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It Began with a Goodbye
by Riley Berg
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Chapter Six
It takes another night of rejuvenation for me to feel whole again. We roll out the futon in the common area again, but I know we will have to make other arrangements eventually.
With my body fully healed, I am reminded that my spirit is not. No number of deaths experienced could prepare me for the death of my mother. In search of diversion, I use the portal to Kamar-Taj. I apologize to Wong—who pretends not to care—and assure him I am well again and have put in place maintenance measures to prevent it from happening again.
"But I will be staying in New York to do so."
"I have continued the search," Wong turns the subject to more pressing matters.
"Good. I will help with that again, as well. We need to find it." I pause, pulling in a somewhat ragged breath. "When I… left, I did not do so because I thought my studies were complete, or even because I felt I could study better elsewhere. I left in… frustration. Anger, even. But however quickly I may have learned, or relearned, I still… want to continue. But with Mother gone," and without returning to Charles's, "I have no one to guide me, so, Wong, if you…"
I do not know how to finish. But I do not have to. Wong nods his head.
"Thank you. Perhaps it will not be so frequently as I would like, with our other task at hand, and the time I have to dedicate to… my health," or, rather, the payment for it, "but I look forward to working with you once again, Wong."
I leave Kamar-Taj with a stack of books to search through, but decide to attend to the Sanctum instead. Strange is not in sight, or within the range of my voice, so I decide to pick my own starting place. Perhaps we can use the repair and tidying of the Sanctum as practice for the skills Stephen seeks to develop, but I would like a place of my own within the dormitories even if I will not often sleep there.
Some hours later, Strange finds me in one of the dormitory rooms, now clean and organized. I have little possessions to my name, but I have fetched the few I do have from Kamar-Taj. A small picture of Mother rests on the mantle above the fireplace next to a book of a similar size, written in her own hand. A wooden box on the bedside table holds an old SHIELD badge that has no use but sentiment, alongside a black pearl necklace Ástriðr sent me when she finally left Earth. The drawer beneath holds a number of t-shirts I had commissioned in a moment of silliness while living with my super friends, each one a reminder of a dear friend among the Avengers. I have no keepsakes to remind me of my times with Charles or his companions, but recent memory is enough for now.
I close the book I was searching for information on the selection of Sorcerers Supreme and look up. Steven is in his Master's robes (with the Cloak), a comical contrast to the plastic in his hands which my nose notices hold hot food.
"Takeout?"
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The next day, I am pleasantly surprised by a call from my friend Sue.
"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?" she asks without waiting for me to say "Hello."
"Thanksgiving!"
"What?"
"I almost forgot," I laugh.
"Oh."
"I was not even in the country last Thanksgiving," I excuse myself, "and with all that has happened in the last few weeks… my mind was elsewhere."
Sue chuckles, readjusting to my odd personality with practiced ease. "So, you going to join us, or are you staying at Charles's?"
"I am not actually at Charles's, and I would love to come." But what about Strange? He is American; he is accustomed to celebrating the holiday. Does he have family or friends to spend it with? "Sue?"
"Yes."
"I have a… friend. I am not sure whether or not he has plans, but if he does not, is it okay if I invite him?"
"A '…friend,'" she imitates my manner of speaking, "that is a man, and you want to invite to spend Thanksgiving with you?"
I groan internally, but say, "No," with firmness.
"No?"
"No, Sue. It is not like that, and you know it, because if it was like that, I would have said so. The pause that you hung your assumption on was because I am not sure I can call him a friend as opposed to a simple acquaintance." I sigh. "Just because you are blessedly in love does not mean everyone around you is dropping like flies, too."
There is a pause, and then, "Yes, you can bring him. You might want to forewarn him of our… eccentricities."
I laugh. Between having his mundane mind introduced to reality and his, well, saving the world, h has had his fair share of odd experiences. "He will fit right in."
"Okay," she says somewhat hesitantly. "Tomorrow, at one. And Ben says you better bake him a pie."
We end the call with pleasant goodbyes and my face falls. One pie is not going to cut it. I venture to the kitchen and am not surprised to find it in disarray. The pantry is bare, as is the freezer. There is nothing but a half-full bottle of soda in the fridge.
"Master Stephen," I call, uncertain where he is, "I am going out. You need anything?"
A portal opens before me and through it steps an irritated Strange. "You interrupted my meditation."
"If I could interrupt it, you were not doing it correctly," I smirk.
He glares.
I sigh.
"I am going to the store; do you want anything?"
"No."
"You have plans for Thanksgiving?" I ask of a sudden.
"Thanksgiving?"
"You know, the American holiday where people get together with their families or friends and eat an inadvisable amount of food and hopefully have a good time?"
He narrows his eyes with a hint of an exasperated sigh. "I know what Thanksgiving is."
"So, do you have plans?"
"No."
"Good. You can join mine."
He betrays his surprise. "What?"
"You can join my plans for Thanksgiving," I clarify. "I am spending it with friends, and they said I could bring someone."
"I'll pass."
"You can wear your Masters' robes."
He looks at me quizzically but turns down my invitation a second time.
"Come on, you cannot spend it alone."
"Why not?"
"Because no one should be alone," I answer seriously. "And if you refuse to join me, I will sic Wong on you instead," I add on a more lighthearted note. But I really will do it.
Strange appears to weigh his options.
"Do your friends have senses of humor?"
"Yes," I reply in confusion.
"Then I will go."
I smile. "Alright, I will let them know."
%%%
Strange complains about my lack of teaching only once. I manage to clean the kitchen just enough to work in and bake far more than one pie. Reed can eat a whole pie by himself, Johnny will devour the better part of two, and Ben… well, I think he stopped at four last time because there were no more.
By the time noon rolls around on Thanksgiving Day, I have the pies carefully arranged in a cooler for easy transport and I am standing in front of the mirror making last-minute wardrobe decisions. I historically spent so much time downplaying my appearance that it is nice to dress up again. I wear gray suede leggings and matching suede boots in black, with a white tunic of Greek-inspired design, edged in gold. My hair is curled and pinned up with golden headbands. With a little effort, I am able to extend my shapeshifting abilities to my wooden bracelets as well as my clothes, turning them into golden bands to match the rest of my attire. The boys will be surprised to find me wearing my hair long and blonde and showing my natural green eyes; I think only Sue has seen me thus.
"Master Stephen," I find him in the entry hall (in his Masters' robes after all), "I am always behind on human fashion. Is this too gaudy?"
"You're asking the wrong person," he says, eyeing me. "But I think it looks okay."
"Thanks for your vote of confidence," I mumble as I walk down the stairs, wondering if I really was incorrect about Strange's attention to fashion. Maybe that was his mundane self, and he is abandoning that part of himself as he comes to know reality.
The Cloak of Levitation rests in midair near one wall of the entryway. I tilt my head at it. I suppose, considering the company we are joining…
"You can bring her if you want."
Strange looks at me quizzically, then follows my gaze to the Cloak.
"Her?"
"Her," I smile.
He says nothing further but swings the Cloak over his shoulders. I watch as he walks toward the doors, wondering whether or not it is a figment of my imagination that he seems more relaxed.
"We will have to take a cab. They have… measures in place that might interfere with our using a portal."