a/n: Hello all! So this here is a rewrite of my old story, Tale as Strange as Time. If we're all being honest, it lowkey sucked. So I've rewritten it. And by rewritten, I mean seriously rewritten. Like, it's the same characters and such and Gwen and Loki are still a thing, but it's a different plot line. Also, I've introduced a few new characters that are the invention of my friend dragon_doodle on Insta/Wattpad. She has her own story on Wattpad titled The Apprentice. You should check it out because it's really good. Oh, and she also did the cover for this story because my editing skills are still a work in progress. I've also published this story on Wattpad. my username there is ghost_gwen.

Anywho, please enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

MIRROR IN THE SKY

"Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?/ Can the child within my heart rise above?/ Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?/ Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changing/ 'cause I built my life around you/ but time makes you bolder/ even children get older/ and I'm getting older too."

- Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

Part One: Wandering and Dreaming

"Wandering and dreaming/ the words have different meaning/ yes they did."

- Matilda Mother by Pink Floyd

Chapter One

March 1994

Stephen Strange was sitting in his office, going over some paperwork. It had been a long day (or night, rather; he had been working the night shift) of reviewing patients' cases and deciding which surgeries would be worth it and which would be a waste of his time and talents. He was getting ready to go home soon where he would have a quick breakfast before collapsing on his bed and taking a long nap.

There was a sudden knock on his door and Christine Palmer, one of the nurses he worked with, poked her head in. "Stephen, there's someone here who needs to see you."

He barely looked up at her and nodded, still focused on the patient's case before him. Christine sent in a man who was wearing a nice suit and tie, and carrying a briefcase. He walked briskly up to the desk, his hand outstretched. "Good morning, Dr. Strange. My name is Michael Jones."

Stephen shook his hand politely and gestured for him to sit down. Jones did so. "How can I help you, Mr. Jones?"

"I'm sorry to bother you at work," Jones began. "We had hoped to catch you at home, but the situation is urgent." Stephen tried not to let his confusion show. He had assumed this man was another hopeful patient who hadn't scheduled a meeting. What could Jones possibly want with him? "I work for social services. We recently had a child placed in our care after her mother, Jessica Redtree, passed during childbirth. She claimed that you are the father."

Stephen was stunned into silence, which was unusual for him. He was normally very quick with words. He had to be, as a doctor. But now, words failed him. Jessie was dead. Gone. Never again would he see the first woman he had ever loved. Not only that, he had never gotten around to telling her how sorry he was for what had happened between them. How guilty he felt for it. How he had forgiven her for anything and everything.

Not only that, he now apparently had a child. A daughter, by the sound of it. The thought of it scared him. Terrified him, really. He had a baby. A baby who would rely on him for food, shelter, care. Love. Could he do it? Could he be a father?

When Strange made no comments, Jones went on. "We were hoping to take a DNA sample, just to be absolutely sure. Just a simple mouth swab, if you wouldn't mind." He reached for his briefcase and pulled out a mouth swab kit. He placed it on the desk in front of Stephen and pushed it towards him. Stephen slowly reached out and took hold of it. "We should get the results back from the lab in a few days. In the meantime, Guinevere- the girl- will remain in our care."

"Can I see her?" Stephen burst out suddenly. He was filled with a sudden urge to get a look at the girl. Even if she turned out not to be his daughter, she was still Jessie's daughter. She was the last connection he still had to Jessie. And even though he was mad at her for hiding this pregnancy from him, he was still more sad that she had died.

Jones thought it over. "I suppose. Give me some time to make the arrangements. I'll give you a call once it's been arranged. May I have your phone number?" They exchanged numbers and Stephen took the mouth swab, which Jones collected and put back in his case. He snapped the briefcase shut and stood. He nodded at Stephen. "Thank you for meeting with me. We'll be in touch soon." Stephen nodded and watched as he went.

For a minute or two, he just sat there, thinking. Then, he stood up. "Christine!" he called. Her head poked back into the room. "I'm going home now."

