A/N

(Like obvious) this chapter will center on: Stephen / Christine / Cloaky

I wanted the chapter to be longer, but somewhere while typing my characters had some awesome ideas and talked me into letting it end where it ends.
The rest of the (originally planned) chapter will be up soon, hopefully.

Have fun reading!

Taking a deep breath, Stephen decided against sleep. He wanted this out of the world right now, right here. Even if it meant leaving this cozy, relaxed state with her resting on his chest. Slowly sitting up and moving away from her, he looked at her.

"What is it between the cloak and you?" he repeated his question, this time firmer.

He could see something move on her face. Annoyance at best. "Nothing." Something dark at worse. She responded again, this time cooler.

He wanted to say 'Yeah, sure. You stare at it like that because it's nothing.' but decided to frown instead, cupping her face gently and stroke her cheek with his thumb. "What is it?" he asked for a third time, this time sad and gentle. "You know you can tell me everything, right?"

That annoyance disappeared from her face gradually until there was only sadness left. Insecurity. And fear. He just sat there beside her, stroking her face and kept his mouth shut. He couldn't ask again. The best he could do was wait if she would start to speak. If he pushed her he would get no answer at all.

"I…" she started to speak but didn't get past the I. She just sat there, looking at him with those sad, fearful eyes and didn't get a word further. Again, he only smiled reassuringly and continued to gently stroke her face.

"Would you choose the cloak over me?" she finally asked, her voice weak and afraid.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but not that for sure. Did she really believe he would abandon her for the cloak? How did she get that idea? He had to keep from snorting as it would surely not help their starting conversation.

"I would never choose the cloak over you." He stated gently, seeing something shift in her gaze. There were annoyance, fear and something different. Something like sullen coldness. She didn't believe him, did she? What had he missed during those last two weeks? They had been together for most of it, after all. How could he miss stuff?

"You say that. If I asked you to send it away, right here, right now, would you do it?"

He opened his mouth to object or ask why or anything but stopped himself. Asking questions back would only prove her point or infuriate her or hurt her. He wanted none of that.

"Yeah." Christine snapped at him, tears in her eyes. "You have to think about it."

Stephen stared at her, startled. "There is nothing to think about. I'm just confused."

"Why would you be confused?" Christine snapped again, hurt filling her words. "That thing tried to kill me!" her voice broke while she was yelling at him, true fear shining in her eyes. And probably disbelieve that he didn't see the obvious.

He once again wanted to open his mouth to object, defend his poor cloak, but he stopped himself. There was true fear in her eyes. She was terrified. She… she believed that the cloak had wanted to murder her. It was her truth. He couldn't simply dismiss that. Dismissing it would make her believe that he didn't care for her. Didn't take her seriously. Didn't take them seriously. She went to great lengths to ensure his back healed as fast as possible and he laughed into her face when she told him her greatest fear. Good move. Nice boyfriend. Probably not for much longer.

"I will never let it harm you." He said softly.

His answer was a mixture of a strangled sob and a hysterical laugh. "It already did that!" she yelled hysterical, gesturing towards her throat. He could see the weak golden glimmer of magic on her skin. Still, after all those days. A part of him believed he would see it forever. A constant reminder, that she could have died on that street, right in front of his eyes. He only stared at her, unable to say a thing. He couldn't -

"It tried it again. It sneaked into the bedroom and floated above me. Only inches!" she spat at him, obviously angry that he hadn't said anything. "Stephen, it wanted to suffocate me! If I wouldn't have woken up when I did, I would probably be dead!" While she screamed at him, tears were running down her face, fear shining in her eyes.

Seeing her like that, all that fear and hurt and panic... He couldn't tell her, that the cloak didn't want to murder her. She wouldn't believe that. Not right now. Maybe never. He sighed softly and got up, aiming for the door.

"You are walking out on me?" she asked, disbelieve and hurt filling her voice.

She watched Stephen's facial expression. He didn't seem happy with her telling him the truth. That his stupid precious piece of cloth had tried to kill her. Was still trying to kill her. She saw it in his face. He didn't believe her. He thought very differently about all of it. He loved his cloak. When he got up, she watched in disbelieve, how he took a few steps.

