Chapter Text
The metallic scent of blood stood out sharply in the air which was usually filled with the aroma of different herbs that might invite a person to either think of a delicious recipe or a powerful potion, depending on their personal preferences. For Stephen this garden fulfilled another purpose than providing ingredients for culinary adventures. By no means was he an expert in brewing potent mixtures or in manufacturing healing balms. This particular field of the mystical arts had never really succeeded in capturing his interest for the simple reason that it had been made clear to him from the very beginning that nothing that he could apply to his skin or drink would lessen the tremor in his hands. Consequently, Stephen would refer to his skill as only slightly better than amateurish and that was a harsh sting itself.
No matter what Stephen had worked on during his lifetime, he had always looked down with loathing on the beginner state. From his earliest childhood there had been this drive inside of him, not only to succeed but to do better than everybody else. Growing up and being an adult had told him that it simply wasn’t possible to excel in every field, but Stephen had become the Sorcerer Supreme. Master of the mystical arts. He should be damned if he wasn’t able to come up with an ointment that could ease the feeling of skin being too tight, of it stretching over the bone in a way it shouldn’t.
So far Stephen had only been successful in cutting himself. A small trickle of blood was visible through the cut in his glove and Stephen looked down onto it with mixture of disdain and resignation. It didn’t come as a surprise. A man whose hands were suffering from a constant tremor should not choose gardening as a way to pass his time. He was bound to hurt himself. However, the multiple times that Stephen had come here before, he had left again with his skin unharmed. So this was a failure on his part. A lack of concentration when Stephen should easily be able to use magic to steady his hands without constantly thinking about it. More or less this was a step back to his very first days at the Kamar Taj, when he hadn’t had the simple ability to create a portal.
As he was pulling off his glove Stephen released a tired sigh. The wound was superficial, it had already stopped bleeding. Nonetheless Stephen interpreted it as a sign to return home, that he was done for today. Standing up he peeked into the small basket he had brought that was only partly filled herbs and greens. Tonight he would figure out what to do with them. Holding the basket loosely in his hurt hand Stephen opened a portal with the other one. His living quarters in the Sanctum Santorum lay right in front of him and within them Wong. Who wasn’t supposed to be there. For now Stephen decided not to be alarmed, because lately Wong was making a habit out of seeking him out personally when a mere phone call would be sufficient.
There was no hello, as usual. Wong simply entered the conversation directly by stating the obvious the very second Stephen had walked through the portal. “You are still trying out gardening? I thought you would have given it up by now.”
Only now, confronted with another person and the social obligation to talk to them, Stephen realised how sour his mood actually was. Wong wasn’t responsible though and Stephen would try his best to approachable. “People claim it to be very relaxing.”
“Looks rather dangerous to me.” Wong pointed out and gestured vaguely at Stephen’s hand. The reflex to hide it came instantly, only with actual effort Stephen managed to keep it where it was. “It’s only one lost battle, the plants can’t win the war.” Casually Stephen placed the basket on the table before turning back to his friend. “What are you doing here except for pointing out my feeble skills? I am almost getting used to seeing you around here lately.”
Some people might have considered that last statement as a reproach and Stephen thought it was possible that Wong did so too, but his friend had made a habit out of indulging him. Whatever morose or surly thing Stephen said Wong would give a response so dry and deadpan that it took the edge off Stephen’s words. Perhaps that was the main reason why their partnership was working rather well. Without Wong’s patience and willingness to overlook Stephen’s obvious flaws in the social aspects of life, they would have probably tried to murder each other by now.
“You are seeing quite a lot of me here, because you hardly leave the Sanctum anymore.”
“A rather odd thing to say right after you had to wait here for me because I wasn’t here.” Stephen pointed out, feeling tired of this conversation already. Along with the lassitude came a nagging feeling of guilt. Somebody was coming here to see him, it was wrong and arrogant to feel annoyed by that.
“Let’s not split hairs.” Wong remained as cool and stoic as ever. “I am here to update you on the progress we’ve made with the new recruits at the Kamar-Taj. You would get a clearer impression though if you were to come over yourself. In my modest opinion that would by the most effective method. The recruits would profit from it too.”
Despite himself Stephen did feel a little bit amused by that. “That clearly is the opinion of a man who has never had the wonderful opportunity to see me working as a doctor. Nobody else has been able to accumulate such a high reputation as the worst teacher imaginable. A colleague once accused of not actually wanting to teach anyone, because there was a risk they might eventually get ahead of me.”