"Alright," she responded simply. "Have a nice day, Stephen." He mumbled something in return that was barely audible. With that, Christine disappeared again. Stephen slowly meandered down the halls to the locker room and changed out of his scrubs. Then, he got in his car and went to his penthouse home in Brooklyn.

Flashback

October 1991

Jessie Redtree hadn't gone to college with the intent to party. She was generally pretty serious about her education, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She was studying fashion. Some people told her that it wouldn't lead to any sort of career, but Jessie didn't care. She enjoyed what she was studying and she knew that she would make a good career out of it.

However, one night, her friends had convinced her to attend just one party. The Halloween party that one of the frat houses was throwing. It was apparently supposed to be the biggest party on campus. Jessie didn't leap at the idea, and neither did her best friend, Clara. However, when their roommates, Marlene and Lucy, begged them to come with, they reluctantly agreed.

"This place is a dump," Clara mumbled to Jessie. They were currently tucked in a more secluded corner of the frat house, watching as the college freshmen got blackout drunk and in general made fools of themselves.

Jessie smiled a little and hummed in agreement. She wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to what Clara was saying. Her attention was drawn to a tall guy with dark black hair, sharp cheekbones, and a bit of a smirk on his face. He was quite handsome, actually, Jessie thought. He was currently talking with a brunette girl who was giggling stupidly, flirting shamelessly with him. He was smirking, though he looked somewhat drawn. As if the conversation wasn't terribly interesting to him.

"Jess, are you even listening to me?" Clara asked, snapping her fingers in front of Jessie's eyes. Jessie was snapped out of her trance and she turned back to Clara, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Clara, I got distracted. What is it?"

Clara smirked a little. "Were you looking at that guy over there?" She pointed at the dark haired guy.

"What?" Jessie tried to lie, but there was no point. Clara always knew when she was lying. She sighed. "Yes, alright, I was. So? He's not exactly hideous to look at."

Clara just shrugged noncommittally. "He's handsome, I guess, but Jess, do you even know who that is?" Jessie shook her head. "His name is Stephen Strange. He's in my bio class."

"And you don't like him," Jessie said and Clara nodded.

"You remember that test that I spent an entire night studying for?" Jessie nodded again, smiling faintly. She could already see where this was going. "Well, I only got a eighty-nine on it. Then, after class,I hear him bragging about how he got one hundred percent." Clara shook her head, looking disgusted. "There's no way he got that high of a score; not without cheating."

"Maybe he's just really smart," Jessie suggested. She was teasing her friend a little now. Clara prided herself on her brains. Even Jessie agreed that her friend was very smart. However, she didn't take it well when someone else outshone her. "There are going to be people smarter than you, Clara."

Clara sent her friend a little glare. "It's got nothing to do with that!" she said indignantly. "I just don't like cheaters, that's all. Plus, he's super arrogant about it all. I mean, just look at the smug smirk he's wearing now." They snuck a glance at him. He did look rather smug as the girl laughed shrilly at whatever he had just said. Then, as if he sensed their gaze, he looked up at them. His eyes widened for a second, before he resumed his normal face.

"Maybe you're right," Jessie conceded.

"Of course I am," Clara promptly agreed. "I'm always right. Oh, no. Look, here he comes." Jessie turned again to see that her friend was right. Strange had removed himself from the company of the giggling brunette and was walking towards them. "Just shoot me now."

He smiled pleasantly as he got closer to them. "Hello, Clara," he greeted her in a seemingly polite tone. Clara merely grunted in reply. He turned his smile to Jessie. "I don't think we've met. I'm Stephen Strange. I'm in Clara's biology class." He held out his hand to Jessie.

Despite Clara's obvious hatred of the man, Jessie took his hand. He seemed kind. Clara had probably just misjudged him. "I'm Jessie Redtree, Clara's roommate."

