine glass.

"Go ahead. But hurry up."

"This won’t take long." Stephen turns back to the men who have been following the scene irritated. "You heard the lady."
He moves his hands and golden glowing shapes form around the guys, who now panic and want to back down. +

They don't get far.

A few minutes later, they appear tied up and wrapped in a New York Police Department cell. It will probably take a while for them to be noticed there, but you two don't care.

You sit together again at the table and toast.
There is shy applause from the other guests. The things that were taken are given back and some guests leave the restaurant. You can't blame them after what just happened.

Fortunately, you are not bothered any further. But later you get a dessert on the house.

On the way home, you already laugh about the incident.
"Of course something like this would just happen when we want to have a quiet dinner.”
Amused you shake your head at that.

"I hope you had a nice night anyway," Stephen says.

"We've had better," you admit, "but it'll make a good story someday."

"We could go somewhere else. Would you like to see the Acropolis?"

"I'd love to watch a sunset on a beach with you instead."

"As you wish."

You pull out your phone to check the time zones.
"Hawaii should fit the time."

"Let's go then."
Stephen opens a portal and as you walk through, you change from your evening wear into something summery.

That's one thing you love about Stephen: he opens up the world to you and lays it at your feet. All worlds, if you were to ask.

When you were younger you used to travel the world, looking for something.
Today you're still traveling a lot, but you've found your home. Stephen is staying at your side wherever you go.

Chapter Text

Praisingly, you pat Callum on the neck.
"Good boy... No, I didn't bring any more snacks for you."
You push his muzzle away from your pocket and scratch him behind his narrow ears, laughing.
You've gone for a ride and the Levion is acting like he's starving and deserves a big treat. You really spoiled him too much in that regard.
But when he sees that he's not getting any more from you, he trots off and throws himself into the sand a few feet away to roll around.

Amused, you watch him for a while, when suddenly your cell phone rings. You are always surprised that you have service in this area.
The message is from Stephen, telling you to come back to the Sanctum.
It sounds urgent.

"Alright, Cal, enough playing. I'm taking you home," you call out to the Levion.
He trots over to you and licks your hand.
"I'll be back soon," you promise him.

The ritual is quickly performed, and when Callum is back in his own dimension, you jump through the big window of the Rotunda of Gateways back into the Sanctum Sanctorum.
There you follow the pull of the anchor chain, which leads you towards Stephen. He seems to be on the first floor and after a short while you see him stepping out of a doorway.
His arms are crossed, his face serious.
"You have a visitor," he announces before you can ask what's going on.

"Oh?"
A little puzzled, you look at him, but he merely nods to the room behind him.
You follow him in and see a guest standing there.
"Loki!"

For a moment you're too stunned to react. Of all the people in the realms you didn’t expect to see him. But then you smile and pull him into a hug. Your genuine reaction seems to surprise him, and he just pats you awkwardly on the back.
You hear a cough from Stephen, that covers his actual opinion.
Wisely, you ignore it.

"So nice to see you," you greet Loki instead, taking a step back to look at him. "Have you been offered tea yet?"

"No, your… "
He makes a loose gesture to Stephen, who is still standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, watching the two of you. But Loki doesn't seem to have quite figured out what he is to you.
"... was too busy keeping me under strict surveillance."

"Let me offer you some then."

You gesture for Loki to follow you. As you pass Stephen, you give him a we-will-talk-about-this-in-a-minute glance. He doesn’t object. Good, that means it will be more civilized than the last time when Loki appeared unannounced.

You lead Loki into a smaller, carpeted room, with various couches and armchairs lined up together. It's cozy and perfect for a chat among friends. Besides, there are no magical secrets in this room that might arouse interest in the Asgardian.

"Take a seat, I'll get the tea. Are you hungry?" you ask him while you light the fireplace with a flick of your wrist.

"I don't mind a snack," he replies, making himself comfortable on the sofa, crossing his long legs.