After having heard that Wong turned up his nose. The way he narrowed his eyes stated clearly that he thought the other’s doctor’s opinion wasn’t worth a dime. Unlike him Stephen wasn’t so sure. “I am not asking you to teach. We both agreed that the Sorcerer Supreme has other things that he needs to focus his attention on. However, it should help them to actually see what they are aspiring to become.”
Stephen laughed drily. “Oh, they’re aspiring to become like me?”
Nonchalantly Wong shrugged. “I am definitely not encouraging them to steal books from the library or to mirror your irresponsibility or recklessness. But when it comes to magical abilities, yes. You are the gold standard. I am not going to repeat these words, by the way. Not without a severe threat to my life.”
Normally this was the moment for Stephen to deliver a comeback, some witty phrase drenched in sarcasm. Instead he hesitated. Gold standard. Wasn’t that supposed to look very differently? The gold standard should have been able to do more. “I suppose I could drop by when my gardening schedule allows it. To say hello and wave my hands around in eccentric motions.”
“That is all I am asking for.” Wong opened his arms invitingly and seemed content despite Stephen’s very vague agreement. Probably he had come here expecting even less. “I would love to make small talk about how your skills in creating potions still haven’t improved, but I got the Kamar Taj to run. Drop by any time you like. Better sooner than later. Feel free to bring herbs from your garden.”
Wong had the nerve to wink at him before conjuring a new portal. It would have been fairly easy to join him and walk right through it, but Stephen knew very well that he wouldn’t be of good use for anybody today. Unfortunately there was no guarantee that things would change until tomorrow or next week. Stephen was planning on putting off this visit for as long as his sense of duty would allow it.
Alone again Stephen slipped off his other glove. His hands turned out to be surprisingly steady as he put a Band-Aid over the small wound. When that was done Stephen grabbed the basket and went into the kitchen.
The only part the culinary world had ever played in Stephen’s life was to bore him out of his mind. For many years Stephen simply hadn’t seen the point in heating up the stove when there were about 1000 restaurants in Manhattan alone that were trying to make a living. This negligence had led to his embarrassing helplessness in the kitchen when Stephen wasn’t even trying to produce something edible. Stephen found no enjoyment whatsoever in heating up a pot of water and chopping up herbs. The effort it took to keep his hands steady enough to avoid maiming himself was considerable. Generally, the entire task was made tolerable only by the sounds of Love Affair’s ‘Everlasting Love’ filling not just the kitchen but the entirety of the Sanctum. When it had become clear that this place was going to become Stephen’s home, he had instantly called an electrician to install a sophisticated speaker system in every room. Connected to his hi-fi system and record player. Unsurprisingly this had earned him Wong’s disapproving gaze, because why couldn’t Stephen simply listen to his phone like a normal person. Just the thought of it was sacrilegious. Stephen wasn’t going to ruin a single song through subpar sound quality.
Stephen was putting the herbs into the boiling water as Everlasting Love faded out into Barry White. There was no time to marvel at the soul in his voice, even Stephen’s thoughts got interrupted by the sharp ringing of his phone.
It was Christine, once more being the one to call because Stephen was the worst person on the planet at starting a conversation. He just never managed to sound interested when he asked how someone was doing even if he was. Stephen had no appreciation inside of him for social norms that were only answered with lies anyway. Hardly anybody would say that their life had gone to shit. Which wasn’t the case with him. Life was actually better than it been in a long time. Maybe exactly that was the problem.
From the very first word he could tell that Christine was in a good mood and that of course had an impact on Stephen. Honestly, he could not imagine being able to cope on a daily basis if he knew that she wasn’t doing well. Then again, why wouldn’t she? Christine had done well for herself during the last six years, especially during the five when she hadn’t ceased to exist unlike so many others. Now she was finally the head of her department, deservedly so. Married for three years and a daughter who was an admittedly cute toddler. Stephen didn’t even like kids.
There was a lot of small talk and Christine mainly lamented the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in such a long time. Which was entirely Stephen’s fault.
“I know… I was terribly busy…” Stephen mumbled that bad apology while stirring the pot.
“Busying doing what? Saving the earth again? I sincerely hope that’s not the case. One world-ending event during my lifetime is more than enough.”
“I didn’t save the world. No, nothing like that. A few minor inconveniences. Most of what I am doing right now is monitoring. I don’t have much of an excuse.”
Christine laughed and Stephen thought he could hear the voice of an infant in the background. “I didn’t expect anything else. How do you intent to make this up to me? I think lunch next Thursday sounds like a good idea.”
