A/N: Again, I'm speechless at the amount of support and motivation you guys are giving. Your reviews make my day and are just the cherry on top of the giant fandom cake :D College has prevented me from updating sooner than 3 today, but that's just the way it goes until the weekend I'm afraid. Anyway, this chapter follows along with the last, but after this they will continue on their own verse. Also, the memories of what happened will still be in Stephen's mind so these memories won't vanish if you're wondering. SkyHighDisco-new, I will keep your idea in mind for future chapters:) Enjoy!

Chapter 4: The Promise

~S~

Stephen woke up the next morning, fully refreshed and hungry. Careful not to… wake the cloak- an odd enough thought to be having in the morning. He carefully started to wriggle out from underneath his sleeping garment.

But was it really sleeping? Stephen found himself questioning that one line every day now. When it came down to it, Stephen's logical mind wouldn't give into the possibility no matter how many times he pondered it. He saw it one way. If an artifact was created to defend his life, then the benefits of not needing sleep would aid the cloak to better protect him in case he had any nightly intruders intent on harming him.

His stomach rumbled, coaxing him to put this thought on the back-burner. After some careful maneuvering and the use of a few pillows, he managed to slip out from the bed and into the bathroom to take a quick shower, before heading into the kitchen where he set to making some toast and coffee.

Wait… Bed? Wong must have moved us from the chair during the night, Stephen mused, but decided he was grateful for the intervention. The chair he had collapsed into wouldn't have given him a good night sleep, but instead, achy muscles and a back that would feel like he'd gone a round with Black Widow. Yeah, he was never doing that again. At least, not without padding.

The kitchen itself was nearly spotless when he got there, but Stephen still found signs of Wong's early breakfast regime. It was an observation game he would play with himself some days.

The toast jumped in the apparatus a few minutes later and Stephen slathered butter on it before setting it on a plate, his coffee soon joining the arrangement on the dining room table.

There he sat for the next 5 minutes.

When he finished and turned to get up, he found the cloak floating beside him about knee-height. And Stephen swore that it was pouting.

He raised an eyebrow at its behavior, pouting being a new development.

"Look, you were asleep."

Was that really right though? Did the cloak sleep? He definitely needed to monitor that more closely.

"I didn't want to wake you." The word felt awkward on his tongue. Plus the fact that he was apologizing to the cloak for leaving the bed like it was some relationship spat. What was happening to him?

The cloak's collar lowered more.

Stephen stayed strong. For about 5 seconds.

"I apologize," the doctor blurted out. "Now can you please stop making that… face at me…" he grumbled, still keeping his eyes on it.

The cloak seemed to be happy with this and perked up, floating over and settling down on his shoulders.

Stephen frowned. "Was it you who left that message on the bathroom mirror?"

The cloak almost seemed to shrug.

The writing sounded an awful lot like Wong, considering the it was all in capital letters.- Wong was still getting a hang of the English language. But upon hearing, or seeing the cloak confess to scribbling it up just ruined his whole thought process. This was also a new development, writing notes. Though he supposed it wasn't too farfetched considering the ends of the cloak had a point that was a suitable replacement for a finger.

Wait, what am I saying! Stephen mind-shouted, too enraptured to remember that he had thought it not said it. The important and apparently overlooked detail was cloak didn't have a brain so it wasn't possible. Yes, now his gears were turning in the right direction.

The cloak sensed his discomfort and folded its collars inward towards Strange's neck, eliciting a muscle to tense before it relaxed.

Stephen snapped out of his mental reverie, shrugging as he became aware of a familiar sensation.

He used to think the cloak was infatuated with his neck, but as time passed it turned out that the cloak was just as crazy for his arms, hands, legs, or toes. Why toes? Well, Strange hadn't really got to the bottom of that yet. Of course, he had his suspicions that as long as the cloak had any kind of bodily contact it was content. Though, his chest seemed to be a favorite warm-spot, and only his chest. The cloak had never shown the same affection with Wong or Christine.

The doctor recalled the Ancient One's words on the planet. "The cloak has had one specific purpose since its creation. To defend your life at all costs."

Strange was chosen. That had to be it.

Revisiting the brief memory brought another one to the surface, a painful one.

"How are you feeling?" Stephen asked, filling the stretch of silence. As much as he wanted to blot out the entire day yesterday, he knew he should check on his friend's progress. Yes, friend sounded sane. He was friend's with a magical piece of fabric. …. Okay, perhaps he still needed some time before saying that… or thinking that again.

Upon hearing the question presented, the cloak flew into the air and did a few playful backwards somersaults before landing on his shoulders again.

Strange chuckled. He'd take that as a good sign.

"Stephen."

Strange turned his head to find Wong trotting up to them, the speed of his steps denoting the urgency of his message.

"What is it?" he asked, standing.

"There's an intruder in the city. I saw an alien being with long legs climbing up the Empire State Building. It looks like a beetle, but it's the size of a car. And by my calculations it will reach this Sanctum in an hour."

