Chapter Text
The door looked, unfortunately, like the same metal doors that the Duat had created in that afterlife psyche ward nightmare trip, foggy window and everything.
Doctor Strange raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at Steven, “A hospital door?”
“I really would prefer it if you didn’t ask,” he sighed, stepping up to turn the handle.
It swung inwards, and beyond the hall twisted sideways, dark but for a single dimly flickering light halfway down, swinging from an old looking cable. Papers covered the floor between cracked pieces of debris and overturned medical equipment. Steven swallowed hard and drew a flashlight from one pocket, “Oh I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”
“That makes two of us,” Strange echoed, flicking his wrist and calling up a small glowing orb that sparkled a bit. “But if we’re going to break what’s left of the spell, this is our best bet.”
“Yeah, yeah alright. Let’s go before I change my bloody mind.”
How had this happened? The mission had been so simple compared to the other things they’d planned. Layla had taken charge and she always made such clever plans. Get in, take the staff, get out. With the gala taking place it was easy to blend in, even while wearing the suit, everything was so fancy.
But one minute they’re sipping champagne and waiting for Layla’s signal, the next someone’s grabbed the staff and is zapping rich partygoers to rob them blind. Of course that’s when things had gotten dicey, and the last thing Steven remembered was running from the megalomaniac with an army of brainwashed innocents shooting lasers from the scepter like some kind of real supervillain.
Now here he was, waking up in an unfamiliar bed in a room he didn’t recognize with a pounding headache. Steven couldn’t help groaning and rolling onto his back, using both hands to cover his eyes against the light streaming through the window. Who’s idea was it to open the curtains all the way?
He let out a slow, pained exhale, rubbing his eyes slowly. “G-d- bloody hell… what happened?”
"I had been hoping to ask that myself.”
The unfamiliar voice made Steven stiffen in fear, and very slowly, he lifted one hand to peer around the room. Oh this place was posh, wasn’t it? Lots of books, fancy looking mirror on the wall, little table, probably a guest room, not a lot of personal touches to any of it. And then there was the matter of the man sitting in an armchair beside the bed, reclined, hands folded in front of him, one leg crossed over the other.
Admittedly Steven couldn’t help staring a bit as he propped himself up, squinting as he tried to place the man’s face. (Where did he put his glasses?) The goatee and hair- dark, slicked back, greying at the temples- all of it really rang a bell, but, didn’t this guy usually wear a big red cape or something?
“You’re, you’re Doctor Stephen Strange, aren’t you?” Steven managed, taking a moment to rub his eyes before staring again. “One of the avengers?”
“Current avenging status is in question,” Strange answered with an indulgent smile, steepling his fingers. “But yes, that’s me. But that leaves us at an imbalance, you know who I am, and you’re a complete mystery to me , Mister…?” He gestured with one hand, raising a brow slightly.
Again, Steven just blinked, taking a bit too long to reply as he oscillated rapidly between mild panic and the excitement of sitting in the same room as a bloody avenger. “Right, right um, okay. I’m, well, are we using hero code names or do you want my real name? I have to ask because I never know in these situations.”
“Your, real name, please.” Strange’s smile thinned a little and Steven got the distinct feeling he was mucking this up.
But he nodded like he had things under control anyway, “Right, well, you can call me Steven, with a v, cos I know yours is a ph. Just Steven, for now, if that’s okay.”
“If you insist.”
"I do, thanks mate.” Taking a moment finally, Steven noticed he was still wearing Marc’s mission-wear from the night before, but his jacket hung over the footboard of the bed and their boots sat nearby. “Did, did you undress us?”
Strange shrugged casually, reclining in his chair. “You were unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, it was the least I could do to make sure you were comfortable until you came around.”
“The bottom of the stairs?” Steven repeated, thoroughly confused.
“Being more accurate you walked, or rather ran, out of the window, tripped, and fell down about twenty feet of stairs.” He gestured at Steven again, who wilted in embarrassment, “Your armor vanished moments later and you were unconscious. As a doctor it was my duty to make sure you weren’t dead or dying.”