Stephen nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Fantastic. You do know that you will have to tell me everything about that woman. Sheryl.”
Her probing was supposed to be gentle, but Stephen immediately felt the urge to talk about pretty much anything else. Despite Christine’s best intentions Stephen would never feel at ease talking with her about his love life. Which was non-existent for the most time. “There is not much to tell. She hasn’t called me in three days. Neither have I. I don’t think either of us is particularly keen on doing so.”
Since Christine was a good person she instantly felt bad about having touched a sore spot. “I am sorry to hear that.”
Stephen wasn’t, he had a very realistic view of things. The snap hadn’t been as kind to Sheryl as it had been to Christine. Nothing but ashes had remained of her while her fiancé had continued to live. After a period of heart-wrenching despair, depression and mourning her fiancé had accepted what could not be changed. Ultimately he had moved on. Then, against all odds, somebody had changed it all. Had saved the entire universe. Sheryl had returned from the ashes and had found her fiancé in the arms of another woman. His new wife. To him Sheryl had been gone for five years, to her it hadn’t felt longer than the time it took to close one’s eyes. Stephen was by no means sentimental, but these kinds of cases made him ask himself how much heartache a person could take. Maybe more and yet it was already too much.
During the last 12 months Sheryl had been busy trying to reorganise her life after having been brought back. No fiancé, new job, new home, half of the people she knew were suddenly five years older than before. Stephen and she had met by accident in a rather bizarre way. They had happened to visit the same bookstore when a young man had collapsed right in front of the cashpoint. After rendering first aid and waiting for emergency services they had started talking and Stephen had ended up feeling a little bit blindsided when she had given him her phone number. Despite his most strenuous and hardest efforts Stephen wasn’t quite able to figure out how he could have attracted her attention in that kind of way. It was beyond him.
Eventually they had gone on two dates which had been rather pleasant but nothing more. Stephen thought that she was an attractive and likable woman, someone he would like to be more interested in. If he had to guess, he would suppose she felt the exact same way. Slowly this short-lived relationship was already fizzling out. Although Stephen hadn’t been looking for a romantic involvement, he had discovered within himself that he enjoyed the idea of it. Christine had been the last person he had been able to imagine to share this with. Now it seemed more like an abstract concept.
“Don’t bother. It wasn’t something that either of us was very invested in. I am looking forward to Thursday though.”
“You are not going to bail on me last minute, aren’t you? If I am to spend several hours in the kitchen, I want more than one person to appreciate it. I’ll have your skin if you don’t show up.” Only by the end was she teasing him and Stephen definitely didn’t miss that actual hint of worry. There was no way he could blame her, trying to get out of a meeting wouldn’t be out of character for him. During their relationship Stephen had especially excelled in this particular area. “I am going to be there, promise.”
“I’ll believe it when I see you on the front porch. Don’t forget to bring a bottle of wine.”
Stephen promised once more and they continued their conversation for about two more minutes. Then Stephen focused again on his pitiful attempt at making a potion. Barry White had ceded his place to Billy Joel. Humming to himself Stephen leaned against the counter and closed his eyes to concentrate on what he was hearing. A long time ago Stephen had moved a scalpel to the rhythm of this song. In another life. Things had been easier back then. Not once had Stephen felt a tinge of guilt after losing a patient on the operating table. When he had still been a surgeon Stephen had never doubted that he had done everything he had been able to do. Less than 100 percent hadn’t existed for him. Stephen missed that time. Desperately.
A flash of light appeared. So bright that Stephen perceived it despite having his eyes closed. The air was sizzling with electricity and power. For a second Stephen thought that he had to get ready to counter an attack, but then the familiarity of this aura hit him with full force.
For the second time this evening Stephen sighed and inwardly scolded himself for it. Neither did he have any plans for tonight, nor was he expecting someone. Thor didn’t come at a bad time. He was an estranged friend and Stephen still wished that the god of thunder would have chosen another day. Week. Over the last couple of months Stephen had grown fond of the silence in his home. After turning off the stove Stephen walked into the entrance hall of the Sanctorum. Just a second later the main door flew open with a loud bang and Stephen winced from the sound of wood hitting the wall. This time he wouldn’t allow Thor to get within five metres of any artefact.
Thor’s big, bulky form looked most definitely out of place in the Sanctorum, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by that. Or he simply wasn’t aware, also quite possible. With his giant axe in one hand Thor opened his arms widely, a cheerful smile on his lips. “Wizard Strange! How are you faring on this merry day, my friend?”