"Perfect. I‘ll be right back."
With that, you leave him alone for the moment. Of course, it wouldn't be a problem for you to summon the tea with magic - Loki probably knows that, too - but you need to talk to Stephen. Without a third pair of ears.

The kitchen isn't far away. You put the kettle on and grab a pie your mother gave you on your last visit. You feel Stephen enter the room. He steps behind you and puts his arms around you.
"I don't like him being here," he growls softly in your ear.

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine.
"I know, babe," you reply, turning to face him in his embrace. "Thank you for not throwing him out immediately." You kiss him as a reward.

Satisfied that you acknowledge his great willpower, he deepens the kiss. Until the kettle whistles and you push Stephen away to tend to the tea.

You glance at him sideways as you place the food and dishes on a tray and you see his frown.
"Hey." Sighing silently, you step up to him again. "I know you don't trust him, but you trust me... hey, Stephen, look at me." Gently you put your hands on his cheeks and turn his face to you, "You love me and you trust me."

"Sure, keep talking me into believing that," he grumbles.

You slap his arm.
"That's important to me!" You scold him. “I haven’t seen him since… ”

"I know, honey."
Stephen sighs and presses a kiss to your hair.
"I love you."
He presses a kiss to your lips.
"I trust you," he murmurs.
Then he pushes you toward the tray
"Now go to him, before he destroys a priceless artifact."

Happy with that, you head to the door and back to the Asgardian, the tray following you floating.

Loki is still sitting well behaving in his seat and doesn't look as if he's done any mischief in the last seven minutes.
He smiles politely as you pour him a drink, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Thank you," he says, taking a sip. "Have you two discussed how to deal with me and what’s the best way to get me out through a portal?"

Frowning, you take a seat in the armchair.
Actually you're not surprised he guessed your conversation with Stephen. He's far too smart for that and Stephen isn't subtle enough.
But that it's his first question to you in over a year irritates you.

"We talked about how you are my guest and that you can stay as long as I like," you clarify, your subliminal warning to Loki coming through.
If he doesn't behave, you have no problem escorting him out yourself.

"I see," he replies simply, setting his cup down.

For a moment, you think he's going to get up and leave. But then his eyes fall on the pie.
"Are those cherries I smell?"

You grin with a nod.
"You have to try it. My Mom makes the best cherry pie."

That's not an exaggeration. And while Loki is used to the royal cooking of Asgard, he does have honest words of praise for the pie.

"Remember that time we sneaked into the palace kitchen?" he asks while eating and you nod.

"You mean when you turned us into mice, but didn't know that our voices were still human?"
You grin at the memory of that.

"That's right. The kitchen boy who found us in the pantry was firmly convinced afterward that all mice could talk," Loki tells you with a grin. "The cook called him crazy when he once explained to a captured mouse why it shouldn't come back into the kitchen. And then he freed it right outside the kitchen. Of course, it ran straight back in."

You join into his laughter.

"By the way, I used that trick a few more times," the Asgardian then tells you. “I once stranded on a planet that's pretty cut off. There lives a tribe that worships some kind of panther god. It was easy to disguise myself as that."

"Don't tell me you spent all day lying in the sun as a big black cat and letting them worship you?" you laugh, "I bet you enjoyed that."

"Of course I did," Loki winks. "Until they tried to sacrifice me so I could ascend back into the stars. Apparently that's what they do there with gods who wander the planet."

"Oh shit!"

"Oh shit indeed."

Loki smiles at this memory. He had gotten out of that mess, too, otherwise he wouldn't be here.
"It's nice to be able to sit together like this. Just like we did as kids," he admits. "Honestly, I would be greeted friendly." His voice softens a bit. "After all, our last few meetings have been a bit… difficult."

You nod as a sign that you understand what he means.
"When Thanos…", you say, but Loki grimaces at the mention of the name and you start again. "Back then I had a vision and I saw what happened on your spaceship. I thought you died. "
You take a sip of your tea.
The memory of it is still very present and some nights it haunts you in your sleep.