Steven cringed, looking nervously towards the door, Marc wouldn’t be happy about any of this. “You saw all of that then?”
“The end of it, at least. Which brings me to my next question.” He sat forward, leaning one elbow on the arm of the chair, eyes glittering with curiosity. “What spell did you use? From my point of view it certainly looked like Moon Beam Teleportation, but such magic hasn’t been used in millenia, it was lost with the burning of the library of Alexandria.”
Why had Marc picked a short sleeve shirt, he didn’t have anything to fidget with but the sheets! “Well um, we’ve just been, callin’ it moonwalking, y’know like the dance? Still not the best at it and-” Steven’s eyes went wide with panic, “Layla!”
“Layla?” Doctor Strange repeated, frowning, watching as his guest frantically grabbed his coat and dug in the pockets, pulling out an old looking cell phone.
It beeped a few times as he dialed, still mercifully with enough charge for a long distance call. “Oh I am a right absolute plonker I am, I just left her and knocked myself out- Marc is going to kill me if she’s not okay.”
The phone began to ring and he really really wished Strange wasn’t watching him do this because frankly it’s none of his business. Oh please Layla had to be alright, if that jerk with the sceptre had gotten his magic claws into her and she’d gotten hurt- it’d be all his fault! For real this time! Because he’d just run off like a coward!
Nevermind that he’d been blasted with a magic beam and probably had been on fire when frantically casting the moonwalk spell to escape…
The line clicked.
“Steven?”
“Layla!”
“Oh my god are you alright?” The relief in her voice was audible, and Steven let his head hang forward and the tension melted out of his shoulders. “Steven, you just disappeared into thin air, where did you go?”
“Nevermind that, are you alright?” he insisted, holding the phone with both hands, turning away from his host as if that would give a little more privacy.
Layla huffed, “Yeah, yeah I’m alright. Your vanishing act surprised him enough I could swoop in and take the sceptre. The police showed up only a bit after, he’s in custody and I’m getting this thing somewhere safe.” He heard a gentle thumping over the line, presumably the sound of her patting the suitcase.
“And the people at the gallery? They’re all alright, yeah?” He gestured vaguely at his head with one hand even though she couldn’t see, “No more mind control nonsense?”
“Doesn’t seem like it, but the staff’s eyes are still glowing so,” he could see Layla shaking her head in his mind’s eye, “I don’t know. We’ll sort it out once you get back here. Where did you even end up?”
Steven glanced up at Strange, who gave a little wave to remind him yes i’m still here. “Um, let me ask real quick.” He put the phone to his chest, “Where, exactly am I?”
“The Sanctum Sanctorum, in Brooklyn,” the doctor answered, waving one hand towards the window, and having to fight a bit of laughter at the way Steven’s eyes grew wide enough it looked like they might pop out.
His hand shook as he lifted the phone back to his ear, “A-Apparently, I made it to Brooklyn.”
“ Brooklyn!?”
“Yeah I’m, I’ll call you back once I sort it out love, promise.” With Layla safe and the sceptre contained, she shouldn’t have to worry about them. Besides they were with a bloody avenger who had magic and could probably very easily get them home soon. “But I’m fine, no need to worry, we’re all fine here. I’ll be back in a jiffy and I’ll call you before we leave!”
“Steven, what’s going on?”
“Well uh…” Be honest! Layla appreciated honesty and she would absolutely laugh at the right ridiculousness of this. “Apparently I crashed into Doctor Strange’s livin’ room so I’m sorting that out.”
Sure enough, he heard her fight a snort on the other end. “You… you what? ”
“Crashed his pad, as Jake would say. And he’s staring at me right now so I’m, I’m going to uh-”
“Sort it out, call me when you’re done, and please don’t let Marc pick a fight with an avenger,” Layla interrupted, a smile evident in her voice. “Be careful, okay? I love you.”
“Love you too. Be home soon, promise.”
