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When Stephen opened a portal into Kamar-Taj, he found America hunched over a book in the library. His blue eyes roamed over her, already trying to assess how much she’d grown in the few days he was gone tending to the New York Sanctum. She was clutching the side of her head and her nose was scrunched. Her lips moved slowly, reading to herself.
“Ugh!” America slammed the book shut. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
Stephen suppressed a smirk, he remembered those days.
With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the book into his hand. “Oh, I hardly doubt that-,” Stephen glanced down to read the name of the book, “the Book of Haldeum, is stupid. Maybe annoying at best.”
America started in her seat, and Stephen dropped the book as her wide eyes sparked blue.
“What's wrong,” he asked, eyes flickering across the room as he hurried towards her.
“Nothing!” she squeeked, jumping from her seat. “What are you doing here?”
Stephen stopped in front of her. “Why are you so scared?” The sorcerer scanned her, she didn’t seem to be hurt, she had no wounds that he could see.
America's face bloomed red, “I’m not!” she started, then reassessed as Stephen raised his eyebrows at her. “Well, you creeped in here and spooked me.”
“I don’t creep,” Stephen scoffed. Satisfied with her answer and not sensing anything threatening, he took a seat and magicked the Book of Haldeum back on the desk.
“I just came to see how your training was going.” Which was mostly the truth. For some reason, Stephen couldn’t shake the urge to see her. He had been pressing Wong for updates on America, however the Sorcerer Supreme would only tell him to get off his ass and portal himself over to the Temple. So, here he was.
America’s face cooled and she sat back down, across from the sorcerer. “Aw, did you miss me?” She said, her delivery slightly off.
Stephen rolled his eyes, “Knowing you, I figured you might have let in some demon from the multiverse because he offered you free pizza. So I thought I would come and make sure you hadn't.”
A smile crept on America’s face, her brown eyes brightening, “Uh-huh, you can't fool me. You’re way softer than any of the other Stephen’s I’ve met.”
Something strange swelled up in Stephen's chest. He looked away from her and leafed through the tome, changing the subject, “So, how is it going?”
“It’s-” America grimaced, pulling the smile off her face, “I didn’t realize being a magician involved so much reading.”
“Sorcerer,” Stephen corrected.
He slid the book over to America, “Well, this ones fairly easy. It's a beginner's tome, you should be moving on with it soon. The upper level books are far more interesting.”
America frowned at the book. She was looking at it as if it might grow fangs and attack her.
“How far are you?” he pressed.
The girl’s eyes jumped to his, “Well, you know,” she said vaguely, gesturing with her hands.
Stephen gave her a flat look, “You haven’t started it have you?”
“I have!” she said indignantly. “It’s just, a little…” America mumbled her words so Stephen couldn’t understand her.
“Quit mumbling your words, you're too young to be slurring your words like a drunk,” he admonished.
America’s shoulders slumped and blush crept back on her face. “It’s hard to read,” she finally huffed.
Stephen waved his hand, as if brushing away her concern, “Well, of course it is. Even though it's a beginner's tome, it’s still high level magic.”
Stephen thought this would erase the embarrassed look on the girl's face, but America just slid further down in her seat.
“Look at me,” he said and patiently waited until America reluctantly pulled her eyes up to meet his, “What is it?”
America hesitated, looking at Stephen with unsure eyes, “I have a little trouble reading, even when the books aren’t full of made up words,” she admitted, eyes dropping back to the table.
“Oh,” Stephen said, rendered speechless for once. She couldn't read. That’s why she almost opened a door to the multiverse? She was that frightened of someone figuring out that she couldn’t read?
“How old were you when you first jumped?”
America bit her lip, “I don’t know. Like seven?”
Strange nodded his head, trying not to let any emotion show on his face. Of course she’d never been to a proper school. Running from monsters and jumping from universe to universe doesn’t really leave much time for an education.
“Can you write?” he asked.
America looked away from him, her shame radiating off her in waves. Stephen felt a pang in his chest as he watched her. Before he could stop himself he reached across the table and grabbed her chin in his hands.
He turned her face until they were looking at each other once more. “Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn't choose to jump and have your entire life changed.”
“I feel stupid, I cant keep up in the classes,” her words tumbled out. “I’ve never had to go to school before.”
The sorcerer gave her a hard look and gripped her chin firmly, “You’re not stupid, kid.”