Strange's features hardened. "I'll be there immediately."

The librarian replied with, "I will act as your replacement and guard the Sanctum in your place."

Strange started walking out until he felt the absence of the familiar weight on his shoulders. He paused, turning around.

The cloak was freely floating a few feet behind him, unmoving except for the small oscillations of upward and downward movement as it hovered.

Stephen furrowed his brow. He tried to manually pull it with him. It didn't end well.

He almost felt like he was running on a hamster wheel or caught in a morphed reality by Kaecilius again. Why the cloak was being so stubborn eluded him. He turned back frustratedly at it. "Why are you slacking? It's time to go."

Stephen spared a glance at Wong, but one look told him he didn't possess any answers either to the perplexing problem. He turned back to the cloak with a look of determination.

"Then I guess I'll just have to go without you."

Strange started walking away, smirking at the brilliance of his wit. The cloak had been created to defend his life, so if he threatened to go alone Strange knew that the cloak would have no choice but to come along. Albeit, it wasn't very nice, but when the city was in danger those measures had to be taken in spite of a garments preferences.

Strange peeked around him to find the cloak, gladly following behind. But to his surprise its collar was down and it looked like it was moping through the air slowly, not bothering with the sweet human contact the cloak seemed to crave on a daily basis. Something was definitely wrong.

But how was he going to find out what that was?

Then it occurred to him. Grabbing a sheet of loose-leaf paper and a pencil from the drawer in the dining room table, he motioned the cloak to come over before placing the paper flat. "Forget everything you think you know." Strange heard the faint whisper in his mind, but chose to ignore it.

Stephen spoke, simply as he fixed his eyes on the cloak. "Write with that pencil what you want to tell me."

The cloak curled one of its flaps around the pencil and began to write out the message: You promise you would make up for huting me

The garment then proceeded to turn back to Stephen who was exchanging shocked looks with Wong. Finally, the cloak had both of their attentions.

Stephen had looked paler than the cloak had ever seen him. Well, except for that one occasion.

Strange exhaled, then blinked a few times.

How the cloak was able to write in nearly perfect English was astonishing, but the pang of underlying misery shone through the words on the page and Strange remembered that he had promised the cloak to make up the previous day. So, the city was going to have a guardian of a different ranking defeat the threat this time. Wong was his doable replacement.

Wong gave him an expectant expression. "You're still going right? You don't think you're really expected to keep a promise to your artifact. I mean, let's get serious here…"

It was very serious. Wong hadn't been there during the painful procedure his artifact had gone through, so he couldn't begin to gauge the importance of what Strange had promised. Perhaps there was another reason why he didn't want to go other than the obvious library incident.

Strange observed that the librarian was slumping against the side of the table, mouth set grimly like a student called to go to the black board. His eyes were also darting around the room, sometimes to the cloak other times to Strange. Wong was scared, but of what?

Stephen needed to boost his confidence, just like he had done once with the new intern that had worked under his supervision.

The intern would watch closely, learned techniques at a fast rate and had an impeccable bedside manner that far outweighed his own, but even with all this, he had very little faith in his own abilities which allowed a wider margin for error.

The right words in mind, Strange spoke. "Wong, you are experienced enough to eradicate many threats to this city and the one climbing that building you mentioned is superficial. It will be easy for you to defeat it without me." He ended with a positive and hopeful tone.

The librarian's voice was quiet, hesitant. "Stephen, I'm not a warrior. Not like you. The only thing I have any real experience in is guarding the books in the library, not people. And certainly not alone. I've never fought alone."

The sentence sounded so preposterous that Stephen had to hold back a laugh. "I'm a doctor". He gestured around him. "All this happened to me because I needed a cure for my hands. I wasn't a warrior either and I never asked for this responsibility. But I've had to become more than someone who saves lives. I've had to learn to defend them."

"And now the city is counting on you to defend it," he finished.

Wong dropped his shoulders and Strange could tell that he had won him over. "Alright, I'll do it. Just keep your cloak away from my iPod and the library while i'm gone."

Stephen nodded and waited for him to leave, hearing him mutter something about misplaced books, before facing the cloak. "You have me for the rest of the day. What would you like to do?"

The cloak suddenly flew out of the room.

Stephen cocked a brow before following.

He later found the cloak hovering above the bed and couldn't help but smile. "Of course, the bed. You're addicted to body heat and you wish nothing more than to spend the rest of the night on top of me. Right?"

Stephen tiredly rolled his eyes as the cloak fluttered with excitement. "I'll be right back."

He returned a few moments later, satisfied that he had a replacement to guard the Sanctum, but feeling silly after being laughed out of the room.

Still, a promise was a promise.

Stephen exhaled heavily and plopped down on the bed with a book entitled Translocation on a Molecular Level. The cloak floated over and softly settled on Stephen's chest, covering his entire body with its train.

It was there they stayed for the remainder of the day. Stephen content with reading his book and the cloak also content and happy with a warm chest to rest on.

A/N: The Cloak wants what the Cloak wants. ;)