“I’ll see you then.”
The phone clicked when he shut it, tucking it back into the jacket pocket, trying very hard not to be self conscious about being stared at, though it wasn’t really working. Good news, they’d won! Layla made it back to the hotel, she had the was sceptre, and maybe only one or two people had been grievously injured in the process.
Mostly Steven, if he remembered correctly.
Now they just had to get home, maybe take something for this headache, but all that meant playing nice with the doctor. “So, so what do we do now then?”
Doctor Strange stood, moving to stand by the window before speaking up again. “Well, it’ll be easy enough to get you back to your, partner. But I still have some questions for you.”
“Of course you do,” Steven grumbled, grabbing his boots and picking apart the knot in the laces. “Well s’pose I can’t stop you from asking, go ahead.”
“Where did you learn that spell?” Strange asked, turning to face him, arms folded and his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. “It’s been lost to time, so really I would like to know how you discovered it just in case you uncover something more dangerous. Well, also I think it’s important for the preservation of history, which I think you can appreciate.”
How to even begin answering that? Oh right mate I’m learning it from the god of the moon himself, it’s kind of a thing we have, bit of a deal, do you know what avatars are? Of bloody course you do, you were the sorcerer supreme once. Oh how am I working with him? Oh was it me that played with the sky a few months back? Well um…
“I have a very powerful friend teaching me,” Steven finally answered, giving a nod. “I bet you and he could talk, bet he’d like you even.”
“And who, is he?” No doubt Doctor Strange was running through every possible powerful entity he knew of that used he/him pronouns, many of them likely potential dangers or enemies. Sure it would be easy to simply tell him it was Khonshu, but were the sorcerers on good terms with the Egyptian gods? Did Khonshu have a reputation? Oh it would just be more trouble to bring it up probably.
He watched Steven stand, tapping one of his boots as if to make sure it was on right. “I really shouldn’t say, very private an’ all, but he sent us on that mission.”
“A mission to retrieve a mind controlling artifact?”
“Oi were you eavesdropping?” Steven said, cracking a bit of a smile. “But yeah, an enchanted ancient Egyptian Was Sceptre. Traditionally they represent, like, dominion and power, they’re these funky bluish staffs with prongs on the bottom and a jackal-ish head on top. This one, of course, was being used to mind control a bunch of rich folks at a gallery to make the host rich and-”
His face fell, brow furrowing as a terrifying realization settled over him.
Things were far, far too quiet.
How hadn’t he noticed before? Where was the mockery? The Avengers teasing banter? The protective warnings and fighting over the front?
“No, no no no…”
Strange frowned, moving closer, raising one hand in a gesture of concern. “Steven?”
“No no this is wrong, this is bad.” He gestured sharply at Strange, eyes growing intense, “You. You need to leave. I need, some time alone, something’s wrong and- you have to go.”
“Excuse me?”
But before the sorcerer could protest, his guest had shoved him out into the hall and slammed the door shut, throwing the lock. (As if that would keep him out when it really came down to it) This stranger, Steven, grew only more interesting the longer he remained in the Sanctum, though he certainly hid something behind that cheerful if anxious facade.
Quiet as possible, Strange moved closer to the door, listening beyond.
Steven immediately ran for the mirror on the wall, searching in his reflection. Even if he didn’t need the mirror anymore, sometimes it helped like an anchor, especially when trying to get someone closer to the front. “Marc? Jake? Hello? Anyone??”
Nothing, not even a nudge, just the barest of feelings that they were there, like something had shoved them all the way to the back. But, that didn’t make any sense, even on their worst days, the slightest bit of anxiety or worry from Steven could get them to front, overprotective as they were. Especially when it came to other… super heroes. He would’ve expected Marc to front the moment they realized it was bloody Doctor Strange sitting there, but he hadn’t even stirred!
Something was seriously wrong, and Steven couldn’t even begin to place what.
At least not here.
Double checking the door’s lock was still turned, Steven began to push the plush arm chair in front of it, a pathetic blockade against a sorcerer like Strange but it would have to do. He just needed a few minutes of… introspection.