His smile widened. He looked like he was about to say something when the next song started, followed by loud cheers from the crowd of drunk young adults. It was a Rolling Stones tune, titled Let's Spend the Night Together. "This is a great song," he said, gesturing vaguely in the air.

Jessie nodded in agreement. "Right? I love the Stones. Well, I love all sixties rock, but the Stones are quite possibly the best."

"I'm more of a Beatles fan, myself," Stephen replied. "They had much better songs. Plus, the Stones started out as a Blues group. Who listens to the blues?" Jessie laughed a little in agreement. The Stones' blues era had never been her favorite either.

"I'm going to go," mumbled Clara. "Bathroom." She could not stand the sight of her best friend flirting with that jerk. She loved Jessie, but if the two of them started going out, she might have to put her foot down.

Jessie did not try to stop her from leaving as she normally might have done. She loved Clara, but she couldn't see what was so bad about Stephen. He seemed nice enough, so far. The next song came on, and this time it was a disco song, Night Fever by The Bee Gees. Stephen actually started to sway with the music a little. "Another great song," he said. "Come and dance."

Jessie was a little shocked. After all, it had been a request and not a question, as was the norm. However, she kind of liked it. Smiling a little, she took his hand and followed him out to the floor for a dance.

December 1991

"I cannot believe that you're still going out with that prick," Clara commented from the couch. She was currently reading Pride and Prejudice, but she wasn't really paying attention to it. She was mostly watching her friend getting ready for yet another date with Stephen Strange. They had started going out at the beginning of November, and things were going well, much to Jessie's delight and Clara's dismay.

"Yes, I am," Jessie said simply. She finished putting on lipgloss and turned to smile patiently at her friend. "I think if you got to know him, really got to know him, you would like him too, Clara. He's actually quite sweet and funny. Also, he says he's never cheated on a test. He just has a photographic memory, so he can remember things really easily."

Clara rolled her eyes. "He's still an arrogant jerk," she defended herself. "Well, have fun on your date. Hope he doesn't bore you to death, talking about his degree."

Jessie just laughed. "We don't talk about school, actually," she said fondly. "We like to go on drives. We'll listen to music and try to guess what year it was released. Then we go out for dinner and dessert. Then, he takes me up to this lookout and- "

"Lalalalala!" Clara said, covering her ears dramatically. "I don't want to hear all the gross details, Jess. The less I know the better."

Rolling her eyes, Jessie picked up her handbag. "I'll be back by ten-ish. Have a good night, Clara."

"Night," Clara replied as Jessie left. When she was gone, Clara sighed to herself. "That girl is a lost cause," she muttered. It was obvious to her, even now, that Jessie was slowly falling in love with Stephen Strange. There was nothing she could do to stop it. Sighing again, Clara picked up her book again. She supposed that she would just have to get used to Stephen Strange being a part of their lives.

October 1992

"Move in together?"

Jessie was watching Stephen with wide eyes. They had just gone on their usual date of dinner before driving up to their normal lookout. There were no other cars there tonight. It was just the two of them. Stephen had taken advantage of the quiet and brought up the topic he had been wanting to discuss for months: the idea of them moving in together.

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean," he looked her directly in the eyes, "we already spend so much time together. And we've been going out for a year now. I've been looking at this flat. I could easily afford it on my salary." He had graduated after the last spring semester and was now working as a surgeon at one of the local hospitals. Jessie was still attending college, having only one year left. She was currently still living with Clara on campus. "It's equidistant from the university and the hospital. We could share the car until I can afford another one."

"You're spending money almost as fast as you make it," Jessie mentioned.

Stephen just grinned. "What's the point of being a rich doctor if I can't spend all the money I get on such great things?" he said. "Come on, Jess. Look, I love you. I really want you to live with me. It would be so much better coming home to bury my face in your shoulder than some pillow." Jessie could not help but smile at that.

