A/N

Finally, coming to an end. (With the Christine / Cloak situation.)

This chapter will have: Stephen / Christine / Cloak / Peter for some reason (he just popped up!)

I'm sorry this chapter took that long. Like you can guess, life happened. Had to sort stuff out. I hope, I can start with the next chapter soon.

Enjoy reading :)

Stephen wasn't sure how it had happened. Or when. Or if he could have prevented it if he had really wanted to. Which he didn't. He was in trouble now. In really bad trouble. His increasing worries stood in stark contrast to how he had felt an hour ago. With Christine moving teasingly slow on top of him. He knew he had wondered, for how long Christine didn't have sex. Then she had snapped her hips and the thought was gone.

Why the hell had he had sex with her?! He had not brought cloak up for the entire day, wanting to give her some time to really calm down. At least, that was what he told himself. He knew very well, that he hadn't wanted to ruin her good mood. That he wanted to see her smile. Still see her smile out of the corner of his eyes, when she thought he didn't look. She all cheery and flirty for the first time in weeks. Ever since she nearly died. More like the woman he always knew. Of course, he knew that she needed time to heal from everything that had happened. PTSD needed time, most of all. Yet, the selfish him he was had fully enjoyed every second of her good mood. While knowing, that it only stemmed from cloak being sent away. As soon as that change turned normal, she would be worse again.

He gulped and sighed. Moving a little, he felt her warm (naked) body press against his. How would he ever bring cloak up again? It would look like he hadn't said anything about it for getting sex with her. And after he had had sex with her, he jumped right at the important topic. Cloak, who was just everything to him. Exactly like that, it would look to Christine. And that would surely ruin his relationship. He couldn't lose her. Not again. Not after... If he would bring up cloak tomorrow, she would freak out, wouldn't she? Fall to pieces right in front of him. He couldn't do that to her.

For a mere second, he felt the temptation to conjure up the Time Stone. Use it to gaze into the future. Flip through timelines until he found one with the result he wanted to have. Keeping both: Her and cloak. Yet, what kind of boyfriend would he be, if he couldn't handle relationship crises without magic? Or outright cheating like using the time stone felt like. He had to talk himself out of that. Or better, convince Christine that cloak didn't want to murder her in her sleep. Even though that seemed impossible.

Warm lips pressing against his made Stephen slowly return to consciousness. Opening his eyes, he met the gentle gaze of his girlfriend.

"Morning handsome." Christine whispered, pecking his lips again and got up. He couldn't stop himself from admiring her naked body. The way she moved. Her firm…

"How are you?" Reluctantly, Stephen moved his eyes away from her breasts and to her eyes. She smirked at him before pulling his shirt over her head, hiding her beautiful body from his eyes.

The question was simple yet dangerous. He hadn't slept much tonight. He had brooded over his problem. How to console Christine with the cloak. He would talk with her today about it. He had to. The longer he pushed it away, the worse it would get. Postponing that problem would only lead to more pain. And he had to bear in mind that he was terrible in hiding things from her. She would know if he was brooding about something. And she wouldn't rest until she knew. If he could control the circumstances, maybe he could achieve the outcome he wanted.

"Perfect." He finally answered her question. It was true, in a way. She was happy. They had had sex. How could he not be happy? "Even though I dislike you obstructing the good view."

Christine snorted at his remark. "Because we wouldn't get anything done if I didn't." She stated matter of factly. "Coffee? And your damn porridge? And how is your back?" Christine went on with her questions while moving through the room. She bent down while picking up some panties from her drawer. Stephen's heart skipped a beat at the sight he was allowed to see. God damn that woman!

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" he asked, watching how she pulled her underwear on.

"Might be." She said innocently. Damn. How could that woman manage innocence after he saw her… "Coffee? Porridge? Back?" she repeated her questions from earlier.

Stephen simply chuckled. "Coffee and porridge are a yes, my back is… not much worse."

He winced slightly while he finally got up to pull on some clothes himself. She had reminded him of the fact, that sex would worsen the state of his back. While undressing him, her lips busy with caressing his neck. Yeah. He knew that. And he hadn't cared.

Entering the kitchen a few minutes later, he took her in. Swirling through the room, making coffee and getting his porridge ready. Still only wearing his white, loose shirt and her panties.

