~ Part Eight ~
"Stephen, you cannae go! My place is with you!"
"Not this time, Red. . . You're exactly where you need to be."
"But I love you…"
"I love you too."
Strange floated above her in all his glory, smiling softly as the stars of the cosmos swallowed him whole and he faded in a puff of ash. But even as he disappeared he called out her name, over and over again. Until only a whisper remained: "Ciara….. Goodbye."
Ciara tossed and turned in her bed, waking after a fitful three hours of sleep. It was the same dream every time she closed her eyes. Even after five years, Stephen's absence still haunted her. Whether she was awake or dreaming, Strange hovered ever present in her thoughts. In the early days, she used to wake up crying, but now there was only a familiar numbness. It never stopped aching, but she'd learned to cope.
Sighing, the woman rose from her bed. She was tired to the bone, but she wasn't about to waste her time praying for rest that would never come. She could sleep when she was dead. Which might actually be sooner rather than later. . .
Ciara dressed in her mystic robes and wound her fiery red hair up into a messy bun. In the mirror she regarded her somewhat haggard appearance with a blank stare. She looked the same as she had before Strange left to fight Thanos, save for the shock of pure white hair that mixed in with her natural red locks.
When she had put a magical shield around the Earth, bottle-necking Thanos's minions to Wakanda, it had cost her dearly. Even with the Morrigan's help, the strain of holding such a spell had drained her. Parts of her hair had turned white, and her power wasn't as all-encompassing as it had been.
After the fight was over, she'd been in bed for weeks recovering. The Avengers that were left had regrouped at their old headquarters and Ciara had joined them there. Natasha and Steve had taken turns tending to her, bringing her meals and water, making sure that her feverish state didn't become life-threatening. They'd been her guardian angels and Ciara was indebted to them.
Those handful of weeks she'd spent in bed were still fuzzy. Ciara had been delirious for a good portion of it, seeing visions of the past and what might have been the future. But who could say for certain when magic was involved? She'd tried not to linger on the images she'd seen. After all, it wouldn't do her any good to try and make mountains out of mole-hills.
When her fever had broken, Ciara had met with a terrible reception. The remaining Avengers were a motley crew with broken spirit and no true purpose. When she asked what they planned to do to bring all the lost souls back, no one had been able to reply for quite some time. The air had been thick with unshed tears and shame. Apparently when she'd been sick, they'd gone to face Thanos again with the help of Captain Marvel. But it had all been in vain.
"There's no bringing them back, Ciara," Cap had said solemnly, looking ashamed. "Thanos destroyed the stones. . . It's over."
Ciara had been unable to answer at the time. Her tears had fallen for what seemed like days with the gravity of their fate. Of Stephen's fate.
They had failed. And Thanos had won. . .
Half the universe had been wiped out in a matter of seconds. Half of everything that mattered was gone forever.
Like most of the survivors, Ciara had never stopped grieving her losses. But she had done her best to keep her promise to Strange. Even in the face of sorrow, the woman had risen up and done her best to repair what had been shattered.
The Sanctums had been hit hard. Almost all of the Mystics had been snapped out by Thanos, leaving only a small handful left. Ciara had gathered those that remained and united them, dividing the magic users between the three sanctums evenly. They guarded them day and night, preserving the mystic arts- and in time offered aid to those outside the sanctums.
Ciara was the acting Mystic Master in everything but name. But she still couldn't bring herself to accept the title… There was only one Master of the Mystic Arts, and it surely wasn't Ciara bloody Blackwood.
As the weeks faded into years, Ciara grew quite close with the scattered Avengers. Bruce came to visit her from time to time for Taco Nights (sporting his new mix of Hulk and Banner), Steve and Natasha both phoned her at least once a week, and Rocket and Nebula would pop in whenever they weren't patrolling the outskirts of the universe with Captain Marvel. The fiery mage came to love and respect them all, counting them among her intimate list of friends.
It was hard to think that once she had been entirely alone. . . She had been a nomad for most of her life, until Stephen had welcomed her. When he'd restored Ciara's childhood memories he'd unknowingly opened a door. His simple act of kindness had changed everything. She'd never had more people she could rely on. . . But she'd also never felt more heartbroken, even including the remembrance of her long-lost brother Duncan.
Ciara kept herself busy. She trained and shared knowledge with her fellow Mystics. She read books from the archives everyday, gleaning anything helpful, and offered her expertise to the civilians of New York to assist in rebuilding after the upheaval. She was always working, moving, doing. . . But her full days didn't stop her heart from gushing like a wound. No matter how much good she did, or how much she helped repair. . . It was never enough.
Nothing could make up for what had been taken. Not just from her, but from everyone. The universe had been broken in two, and no amount of well-wishing would make it better. Action needed to be taken. But what that action was escaped Ciara. . . Until her phone rang one evening, during her private meditation.
When she'd answered the call, she'd been met with a hopeful voice on the other end. "There might be a way to bring everyone back."
She was silent for a minute, trying to fathom the statement. "...Steve? What are ya on about?"
