%
It Began with a Goodbye
by Riley Berg
%
Chapter Eleven
I wake to a clear sky Christmas morning. Snow fell last night and has yet to be marred, making the scene outside my window whiter than usual. I smile at in appreciatively. There is something about a white Christmas that I have come to appreciate since my reintroduction into society, though I am unsure what that something is.
Waking alone is quiet. Not just in volume, but also in feeling, if that is possible. I recognize that it is a lonely sort of silence, but push the thought to the back of my mind as I put on my favorite Christmas album, Trans-Siberian Orchestra's The Christmas Attic, to banish the quiet as I get ready for the day. I ponder my appearance in the mirror. Mourning robes, as I have worn for many weeks now.
Some people find Christmastime depressing—some people, like me, that have had losses in their lives. Certainly, no one would blame me for being a little sad today, with Mother gone.
Except her.
Unbidden, a smile appears on my face at the thought.
Mother was never one to dwell on the past, and she had a lot of past to dwell on. How many times had I heard her say it? History is to be learned from, but if the past occupies our present, we have no future. It was my mantra many a day. But I am taking too long to learn it. I dwelt in regret for more years than I care to admit. Even now, much of what I do is intended as repentance for the mistakes of my past. The thought is always there at the back of my mind.
I shake my head, realizing that my mind has drifted back to dark thoughts from the light Mother's memory provided. Forcing myself to recall that happiness, I change into my Masters' robes for the first time since I left Kamar-Taj after Kaecilius's betrayal.
Mother would not want me to mourn today, or from this day forth. So I shall not.
I pick up one of the two presents left at the end of my bed and glance at Mother's picture on the mantle.
No, goodbye never does get easier, but somehow, I move on. After all, as Mother would say, memories are to be honored, not replayed.
%%%
I am relieved to find Stephen still asleep as I sneak into his room. I enjoy giving gifts, but not being present when they are opened. Quietly, I place the (beautifully, if I do say so myself) wrapped gift on the trunk at the foot of his large bed, hoping the position is prominent enough to catch his attention.
With the same stealth, I successfully make my way out of the room and toward the kitchen, after my customary greeting to the Cloak of Levitation.
If my movements were not enough to wake him, the aromas of breakfast are.
"Ah, you are awake. I was just about to call you."
"You slept well?" he asks as he helps laden the table with the small bounty I ended up cooking for breakfast.
I nod, wondering why the idle chitchat. I had first thought him straightforward or silent and nothing between, but the last week has proven there are still parts of his character I have not seen. He seems determined to be alone, and yet he lets me stay here. He has yet to take the opportunities I give him to go out with his friends—that he still denies having—or respond to my encouragements to make friends. And yet, he invited me to live with him. I could barely convince him to sleep alone last night, since this time he knew I had no plans. I shake my head at his Cloak-ed back as he exits the kitchen with the final platter of food. Such a contradiction of a man.
Both having eaten more than we should, we slowly package the leftovers and put them in the fridge. I am beginning to enjoy the quiet Christmas morning; it reminds me of Christmases with Mother. But I have a few calls to make. My friends from SHIELD and the Avengers will have to do without, but I can call Charles and company, and Sue's crew.
When Stephen and I put the office in order, I made sure to set up the equipment for video conferencing. I go there now to call the Con-Room at Charles's school. A quick message to Ororo on her personal phone alerts her to my intentions, and by the time I am certain all the technology is ready, a signal announces an incoming call.
I smile at the sight that appears on the screen. Not only Charles and Ororo, but Jean, Scott, a reluctant Logan, and a pajama-clad Marie all greet me with merry smiles.
Though I see the unspoken concern in Charles's eyes, we all make light conversation as my friends disappear from the screen one-by-one, leaving me with their well wishes. When we are finally alone, I expect him to say what is on his mind, but he does not. Instead, he looks to the side of the screen. I look behind me.
"Stephen."
"Sorry, I just thought I heard voices."
"You did," I laugh. "Did I not tell you I set the office up for video calls?"
"I think you did. Sorry for interrupting." He ducks out of the doorway, Cloak swirling behind him.
I turn back to the screen. "Sorry about that. You were saying?"
"Nothing."
I raise my eyebrows. "Nothing?"
"Well, no. But it doesn't matter now. Merry Christmas, Sophy. I'll let you get back to your day."
Unable to identify what he is withholding, I let it go for now. "Goodbye, Charles."
"Stephen!" I call as soon as the screen goes blank.
He appears with another "Sorry."
I exhale sharply through my nose. "The rate at which you are apologizing is most unbecoming, Stephen."
He opens his mouth—I suspect to say "Sorry" again—but then closes it without uttering a syllable.
"I am going to call Sue now. Would you please join me in wishing them all a Merry Christmas?"
Stephen reluctantly agrees.