"I love you too," she replied. He leaned over and gave her a long and lingering kiss that took her breath away, just as he always did. "I think you almost have me convinced to move in with you," she said. He chuckled and kissed her again. "Alright, you've persuaded me," she said when he broke away again. "We'll move in together."

March 1993

Jessie was cooking some pasta idly over the stove, deep in thought. She and Stephen had lived together for nearly six months. They had been dating for nearly a year and a half. And yet, he still hadn't proposed. The subject hadn't even been broached by him. Jessie has casually tried to bring it up by mentioning other marriages that she knew were happening between their friends, but whenever she brought it up, Stephen was quick to change the subject. He loved her yes, but apparently not enough to marry her.

The same happened when she had a scare nearly a month ago. She had thought that she was pregnant. While she had been worried about the prospect of carrying a child for nine months and having to carry it, Stephen had absolutely panicked. He had paced around their flat, talking about how they weren't ready for children, how they couldn't have a child. The sting of that statement hurt Jessie more than she thought it would. She hadn't realized how badly she wanted a baby until that day. And to hear him say that they (not he, they) weren't ready…

Jessie still loved Stephen more than anything. If he were to walk in right now, holding a ring, and asked her to marry him, she would say yes without hesitation. But she wasn't going to get her hopes up. He was too focused on his career. And as much as Jessie love how seriously he had taken his education and how seriously he now took his job, she couldn't help but feel that he was being a bit ridiculous about this whole thing.

July 1993

Jessie had moved back in with Clara. A week earlier, she and Stephen had had a huge fight. A terrible one. Stephen had told her to get out and she had left. Clara was very willing to take her back in, cursing Stephen up and down for how he had treated her best friend.

"Men suck, honey," she told her friend, trying to sooth her. "Don't you worry about him. He isn't worth a single one of your tears."

Jessie nodded, trying not to think about Stephen and thinking of nothing else. She had woken up that morning feeling sick. She had thrown up once or twice and was now resting on Clara's couch. Clara was currently living with her husband, Nick. Jessie didn't really like Nick, but she said nothing about it since he was allowing her house room. There was just something creepy and off about Nick. Plus, he was very secretive about his job. He never talked about it. Clara knew a few things about it, but felt that she could not discuss it with her best friend. She doubted Jessie would approve, anyway.

"Where's Nick?" Jessie asked casually as she accepted a warm cup of tea from Clara. Clara sat beside her, her own cup of tea in hand.

"Work," she said with a casual shrug. "He said he was going on a business trip and that he'd be gone for a few days. It'll be just like old times." Jessie smiles faintly at that. It felt like the first time she had smiled in forever. "Are you feeling better?"

Jessie nodded. "Yes, actually. I don't feel nauseous anymore. And I don't feel hot or flushed either. I'm not sure what it was. Maybe something I- " Jessie cut herself off as she had a realization, "ate," she finished quietly.

"What is it?" Clara asked sharply. "Jess, what's wrong?"

Jessie didn't answer. She had just realized what was wrong. And now that the thought occurred, she was almost sure she was right. She counted the days in her head and realized that her period was late. Late by a few days. The days all added up. There was a very good chance that she was pregnant. "Clara," she whispered, suddenly horrified. "I think I'm pregnant."

End Flashback

March 1994

When he got home, he did not make a meal, as he had planned. He just sat down at his kitchen table and thought it all over. If the girl, Guinevere, really did turn out to be his daughter, he had to think about what he was going to do. There were really only two options. Either he gave her up for adoption or he kept the girl as his own.

He carefully considered each option. Giving her up would certainly be the easier option. This way, he could focus on his work and there would be no distractions. He could make sure that she was placed with a good family and that she would be cared for.

Or he could keep her. He could raise her as his own. He could give her everything that no one else could because he was her real father. He could make sure she was cared for and protected. She wouldn't suffer for want in his care. He certainly had enough money to care for the both of them, and keep them very comfortable.