“I was feeling rather good right until my doors almost got shattered.”
Loud and unhinged, Thor’s laughter fitted him perfectly. “Midgardian craftwork is not made to withstand Asgardian strength. It is good to see you, my friend! It has been a long time.”
Even right in front of him Thor showed no intention of stopping and Stephen casually raised a hand to escape the impending hug. Surprisingly it was enough to have Thor stop. That overwhelming smile didn’t waiver and instead of pulling Stephen into the crushing hug like he had wanted to Thor patted Stephen’s shoulder. Which also wasn’t made for Asgardian strength.
“Hello Thor. I thought you were off to discover the last hidden corners of the universe. What can I do for you?” Stephen thought it was best to get to the point right away. With Thor there was always a risk of him getting carried away telling some fabulous story.
“I would indeed be very agreeable if you were to offer me some of the delicious beverage I consumed the last time I was here.”
Stephen was pretty sure that Thor knew the word beer very well, but he wasn’t going to start correcting Thor’s speech. Eventually they found themselves in the same position as the first time they had met. Same chairs, same big glass full of beer in Thor’s hand. Everything else couldn’t be more different. In nobody’s physique was the impact of the snap more visible than in Thor’s. The handsome face had almost disappeared behind a long, unkempt beard and while his shoulders were still broad and strong, his muscular chest had been replaced by a big belly that was a testimony of seeking comfort or relief in food and alcohol. A change so blatant and radical that nobody could possibly miss it. They might have met only one single time before Thanos’ arrival, but that one time had been enough for Stephen to get familiar with Thor’s smile. Always big, radiant and cheerful. That part had not changed. On second glance though that smile could easily be exposed as superficial. Thor’s eyes and his smile didn’t match. They were part of two different expressions. Joyful and melancholic.
One year ago everybody had returned from the ashes, but Thor had been unable to go back to the way he had been before. Or perhaps he hadn’t wanted to.
“So how have you been?”
Thor wiped off the remains of his latest gulp of beer with the back of his hand. “Most marvellous. The Guardians and I have fought many glorious battles and explored the most exotic worlds. Our name is cherished and known all over this galaxy as people sing songs of our great deeds.”
Stephen smirked involuntarily. He hoped it didn’t look too patronizing. There was no doubt about Thor’s qualities as a story teller, but his audience should be aware that most of it needed to be taken with a grain of salt. It might just be the Asgardian style to use hyperboles and to make the most tedious event sound like an exciting rush. “I am sure that there was a lot of singing. Not every quest could have been glorious, otherwise why would you be here?”
This was the first time today Stephen saw Thor’s smile falter. Obviously he was confused. “How have you come to this conclusion?”
Stephen shrugged. “Don’t misunderstand, but the two of us do not have what people would call a close relationship. In fact we haven’t seen each other in months. I suppose you are here to seek assistance. That is not a reproach. It’s the whole point of this place. Do you need my help?”
Before he answered Thor emptied his glass. Only now there was a hint of sheepishness in his demeanour, but he knew how to play it down. “I have never been one to refuse a helping hand. Even when I wasn’t in need of one. The situation we find ourselves in is in no way dire. I have no reason to believe that me and my friends would be unable to find a solution if we let a few more days pass and try to think of something. Be it as it may, there are certain times and circumstances that would render the support of a magician incredibly useful.”
Such words coming from a character like Thor was shockingly close to humility. The only response Stephen had at the moment was “Sorcerer. Sorcerer Supreme.”
“I find it hard to keep up with all the different titles. What I meant to say is that the Guardians encountered a magical foe and we agreed that your expertise would be most… helpful. What do you say, Strange?” Thor was now beaming at the prospect of fighting together while Stephen felt no temptation whatsoever. Temptation didn’t play that big of a part though. If this was a magical threat Stephen had to get involved anyway, that was his duty.
Nodding softly Stephen made an inviting gesture. “Go ahead. Tell me about the situation that you don’t have the time to get out of yourself.”
The story was rather simple and told very quickly. Stephen had been aware that the Guardians were still working for hire. All around the galaxy they would help other people out with their troubles. Stephen’s assistance was needed to deal with the most recent trouble. A magical entity, Thor described it as a beast made of smoke, was terrorising the people of a small, isolated planet in a distant corner of the galaxy. The planet itself was a source of pure, supernatural energy that the inhabitants used in their daily life, their whole society depended on it. Now the so called beast made of smoke was leeching off that energy, coming dangerously close to sucking the planet dry. Until now all of the Guardians’ weapons had been ineffective and that was where Stephen came into play.