"But you got the box?" Loki asks.

"Yes, I did," you reply with a smile. "That's when I knew you were alive. But there's been no word since and Thor hasn't heard from you either. I guess there's just been a lasting doubt."

Loki leans toward you and puts his hand on your arm.
"Then I'm glad I’m able to get those out of the way now."

"How did you do it?" you want to know. “How did you survive?”

"Well, you know." He makes a vague gesture. "Magic."
Satisfied to dispel the melancholy mood that has just arisen and making you giggle, he adds, "It wasn't the first death I faked."
Probably the most difficult, though. He prefers not to say that out aloud. As well as the fact that it was a pretty close call and it wouldn't have taken much for him to actually die that day.
"Tell me about you," Loki then prompts, changing the subject. "Did you settle down here after traveling Midgard and becoming domestic?"

Amused, you snort.
"I wouldn't necessarily put it that way. But I've found the home that I've been looking for a long time here."
A family, you add mentally.
You think you see something in Loki's eyes at those words, a kind of understanding. As if this was something he still needs to find for himself.

Loki's visit lasts a few hours. You sit together until late at night, telling each other anecdotes you've experienced and stories from your childhood that you both remember.
You feel like you have your old friend sitting by your side again. Your laughter is loud and can be heard far across the hall.

At some point, you rub your eyes tiredly.
"It's getting late," you realize with a glance at the clock. In fact, it's almost early again. "I have classes to teach tomorrow."

Loki takes the hint and rises.
"For me, it's also time to say goodbye. I thank you for the food and drink and I hope to avail myself of your hospitality again in the future."

"Anytime," you smile and mean it.

You walk Loki into the grand entrance hall.
"I didn't even ask how you arrived. Do you need a portal somewhere?" you ask on the way.

"I've found my own methods," Loki shakes his head. "For now, the front door is good enough for me."

"Are you staying on Earth longer?" you want to know.

"No, but I promised Thor I'd stop by when I’m on Midgard."
Communication between the planets is still difficult.
You feel a little as if your former roles have been reversed. As children, it was you who could come and go to Loki as you pleased and as time permitted. Without him having a chance to visit you.
It’s probably only fair that it's the other way around now.

You stop at the front door.
"Take care of yourself," you tell him. "I don't want to have another horrible vision of you."

"I'll do my best," he promises. "Ah, and one more thing."
Loki takes your hand and with a formal bow brings it to his lips.
"I formally beg your forgiveness for my childish and disrespectful behavior during your last visit to Asgard."

"You are forgiven," you recite the Asgardian phrase of courtesy.

Satisfied, Loki grins and with a final wink, he leaves the Sanctum. You watch him until you see a blue light flash and his figure disappears.
You probably don't even want to know what his methods are.

Instead, you make your way to bed, yawning.
Stephen is already lying in it, asleep, which is why you try to be as quiet as possible as you slip under the covers next to him.

"Is he finally gone?" he grumbles.
Not yet asleep apparently

"Yeah,” you reply in a quiet voice.

"Good." Stephen turns to you and puts an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “I hope you washed your hand after he kissed it. I don't want alien germs in my bed."

You roll your eyes.
"Idiot," you mutter, kissing him in the darkness, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch into a satisfied smile.

"Sorcerer Supreme," he replies.

"Same thing."

~~

"Loki's here," you inform your fiancé.

"Great," he replies unhappy.

Over the course of the last few years, Loki has popped in every now and then. He seems to have good timing, because most of the time you've just been in the Sanctum and could make time for him.
Sometimes he'd run into Stephen instead, who had greeted him less enthusiastically.
And once Wong had answered the door and told Loki to tell Thor not to keep messing with the weather in Scandinavia. Then he closed the door again, leaving a very confused Loki standing in front of it. Stephen loved hearing that story.

Sometimes Loki and you stay at the Sanctum over tea, but mostly you visit various cities of Midgard.
Just like today as you suspect, because the Asgardian appeared in earthly clothes. He only does that when he wants to mingle with people.