"You are walking out on me?" Christine asked, her voice hurt and hollow. She couldn't believe it. He was picking this shitty cloak over her. She should have kept her mouth. Stick to "Nothing" as an answer as it seemed to be the only one he accepted.

She closed her eyes, feeling new, hot tears on her cheeks. She would have to get up and storm out of her own flat, which didn't feel right to begin with, but could she throw him out? Could she do that? No, she couldn't. She… she had lost him. To a stupid rag of red fabric. She… and while she felt her heart clench and her world fall to pieces, she felt his warm, trembling hand cup her cheek again. Such a sweet gesture, which said nothing at all. I'm sorry, Christine. You are just not worth it. You have no idea what will come for us. I need that cloak.

"I'll send it away." This voice she loved that much told her. At first, his words didn't register with her. She heard them, but she didn't hear them. They were just meaningless characters slung into words building a sentence. They were just that. Nothing. Just like her. Nothing. He left her. For a cloak. The soft pressure of his lips against hers made her snap out of her catatonic state. She looked at him, her world blurry. Stephen. He had always been the love of her life. Losing him now to a fuck-

I'll send it away. Slowly, as if within a dream, she blinked. Had she imagined those words? That he would send it away? He couldn't mean that he wanted to… but looking up at him, there was only calm determination in his eyes.

"You… you…" she stammered, not getting a word out of her mouth.

"I'll go into your living room, create a portal, be away for a few minutes and be right back again. And the cloak won't be with me."

She stared at him, her mouth slightly open. She hadn't expected that. She really hadn't expected that. Sure, she had hoped it would happen, that he would choose her but…

Watching how he smiled weakly at her and turned and left the room, she still couldn't believe it. Hearing that hissing sound, she winced. And then there was silence.

Cloak had wanted to look for its master, floating in the open bedroom door, making sure to not enter the room. Nearly instantly, it felt Christine's gaze on it. Afraid and angry and hateful. Moments later, its master had seen it and had asked Christine what was wrong. Cloak had floated away at that, knowing it was wise to give them some privacy. Christine was upset because of something it had done and it simply couldn't figure out what. Sure, it hadn't succeeded in protecting her, had to watch her nearly die on that street. It did indeed deserve eternal shame for that, but all that hate? It had done nothing wrong. Not after not being able to save her. It had tried to be the best cloak in the world. In the uni-multi-verse even. It had remained in the living room without comment when Christine asked for it. It tried to help her in every possible way. Water her plants, sort her books alphabetically, carry groceries for her to the kitchen when she came in. Never a thank you. Never even a word. Only that look. Fear- and hateful at the same time.

One night when it had heard Christine wince and whimper, it had decided to float and check on her. Make sure everything was fine. Floating above her, it checked her body. Everything seemed fine. Just a bad dream. This one seemed worse, though. Cloak had half a mind to wake its master, make this peaceful sleeping moron aware of her distress when she woke up and stared at it. The sheer panic in her gaze had made it flip away and leave the room. Christine didn't want it to enter the bedroom. It should have stayed away for good.

Hearing them argue now, because of it, cloak let its collar drop. If Stephen would choose it over her? The question was ridiculous! Its master didn't need to choose between them. The dynamic was a purely different one. Christine was Christine. The love of its master's life. It was his cloak. There was nothing more to say. Back, in their original timeline, Christine and it had been great friends. It missed that Christine. The happy, cheerful, laughing woman, it had accepted that easily. It had been easy to see why Stephen fell for her in the first place.

"That thing tried to kill me!" Christine's snapping voice made cloak snap out of its thoughts. Did she mean that? Seriously? It would never do such a thing! It would never harm its master's… it wanted to float into the room, all angry and upset when the following words made it stop. Her tone. Her shaking voice. She was obviously crying. She believed those words. Cloak was frozen in mid-air for some moments, shocked into not moving. She believed it had wanted to kill her. Back on that fateful, dreadful street. Its collar dropped even lower, cloak dropping until it touched the ground. Christine thought that it had wanted to kill her. That it still wanted to kill her. Sure, she hated it for that.