Stephen released her chin and sat back in the chair. America was looking at him nervously and it was too close to the look she gave him when she thought he was the other Stephen. He couldn’t bear it, he never wanted to see that look directed at him.
“I’ll help you,” Stephen said. “Between your classes, I’ll teach you.”
America perked up, that sad, scared look melting off her face, “Really?”
And Stephen felt that odd sensation in his chest again and he knew he couldn’t fail the girl like he had failed so many others.
“Of course,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’m an extremely accomplished doctor. I’ll have you reading like a pro in no time.”
Stephen might have spoken too soon. It seemed that being an extremely accomplished doctor did not have much in common with teaching basic literature and arithmetic.
And Stephen could admit, if pressed and only to America, that he simply did not have the patience to teach. Everything came quite easy to him, he didn’t understand how someone could look over someone once and not completely understand it.
Despite his shortcomings, America was a great student. He was sure she could sense his vaguely concealed frustration when she wasn’t catching on as quickly as he would expect her too. She already knew more than he expected her to. She had, if he had to guess, somewhere around a fifth or sixth-grade education. She could read, albeit very slowly and she could write some. As well as do basic math.
She had trouble on longer words and it took her some time to sound them out. Large paragraphs seemed to intimidate her, causing her to trip over her words as her eyes jumped across the page.
“N…In..inda,” America sounded out.
“Indicate,” Strange supplied, glancing at the book she was reading.
She cringed, “Thanks,” America mumbled.
“What did I say about mumbling,” he said, not looking up from his own book. He figured since he was spending so much time in Kamar-Taj, he might as well brush up on some things. Besides, he noticed if sat and read as well America wouldn’t feel as embarrassed.
“Sorry,” she said in a tone Stephen couldn't quite place.
He looked up and saw that her face was pinched as she stared at her own book. Stephen closed his book.
“You don’t have to apologize, little one.”
She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed, “I feel like I’m bothering you. You probably have a million other things to do besides teaching me how to read. Maybe I should just jump to a universe where reading was never invented.”
Stephen cocked his head, “You could go back to the paint universe.”
“I can't eat there,” America pouted.
Stephen suppressed a laugh, “Guess you're stuck here with me then.” Blue eyes roamed over her face as he watched the cloud of shame pass over her.
A smile spread across her face as she looked up at him. “Guess so.”
He didn’t think he’d ever had someone look at him with such sincerity, no one who depended on him like he felt America did now. He couldn’t help but wonder whether or not that was a good thing. It was written across the entire multiverse. Stephen Strange was destined to be alone; he didn’t know what would become of her if he continued to interfere in her life as he was.
Stephen looked away from her earnest face, towards the shelves behind her. “Listen kid, I know I’m not the best teacher. But, we can make this work, ok.”
America sobered a bit, “That was hard for you to admit, wasn’t it?”
Stephen frowned. “Not at all,” he lied.
“Uh-huh,” America smiled again, and Strange felt his chest tighten. “This you is much more humble than the other yous I've met.”
America surprised him sometimes with the knowledge she had of him. It wasn't hard to forget; that even though they had met not so long ago, she had known him for much longer.
“How many of me have you met exactly?”
The girl's eyebrows scrunched, “Too many.”
Stephen didn’t like the way she said that, “Were all of them like ponytail?”
America shook her head, “Not all of them. Some good, some bad, most of them entirely unhelpful.”
“Except me, of course.”
“Of course.”
And she smiled again, covering a laugh as if she thought Stephen wasn’t helpful at all. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t exactly stop the smile that was inching across his lips.
Stephen nodded towards her book, “Come on, finish this chapter, and we can be done for today.”
**************
“Oh my God, this is delicious,” America mumbled, her words smothered by the pepperoni pizza she had just shoved in her mouth.
Stephen scowled, “America-” he started.
The girl swallowed heavily and wiped her mouth, “I know, I know. No mumbling.”
The sorcerer rolled his eyes as America reached for another slice of pizza. They were sitting across from one another in a local pizza shop. America had been doing well with her tutoring and begged Stephen to take her out of Kamar-Taj for the afternoon.
He had agreed, but only if she could make the portal out to New York herself. Which, technically, she did. America had successfully opened a portal roughly 1400 feet in the air, right next to the Empire State Building. Of which she confidently walked through without even looking, too busy bragging to Stephen how she was an old hat with the slingie and could cast a circle even better than he could.
Stephen’s heart was in his throat as he watched America’s face fall when she stepped through the portal with no solid ground beneath her.
