Chapter 1 The calm between the storms
- Everything is perfectly stable.
The Cloak detached itself from Stephen's arms and made a small yet joyous loop in the air in front of the Sorcerer Supreme. Wong said nothing, but Strange was pretty sure he saw satisfaction in those small stern eyes. Strange would bet no other sorcerer ever learned how to thoroughly inspect the whole structure of their realm so quickly. But, of course, said realm would crumble sooner than Wong would compliment him on anything. Not that he particularly needed it. Of course not. He certainly does not need anybody to remind him that no one can compare with him. Well, at least no one will be able to given some more time.
- Does that mean we can finally eat now or are you going to bury yourself again in books?
- Now, now, are those words befitting a librarian?
- Is not eating regularly a behaviour befitting a medic?
Strange couldn't help but smile. These little banters were always lifting his mood between devouring books full of important knowledge and practicing spells that would have been so useful to know when he fought Kaecilius.
- At least thanks to books I know what is my primary duty as a Sorcerer Supreme.
-I was under the impression we've already told you that – replied flatly Wong
- Oh, yes, you've told me I am supposed to protect our reality. Never bothered to mention though that maybe there are better methods than just waiting until something breaks in and attacks.
- We knew you'd be smart enough to figure that on your own – Wong's face seemed emotionless and serious as always, but Strange by now knew him enough to see a hint of a smirk.
- Right. Besides I don't know what is stopping you from eating. I may be the Sorcerer Supreme, but it doesn't mean you need my permission to go shopping.
- Money? - answered Wong innocently.
- What the hell am I?– Strange rolled his eyes - I've got a Time Stone not a Sorcerer's Stone.
- No food then.
- For Dormammu's sake, we need to find ourselves some proper source of income...
Wong chuckled.
- A genius like you, I am sure you shall think of something.
- ...and why should everything be on me?
- You're the Sorcerer Supreme.
Stephen shook his head rather dramatically.
- I thought this wasn't the type of job where I'll have to ponder death of starvation.
- Life's full of surprises.
- And old guys repeating old cliches.
In the end it was the same cheap but rather tasty cafeteria round the corner. They really needed to think about money in the future though. For the time being Stephen was much too concentrated on learning as much as he could, so he could keep his world safe and, more importantly, to not embarass himself in front of the other sorcerers (You don't know how to use that, do you?, Christ, he still would blush at that memory), but sooner or later the stack of money they've found in New York Sanctum would disappear.
They've eaten their take-outs in silence, both engulfed in their books and then Wong went to his library which allowed Strange to finally have some privacy to do forbidden things he didn't want Wong to ever see. Like using the Time Stone to create a 'copy' of himself that could attack his opponent from behind. The technique just came to his mind when in cafeteria some small boy was enthusiastically relating his rather bored mother some game or show or animation where some hero made hundreds of copies of himself to overwhelm much more powerful enemy. It seemed like a surprisingly good idea. At least a surprisingly good idea as long as Wong would not see him using the Stone again. During months that have passed since Dormammu's summoning Strange realised that caution not to disturb reality was one thing and preparation so that someone else would not crumble it was another, equally important. Last time the only thing that saved them was the Time Stone. No other spells even from most experienced Sorcerers managed to protect their realm. So how could he prepare to fight such unspeakable fiends if he had no practice with the Stone? And he doubted it would matter much if he used it in Mirror Dimention anyway.
The Cloak stroked his cheek gently. 'Right' he thought irritated, not like he was all alone.
- What now? - he asked acidly
The Cloak floated up and away, corners of the collar pointing the ceiling in what Strange by now knew well enough to be indignant manner.
- I really need to work, you know.
The Cloak shrugged, whirled and left the room. Only to stop in the neighbouring one, right by the door, so that Strange could still see his offended back and to give Stephen one chance to apologise. Stephen was a proud man, but the time he spent with the Cloak taught him well that the whimsical relic could really make his life frustrating if it wanted to. Or, on the other hand, very easy and pleasant, too.
- Don't be mad, honey, I really need to practice an important spell.
The Cloak hung his nonexistent head.