“The information you have on this entity is rather sparse. Is there nothing else you can tell me about it?”
“It’s smoke. Black. With red edges.”
This time Stephen did not feel bad for sighing. By now he was definitely used to non-magic users not doing enough research when they were dealing with the supernatural. They tended to foolishly believe that a gun or a knife could take care of anybody. Which was technically true, but a lot harder to achieve than people thought. “You will have to be way more precise than that, Thor. I am not entering a fight without knowing exactly who I am facing.”
“I suppose Rocket can tell you more than me. He did some research.”
At least a small silver lining was visible on the horizon. Having made his decision Stephen stood up and opened a portal. He felt the soft and comforting weight of the cloak of levitation settling on his shoulders. “Then let’s go. I would like to get this done before dinner.”
***
On the Guardians’ ship Stephen did find indeed a little bit more information and useful video data. Combined with some of his own books Stephen came to conclusion that Thor and the others wouldn’t have been able to deal with the situation they had on their hands. An interdimensional threat. Stephen’s favourite kind. According to the books the entity was able to travel between the dimensions at will. Fighting it was dangerous, because it also had the power to send other people away. However, Stephen was quick to work out a strategy by ignoring all of Rocket’s and Thor’s ridiculous ideas. One might think that they had never seen a magical being before.
Due to necessary preparations and the major inconvenience that the entity refused to stick to Stephen’s schedule, he missed dinner after all. For an uncertain amount of time they had to lie in wait for the entity to show up. On a spaceship. Out in space. Probably the one place where Stephen wanted to be the least. It was too loud. Thor and Peter Quill constantly tried to outdo each other in pretty much anything. Notably eating, drinking and made-up stories about their achievements. Rocket kept nagging Stephen about wanting to buy the cloak of levitation and the one named Drax was still just odd. Mantis kept aside and Stephen was perfectly sure that he was the reason for that. The shy look on her face and the tendency to lower her eyes whenever their gazes crossed reminded him of the effect he used to have on med students. It was easy to assume that the recruits at the Kamar-Taj would react similar to him. No, Stephen didn’t have a good time, but at least Quill did have decent taste in music.
Lounging in his seat Stephen was engrossed in his book, gladly ignoring Thor’s attempt to involve him in their silly competition as some sort of referee. It was only when a small shadow fell over him that Stephen raised his head. To his bewilderment Mantis had finally dared to approach him although she clearly wasn’t feeling at ease about it. The forced, tensed smile on her face was speaking volumes. If Stephen wasn’t going to speak up first, she would probably continue to stare at him for hours, struggling to come up with something to say. “Can I help you?”
“I was merely wondering how you’ve been doing. The last time I saw you, was a year ago. Right after everything turned back to how it’s supposed to be.”
There was honesty to her smile that almost had Stephen shuddering. The naivety of it. “Things did not go back the way they are supposed to be.”
Instantly her smile fell she had lost the courage to look into Stephen’s eyes. He definitely felt bad for that. “You are right. Of course not. I think I never thanked you for what you did on Titan. You came up with a way to save all of us.”
Stephen could feel his guts clench and twist. He tried not to let it show. “I did not come up with anything. I merely saw what was going to happen. Which way could work and that was the one I chose for us.”
Mantis nodded softly and Stephen could see the tip of her tongue wetting her upper lip. There still something she wanted to say and she didn’t know how to. Stephen desperately wished that she would prolong the silence. Forever. A wish that would not be granted. Mantis said what was weighing on her mind, using a small voice. The one of a child. “It must have been such a heavy burden to carry. All alone. On Titan. I could feel your sadness without even touching you. It was heart-wrenching.”
Stephen winced and fought the urge to stand up and leave. An empath looking inside of him was among the worst things his mind could come up with. She had felt his sadness? It couldn’t have been so bad. Otherwise Stephen would have continued searching, looking for another way. There were endless possibilities after all. Infinite layers of dimensions and timelines. 14 000 605 was a pathetically small number.
“I did not mean to upset you.” Mantis said quickly because she had obviously sensed Stephen’s distress. Now he was the one unable to say anything. “Things didn’t go back to normal for everyone. You are not the only one who came back scarred.” She slowly turned her head in Thor’s direction. The god was laughing loudly at something, a half full glass in his hand. “His feelings are so very similar to yours. That guilt woven into sadness. It’s there constantly. No matter how bright a smile might be.”