He had outstretched his arm in a completely human attempt to save her, the Cloak of Levitation unraveled itself from around his shoulders and shot out to catch America’s falling body. She hadn’t even let out a single scream before Stephen jumped through her portal, created one of his own, and the cloak set her down in his arms, both of them standing in front of the doors of the New York Sanctum.
And as Stephen looked at her now, stuffing her face with pizza. He couldn’t erase the memory of her falling, her brown eyes locking with his as she slipped beneath the circumference of the circle.
Her openly scared face has reminded him of just how young she was, how dangerous the world was, and how if he could he’d cast a shield of seraphim around her so she’d be protected forever.
“Here,” America said, sliding a slice of pizza to him. “You have to eat.”
Strange mentally shook himself and picked up the pizza and held it up, “You know this is terrible for you right?”
The girl rolled her eyes, “I get it; you’re a doctor.”
Stephen was about to retort that yes, indeed, he was a doctor when a group of teenagers barreled into the shop. They were laughing with each other, poking and prodding one another as they walked up to the counter to order.
Stephen turned away, ready to ignore them and continue chiding America when he froze. She was staring openly at the group of teens. Lips parted in concentration as she studied the teens. It struck Stephen as foolish that he never considered that America would want to interact with people her own age. How she was robbed of a childhood by her powers and how he now robbed her of her teenage years as he sequestered her away in Kamar-Taj.
He swallowed, looking at America as her eyes followed the young group's every move. “You know,” he started. “You know, I’ve been tutoring you for a few months now. Your reading and writing are almost where they should be. If you wanted, you could continue your education at a real high school, hang out with people other than old sorcerers.”
America’s brown eyes snapped to Stephens blue, her eyes blown wide. “What! Why?” She sat up in her seat and placed her hands on the table, her full attention on Strange.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I'm not where I should be. I’m trying, I am,” she stammered. “If I'm bugging you, I can study on my own.”
The alarm was rolling off her in waves, and Stephen’s heart clenched as he watched America work herself into a panic. “America–” he tried to cut in.
She was breathing fast and heavy, and she was beginning to turn heads in her plight. “Please don't make me leave. Please–”
He reached out and grabbed her hands, trapping them against the table, cutting her off. “Hey, you’re ok,” he said softly. “You don’t have to go anywhere if you don't want to.”
America’s eyes darted across his face; her hands were still tense beneath his, “Then why?”
“I’m sorry, I just thought you might enjoy hanging out with people your own age. You rarely get out of the Temple,” He searched her face, shocked by the force of her hysteria.
“I don’t need to,” she said quickly. “I hang out with people all the time there.”
“America,” Strange said in a pained voice, “You only hang out with me.”
“I only need you,” she insisted, flipping her hands, so they were gripping Stephens. “Plus, that’s not true. I hang out with Wong too.”
Stephen’s chest flooded with that indescribable feeling and was disgusted with himself when he was filled with the overwhelming feeling of pulling America close. Whisking her away to the Temple, where she was safe and near. But, he also knew that that was no life for her. Spending all her time with a narcissistic crippled doctor and a crotchety old sorcerer.
His gut churned as he squeezed her hands in return, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn her away, “Well, I suppose that’s alright then.”
America’s face cleared of any fears as a cautious smile crept up before she quietly asked, “Can we go home?”
Stephen’s already drawing the circle before he opens his mouth to respond.
Sparks lit the room to Stephens' left, and he stepped out of the way just in time as a heavily sealed box came shooting through the open portal.
“You really ought to watch where you’re throwing stuff, Wong.”
The Sorcerer Supreme stepped through the circle and dusted off his robes, “It is customary to bow before The Sorcerer Supreme,” he said, ignoring Stephen.
Strange stepped close to examine the box, “Right, I forgot. We can try again next time.”
Wong huffed and magicked the box over to an unoccupied corner. “You haven't been to Kamar-Taj in a while.”
For sixteen days, Stephen had been stuck at the New York Sanctum. Some creature had been lurking in the subway tunnels. It took a little longer to track it down than he originally thought.
“The creature was shiftier than it looked,” Stephen sniffed.
Wong gave him a sidelong look, “I see why this version of you isn't the Sorcerer Supreme.”
Stephen waved off his comment, “Too much paperwork.”
“Your presence has been missed at the Temple.”
Stephen froze slightly. He had been trying to spend less time thinking about America than he usually does. But Wong's comment brings millions of thoughts swirling through his head. Is she safe? Is she eating well? Sleeping well? Caught up in her lessons? Practicing her writing?