"How do you feel about dinner in Paris?" Loki asks you, stepping through the doorway.

"Hate it," Stephen replies.

"I think it's great," you grin.

With the help of a little magic, you slip into an elegant dress that looks just as expensive as Loki's suit. However, it doesn’t have a daring neckline or a dangerously short length. That's the kind of thing only Stephen gets to see when you two go out together. You have that much sensitivity.
You step to the Sorcerer Supreme.
"It can get late, babe. Don't wait up for me."

"Make sure you don't accidentally order the wrong thing in French again”, he smirks.

He doesn't need to remind you of that. Because of the language barrier, on one date with him you suddenly had snails in front of you on your plate. One of which was still alive. Since then, you've lost your appetite for them.
"You're so sexy when you contort your face in disgust," he laughs.
Then he pulls you close and kisses you passionately. He usually holds back when there are visitors and you know it's a warning to Loki.
Men.
He has nothing to fear, but you can't blame him either. You like this jealous side of him.
"See you later," you breathe against his lips and then step up to Loki, who comments on the whole scene with a roll of his eyes.

The relationship between the two has improved somewhat over time. Mainly because Loki is hardly ever on Earth and hasn't caused any more chaos here. Besides, both of them like you and try to be civil to each other for you. At least when you are anywhere near them.

With the help of your sling ring, you create a portal into a Parisian side street.

"Ladies first," Loki offers you and you step through first.
He turns to the Sorcerer Supreme and winks at him. Stephen's brows furrow and with a flick of his wrist, he trips the prince on his next step. Fortunately, Loki is able to catch himself and is already standing on the other continent. You watch the whole thing through the portal and quickly close it before any of them get any more stupid ideas.

"You guys always have to push it, don't you?" you ask him as you step onto a major road together and blend into the crowd. Which probably isn't the right description, because Loki doesn't blend into crowds. It may be due to his royal blood, but people make way for him almost automatically and he strides among them, but without really belonging to them. He really is above them.
You get curious glances. It is afternoon in France and you are not particularly overdressed for the streets, but purely from your appearance you two make the impression as if you would normally only be driven from one place to the next in an expensive limousine. And be it only from the front door to the coffee shop down the street.
It's always fun to be out with Loki.

"Of course. It‘s a way to show our affection," he replies, while he seems oblivious to the people around him. He can't fool you though. You know he loves the attention.

The restaurant Loki picked out is just a few blocks away. It's probably one of the most expensive places in the whole city.
The restaurant is in a modern building on the fifth floor and when you take the elevator up, there's even a lift boy. Loki slips him a tip when you two get off.

The Asgardian has made reservations beforehand and, so, you are shown to your seats without delay.
The interior is modern and bright. The walls are all glass, giving you a view over the rooftops of Paris. Fittingly, there are only window tables. It's one of the highlights of the restaurant.

You sit down and are handed the menus. You leave it to Loki to order, trusting him to have good taste.

"That's a great view," you admire it as the waiter disappears again.

Loki nods in agreement.
"So," he asks you. "What's new? And don't think I've missed the ring on your finger."

You smile big time.
"Oh, you know," you say, playfully bored. "Just the usual: I saved a few worlds, met the ghost of my former master, got engaged, rebuilt a destroyed temple. Just a normal year."

"The spirit of your former master?" Loki leans forward, interested. "How unusual, you must tell me more about that."
Your expression makes him laugh.
"Just kidding," he reassures you. "So you've finally settled for the sorcerer? I don't stand a chance anymore?"

"Yes," you reply amused, since Loki was never even in the running for that position.

"Then I guess I must congratulate you." He raises his glass filled with champagne. "To the future Mrs. Strange."
You are only too happy to toast to that.

The appetizer is brought. Fortunately, there are no snails.

"We don't have a date for the wedding yet, but I'd love you to be there," you explain to Loki.

"I wouldn’t dare to miss out on that."