His own misery was enough for Stephen to constantly ignore. If Thor was indeed covering up his own depressed feelings, then he definitely had a reason for it. Stephen understood better than anybody what it meant to want to be left alone. This notion made him remember how to use his tongue. “People’s feelings are like their thoughts. They belong to them and can only be shared if they desire to do so.”
Ashamed Mantis bowed her head. “I am sorry. I am not doing it on purpose. It is a constant buzz in the background. I am not even trying and I can feel it. You are right nonetheless. Of course, I did wrong. I had no right to tell you. I am sorry.”
With quick steps she rushed away from him and Stephen had never been more thankful for an attack.
The entity matched Thor’s description rather well. A mass of black smoke that seemed to be burning. Until now all of the Guardians’ attacks had gone right through it, Stephen’s job was to give them an actual form to use their weapons on. In general the concept was shockingly simple. A quick conjuration and a binding spell to keep it in place. Stephen hadn’t expected it to be so strong though. From the very second he had trapped the entity in his binds, Stephen knew that he would not be able to hold it for very long. “Attack it! Now!”
They did and it was effective. Stephen could feel it writhe in pain, fighting him. He only needed to hold on a little longer. It was then that Thor’s lightening hit it and the entity exploded. Stephen’s binds broke apart and small columns of smoke were raining down on them.
“Yes! We did it! Take that you stupid son of a bitch!”
Stephen barely heard Rocket’s cry of triumphant. He watched one of the columns sailing towards the ground and then going right through it. Leaving behind a hole filled with red light and shapes that resembled nothing that Stephen had ever seen before. At least not in this world.
“Run! They cannot touch you!”
There was confusion, but they knew better than not to listen to him. All of them started to run, but Stephen already knew that they didn’t have a chance. Hundreds of smoke particles were coming down, it was impossible to outrun them. Stephen’s mind was racing.
Five of them. Scattered all around this field. Running off in different directions. Not all of them were in his field of vision. Stephen put all of his energy and concentration into it as he conjured five different portals. As close to each of them as he possibly could. Relieved Stephen heard Drax’s faint cry when he fell into safety. Stephen couldn’t wait to make sure that the other ones would reach theirs too. Right in front of him Stephen opened his own portal, on the other side he could see the busy streets of New York. All he had to do was to take one step. The very moment Stephen did that he felt a pulling sensation in the back of his neck. For a second the thought crossed his mind if his dread was so intense that Mantis would able to feel it. Pulling turned into merciless dragging and then Stephen felt like he was being torn apart. Fire seemed to be running down his back, burning away his hair, melting all of his skin down to his heels. In his nose was the smell of New York, Stephen could feel the sunshine on his face. Two different places were trying to pull him in and Stephen was fighting not to be ripped into two. His own agonizing scream was ringing in his ears when the darkness swallowed him whole.
***
Stephen remembered the fresh scent of grass and herbs, but this wasn’t his garden. Only slowly Stephen became aware of his whereabouts. The ground he was lying on was hard and rough.
“Sir, are you alright?”
Every muscle in his body was hurting. As if fists had been raining down on him. Stephen knew if he was going to open his eyes, he would be dizzy. Maybe even lose consciousness. Even now with his eyes closed Stephen thought that the world was spinning.
“Sir, do you need help?”
Somebody was talking to him. It didn’t sound like anybody of the Guardians. A New York accent. Which made no sense. Stephen hadn’t quite made it through the portal and one of the smoke columns must have touched the back of his neck. It had tried pulling him into another dimension while Stephen had stepped through a portal. He was lucky to still be in one piece.
“Sir?”
Slowly Stephen opened his face and his vision was indeed blurry, but he didn’t pass out again. Maybe half a minute later he felt sure enough to sit up and to actually take in his surroundings. This was New York and it couldn’t be. Stephen knew that he hadn’t made it through the portal. He couldn’t have. So where was he?
“Sir, you…”
“I’m fine.” Stephen muttered quickly to get rid of whoever was talking to him. The possibilities were infinite. What version of reality had he been pulled into? What dimension? Stumbling onto his unsteady feet Stephen took a look around to see a city that was perfectly familiar and yet somehow different.
A wave of nausea overcame him and Stephen supported himself on the next best surface which turned out to be a newsstand. As soon as the black spots had stopped dancing in front of his eyes Stephen took a look at one of the newspaper. He probably had hit his head, because what he saw made no sense.
May 21st, 2013