Falling into the dreamscape had only gotten easier with practice, calling up the safe space they had created within, somewhere he could face his alters, where he could drag them back. When the dust settled, leaving the illusion version of the flat bathed in cozy sunlight from the sweeping sand dunes beyond, Steven found himself still alone. Panic crept into his voice, “Alright guys! This isn’t funny! Where the bloody hell are you? Are you hiding?”
Wouldn’t be the first time, there’d been a terrible thunderstorm and Marc had hidden so hard they’d only found him after manifesting the dream and looking under the bed, where he could be far away from reality. In some ways, this place had made it easier for him to escape things, in other ways, it made it easier for them to pull him back.
But right now, no matter how Steven called and tried to pull, it felt like a wall had been forced between him and his alters, leaving their mind and their dream dreadfully, horribly quiet.
“Oh no no no, where could they go? It’s not like they could leave!” Steven began to babble, looking around in a panic.
“Where could who go?”
Steven reacted on instinct- summoning the suit, drawing a truncheon, turning on his heel and throwing with all his strength.
Doctor Strange sidestepped, watching with alarm as the rod collided with a bookshelf, sending some poor trinket falling and shattering on the floor. Steven’s mask unravelled and he couldn’t help how angry he became, rage filling his whole chest and making his voice creep close to a shout. “What the fuck are you doing in here?”
The sorcerer gave him a flat look, and Steven noted he now wore that stupid red cape now, old blue robes and some sort of eye pendant. “You really expect me not to keep a close eye on spells cast in my sanctum?”
“This is bloody private!” he snapped back, storming over and jabbing Strange in the chest. “Ergo, you. need. to leave. right this minute! I’ll kick you out if I have to!”
“Then you’ll have to figure out what’s going on alone, won’t you?”
Steven faltered, moving back, raised hand curling up nervously into a fist. “As if you know what’s going on.”
“I could, if you told me.” He flicked his wrist, calling the truncheon to his hand and offering it to Steven, a gesture for a truce. “You’re looking for someone, that much is clear, someone who’s very important to you, and you expect to find them here, in a dream world.”
Hesitant, Steven took the weapon back, his eyes still locked on Strange’s and still filled with suspicion and anger. “Maybe. I thought, if I couldn’t, couldn’t get to them out there, maybe I’d find them here.”
“And, who are they? ” An understandable question really, maybe he thought Steven was bloody possessed or had ghosts in his head, no doubt those were probably more reasonable explanations to a sorcerer.
“My brothers,” Steven answered, opting to at least be semi-truthful, still trying to keep his panic and irritation under control. Strange didn’t need to know a damn thing about the how or why, but if he was here, maybe he could help find them. “Marc, and Jake. Usually we can chat an’ stuff, and in here we can talk face to face but, it’s like they’re gone. Well not gone, more like, just out of reach, and I’m really, really trying not to freak out.”
“Well it certainly seems like you’re doing a very good job at keeping it together,” Strange said, offering a small smile. “Though it sounds like these brothers of yours are, maybe, deep in the subconscious, if this is where they’re supposed to exist.”
“Them being quiet o-or in the subconscious is normal though,” he insisted, quickly biting his tongue from spilling even more personal information. “It’s, they would come out if I called, and they haven’t.”
“But you know they’re still here, somewhere.”
“Yes, cos I can, I just know. okay?”
Strange took a slow look around the room, his brow furrowing as he seemed to consider. His eyes lingered on the small crescent blade resting atop a pile of books before he spoke. “If they’re not here, in the waking dream, it’s possible they’re stuck in the lower depths, like I said, the subconscious.” He turned to face Steven again, curious now, “On your, mission, were you struck at all by the artifact you were trying to retrieve?”
“Well, yeah but it didn’t work,” he said with a casual shrug. “Don’t ask me how but, he couldn’t control us, and then we escaped.”