“She’s getting quite adept at reading,” Wong continued.
It wasn’t a surprise that Wong knew or noticed America’s deficit in reading and Stephen's tutelage.
“Excellent,” Stephen said quietly. They’ve been working on her schooling for more than a few months now. Stephen himself noticed her stumbling over her words were few and far between. There was barely a delay in her being faced with a word and her pronunciation of it. She’d even finished the Book of Helduem, even though she complained it was full of fake words.
Soon, there would be no reason for him to visit her at Kamar-Taj. This was good, he told himself. Once her tutelage was over, America’s life could begin in earnest. She didn’t need to rely on him so much.
During the two weeks he’s been in New York, he had constantly been reminding himself that this was good for her.
And for him. Stephen Strange was meant to be alone in every universe, 616 Stephen wasn’t any different.
When he looked up from his contemplation, he found Wong staring at him with strange regard.
“What?” Stephen quickly schooled his expression into one of neutrality.
“You two have become quite close.”
“Are you telling me or asking me?” Stephen said, tensing.
Surprisingly, a small smile graced Wong’s face, “I’m actually a little bit proud of you; it's like you’re growing up.”
Stephen sighed, for some reason relieved by Wong’s happiness, “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious, Strange. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been hiding from any form of human connection. It’s good to see you open up.”
The New York Sorcerer shook his head, “You’re delusional.” Strange hadn’t realized he was being that obvious.
“You and the young one both found similarities in each other,” Wong said sagely, posing his fingers to portal out.
“And what could that be?”
“You both found someone as lonely as you.”
*******************
“Stephen!”
If it weren’t for the cloak, the force of America’s weight smashing into him would have sent both of them tumbling over the cliff that Kamar-Taj was perched upon.
Stephan stiffened for a heartbeat and returned the girl's hug. Pressing her into his chest. She felt taller already. He felt a sadness pass through him, just how much had he missed of her life since he’s been gone. How much more would he continue to miss?
America held him in a crushing embrace. “Where were you?” she mumbled into his chest.
Strange let the mumbling pass for once. “Stuck in New York, sewer monster,” he said simply, placing his chin on the top of her head.
“Gross,” She pulled away, beaming up at him.
Stephen’s breath caught in his throat, America looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place.
He coughed, “You know, you really shouldn’t tackle someone standing on the edge of a mountain.”
“You shouldn’t cast a circle on the edge of a mountain,” she replied, tugging on his robes.
America looked up at him through her lashes, the beginnings of blush coloring her face. “I miss you,” she said.
Three simple words shouldn’t knock a grown man off his feet, but here he was reeling from something he wanted to hear but was too afraid to ask for.
Stephen raised a hand to ruffle her hair, “I missed you, too.”
The girls answering expression was enough to make Stephen think Wong was right. That their loneliness had somehow turned into something a little more light. America’s bright yet shy smile was almost enough to make him believe that maybe they could continue to be together, that the familiar happiness that they shared wouldn’t turn to ash in his mouth.
Stephen huffed, “Come, little one. Show me what you have been learning.”
He would distance himself, he promised internally. But not today, not right now.
In between America’s sorcerer classes, her schooling (now including Wong who decided that America needed to learn to read and write in Spanish as well), and Stephen watching over New York. They’ve managed to squeeze in time to look for clues about where America’s parents could have gone.
It was obviously a sore subject for the young girl, but she was determined to find her parents. As was Stephen, albeit a little selfishly.
Finding America’s parents was his perfect excuse. If they were able to locate the girl's parents, he believed their separation would be nearly painless for her. America would no longer need him once she was in the arms of her mothers. She wouldn’t look to Stephen for praise anymore. Wouldn’t run to him with exciting news. Stephen would no longer have to comfort her when she woke from nightmares about the Scarlet Witch. Or bring her pizza when was hungry.
It hurt, of course, it hurt when he thought about her without him. But for once in his life, he wasn’t going to put himself first. America deserved more than he had to offer, and he was determined to give her her best chance.
They were in the library once more, and Strange swelled up with pride as he watched America flip through books with speed that almost rivaled his own.
“Maybe we can use my connection to them as a link?” she said, not looking up from her book. “It could lead us to them.”
Stephen turned and leaned over her shoulder from where he was sifting through the shelved books behind her.
“Yes, perhaps. Let me see,” he said, already taking the book from her hands.