- I promise I shall spend some time flying with you, when the night falls.
Shake of the collar.
- ...two hours of flying and one hour of stroking - he conceded.
The Cloak was immediately back by his side, curled one of his rims around his hand and shook it powerfully. The deal was done.
- You're one talented negotiator, you know – he joked
The relic rubbed itself against Strange's body, much like a big red cat. Or rather a skin of a big red cat. He gave it a couple of strokes for good measure and proceeded to practice some more complicated spells that came to his mind and predictably enough the Cloak has left to find itself some more fascinating occupation than watching the spells it has already seen thousands of times during its very long existence.
Strange, rather pleased with himself, went straight to the Eye of Agamoto, anticipation filling him up as always when he was about to undertake an ambitious and proving task. The stone glinted in his hand even though there was no sunlight in the room. He jumped into the Mirror Dimension and then created a dummy on which both current and 'future' Strange could practice on. He looked at his watch. Now if everything went well in the future there should... There. Another Strange appeared on the other side of the doll. Perfect! All this really went well for the time being- then it occured to him. What if his future self doesn't do exactly what he sees him now doing? Would that cause a paradox? Should he memorize everything future Strange does during the practice?
- Oh, for fuck's sake, you do have eidetic memory, right? - snapped future Strange impatiently
- No wonder nobody likes you Mister Condescending.
- It's Doctor Condescending – grinned his other self.
All in all, it went rather well. The technique proved to be much more complicated and time consuming than he had expected, but it would definitely prove extremely useful in the future. At least as long as he would be able to stand himself and his arrogant comments towards himself, he chuckled internally. Satisfied, he had left the Mirror Dimension only to face his Cloak, which was floating still enough for Strange to know it was worried.
- I need to practice with the Stone – he replied to unspoken accusation – You saw very well Dormammu and what he and his lackeys could do. I'd love it if next time we had a better plan than simply dying over and over again, especially since this time he might come prepared for this.
After a moment of hesitation the Cloak slowly nodded and made a notion of someone heaving a deep sigh.
- I don't like it either – lied Strange – but I need to practice all sort of spells and strategies that might prove invaluable in the future when we won't have time to plan.
The relic pointed quite decisively at the Eye.
- Okay, fine, we'll always have the time - answered Strange irritated at pointing out a flaw in his logic – But we might want to be prepared anyway. After all, the Stone doesn't make me exactly immortal, right?
The Cloak flew to him and wrapped itself rather tightly around Stephen.
- I know you won't let that happen – he murmured a bit embarrassed. - Let's fly now, as promised – he changed the subject not exactly smoothly.
He's never been particularly good in all these tender, touchy-feely moments, when he was supposed to reciprocate the warm feelings someone has shown him. He blamed it on his parents and their strict, distant approach towards their kids. Easier to blame them than to improve yourself?- whispered the tiny voice that used to chastise him when he was a kid, then got quiet when he grew up and decided that no citicism shall apply to him anymore. It seemed to be rearing its head again after saving the world from Dormammu. After all he did make some mistakes back then...
His thoughts have been cut off abruptly as the Cloak pulled him in the air and rushed towards the Rotunda of Gateways gaining speed with every second.
- Slow your turboboost, K.I.T.T., I have received enough complaints about our opprobrious habit of bursting in at precarious speed. - scolded Strange without much hope to be heeded.
Unsurprisingly the Cloak just shook its collar as if shaking off an annoying fly and gathered even more speed.
- I'll make sure to be equally obedient to your wishes, too, my indispensible part of a hero wardrobe
The Cloak just stroked his cheeks pleasantly.
- Good to know you treat me with a respect the Sorcerer Supreme deserves.
The Cloak just whirled them both happily and shot through one of the gateways and into the Hong Kong Sanctum, this time not even making anyone jump. They whizzed by too quickly for Strange to catch anyone's faces, but he'd bet his handicapped hands there would be yet another lengthy complaint on his Gmail chastising him for behaviour unbefitting of a Sorcerer Supreme tonight. They somehow did not want to believe him when he tried to put all the blame on the Cloak. 'The Sorcerer Supreme must be able to contain his Relic!', yeah, right. Would be much easier if not for the fact that Strange finally managed to enjoy high speeds again after the accident. And the Cloak knew that too, so any discussion was a lost cause.
