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"You want to go back?" Stephen looked between T'Challa, Scott and Peter in growing disbelief. "Why?"
"It's our world." Peter fidgeted with his sling ring, sliding it on and off different fingers. "And there is a way to cure the zombies, we just... we didn't have enough time to. Or the resources. But if you're there-"
"Peter, I'm going to have to stop you right there. There's a difference between me hosting you in my pocket dimension and actually leaving it. The last time I left this place, I had to stop a multiversal threat."
"But-!"
"What is this plan, anyway?"
"Oh, I can answer this one! So, a little backstory on the zombie virus. It was carried out from the Quantum realm by Mrs Van Dyne, who then infected her husband, and me, then... you get the gist. But I recovered with help from the Mind Stone!" Scott nodded towards T'Challa and Peter. "Vision was luring people in with promises of the cure, only to feed them to his zombie bride, Wanda. T'Challa lost a leg, but I think he's still ahead of me."
Peter snickered, and T'Challa looked like he wanted to roll his eyes.
"Get it, because 'ahead'-"
"Yes, we get it, Scott." T'Challa sighed. "We came from Wakanda. The technology there is advanced enough to transmit the signal across the globe, and we managed to grab most of what we need before making our escape."
"And how will you get the Mind Stone to be broadcasted around the world?" Stephen was skeptical. This wasn't a plan, this was a wishlist. He inhaled sharply when another Infinity signature appeared in the pocket dimension.
"I've got the Mind Stone." Peter said, the Mind Stone glowing gently in his hand. "Vision gave it to us, as a... the last thing he did. He didn't want to leave Wanda."
Wordlessly, Stephen held out his hand, waiting for Peter to place the stone in his hand before levitating it. He peeled the metal and synthetic skin from around it, then encased it in a new shell, turning it into something like a USB drive. He then passed it back to Peter, who pocketed it.
"I can't leave this place. Not if there isn't a good reason to, but I can still help you. I believe Stark has a tower that is outfitted very thoroughly with the tech needed?"
"The Avengers Tower! FRIDAY can help us access the Net!" Peter looked down at the drive again, his voice pitching upwards. "And with Wakanda's tech-"
"I've modified the casing for the Mind Stone to be able to change the power into something that can be transmitted. Hopefully, this works." Stephen looked around at the small group. The last survivors of an undead planet.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
"Okay, Doctor Strange!"
"Ready as we'll ever be."
The portal opened up onto an empty floor of the Avengers Tower, and Stephen breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want zombies to come pouring in, after all. Not after he had opened a portal with the sole intent of pulling in Scarlet Witch to help with the fight against Ultron.
"Mr Parker, Your Majesty, Mr Scott. I am very pleased to see you alive and well."
"What is that?" Stephen demanded. "Who's there?"
"My name is-"
"FRIDAY!" Peter cheered. "It's nice to hear another familiar voice."
"Of course, Mr Parker." The AI (is that what FRIDAY was?) sounded fond as well. "And I as well."
"Will you all be fine?" Stephen asked.
"Yes, I think we will be. Thank you for your help, Doctor Strange. I am in your debt." T'Challa said solemnly. He stepped through the portal, giving Stephen time to examine the magical limb that he had made for him. It wasn't something that would last long term, but hopefully the Stephen Strange of that universe could sense the signature and come to help.
"Thanks for all your help, Doc. And thanks for letting me keep the Cloak; I know it was yours in my universe." Scott grinned. "I'll take good care of it."
"Take care of him, old friend." Stephen murmured to the garment, who tilted its collar in a signal of acknowledgement. They floated through the portal, leaving Peter alone.
"Come on, Peter. Your world is waiting for you." Stephen said softly.
"Stephen, what if- what if I fail? What if the world doesn't go back to the way it is?" Peter asked, his eyes wide and round with uncertainty. He looked so young in that moment.
"Hey, now. You'll be alright." Stephen smiled. "And the world will never be the same; you know that. You just try to make the best out of it."
Peter laughed, twisting the sling ring absently. "Were you a good therapist before this? Is this what you tell your patients?"
"No, actually. I was a neurosurgeon. And life taught me these lessons, not my patients, as callous as that sounds."
Peter bit his lip and nodded. "I'll miss you."
Stephen shrugged. "I'm sure the Stephen Strange of your world will be able to help you."
"No, but he isn't... you." Peter swallowed. "I can't look at another familiar face and have them be unable to recognise me, Doc."
"Peter, you coming?" Scott shouted from the other side. "We might need your help, this stuff is nothing like what Hank had!"
"Go." Stephen pushed him across the threshold gently. "Go save the world, Spiderman."
"So... is this an attempt at trying to get me to come out of my shell?" Stephen asked casually, flipping through a few of his books in the Sanctum to imbue them with his magic. He remembered the contents of a few, and he was trying to recreate his collection from memory. It was a suitably entertaining past time, and with each page restored, he felt a little more of the ambient magic return.
Interesting.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Oh come on." Stephen glanced at the Watcher. "All these people, somehow taking multiversal trips at the same time? Doesn't this count as endangering the fabric of reality?"
"I thought you liked it."
"Whether I like it or not isn't important. What I want to know if there would be potentially devastating consequences if I tried interacting with them more."
"There will be minimal consequences." The Watcher paused, seemingly taking in the new surroundings for the first time. "I didn't know you could recreate the Sanctum here."
"Neither did I. Before you ask, the pocket dimension is still safe." Stephen smiled. "I know how to keep important things safe."
"Like the Infinity Stone."
"Yes. I suppose so."
A pause.
"It's lonely." Stephen added, fingering the embellishments on the Eye.
"I am aware. Infinity Stones are not meant to be a singularity. In destroying the universe, you've destroyed five other pillars of reality."
Stephen laughed. "So what you're telling me is that I am the last thing keeping myself alive?"
"In a way." The Watcher didn't smile, but there was a deviation from the apathy that usually coated his words. "There is irony in that, I believe."
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Stephen walked to the large window where he had set up a small reading nook, his hand outstretched.
"Tea, or must you return to your duties?"
"The multiverse is not in danger of imminent damage, so I suppose I could stay."
"Good. Maybe you can tell me more about the stories you've seen."
"I have many."
"We have time."