"Just what I said, Ciara. . . I'm not gonna lie. It's a small chance," Cap admitted, talking evenly despite the topic. "It involves time travel and lots of science I don't understand… But if it works, we could make everything right. . . We could stop Thanos before he ever attacked earth. We could find the infinity stones. . . We could save those that were lost."
A single tear trickled down Ciara's cheek, as her thoughts turned to Strange. She brushed it away with the back of her sleeve, before a grin rose to capture her features. She didn't have to think about her answer.
"I'm in, Cap. All the way. Whatever ya need."
"Thank you," Steve said. "I'm sure your expertise will smooth out the process. We're gathering at the old compound. Bring a sleeping bag and a change of clothes, we're sticking together until we figure this thing out."
"Aye, luv. I wouldn't dream of leavin' until we do. I'll see ya there."
As the call clicked off, Ciara felt the first true surge of hope rekindle in her chest. It left her breathless and crying from something other than despair.
There was a chance. A one in a billion chance to make it right. . . And by damn, she was going to make sure it worked. No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice. She would do whatever it took.
She owed Strange that much.
It took them several months to fully plan and build the machine. But with the newly assembled Avengers giving it their full attention, time blurred into a rush of excitement and purpose. Tony, Bruce, Rocket, and Nebula worked the science end, Ciara added magical elements when needed, and they all pitched in with the crafting.
In between building and researching, they discussed the history of the infinity stones and figured out a timeline to find each in the past. Even with such a dire task at hand, the newfound hope was contagious. They all were able to joke and smile again. They had a purpose and it showed.
The only one who seemed on the fence was Thor, though he was drunk for most of the process. Ciara had found him crying into his umpteenth beer one night, and had felt empathy wash over her. She kept her drinking to a minimum- seeing as her magical energy didn't allow her to remain drunk for long- but she knew the loss and self-loathing all too well.
She'd sat beside Thor as he sobbed, putting her arm around his heaving shoulders. She didn't offer words of comfort; she could see that they wouldn't reach him in that moment. But she didn't leave his side until he was fast asleep. In all that time Thor never shrugged away from her touch. Instead he'd melted into her side as much as physically possible (which was almost comical considering how much smaller she was.) He'd needed someone and she'd been happy to oblige. When he was happily snoring, Ciara transported him to his quarters and tucked him in.
The next morning, he'd approached her with a new look in his eyes. "You didn't have to do that… I was fine as I was."
Ciara had been quiet, considering her words, before answering him. "Ya know it's okay… to not be okay. . . Your loved ones died. The pain o' tha' doesn't just go away."
Thor's eyes began to water and he looked away quickly. "Even if we succeed in this endeavor, my family is lost. Loki, my mother, my father… They were killed before the stones."
"I am sorry, Thor. . . I cannae imagine the heartbreak you've had to shoulder. It must be excruciating." Then, Ciara smiled at him, taking the Thunderer by surprise. "And yet, here you stand. Helping us make a difference."
"...They offered free beer," Thor said lamely, but they both knew the truth.
"Thank you," Ciara whispered, leaning up to kiss his fuzzy cheek. "Even if your loved ones can't return, you're helping others come back. You're a hero, Thor. Yer place is with us. This fight is still yours."
Thor hadn't replied as he walked away, but in the days that followed he contributed to the discussions more and doubled-down with the heavy lifting. Unknowingly, Ciara had reached him, despite his continuous drinking habits and odd moments of oversharing. She hadn't fixed Thor's insecurities, but she had made it clear that he was where he needed to be. . . Just as she was, and all the others.
This was their fight, to the last man, woman, and child. They had survived. And they wouldn't waste the sacrifice made by their fallen friends. . .
Ciara stood behind the control panel, with misty eyes. It was finally time.
The machine was built, the timeline pinpointed, and the Avengers at the ready in their nanotechnology suits.
It had been decided that one of them would stay behind to guard the machine, in case of emergency or failure. They had drawn lots and Ciara had picked the short stick. She had wanted to argue, but she kept silent. She wanted to be in the midst of it with the others... But damn her feelings; the mission was more important.
Besides, she drew her strength from the Morrigan. And that could only be tapped into when she was on Earth. She was more useful at home base, holding down the fort. Waiting for their victory.
"Ready to beam us up, Scotty?"
Ciara smiled at Tony, as he used the playful nickname, nodding. "Aye, born ready. But ya better come back in one piece, or I'm disownin' the lot of ya."
"Don't worry, Ciara. We'll be back. All of us." Steve promised.
"See ya on the flipside then," Ciara said. With a steady hand, she programmed the machine, just as Bruce and Tony had taught her. As it whirred to life, she watched the Avengers- in a close circle- join hands and then disappear before her very eyes.
Ciara stood motionless, praying to her patron for several agonizing minutes. Her chest became constricted as every possible mistake played through her head. . . One shot. Just one.
She could feel scared tears build up behind her forest green eyes, but pushed them back. She couldn't be weak now. She had to stay strong and keep faith. The others were risking their lives to get the stones, it was only fair that she continued to believe in their success and guard the gateway.
After only several more minutes, the machine began to glow again, and the Avengers appeared.