"However, there will be some people attending who might… not be happy to see your face. So I have to ask you to behave and don’t cause any mischief.”

Loki sways his glass thoughtfully.
"And what about when the people who might not be happy to see my face aren't there?" he asks you, feigning innocence. “Maybe they will be unable to attend at short notice.”

"Since my future husband is among them, that's not an option.”

"Too bad."
He chuckles and you smile.
Still, you need Loki to comply with this one. You can take a lot, but you don't have the nerve for chaos at your wedding just because some guests want to fight each other. It will be an interesting event anyway, because people will come from all different nations and dimensions. And like Loki, not all of them are human.

"Did he make an effort for the proposal?", Loki asks you.

"Oh, it was a disaster."
You laugh at the memory.

"Really? Tell me all the details!"

"He had actually planned it quite romantically. But then there was an incident with some zombies and we ended up getting surrounded by a horde of undead wild boars. I lost a tooth that day."

"You're kidding me!"

"I swear as I sit here and am glad I didn't get a finger bitten off."

"This is great." Loki slaps his thigh, laughing, ignoring the waitress's irritated stares. "I wish I had been there."

You have a great evening.
After dinner, you stroll around the old streets of Paris for a bit. Night has fallen and it's gotten chilly, which is why you've summoned a coat over your shoulders.

"Do you ever miss Asgard?" you ask your companion, with whom you've linked arms.

Loki thinks about this question.
"I don't miss being there. But it pains me to know that things aren't the same as they used to be. The loss that everyone has suffered."

You nod in understanding.
"It was your home, despite everything."

"I wouldn't call it that…"

"I know. Still, it was a place you could return to. To Thor and-"

"Do you hear that?", Loki suddenly interrupts you and stops.
You frown, trying to figure out what he means.
Just as you open your mouth to ask, it also reaches your ear: a crash like rock being crushed. It comes from the air above, and as you both raise your heads, you see something move on a tall, old building. Something jumps from the roof, then spreads wide wings and glides past you into the city.
More crashing sounds as an identical figure follows it.

"Well, I'm no expert," Loki says "Are these gargoyles supposed to be alive?"

You shake your head and look around the street. But no one else seems concerned about the incident.
"Shall we take a closer look?" you ask back.

A grin creeps onto Loki's face.
"With the greatest of pleasure."

Golden light surrounds him as he changes from his suit into his Asgardian leather outfit. You simultaneously slap the side of your cubits together, and your Bracers of Protection appear at your arms. From there, your dress quickly transforms into your robes.
Then you run after the two gargoyles.

~~

You are tired as you step through a portal into the Sanctum. It has been a long day.
You've been out with Reese and a few other sorcerers to capture a pack of Baldanders. These are small shapeshift creatures that have unfortunately become almost extinct over time, so you keep a special eye out for the packs.
Baldanders are extremely bad at surviving outside their home, as they are not very smart. And this one pack has somehow managed to cross over to another world. You have no idea how though.
Unfortunately, for being such stupid creatures, they are very difficult to catch. Especially because you never know exactly into what they’ve changed, unless you happen to watch them do it.
It took you hours to get every single one of them back together - in between some had escaped again - and your robes are stained with mud and llama spit.
As said, it has been a long day.

You walk the halls of the Sanctum, looking forward to a shower and your bed. Along the way, you hear loud voices and laughter. One belongs to Stephen, but the other does not belong to Wong.
Without thinking too much about it, you decide to see who has come to visit and follow the voices.
They lead you to the door of the dining room.

Frowning, you look at the image that presents itself to you there. It is too absurd for you to understand right away.
Stephen is sitting at the large table. Together with Loki. Between them are two whiskey glasses and a half-empty bottle. Just now they burst out laughing again at something either of them said.

"What's going on here?" you ask, perplexed, and the two men turn their attention to you.

"Ah, you’ home," Stephen greets you happily. He's clearly drunk. "Loki's here."