When Stephen left the bedroom, it snapped up, floating to him and gesturing around like a maniac. Like the mad, desperate cloak it was. It didn't mean her any harm! Its master had to know that! He couldn't send it away! It was nothing without him! Stephen simply stared at it, creating a portal. The cloak stared at it for some long seconds. It could refuse to leave. It could run away. Yet, for what cost? If it wanted to help its master right now, it had to leave. His girl thought it wanted to murder her in her sleep, after all. Once again, it let the collar drop and floated through the portal, hearing how Stephen followed it.

"I don't think you want to kill her." The words of its master were instantaneous. Cloak had to let them sink in before it swirled around and wrapped itself around Stephen, softly rippling against his skin. Its master didn't believe it had wanted to harm her. Of course, he didn't believe that. He knew it, after all. They trusted each other. They were master and cloak. Simple as that.

"I'll get you back as soon as I can." Its master stated, meanwhile managing to free himself of its embrace. He patted cloak for a moment, created a portal and was gone. All cloak could do was float and feel lonely. It should be at its master's side. The next random alien would surely pop up any second now, with it being alone in some stupid room in Kamar-Taj.

Snapping out of her nightmare, Christine ripped her eyes open, staring into the darkness of the night. For a few long seconds, she was still laying on that street, blood flowing from her wound. Stephen above her, looking terrified. He knew he couldn't save her. And he knew she knew it. He had never been good at hiding anything from her. She knew she was dying. Blinking, she reoriented herself. She didn't lay on cold concrete. She didn't feel blood run from her cut throat. She… she was laying on Stephen's chest, comfortably wrapped in his arms. At least, she hadn't trashed around like a maniac and had woken him in the process. No, her hurt angel slept peacefully, holding her close. For some long moments, she allowed herself to enjoy their position. The warmth of his skin, the sound of his heartbeat, the security of his embrace. Then she sighed and slipped away carefully.

Sleeping on his chest hadn't been the plan. The plan was to wait until he was in dreamland and then slip away. Don't strain his back even more. Her poor love. She knew he tried to hide it and be all tough man, but every time she massaged the ointment into his skin, she felt him flinch below her touch and heard him whimper. He was far from good. And sleeping on him didn't further the cause.

She watched him for some long moments. Her peacefully sleeping idiot. With a sigh on her lips, she bent down to peck his lips and carefully slipped out of bed. Leaving the room altogether.

She slipped into her bathrobe and settled on her couch. Catching herself, how she looked around, she shook her head. She had looked for the cloak, expecting it to lurk in some corner and jump at her while she was distracted. Stephen had brought it away, though. He had chosen her over that stupid rag. And yet… it didn't feel like a victory. She knew how much the stupid cloak meant to Stephen. They had seen the end of the world together, after all. They had survived, although through sheer luck. Who was she to complain? She had her Stephen. And the cloak… for a moment, she felt something like sympathy for the stupid rag. All alone, wherever Stephen had brought it. Then she remembered that that stupid rag had tried to kill her repeatedly, and all her empathy turned into the cold hatred she was used to. As if she was going to miss that stupid thing.

Finally checking the time, she sighed again. 2 am. Falling asleep with him furthered the complete screw up of her sleeping times. Not that she had been any good in it before, with working at the hospital, but she could at least pretend! Now, she often fell asleep with him and woke up whenever her body saw fit. And he, he just slept for hours without end. She knew he needed it, of course. And yet…

Getting up again, she picked up her laptop and snuggled into her couch. She had wanted to do something. Something productive. Yet, she ended reading through questionable news articles online, went lost on YouTube and just watched through whatever came up on autoplay next.

Stephen's sleepy "Morning." startled her. With her head snapping up from a movie review she didn't even know the movie for, she looked at him. Soft light played on his face. Sure. Light. Morning. She had definitely realized that it had gotten brighter, but she had completely ignored the time.