“Hey!” she started. “I was still looking at that.”
Stephen waved her off, eyes roaming over the text.
America moved to sit backward in her chair, watching Stephen. “I can’t wait to see them again,” she said with a fondness he’s rarely heard her use.
Stephen looked up from his book, “I know. You must miss them a lot.”
“Of course, they’re my moms.”
The far-off look America had in her eyes assured Strange that he was doing the right thing. Her parents could do so much more for her than he could. He was so lost in her wistfulness, that he was beginning to garner some of his own.
“What will you do when you find them?”
“Oh man, I don’t even know. Cry probably,” she laughed. “We could explore the multiverse together. Or maybe the universe they're in now is a good one; maybe they have a home there.”
A home in another universe. The sorcerer swallowed past the lump in his throat, “Maybe you could live there with them.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she looked at Strange with an odd look. “It would be one long commute to class, though.”
Stephen couldn’t help but push, couldn’t help but want for her to push back, “You never know, maybe there’s a cooler sorcery school in their universe.”
“What, like Hogwarts?” America said cautiously.
“Perhaps,” Stephen turned his back to the girl, walking towards the shelves. “Or perhaps no magic school at all.”
America was quite behind him.
“Perhaps you could live a normal life,” he paused. “Or normal-ish, with your powers”
“Without you,” she said in a tone that sent a knife through Stephen's heart.
Stephen's shoulders slumped and he suddenly regretted removing the Cloak of Levitation. The extra layer could have surely offered him some protection from this deadly blow.
“Yes.”
In the span of the breath it took Stephen to respond, America had flung herself out of the chair and latched on the sorcerer. Her small arms circled his waist as she pressed her face into his back. She was squeezing him as if she was afraid he’d blink out of existence if she loosened her grip for even an instant.
“Why,” she said, her words almost lost in the fabric of his robes. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”
What does he even say to this? Because she deserved the life that was taken from her? Because he had nothing to offer her? Because he was afraid? The answers were limitless.
“You need a home,” is the pitiful answer that he settled on, his arms hanging as uselessly as his words at his sides.
“I have a home,” she insisted.
She was pushing back, just as he wanted. Just as he knew he couldn’t combat, but he tried anyway. “A real home, America.”
America shook her head against his back, pressing her fists into his stomach.
“I'll never replace them,” he said quietly, breaking. He was Doctor Stephen Strange, protector of the realm. He could slay monsters, turn back time, save a million lives. But the one thing he could never manage was to keep someone close to him. There would always be someone better than him out there for the people he loved.
“I know,” she said, matching his tone. “I don't want you too. I just want to stay with you.”
“America…” He tried again, “Little one, I'm not a good man. I’m selfish and conceited. I’m narcissistic– ”
“You’re better than every other version of you,” she interrupted fiercely.
“And every other version of me ends up alone,” he heaved out. “ I’m not special enough to think I'd escape that fate.”
“You’re wrong, you are special.”
“Kid, there's an infinite number of me’s I’m not special.”
“But I find you, all over the multiverse, I find you,” her shoulders are shaking against him and he feels a warm wetness spreading across his back. “That counts for something.”
“ So don't make me give you up,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. America dropped her arms from around his waist. “And don’t give me up.”
If Stephen truly wanted to keep to his resolve he would have walked away as soon as America released him. Would have cast a circle right then and there, never to see the girl again.
But his resolve was shaky from the beginning. His heart was never fully engaged in his self-appointed mission.
Not even a heartbeat passed before Steven turned around and dropped to his knees in front of America. Her face was blotchy and red. She didn’t even attempt to conceal the freely flowing tears raining down her chin, onto the floor. She stared at him like she was lost and Stephen didn’t hesitate to cup her cheeks in his large hands. Thumbs smoothing away the harsh frown lines in her young face.
He tried to speak, but the emotion flooded his voice so savagely that he almosted choked. All he could do was stare at the girl. Stare and think that if he’d never met her he’d be alone. Think that even though he had met her he could still be alone. End up alone.
But gazing at her now. So open and vulnerable, with so much love clearly written on her face. How could he not take the chance.
He was tired of being afraid.
“I won’t,” he managed to get out.
Stephen released his hold on America’s cheeks and sunk his face into her stomach. His weight causing her to rock back on her heels and his hand reached to grip her forearms.
“Please,” he beseeched. “Stay with me.”
America let out a hiccuping sob and wrapped her arms around his neck. And really it was all the answer he needed.