The Asgardian waves cheerfully at you. He doesn't seem quite sober himself.

"I can see that..." you reply.

"I came to vis- hicks -it, but you weren't here," Loki explains "So we waited- hicks - and then Strange got the booze."

"T’bear his presence," Stephen adds.

You consider taking a photo of the two of them. Or preferably a video. Just to have proof that this is really happening. And also to rub it in their faces when they sober up tomorrow.
But just as you're about to reach for your phone, something catches your eye and the tiredness washes away.
It's probably a sign of your exhaustion that you didn't notice it sooner, because it's actually quite obvious.

"You guys look like you're having a lot of fun together."
You walk toward them and Stephen stands up, spreading his arms to greet you with a hug.
With a nimble gesture, glowing orange ribbons appear around your hands. Before Stephen can react, you grab him by the shoulder and bring him to fall.
With an "oof" he hits the ground. You're immediately right on top of him, pinning him down with your knee and the spell on his chest.

"You're not Stephen!"
You scowl at him, your grip as hard as iron. This Stephen Strange has a familiar feeling to you and not just because of his appearance. But you have no connection to him. The anchor tells you that the real Stephen is somewhere on the other side of the world.

Loki, who is still sitting at the table and has been watching the scene, suddenly vanishes into thin air. Instead, the Stephen under you turns into Loki, who raises his arms defensively.
"I can explain..." he grins wryly.
All drunkenness seems to have fallen from him.

You frown. "First prove to me that you're the real Loki and this isn't another trick," you retort without loosening your grip. "And do it quickly. I'm tired and my patience is short."

"When we were kids you once fell into a pond in my mother's garden and almost drowned, even though it wasn't that deep. You were just kinda stupid."

You eye him, then release him and rise.
"All right," you grumble, turning to the table to pour yourself a drink. "Not that I don't enjoy a visit from you, but what the hell?"

Loki sits up and adjusts his clothes, which have been ruffled by your rude greeting.
"No one answered the door, so I let myself in," he explains as he stands up. "You should check your magical protection, by the way. There seems to be some weak spots."

You nod as a sign that you'll keep it in mind. If Loki really did manage to get in here, then an upgrade on security was sorely needed. Stephen would go nuts if he found out the Asgardian had walked through the building here alone.

"Anyway, I was waiting for you and I thought it would be a fun joke."
Loki grins at you.
"You have to admit, I can pull off a pretty good sorcerer."
As if to prove it, he transforms back into Stephen.

"I'm the Sorcerer Supreme and I have to protect all worlds. No one can do it as great as I can," he mimics him.

It elicits a snort from you, because his impersonation is on point.

"Shall we talk about magic theory? Boring banter about scientific topics with no other purpose but to make me sound smart?"

"Sit down and let's have a drink before I kick your magical butt out the door," you scold him only half hearted and with a grin.

Loki transforms back and takes a seat in the chair where his doppelganger had previously sat.
"How did you know?" he asks you curiously.

You look at him questioningly.

"That it wasn't him."

"Oh, that… you know." You make a vague gesture. "Magic."
Laughing, Loki pours himself a refill.

~~

Whenever someone knocks on the door of the Sanctum Sanctorum, it opens automatically and lets them in. Only people who are either familiar with what is inside or who need help knock. Neither of them are turned down.

The door will not open only in these two cases: if the Sanctum is vacant - which has only happened a handful of times in the entire long history of its existence - or if the person poses a threat.
Loki doesn't really belong in that last category - not anymore. Still, he has to stand outside until you or someone else opens up. You respect Stephen's decision in that regard and it doesn't hurt the prince to wait a moment or two.

Today it takes an unusually long time to get a response to his knock. He has actually already turned to leave when he hears a noise behind him and turns around again.
You look at him from the shadows of the house entrance.
"Hello Loki," you greet him in a low voice.

He frowns as he sees your pale face and deep circles under your eyes.
"Have I come at a bad time?" he asks with some reluctance.