And while looking at her, he realized that this could be the last time he saw her like that. If he messed up, that was. The last time he would see that happy smile. That concentrated gaze while handling the knife. The precise and calm movements, he had watched her do in the ER a thousand times. The last time he would hear her voice. He couldn't screw this up. He simply couldn't.

"Hey." Christine cupping his cheek made him blink. He had zoned out on her again, hadn't he? Damn it, he had to get his thoughts under control.

"Are you thinking about murderous titans again?" she asked softly, watching him. Stephen could just stare at her. And then he blinked. Yes. The last time he had zoned out on her like that had been when he was worried about Thanos. Whether he remembered like him. If he was coming for him

"No." That was true. "Just watching you." He stated softly, fetching his coffee cup and sitting down at the kitchen table. Watching how she placed his bowl of porridge in front of him and sat down herself. She started with her own breakfast. A bun. With Nutella. Tons of Nutella.

"How did you sleep? I didn't feel you trash." She had done that sometimes when the nightmares had been really bad "Or wince or anything." He asked casually, changing the topic away from titans along the way.

"I actually didn't dream at all, which I consider a good thing." Christine stated smiling and returned to eating immediately. He simply smiled as a response. She hadn't dreamt at all. This was good. This meant she was getting better. Hopefully, it would stay like that.

While Christine stuffed herself with Nutella buns, Stephen toyed with his porridge. Moving his spoon around without much appetite. Watching the substance move along lazily. He didn't feel like eating. Not if he could possibly ruin his relationship in a few hours. He didn't want her to get worse again. Have nightmares again. Most likely about the cloak trying to murder her. He couldn't…

No. He had to do this. No chickening out.

"Can I talk with you about something after breakfast?" The sooner, the better. He had to get this done. Else he would probably freak out completely. He needed certainty. Whether they were still together come midday or not.

"About what?" she asked, ripping a piece off of her Nutella bun and continuing to chew on her food. Oh god, did she always eat like that? Or was it foreshadowing of him being ripped apart?

Okay.

That was ridiculous, even he knew that. He took a deep breath, calming his thoughts. He wouldn't lose her. He would sort this out like a grown-up, not at all crazy man.

He placed his spoon on the table, looking at her calmly. Watched how she frowned and placed her nearly completely eaten bun on her plate.

"Is something wrong?" Christine asked, looking serious and worried.

Stephen took a deep breath. For one last time, he looked at her. How she sat there. In nothing else than his shirt and some panties and looked at him. A frown on her beautiful face.

"I have to talk with you about the cloak." He said with a calmness he hadn't expected to have. Not with how nuts he had been during the night, but right now was no time for going nuts. He needed his wits together. He needed to convince her.

He saw how her face fell, anger in her eyes, hurt. He could basically see what was going on in her head. How dare he? Was he kidding her?! They had just talked about the cloak. And they… they had had… He knew how she thought about the cloak. He knew she thought it wanted to murder her. How dare he bring that ragged red thing up again?!

"Christine." He said firmly. "Give me five minutes. To tell you how I see things. After that, you can scream all you want, throw me out of the flat, whatever comes to mind."

Tense silence filled the little room. Nothing of the earlier easy atmosphere was left. He felt her death glare on him and held it. Endured it. One second seemed to drag on into eternity with only silence and her dark, dangerous glare. And more silence. Until she nodded.

"Okay. Five minutes." She stated coldly, her eyes already judging him.

Five minutes.

Five minutes to convince her that cloak didn't want to murder her. Five minutes to save their relationship.

Time's ticking, enough thinking.

Stephen took a deep breath, exhaled and started to speak.

"We got attacked by that alien on the street. Afterward, we went into the bar to talk, well, scream at each other. I used the Time Stone there to look into the future. Some sorcerer must have found me there, using it. Or maybe he found traces of it and followed us. I don't know. It happened. I'm sure of that. The next day you get kidnapped to force me to trade the stone against you. They had to know I had it. And I can't do that. I can't give it away to people who don't know what will come at us. Got Peter and Stark to help me, found you, tried to save you."

He took a deep breath. That far, that obvious.

