A/N: Yay, okay, this is a fanfic I have been planning forEVER. This will probably span up through Avengers, then I'll have a sequel with Phase 2. This is all about Terry Stark and I really hope you guys enjoy.

I don't think I need to mention that I own nothing except for Terry and Eli, right?

KAMAR TAJ, TIBET, CHINA

I was told that my training wouldn't be normal. The others he had chosen, they could walk, stand, do things I couldn't anymore. That didn't stop me from being chosen, though. I personally think that I remind him of himself a little, being broken and downtrodden, without anyone who understood. As I lay on the cot I was given two nights ago, when I earned it for refusing to use these new powers on an innocent just because of an order, I began to think. Orders were my way of life just, well, what felt like weeks ago, maybe months. Time moved so different here, it was hard to tell at all if any time had passed anywhere else.

I could still hear the explosions, seeing comrades, friends being shot down right in front of me, seeing my brother's face just before the pain in my spine, in my legs, in my mind. It was as if every shout of pain from the others rang in my head too. I could remember seeing my father being dragged away as I couldn't move to do anything about it. The pain hit me, and my breathing started to become faster.

The screaming. Each time someone died there was always a scream. I could see them in front of me now, whispering. Why, Terry? Why couldn't you save us? You should have. You were a hero, weren't you?

"No!" I struggled to get away, but I couldn't, my legs like concrete, unyielding. "Please, no." My hand hit the ground first as I tumbled over the side of the cot, my limp legs tangled in the single blanket I had. Tears streamed down my face, the memories pounding in my head. "I'm sorry." I whimpered, I couldn't do more than that.

The door slammed open, light footsteps rushing over. "Theresa! Oh God, Theresa, it's okay." Strong arms encircled me as a hand brushed my hair gently. I cried into their shoulder, sobbing as memories began to fade under the surface once more.

"Theresa, can you look at me?" That voice, the voice of a teacher, of a mentor, of a friend. I slowly raised my head to meet my eyes with a pair of steely gray ones. Stephen Strange looked down at me, trying to hide his concern, albeit terribly. His dark hair was disheveled, that line between his brow beginning to appear. "Did you see them again?"

"They never stay away, no matter how hard I try." He enveloped me in an embrace as he had every morning before the chores where I was alone in my thoughts. I couldn't bear my thoughts without someone there, and it was always Stephen. His cloak, heavy cloth the color of a fresh rose, draped over me. "You said they would go away."

He brushed away a tear from my cheek. "Theresa, even magic has its limits on the human mind." He paused, and then sighed. "Would you like me to come with you into your memories?"

"I haven't seen everything yet, thought. Things are… fuzzy."

He smiled, hooking an arm under my knees, the other going around my waist. "We can still try, can we not? Remember what I told you?" He asked as he hoisted me onto the cot, letting me sit.

"Magic can do wonders if you believe in it."

"That's right. I chose you because I knew you could believe in the power you were gifted. Now," He took my hands in his, looking straight at me. "Where would you like to start?"

My brow furrowed as I thought, where did I want to begin? There wasn't a time, but I knew there had to be something…

"A little over a day before it happened."

"Then let us go. I'll be with you the whole time, okay?"

I just nodded.

LAS VEGAS

I looked at the girl in front of me in the mirror, checking the lipstick one last time. Forced to wear a tight red dress, dark hair falling straight across one shoulder. Almond shaped pale blue eyes stared back at me, nearly hidden in dark make-up. I was there in the bathroom, trying to get out of an award ceremony for my father, probably because I knew he wouldn't show.

"Terry! Hurry up." A fist banged on the door to the bathroom, probably hoping I would make the speech if good ol' Dad decided not to show up.

I wanted to be back in a world I knew well. The tech room at my father's house in Miami or on the battlefield. Both were simple, uncomplicated. They were things I knew well and I didn't have to hide behind a mask for.

"Theresa!"

With a heavy sigh, I pushed the door open.

KUNAR PROVINCE, AFGHANISTAN

I sat in the Humvee behind the one holding my father and brother, my gun clutched tightly in my hand.

"Hey, Terry, how's it feel to have the family back together?" I looked over at Adam Johnson, a Midwestern kid whose only option was to join the army or get a minimum wage job for the rest of his life. Intelligence wasn't his strong suit.