The conversation is only a little awkward. We two exchange the usual Christmas pleasantries with the four at the Baxter Building. I make an excuse for ending the call by saying I have to see to Christmas dinner preparations.
Which is not a lie. I stand in the kitchen doorway somewhat daunted. I have been doing a lot of cooking lately. At least I only have to cook for three.
"Need help?"
I almost scoff, but think better. "Yes," I answer honestly, but wonder what task I can give him.
With a shrug, I finally enter the kitchen. Hopefully, the Cloak will prevent him from accidently setting things on fire.
%%%
Dinner with Stephen and Wong is unsurprisingly quiet, but I do enjoy the sight of the two men together. Despite Stephen's earlier refusal to acknowledge his friendship with Wong, it is evident from the way they act toward each other that there is at least the beginnings of friendship between them. It is just a very… Stephen-y, Wong-y friendship. I smile. They are suited to each other.
Wong dismisses himself shortly after dessert. He woke early to attend dinner in New York time and looks tired. I send him away with his present and an extra slice of pie. Now my Christmas deliveries are complete.
With Stephen insisting on putting away the final traces of food himself, I make my way upstairs to the attic room to my favorite window. It does not boast much of a view, because of its design, but there is something comforting about sitting in its light.
Stephen finds me there, with a book in one of his scarred hands as has been usual of late. I watch him in my peripheral vision as he stands in the doorway, perhaps debating his next action. He takes a stumbling step forward and I withhold a laugh, realizing the Cloak—which does not usually manifest its sentience in front of me—must have pushed him forward. He sighs audibly and steps farther into the room—under his own power—but shrugs off the Cloak before he approaches me.
"Sophia."
"Hmm?" I look up, taking silent note that he called me 'Sophia' instead of 'Sophy' and without the use of 'Master.'
After a moment of silence, he sits beside me. I set the book aside.
"You were looking at me like that," he suddenly says.
"What?"
"Like you look at Sue and Reed and them," he explains a little hurriedly.
I raise an eyebrow.
"You consider me a friend." It is not a question, but he waits as if for an answer.
I do not know how to answer. The truth is that I do consider him a friend, but I wonder if that is what he wants to hear. He has ignored my acts of friendship—or they have gone unnoticed. Perhaps he intends to reject my friendship and save me the trouble of trying.
I sigh, remembering my conversation with Sue. If it is so, it is for the best, for Stephen's sake.
"Yes," I reply honestly.
"But I did not consider you one."
There it is.
"So that we are clear with each other: am I to understand that you are declining my friendship?"
"No."
"No?"
"No. I just meant that you acted as my friend even though I did not reciprocate your actions. And I… apologize. For not reciprocating."
I stare at him in wonder. Stephen Strange remains a mystery to me. Will I ever understand him? I am usually so quick to understand people!
"What I mean is: I am offering my friendship in return."
I smile. "Thank you," I extend a hand, though it is somewhat awkward in our still seated position. He accepts it. "Friend," I add.
Neither of us certain what to do now, we sit in silence, though it is only a mildly uncomfortable one.
"You said that you stopped using sorcery for a while," he asks, and I get the impression that it is not so much of a sudden as something that has been on his mind for a while. "Why?"
I take a deep breath and consider my new friend (not new on my part, of course, but new on his). No one left on this planet knows me fully, with Mother gone and Ástriðr—the only friend I ever completely confided in—off-world. But those that I have befriended, especially those I have lived with, and more especially those who have condescended to share a bed with me, are privileged to know something of me. I have already given him a summary of my life story. In fact, the answer to his question was within that telling.
"As I alluded to in my… history lesson when I first began teaching you, I used my abilities for ill when young. I understood that using them for good instead was better than refusing to use them at all, but… circumstances prevented me from doing so completely, so I ceased their use and put myself in isolation instead. I may not have been working toward good, but at least I was not doing people evil."
He listens attentively and when I am done, quietly asks, "Why did you decide to begin using them again?"
"The… complication that prevented me from doing naught but good was finally… solved. I decided to take myself out of isolation and finally try to do some good, therefore. But after so many years of disuse… it was difficult for me to make that change. My best friend and SHIELD partner also had powers she refrained from using, so as we worked together, it was more comfortable for me to continue that way. But… she left. And over time I realized the hypocrisy of pretending to be normal while surrounding myself with exceptional people, and I accepted that I was not doing good unless I did so with the utmost of my ability."
I turn to Stephen. "So I returned to Kamar-Taj, and Mother guided me in relearning the Arts, even expanding upon my knowledge. I am only sorry I could not use my reclaimed powers to prevent Kaecilius's betrayal, or help prevent his near-success."
%%%
%%%
Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your continued support, for all of you that have read, followed, favorited, and reviewed this work and spread the word to your friends. Follow me on Twitter RileyBergBooks for continued updates.