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It had been three days, and Strange had decided to take matters into his own hands.
Odin had been in the "care" of the Shady Acres Care Home ever since Loki dropped him off on Monday. Through one of the Sanctum Sanctorum's many surveillance systems, Strange had watched the exchange go down.
The drop-off had been brief, but he had been able to glean the basics: Odin's memories had been erased or compromised. Thor had been off-world – off both worlds, apparently, given that he was neither on Earth nor Asgard – for some time, leaving the throne of Asgard empty. Loki had taken full advantage of this, of course, disguising himself as Odin just so he could play king. Thor had evidently been tricked into believing Loki was dead, leaving the Jotun free to rule as he wished.
Just the usual Asgardian-family drama.
Ordinarily, Strange wouldn't have felt the need to intervene – after all, all of Asgard's conflicts on Earth had resolved themselves in the past – but this was different.
Something bigger was coming. Something much bigger, and far more threatening, was looming on the horizon, and Strange was taking every precaution he could to ensure Earth's safety. He was Sorcerer Supreme now – it was more or less in the job description. And he would feel much more comfortable about the safety of Earth if the Allfather, guardian and protector of the Nine Realms, was back on Asgard's throne.
Past all the good-and-noble phrasing, though, this was still the last place Stephen wanted to be right now.
He now waited in the "apartment" that Odin had been given. The square room was just large enough to fit a geriatric-grade hospital bed, a nightstand, and a three-drawer dresser. Everything either smelled like disinfectant or urine; there was no comfortable in-between. One chair, which might have been upholstered once, had been awkwardly angled into a corner, most likely just to hide the weird stain on the wall behind it.
Strange sat on the chair, arms folded in front of him. He had entered the room a little over a minute ago via a sling-ring portal – an easy doorway straight from the Sanctum to here.
Lifting his arm, Strange swiveled the watch on his wrist and checked the time.
1:07. Lunchtime at Shady Acres started at 12:15. Based on the amount of time it had taken Odin to finish lunch the past two days, he should be coming back to his room right about. . .
The door unlocked and started to open.
. . . now. Strange tried not to feel smug. He liked being punctual, and with the help of the sling-ring portals, he was able to time his comings and goings with pinpoint accuracy.
His smile faded immediately, however, when he caught sight of Odin in the doorway.
The Allfather looked haggard.
He was hunched over on himself and moved slowly, like he might break at any moment. White hair hung in clumps around his face, casting a darker shadow over his sunken cheeks and pale skin. A stark-white medical eyepatch covered his missing eye.
Everything about his appearance seemed wrong – every ounce of kingly dignity had been stripped away, leaving behind nothing but an old, lost man.
Strange didn't like to see Odin like this. He shifted on the chair, making it squeak, and cleared his throat.
Odin started in surprise, his one good eye twitching upwards and looking confusedly around the room. When he caught sight of Strange, he gasped and took a step back. "Who –" he said.
"Don't worry," Strange said quickly, "I'm a friend."
There was a stretch of silence as Odin looked Strange over. "I don't. . . I can't remember," he said finally, sounding uneasy. Keeping his gaze fixed on Strange, he shook his head. "I don't know who you –"
"Thor," Strange said.
Odin was caught off-guard by the interruption. He furrowed his eyebrows, uncomprehending. "What –"
"Frigga, Loki, Heimdall, Fandral, Rainbow Bridge, Sif, Mjolnir," Strange continued, rattling off the names in quick succession. He narrowed his eyes, studying Odin's face. He would take anything – the slightest hesitation, the slightest double-take, the slightest flicker of recognition. "Any of those sound familiar? Any name, at all?"
Odin had taken another step back, his back pressed up against the door. "Who are you?" he asked again, his voice weaker. "What do you want?"
Strange breathed heavily through his nose. "It's okay," he said after a moment, his voice gentler. "Forget it." He had already learned what he needed to know. There hadn't been a single flicker of recognition in Odin's eyes, only wariness. Suspicion. Fear.
The sorcerer stood up sharply from the chair, and the Cloak of Levitation swung down around his feet. He tipped his chin up, indicating the Allfather. "I need you to hold still."
Odin froze.
Mouth partway open, it seemed like he was about to speak, but he remained absolutely still. Frozen in time.
A gentle green glow encapsulated the Asgardian.
"Thank you," Strange muttered. Both hands hovered inches above the Eye of Agamotto around his neck, poised in such a way that his ring fingers and thumbs touched. The Eye had been opened, showing off the glowing green gem inside.
Surely he couldn't get in trouble from Wong for this. He wasn't manipulating the time stream, per se, he was just. . . pausing it. Just for a little while.