Of course things had been a little more complicated, the beam had given him a splitting headache that it was any wonder how the hell he’d cast the moonwalk spell, he’d just… wanted to get away. Marc had been shouting about Layla, and after the beam struck them Jake went real quiet, but they’d been there when they escaped, before blacking out and apparently passing out on the way down the Sanctum Sanctorum’s foyer steps. But, they weren’t brainwashed, were they?
Steven should be able to tell right?
Strange nodded slowly, and gestured with one hand. “It’s possible that spell, whatever it was, is still lingering, mixing with the different magic you’ve been recklessly using.”
“Oi!”
“And causing problems,” he continued, stern. “While I’m sure you think you’re very responsible with your spell work, I highly doubt you truly know what you’re really dealing with.”
“Of course you bloody do though, don’t you?” Steven scowled, folding his arms, trying his best to imitate Marc’s glare. “So what do we do, Sorcerer Supreme? Oh! I forgot! You got demoted, didn’ you?”
“It wasn’t a demotion.”
“Yeah yeah yeah alright whatever, still Doctor Genius, what do we do? Hm?” Bitterness dripped from Steven’s voice, he’d gotten mocked enough by the old bird he didn’t need to hear it from an Avenger too.
For a moment, Strange considered again, looking around. Steven couldn’t help tapping one of his hands against his arm, impatient, feeling… remarkably vulnerable. He hated having someone else in here, someone who wasn’t Khonshu, though maybe Layla would be alright, but not a near perfect bloody stranger who could probably twist his mind into jelly with a few words and magic gestures. Furthermore, certainly not someone who probably had friends in secret scary government facilities who could get them hunted down for being a bloody bonkers vigilante…
Eventually, the sorcerer nodded slowly, “I think I can sense what remains of that spell deep in the folds of this spell, likely the connection to your subconscious. We can use this dream to manifest it the same way it manifests your waking world, it’ll actually be very simple.”
Steven swallowed a bit, gathering his voice. “Just, go in, find Jake and’ Marc, find the spell, get out?”
“Something like that.” He gestured to Steven and gave a nod, “You’ll have to create a doorway, same way you’ve created everything else in here. It’s your spell, after all.”
Your spell. Steven allowed himself to feel a bit of pride, unfolding his arms and giving a more confident nod in return. “Yeah, yeah alright. Right then!”
Turning to one of the only open spots on the walls- where the windows beamed in and there wasn’t a desk sitting in the way- “Alright, door to the subconscious, not all that unfamiliar really. Maybe just-”
For just a moment, the false sunlight was too bright to look at head on, and the next, when it had dimmed, a door sat in the wall now, as if it had been there the whole time. The door looked, unfortunately, like the same metal doors that the Duat had created in that afterlife psyche ward nightmare trip, foggy window and everything. Steven pouted a bit, sighing as an uncomfortable worry twisted in his stomach.
But he could do this, he’d done it once before and that time death had been on the line, this time, it was his mind and his spell. He could do this.
Doctor Strange raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at Steven, “A hospital door?”
“I really would prefer it if you didn’t ask,” he answered, stepping up to turn the handle, making it creak slightly.
The door swung inwards, and beyond the hall twisted sideways, dark but for a single dimly flickering light halfway down, swinging from an old looking cable. Papers covered the floor between cracked pieces of debris and overturned medical equipment. A thick layer of dust and grime seemed to cover everything, and in the corners where the walls were cracked worst, roots of something dark could be seen peeking through.
Steven swallowed hard and drew a flashlight from his suit pocket. He appreciated, for a split second, that it looked like his truncheons, but also like a flashlight, and the beam was bright enough to illuminate the hallway ahead. “Oh I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”
"That makes two of us,” Strange echoed, flicking his wrist and calling up a small glowing orb that sparkled a bit. “But if we’re going to break what’s left of the spell, this is our best bet.”
“Yeah, yeah alright…” Steven swallowed hard, taking a slow and steadying breath before starting forward into the darkness. “Let’s go before I change my bloody mind.”