They've soared over Hong Kong, the Cloak tightly wrapped around him to protect from icy cold wind striking them on that altitude. The miriades of city lights were streaking away and the cacophony of a conurbation quiesced allowing Strange to take in all the magnificent and overwhelming beauty of a human civilisation. On a night like that, when one could fly high above the metropolis, for a moment far from any worries, it was easy to forget all the downsides of a rapid development and just enjoy the unforgettable view. The Cloak has spent some time circling above Hong Kong, but Strange knew the ultimate destination lied elsewhere. And sure enough the Cloak soon pulled him East, towards the vast darkness that was the sea. First time they did it Strange was surprised. What could be more enjoyable than watching the great city from great height, circling among tall buildings, plummeting towards bustling streets? There was nothing at the sea, aside freighters and ferries and even these the Cloak ignored rushing into the blinding darkness of open waters. But, when they've finally, after a lengthy flight, stopped in the middle of nowhere, suspended between the two vastness of The Unknown – the deep sea and the night sky, he had understood why the Cloak had brought him here. Since then they've been coming here often as if the Cloak wanted to remind them both their place in the Universe. And also, on the starry nights, it was even more beautiful than any city.
They have floated together in peaceful harmony for some time. Strange's thoughts drifted towards past days, piecing together once again all little things that have happened, all the information he has acquired, all the new knowledge he's devoured. It always surprised him a bit that he actually enjoyed that little pause in his usually fast paced life, that pause the Cloak was giving him. Maybe it was one of these changes that come to people with age as his father used to tell him? When he was younger he would have never indulge himself in doing nothing. It was a waste of precious time, just like sleeping, which he hated with passion thinking how much time was lost because of that, just like he hated small talk, driving slowly... He sighed. Or was it the confrontation with Dormammu? Standing on the verge of an event that would destroy their whole dimension and kill all humanity and other living here species, dying repeatedly over and over again to stop it... it was hardly a thing that couldn't change a man to some point. Whatever the reason, he started to appreciate more the moment of contemplation and reflexion shared with someone he cared so badly for. Or was that the reason? Not age, not Dormammu, not lessons given to him by the Ancient One, but the fact that he was here with his Cloak, for months now the closest being and probably the only one that cared for him so badly? Well, there was Christine once, she was there for him for such a long time, but he had effectively destroyed this relationship. Well, and no wonder. Looking at all that has transpired between them from her position (the feat that was never easy for him) it was remarkable she had given him so many chances and so much effort she did.
He shook off the guilt and ache that still dwelled deep inside and redirected his thoughts on his current companion. The Cloak. He guessed it was telling that the human he get along best in all his life was the one that has been changed into magical garment, unable to talk back and not having all that many needs to be catered. It wouldn't stop him when he was monologuing, he usually wouldn't bother him (much) when he was studying, it wouldn't complain about sex, about not going for a date where it wanted, about not celebrating anniversaries, about not thought through gifts and generally about Strange being selfcentered, haughty dick he now strongly suspected he sometimes was. Granted, it could be whimsical and needy, but Strange suspected it was much more because of its boredom than actual problem it had with Strange or world in general, as other his partners had. Comparing to any other the Cloak was so much less time and effort consuming, so much easier to please and never truly angry with him, never truly willing to leave...
Truly it was telling what kind of a man he was if he get along best with a magical cloak of all beings. He never was big on romanticism and little sweet gestures, but still he wasn't a caveman either. So he placed a light kiss on the tall collar. The Cloak immediately responded with a strong hug.
- You're the sweetest thing, my dear flying carpet – he purred affectionately.
There fell a heavy silence as the Cloak went dangerously still.
- You know very well it was a compliment, my love – he added sweetly.
The Cloak might have been much more lenient than any of his human lovers, but few may they be, it still had its boundaries and rules. He stroke Stephen's cheeks very gently.
And then he detached itself from the sorcerer.