He walked around Odin until he was standing directly behind him. Slowly, Strange lifted his hands away from the Eye. The Infinity Stone held the spell by itself, and Odin remained still.
Doctor Strange lightly pressed two fingers to the nape of Odin's neck, the soft spot just below the skull. Frowning deeply in concentration, he held up his other hand and made a rotating motion with his fingers.
A soft red glow came from beneath Odin's skin, almost as if someone was shining a light from the inside out. The brain glowed visibly from beneath the skull.
It was time to see what had really happened to the Allfather's memories.
Keeping his left hand on Odin's neck, Strange flicked his right wrist back and forth. Different portions of the brain lit up, and he quickly sorted through them.
Memory was a complicated thing. There wasn't one single localized area where all memories were stored (which would have made this much easier) – instead, different types of memories were embedded in all different parts of the brain.
Motor memory. Short-term memory. Spatial reasoning. Temporal context. No, no, no, and no. . . . Strange flipped quickly through each portion of the brain, searching for what he was really after. Episodic memory. . . episodic memory! Bingo.
Essentially, episodic memories were the ones that remembered who Odin was – visual snapshots of past events, emotions attached to those events, patterns of everyday life – pretty much everything Loki would want Odin to forget.
Strange lifted his right hand, and a holographic-looking tangle of nerves lifted away from Odin's head. They spanned almost the entire surface area of the brain, forming a delicate network of memories.
Strange's eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell. . . ?" he muttered under his breath.
Smoky, black-green magic entangled every nerve, blocking impulses from the entire network.
This was undoubtedly Loki's doing, but Strange had to admit he was surprised. The spell itself was a fairly simple one – bordering on crude. It was a fix-it-quick sort of solution as far as memory-erasing went, and one of the most well-known tricksters in the galaxies had used it on his own father.
Strange felt a twinge of disgust. Not because Loki had done this to Odin – it was more how Loki had done it. He couldn't help it. Sloppiness irritated him.
It didn't matter now; the damage had already been done. This spell was like an oil spill in the brain; it was ugly, it was unnatural, and it was going to take a lot of time and effort to clean up.
The thing was, Strange's skill level far surpassed Loki's spell. He could break it easily – it would take little more than an 'Abracadabra' and a snap of his fingers, and the spell would shatter into pieces.
The problem was the brain. Memory was a delicate thing, meaning he wouldn't just break the spell – Odin's memories would also shatter like glass.
"Okay," Stephen muttered. With a few quick hand motions, all the holographic images snapped back into Odin's head, and the light faded. Letting out a long sigh, Strange rubbed his temples and walked back to the chair in the corner.
They were going to have to do this the long way round.
It happened so quickly, Odin just assumed he had blinked.
The stranger in his room was sitting on the chair. Then he stood up, quickly, and brought both hands to his chest, and suddenly – he was standing a foot to the left, without ever even moving.
Odin must have blinked. Just another tiny lapse in memory. It was possible, even likely.
Just as quickly, the stranger lowered his hands. There was a little flare of green light on his chest, but even as Odin noticed it, the light seemed to vanish like a tiny star.
Without warning, pain pulsed through Odin's head. He let out a groan and pressed a palm to his forehead.
"Are you okay?" the stranger asked, and Odin was surprised by the genuine concern in his voice. "Headache?" He tsked his tongue, as if disappointed with himself. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. "My fault. You'll feel fine in twenty seconds, I promise."
Odin lifted his head, ignoring the pain, and studied the stranger, scrutinizing him carefully.
The man looked right back at him. His eyes were remarkable, such a bright blue they were almost white.
"What do you want?" Odin asked. "What do you want with me?"
"With you?" the man repeated. He shook his head to one side. "Nothing. I just want you right back where you were before this whole mess started. Where you should be.
"But there's a slight problem," he continued, frowning at the floor. "You don't know who you are."
"And yet, it seems you do." Odin narrowed his eyes at this man, this stranger.
The man's eyes moved up to meet Odin's again. "I'm sorry, I haven't been completely honest with you," the man said after a minute, his voice gravelly. "You don't know me. We've never met – well, at least not until a minute ago – but I know who you are, and at the moment you don't even remember that much. So I would take my offer. I can take you to a safe place until you remember everything you need to know."
Odin took a moment to reply, moving his lips soundlessly for a moment. "Who are you?" he said finally. "Who are you, really?"
"My name is Doctor Strange." The stranger offered his hand to shake and gave Odin a short, polite smile. "And I'm here to help you remember everything you've lost."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I apparently like filling in the tiny gaps the MCU leaves behind, and Odin's story between TDW and Ragnarok was one of them. I am affectionately calling this story a "three-shot", meaning there will be three chapters in total. Hope you enjoy!
Cover image is from the Marvel Wikia, with my editing.