"We're not all together, Johnson. Mom's aging gracefully down in some South American country without us." My mother, Marilyn Guevara, Venezuelan model, natural blond from a grandparent and utterly seductive to my father. My twin, Eli, got her hair.

"Oh yeah, I always forget you guys are complicated."

I huffed, placing my gun across my lap as an explosion rocked the ground and the Hummer two in front of ours exploded.

Eli, I couldn't help but think. We were both nineteen and I couldn't let him get killed. Like Johnson, he needed this. "Johnson, Ramirez, I'm getting Jericho out." Jericho, the codename for my father on his trip. With a sharp kick, I dropped behind the Humvee opposite of gunfire, and began to run. The gunshots rang out all around me as if in slow motion and shot back without thinking, just trying to get to my brother. Eli was shooting down the attackers when I saw a truck prep another bomb. Running, I tackled him to the ground, kicking and pushing him under the Humvee as the blast rang out, heat hitting my back and a pang of pain radiating from my spine.

I could hear shouts of pain, but they didn't hit my ears. They hit me in my soul. The sound of anguish hit me as friends were murdered right in front of me. My head flopped to one side as I watched my father get dumped into a truck. I couldn't save him.

Eli was shaking me, his voice raked with sobs.

"Terry! Terry, get up!" I remember him yelling afterwards, but nothing else.

"Hey, I think she's waking up." The noise of the voice stung my head, just like the bright lights of wherever I was. I moved my hands, grabbing at sheets. Very slowly I pried open my eyes, blinking to adjust. Everything was white, and bright, a single plant in the corner of the room. I was in a bed, my legs covered, IV tubes in my arm, without touching I could feel an oxygen piece in my nose. Right in front of me were three people.

I saw my brother first. Eli took up most of the space. Approximately six four and still growing, gaining close to three hundred pounds of pure muscle. It was hard to see similarities between us except our eyes. His were clearer to see with his tanner skin and buzz cut blond hair. He was smiling gently, his hand on my bed.

Then there were Pepper and Happy, two of my dad's helpers and, I think, my friends. Both had a look of concern across their faces. My father wasn't there.

"What happened? Where am I?" I tried to sit up, but it felt like my legs were dead weight. "Am I like numb or something?"

Pepper grabbed my wrist lightly, saying, "Terry, you were in an attack in Afghanistan. You were hit. Right now we're in a hospital. And no, you're not numb."

Everything came back to me. "What?"

Eli rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous. "Ter, when you got hit, it, well, it hit your spine and legs."

I immediately flung the blanket off as much as I could, a quiet gasp coming out of my mouth. My legs were completely bandaged, parts braced and all looking unusable.

"I…" I couldn't ask it. "What happened to our dad?"

They all looked at each other. "They took him. The Army's made it their priority to find him as fast as possible."

I'd been in the hospital for a little over a week since I woke up and there was no change, no chance to fix my legs. Calls were made, shouts were heard, and tears were shed. None by me though. There was a chunk of ice, a hole that I couldn't mend since I found out my legs were useless. I was too shocked to react.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and a doctor I didn't know came in. "Hello Theresa, how are you today?"

"Who are you?"

The doctor smiled. He was probably in his late thirties, with dark hair combed back to expose white striped by his temples. He had a dark mustache and beard, similar style to my dad's. The thing that stood out was his eyes, which were a startling gray. "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange, I'm a neurosurgeon from the states."

I struggled to straighten up more, but my legs didn't want to cooperate. "Why are you here then?"

He just smiled. "Because, Miss Stark, I'm able to help you get your legs back."

I gasped, returning to the stone room in the temple, Stephen still there, still holding my hands as an anchor. Since that time in the hospital he took me here, as a way to help. I knew that everyone thought I was in a specialist's facility in Vienna. Instead, I was in a place of magic, where I could become a sorceress. And the one man who was starting to become a friend was the Sorcerer Supreme.

"Theresa Stark?" I looked up at him as he said my full name. Theresa Stark, daughter of billionaire Tony Stark and Marilyn Guevara. Corporal in the United States Army. Twin sister to Elijah, older by two hours. A holder of nearly two doctorates at only eighteen, birthday on August 27th.

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to learn how to get your legs back?"

A/N: Well? I'd love to hear your comments on this first chapter, and if you like Terry so far or not. Thanks, see you guys soon.