"Morning." She finally greeted back. "How was your sleep?"

He smirked softly. "Lonelier than I hoped it would be." He stated, sitting down beside her and stealing a soft morning kiss from her lips.

She rolled her eyes, making sure to glimpse at the time on her laptop. Fuck. "Well, not all of us can sleep soundly until 10." She stated, got up and stretched herself. She could see a sad glimmer in his eyes. He had surely expected her to sit there for a little, maybe cuddle a bit. Yet, it was 10. They needed something for breakfast. Or freakin early lunch.

Entering the kitchen, she heard him follow her. When she looked up, he leaned against the door frame, watching her calmly.

"The usual?" she asked, already grabbing for his porridge.

"Yep." He stated, watching her every move. She simply smiled, got some milk from the fridge and started to heat it. Porridge always tasted better with milk. At least, if someone would ask her. Meanwhile, she started to cut some fruits. Stephen had insisted, that he would eat it without fruits, but… no. She wouldn't watch her boyfriend eat only porridge for breakfast. When she was done cutting peaches and strawberries into small bits, she put the knife aside, looking at him. "Why couldn't I know this you earlier? All humble." She asked jokingly.

He cocked his head, a small grin on his face. Oh… she knew that expression. He was going to make a really bad…

"Why? Because you wanted to save thousands of dollars wooing me?"

She looked at him for a moment… then she burst into laughter. That was true. She could have saved the money she had spent on the watch. She had 'only' gotten it because she knew he loved expensive stuff. And of course, she wanted that he could show her present off. See, what my girl gifted me! Yet, she knew she would have gotten it for him anyway. She earned enough to afford to buy it.

The milk daring to burn made her snap out of her laughing fit, moving to save what could be saved. Afterward, she stared at the boiling milk and started to giggle. She had nearly burned milk because of laughing. Catching herself, while still giggling, she grabbed a bowl, added his porridge and milk and threw the fruit slices in. After everything was mixed, she took a deep breath and looked at him.

He still stood there, leaning against the door frame, watching her with a smile. It was an honest, loving smile, which reached his eyes. Seeing it, she realized how long she hadn't seen one. Not ever since (that street). No, not ever since. She had always been a bit absent and he seemed to have picked her behavior up, even though unknowingly. And then, she realized what had changed. The cloak was gone. She felt more free and happier without it constantly floating around. Could she… tell him that? She didn't want to talk about the stupid rag right now. Feeling, how her good mood faded, she took the initiative, walked to him and caught his lips in a passionate kiss. One of those kisses, they hadn't shared for two long weeks. (Except for yesterday, but yesterday had been odd.) Breaking away, she looked into his eyes. Those warm, loving eyes.

"I love you." It left her lips, once again without her knowing that she wanted to say it. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for caring about me. Thank you for listening to me. Thank you for sending the cloak away.

He looked at her for a long moment, obviously baffled. Then he pulled her close and kissed her. Long and passionately.

Stephen stared at her for a long moment after she said those magical three words. With all his discipline, he kept his emotions from his face. She couldn't see them. All she should see was being surprised. He knew he should be happy. He knew he had waited for ages to hear those words in his original timeline. He had been all giddy back then when she finally said them. Hugged her and kissed her and them finally ending in his bed, making love. It hadn't been sex that time. It had been making love. Slow and teasingly and torturous and perfect.

This time, however, he could count one and one together. She hadn't said it after that day. That day she nearly died. And now, today, she said it again, right after he had sent the cloak away. He had immediately realized this morning that she was more carefree than ever in those last two weeks. And then she was telling him she loved him…

She had to have been terrified of his poor cloak. How the hell was he going to fix that?

For starters, though, he smashed his lips against hers, pulling her close. Forcing his worried thoughts away, he concentrated on the feeling of their lips moving as one. She had said she loved him. And then, suddenly, without him having expected it at all, there was that giddy feeling. His entire existence narrowing down to her. Her warm body in his arms, her lips against his, her fingers tangled in his hair. There was only Christine. She loved him.