"I basically had you free already. And then..." he grimaced at the memory. Him getting caught with a whip while he blocked the mirror dimension, Christine being ensnared again. Him looking up and seeing that golden knife close to her throat.

"Everything went south. The cloak tried to rip the sorcerer behind you away but didn't manage in time. That guy sliced your throat. And then... all that blood."

He fell silent, looking at her face. He felt his time ticking away. The five minutes came and went. Christine only stared at him without saying a word. Was this good? Was this bad? He tried to read her face but didn't manage. There was only his racing heart. Panic being pumped through his veins.

"The cloak moved him around and made him slice my throat." Christine stated, her voice cold and firm. Stephen's heart sank. Her tone. He was losing her. She had her believe and he… well, he had his.

"No. I saw him. He moved the knife. Cloak didn't have anything to do with that."

Christine jumped up at that, her face contoured in anger while tears welled up in her eyes.

"Sure you say that. You really love that useless thing if you defend it that madly!" She spat at him, anger and hurt competing in her eyes. Tears running down her cheeks.

Seeing her cry nearly broke him. Nearly. Only the fact that he had to do this right kept him together. He needed both. Christine and cloak. He had to be careful now. Really, really careful. One misplaced word and that would be it.

"I don't defend it. I just want to say it doesn't want to murder you. Not today, not then."

She laughed, cold and despiteful. "Sure. What makes you think that?"

There it was. The one opening he would ever get.

"It doesn't have a reason to murder you."

He felt her gaze, saw how her face froze. Wrong. He had to hurry now. He knew what she was going to say if she got to speak. 'Get out of my flat, Stephen. I never want to see you again.' He couldn't allow that.

With a racing heart, he hurried to add: "It wouldn't dare to. It knows I would turn it to rags if it ever hurt you."

Christine snorted, gesturing to her throat. "It already did that, Stephen, and you didn't do shit. It doesn't care for what you would maybe do as you never punished it in the first place. It came into my bedroom even though you said it shouldn't! It acts all sweet and nice if you are here. And even sweeter if you are away. And then I find it rearranged the kitchen. Including the knives. One is missing! What do you think it wants to do with the knife?!" she asked, her voice turning shrill.

This time, Stephen jumped up, raising his voice involuntarily. "No. It wouldn't ever hurt you! It knows that I value your life more than mine. That's why it went for you."

The love of his life just stared at him. Disbelieve shining in her eyes. She shook her head and turned around, taking a step to walk away. With his heart racing in fear, he moved. He couldn't allow her to leave the kitchen. He grabbed her wrist, holding her back. Christine turned, staring at him with teary eyes. "Let me go!" She yelled with a broken, angry voice, trying to rip free of his grip.

"No. If you want to blame anyone, take me."

Once again, Christine snorted. Her voice was weak now. Tears running freely. "Yeah. Because you love that fucking cloak that much. More than me. Defend it to the bitter end no matter the price."

Because he loved that… No matter the price... That was how she saw him. "No. Because I didn't get you out there in the first place. I should have let them catch us in the mirror dimension. I would have been able to fight them there. And someone would have gotten us out after a while. Because I didn't get you away in this one moment when Mordo stared at you two. Because I couldn't save you." He suddenly felt, how tears ran along his face.

"You got hurt because of me. You nearly died because of me. I see this moment every night in my dreams, again and again. I see how that guy moves the knife while cloak keeps calm for a moment. I see all that blood. I see how you fall." His voice broke. He vaguely realized he hadn't been that emotional in a long while. Maybe never since they knew each other. "In my dreams, you always die, no matter what. Bleed to death in seconds or drown in your blood, or..." he shook his head. "I always try to turn back time by using the stone. To save you. And it always swallows me, overwhelms me and kills me. I never get you out there alive." He let his hand drop, just looking at her. He felt her stare. He saw tears on her face. This was it then. This was it.

But she never turned and left. She never moved an inch. She just stood there and stared at him, her tears drying.

"The cloak didn't move when that man sliced my throat?" she asked disbelieving but unmoving. Staring at his face, gauging his every reaction.

"No. It didn't."

Silence again. It dragged on and on and on. Her gaze and silence and silence and her gaze.