Ciara was running over to them before they had hardly settled. She was shaking from head to toe as she asked the most loaded questions of her life. "Did ya succeed? Did you retrieve all the stones!? ...Where's Natasha?"
"Nat didn't make it," Clint whispered, before holding up the soul stone. "But her sacrifice wasn't for nothing."
One by one, the other Avengers showed their acquired stones. They had done it, but the price was felt by all...
It seemed as if all the air in the room had disappeared.
Bruce had donned the remade infinity gauntlet and snapped his fingers. . . It had damaged his arm, but from the window Scott Lang said the words of affirmation they had all longed for.
"Guys… I think it worked."
Ciara was about to give a great whoop of joy, when everything got blown to hell. She barely had time to register the gigantic ship that hovered over them, before the barrage hit them at point blank range.
With a cry, Ciara manifested a shield around herself and the others, taking the brunt of the explosion. But it didn't stop the building from crumbling around them, or some of her comrades from falling into the depths of the destroyed headquarters.
When Ciara came too, sometime later, the dust had settled. She gasped painfully, flinging debris away from her torso with a tendril of misty black magic. Her chest had been crushed and for several seconds she fought to breathe. She slammed her hands against her chest, filling up her body with her magical energy, willing her ribs and lungs to repair themselves. She felt as if she'd been struck by lightning as her gift took hold. She could hear the Morrigan whispering to her, as her body mended itself, and she fought back tears due to the crippling pain.
After several horrid minutes, her lungs finally expanded with air and her ribs ceased aching. She lay for a moment, thanking the Morrigan, before she slowly stood from the ground. For a moment, all she could see was the ruins of the Avenger compound. . . But then as her eyes focused, her heart fell to the pits of her stomach.
The sky was filled with alien beasts and a massive ship that blotted out the sun. Thanos himself stood before legions of his followers, issuing a challenge. . . And standing alone to face him was Captain America.
Ciara swayed on her feet, but immediately began to move. She wouldn't let Steve stand alone! Even if it meant death, she'd fight to her last!
But before she could clear the rubble, she stopped dead in her tracks and new tears fell from her widened eyes.
All had been still and bleak. . . Until orange circles began to form within the smoke of the previous explosion.
But no. Not circles. . . Portals.
A sharp, breathless cry escaped Ciara's pursed lips as she watched her dreams become reality. So many times she had imagined the lost finding their way home. . . But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of them returning through the portals. . . Or the absolute relief that coursed through her veins when a solitary figure floated out of the highest portal, cape billowing in the wind.
Dr. Stephen Strange floated gracefully to the ground, orange diagrams glowing at his fingertips; out front and prepared to lead the battle charge alongside the impressive King T'challa.
Ciara wasn't aware she was running until she had almost reached Cap's side. She skidded to a halt, smirking as she summoned her magic to her palms. It seemed she'd get to fight alongside her family after all, taking the ultimate stand.
Captain America caught Mjolnir expertly, nodding to her and the others before he called them to arms one last time.
"Avengers. . . Assemble!"
The battle raged all around her, but Ciara kept pace well. She blocked and dodged everything that came her way, before stabbing and whipping back with her black mist. She was exhausted to the core, but fought with the strength of a lioness, snarling as she cut down each enemy with a vengeance.
Through the countless hordes, Ciara could see a red cape, and she instantly made her way toward it. She had to fight her way to him, but as she saw the familiar profile and hair come into view, she laughed freely.
Cutting down several more of Thanos's minions, Ciara all but tackled Strange from behind, immediately throwing up a shield around them. She hugged the startled Mystic Master with all she was worth, laughing and crying into his neck. The shield was battered on all sides, but didn't break. Nothing could have broken her shield in that moment. Nothing could have ruined their reunion.
"Ciara, is this really the time?" His tone was somewhat reprimanding, but also brimmed with affection, just as she remembered.
Ciara shook her head, beaming at him. "Hell no! But I cannae stop myself!" She peppered his face with kisses, grinning wider when he returned them willingly. "Sure took ya long enough, Stephen! Makin' a lass wait and worreh!"
"Apologies, Red. But I had nothing to worry about. I knew you'd keep everything running smoothly in my absence." His eyes gleamed with countless emotions, before he captured her lips firmly, drawing the very breath out of her lungs. He held her close with shaking hands, and for the first time in five years everything was as it should be.
When they pulled away, both had a new light in their gaze.
Strange gestured towards the raging battle. "Shall we finish this?"
"Aye, Stephen, ya beautiful, unkillable man!" She smashed her fists together, breaking her shield and exploding black glowing shards into every nearby enemy. "Let's show these bastards wha' a pair o' Mystics can do!"
A/N: So this chapter was a long time in the making. Most of it stuck to End Game canon, but I added and tweaked a couple bits here and there. It was nice to finally get back to Ciara and Strange after such a long absence. And their reunion made me cry while I was writing it. I don't think I'll ever get over the Portal scene from that film. It doesn't matter how many times I've watched it. . . It always hits home.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! A huge thank you to everyone who has continued to watch, fave, or review this story! It means so much to me! I'm grateful for all of you!
See you next chapter!
~Lyn