His thoughts then wandered to Jessie. The thought of her name brought both a burst of sadness and a twinge of anger. Why has she lied to him about something this important? He certainly had a right to know about his own child! But even as he asked himself the question, the answer came to him right away and he felt a burning sense of shame. The whole time they had been together, she had hinted at marriage and a family. She wanted it so bad and he was so adamantly against it. He flatly refused to even discuss the possibility because he had been sure that such things would distract him from succeeding in his promising career. Jessie must've assumed that he would want nothing to do with the child and hadn't bothered to find him or tell him. Whether or not she should have was another matter, but he at least understood why she had acted the way she had.

Now, the more important question was whether or not she had been right: Would Stephen have nothing to do with his child? Would he simply ignore her when she needed him? Could he truly turn his back on his own flesh and blood?

After much thinking, he knew that the answer was no. He would take the girl in and raise her as his own. Guinevere would not suffer for his mistakes or her mother's. He would raise her, as a way of saying sorry to Jessie. Besides, she was his daughter. It was only right.

And with that, he felt some of the guilt that had been weighing him down for so long leave him. He smiled a little. With that, he grabbed his computer and opened it up. He started to search for high schools and colleges that she could go to. His daughter was going to be as smart as him. He could see it now, two Dr. Strange's, helping save the world.

The next day, Stephen received a call from Jones. The DNA was a match. Guinevere was his daughter. Stephen felt a soaring sense of elation. If Guinevere had turned out not to be his daughter, he wasn't sure what he would do. He had already made plans based on the assumption that she was. "We'll have to meet, of course, to discuss what shall be done about Guinevere, but first, would you like to come see her?"

Stephen said that he would and he drove to the place where he would be meeting Jones. Jones welcomed him politely, gave congratulations, and ushered him into his office. "Miss Thomas is on her way up with Guinevere. In the meantime, we should discuss your options. Would you like to keep your daughter or will you give her up for adoption?"

"I'll keep her," Stephen said right away. Jones nodded pleasantly.

"Excellent. That makes things much easier on our end. There's much less paperwork involved." He started to dig in his drawers for the proper files that Stephen would need to fill out.

While he was doing so, a kind looking young woman carried in a small bundle in her arms. She smiled at Stephen. "Hello. You must be Guinevere's father." Stephen nodded, looking at the bundle both eagerly and anxiously. "Well, here she is." She adjusted the blankets so Stephen could clearly see her face. She looked so calm, staring up at the ceiling with her blue eyes. Blue eyes that looked so like his own. With a slight pang, he realized that the rest was all Jessie. Perhaps later in life she would look more like he did, but for now, she looked very much like her mother. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Yes," Stephen said, holding out his arms. The woman gently placed Guinevere into his arms. Stephen cradled her head carefully, making sure that she was safe. Gwen stared up at him. She didn't fuss. She didn't cry. She just looked curious. Perhaps a little sleepy.

"She's a good little girl," Miss Thomas told him pleasantly. "Hardly ever cries. Such a sweetheart."

Stephen smiled a little as he looked her up and down. Her hair was light and he guessed that she was going to be as blonde as her mother had been. She was beautiful. This was his daughter. He couldn't imagine how he had created something so beautiful and perfect.

"Here we are," Jones suddenly called out. He had found the proper paperwork, and was now placing it on the desk. "If you could just fill these out, Dr. Strange, then we'll get it all cleared up and sorted out."

"When will I be able to take Guinevere home?" he asked as he started to fill out the papers. With the help of Christine, who was not only a coworker but a good friend, he had started to prepare one of the rooms in his penthouse to accommodate his daughter. He had started even before he knew that she was his. Somehow, he just knew. Maybe it was because he knew Jessie. Or maybe it was just intuition. Either way, he had been sure that Guinevere was his daughter.

"Soon, I should think," Jones said. "A few things will need to be sorted, of course. But I think that you will soon be able to take her home with you." He was smiling patiently. Stephen continued to fill out the forms, already counting down the time to when he could take Guinevere home with him.