"No, no, come in."
You make way for him and Loki follows you into the large entrance hall, where he looks at you more closely. Your hair is disheveled, as are your robes, which are also stained at the shoulder. And you're not wearing shoes. He's never seen you like this before.

"Is everything all right? Are you sick?"
Serious concern resonates in his voice. He knows that humans are prone to various illnesses.
But you shake your head.
"It's been quite a busy time lately and I haven't been getting much sleep," you explain, sending a message via
Silent Whisper to Stephen that a visitor has arrived. "It’s been a while since you were here."

"Too long, apparently," the Asgardian mutters.

You lead him into the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea.
In here, too, everything is quite messy, with dishes and pots everywhere. Although it would be easy to get rid of that with a little magic.
Loki is polite enough not to mention it.

"How's Thor? How's New Asgard doing?" you ask him, gesturing for him to sit down at the small table.

"Good, it's developing great. You should stop by sometime and I can show it to you in person."

You smile tiredly.
"I'd love to."

The door opens and Stephen comes in. He's wearing sweatpants and looks like he's about to fall asleep standing. Maybe whatever you have is contagious.
He greets Loki with a disgruntled grumble.

"You want some coffee, babe?" you ask him.

"I want to sleep through a single night. Preferably for a whole week," he sighs, rubbing his temples. The last time he'd been this tired was in medical school. Except he was considerably younger then.

"I'll make you a coffee with hazelnut," you promise him and he nods in agreement.

Loki watches the two of you silently. He concludes that something is wrong. But before he can open his mouth and ask about it, there is a sudden noise from outside. A high-pitched screaming, as if from a small monster. Or a baby.

Stephen closes his eyes for a moment, sighing.
"She just fell asleep."

You put a hand on his shoulder. "I’ll go. It’s my turn anyway." You look at Loki. "Come, I want you to meet someone."

"Honey," Stephen interjects warningly, but you give him a firm look.

"He's going to see her eventually anyway."

The sorcerer doesn't have the strength left to object, but he still follows you two. Just in case.

The screaming comes from a darkened room. You rush to the crib in its center and lift out a small bundle, cradling it to your chest.
"Sshhh… it's okay. Mama's here," you reassure your daughter, but she is not having it.
Your gaze wanders to Loki, who has stopped at the door as if rooted to the spot.
"Come over here," you call him.

Only slowly does he approach, his eyes fixed on the bundle. "You... what?"

Despite your tiredness, you smile and turn the girl so he can see her better.
"Loki, this is Althea Josie Strange. Josie, this is His Majesty, Prince Loki of New Asgard."
Althea has your eyes but the dark fuzz of Stephen's hair. Her little fingers wrap around one of your hair strands as if automatically, and she tugs at it rudely. It's one of her favorite things to do.

"She looks so... fragile," Loki breathes, his expression softening.

"Do you want to hold her?"

"Me?" Loki pauses to make sure you really mean him. His gaze wanders to Stephen, who is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He shrugs his shoulders.
"Then she'll yell at someone else for a change," he says, but his eyes are on him watchfully, ready to intervene should he make a wrong move.

You hand Althea to the Asgardian. It's far from the first baby he's held - expertly supporting his head and neck - but never before had little beady eyes touched him like this.
With a small movement of his fingers, he creates small, golden figures above her. Just a small magical trick. Immediately there is silence as Althea's eyes go wide and she forms a surprised O with her mouth.
"Greetings, little one," Loki welcomes your daughter. "It’s a pleasure to meet you."
He looks at you and you nod encouragingly. He's doing a great job.

Stephen steps to your side and puts his arm around you as he watches the trickster god with Althea.
"Now if he can get her to sleep, we've just found our new nanny," you whisper to him excitedly.

Your husband grimaces.
"No way. We can handle it without him. There’s other kind of magic to make her sleep."

"No sleeping spells on our daughter," you remind him.

"Fine," Stephen replies, surrendering, since the two of you could really use some assistance. "He can stay a little longer."