March 1994

Stephen had found out the date of Jessie's funeral after doing some digging. He had decided that he should attend. It was only right, after all. He wanted to pay his last respects. And Gwen should see her mother one last time.

He was wearing his best suit and a black tie. He had dressed little Gwen up in a cute black dress. He often wondered if his child was very sensitive to emotions because she seemed very subdued today. According to the nanny/housekeeper he had hired to watch after her during work, she was usually quite calm or happy unless she was hungry or hurt. So this sudden sad expression on her face was rather upsetting to see.

"She's a smart girl," Flora, the nanny, said to Stephen. She was holding the child in her arms, shaking her head sadly. "I think she knows something's wrong." Gwen was only a few weeks old at this point. She couldn't even babble. Yet, it was as if she had a sixth sense or something.

"Just like her daddy," Stephen said, a little proudly. He had no doubt that Gwen would grow up to be just as smart and accomplished as he was. He took Gwen from Flora's arms and started to buckle her into her car seat. "We should be back in a couple hours," he told the elderly woman.

She nodded. "I'll have lunch ready for you," she replied. Stephen gave her a nod of thanks and took off for the funeral.

The gathering there was sized fairly. Stephen recognized a few friends of theirs from college as well as Jessie's father, Joseph. He sat near the front, accepting words of sympathy from the others. The coffin was open and there was a line to go up and look at her. Stephen adjusted so that Gwen was resting on his chest before he got in the line.

Jessie's eyes were closed. She looked almost peaceful, lying there. There was no trace of pain on her face, none of the sadness that Stephen felt as he looked at her. She looked like she could be sleeping in his bed again, waiting for him to come home from work. Unexpectedly, hot tears stung his eyes. The back of his throat burned. "I'm so sorry, Jessie," he whispered, as if she could hear him. "I'll take care of Gwen. I promise. I'll love her like you would have."

Gwen, who sensed that her father was upset, began to cry. Stephen tried to hush her and muffle her cries in his shoulder. Her crying drew attention from the others. Some started to cry harder at the sound of a little child crying. Others looked somewhat annoyed.

"YOU!"

Stephen turned to see Clara. Her belly was swollen, announcing that she was very pregnant. She was laying harshly at him. Stephen steeled himself for what was to come.

"You dare show your face here? At her funeral?" Clara was practically seething.

Stephen inhaled deeply. "I wanted to say goodbye," he said slowly. "And sorry." He rubbed Gwen's back softly, trying to shush her.

Clara laughed scornfully. "Well, it's a little too late for that, don't you think?" she sarcastically quipped. "She wouldn't want you here, Stephen. Besides, it's your fault she's dead in the first place!"

Several around them gasped. Their eyes darted between Stephen and Clara nervously. Stephen could come up with no retort to what Clara had said. She might be right.

Clara set her jaw in satisfaction. "Get out," she all but spat at him. "You don't deserve to be here. And you don't deserve to take care of her child."

At this, Stephen bristled angrily. How dare she suggest that his daughter did not belong to him? "Her child is my child," he told her sharply. "Gwen is my daughter. Not yours. You don't get to tell me what to do with my child. And I took Gwen as a way of trying to make up for my past mistakes."

"Too little, too late!" Clara shrieked. "She's dead! Gone! And it's not as if you cared about the girl before!"

"Jessie never even told me she was pregnant!" Stephen shot back angrily. "I'm not the only one who made mistakes here!"

"Lady, gentleman, please, please!" The Pastor had come over to them. "This is a funeral! Please, let's not do this here."

Clara and Stephen glared at each other. Then, they spun on their heels and took seats as far away from each other as possible.

Gwen was still crying quietly into Stephen's jacket. This brought renewed tears to his eyes. Guinevere Jessica Strange would never know her mother.

But he was determined that she would receive the love of both parents from her father.