Suddenly, she moved. Raising her hand and cupping his cheek, wiping his tears away with her thumb.

"It didn't?" she asked again.

"It didn't." He answered again, leaning into her touch.

"Prove it."

Stephen opened his mouth to tell her he couldn't. That that was impossible. That he surely could look at future events and at past events, but he couldn't share that with her. That he was terrified that the stone would rip her apart. That

Peter had been there. His suit surely had recorded everything. And it surely stored everything on Stark's servers.

"I'll make a call."

To say he felt uncomfortable felt like the understatement of the year. Yet, he was here. Sitting in a flat he didn't know, staring at two adults who had obviously fought and or cried, with an atmosphere that tense he could barely breathe.

"For what exactly do you need the mask again?" Peter asked fishing said item out of his backpack, eyeing them.

"She wants to see the moment her throat was sliced." The doc told him again. Most likely for the fifth time by now. He still couldn't believe that Christine really wanted to see that. Was it some crude version of visual therapy? Why would she want to see that moment?

"Okay…" Peter said, looking at Christine. "Really?" he asked again. She met his gaze and nodded. An odd determination in her eyes. She had to see it. For whatever reason. He shouldn't ask why Peter decided. Something was going on between them. He shouldn't get involved in that. More than he already was. On his way home, he would call Tony and tell him about this. They seemed that close to breaking up. He didn't want to know what a heartbroken doc could do. Maybe he would try to turn back time and screw them all in the process.

"Okay." Peter repeated, this time firmer. If she wanted this, he would help.

Putting his mask on, Karen greeted him, like always.

"How can I help?" his AI asked dutifully. "Did you learn for your Spanish test already? It's in two weeks." God, he knew that! He had to nearly sink that stupid ferry on the day of the test because they had decided to stick to how things went down until Christmas. Stupid future he didn't like.

"Sure I did." Good that he wasn't wearing the full suit. Karen would have registered an increase in his heart rate while he thought about the ferry. And exactly as she was, she would have asked about it. He didn't want to talk about it. Not at all. Knowing it was coming was worse enough. "Karen, I need you to get a video for me. I'll give the mask to that woman in front of me. Christine. You probably know her. You have to show the video to her."

"Of course I know Doctor Palmer. Which day do you want?"

"Ehm..." he told her the date. "That fight in that alley. Start at the beginning."

A moment later, the alley appeared in front of his eyes as an unmoving image. The first frame of the movie. The doc being beaten up and Christine ensnared in golden ropes. He could see a piece of red at the corner of his vision. The cloak had been beside him, waiting patiently for an opening to help try save Christine.

Pulling his mask off, he handed it to her. "Just tell her to start the video."

Said and done. He watched silently, how Christine watched the video. Or parts of it. And then asked if she could see it again. And again.

After full 20 minutes, in which he just sat there and felt more uncomfortable by the minute, he got his mask back. Christine's gaze was blank for a moment. Staring into nothingness. Then she caught herself and something that might have been a smile under different circumstances appeared on her face. "Thank you." This way though, it was just a grim moving of muscles.

Peter looked at her, unsure what to say, but… the atmosphere had changed again. She had looked at the doc for a mere moment. He got the hint. He should leave. Whatever Christine had needed to see, she had seen it. And based on that they would go on fighting. Or crying. Or whatever. Oh god, please, let whatever not be a breakup! He didn't want to be responsible for that! Stuffing his mask back into his backpack, he looked at the doc. "Saturday remains the same?" He wanted that it remained the same. And at the same time, he didn't. Sure, he had promised it to May, but a heartbroken doc was the least he wanted to see. "Sure. I'll stick to it." was the answer he got.

He would stick to it. Good, he guessed. If they stayed together it would be good. Getting to his feet, he wanted to get going. The sooner he was out of this flat the better. They could go on fighting without him. Which was probably bad, but he couldn't just stay around. It was awkward enough as it was.

"Thanks for your help." The doc said softly, stopping him before he could flee.

All Peter could do, was manage a smile. Just don't break up, because of whatever Christine had seen. If they did, he would always blame himself for it, because he let her see the stupid video. "You are welcome. See you on Saturday."

Stopping at a street corner a block away from Christine's place, he pulled his phone from his pockets. Dialed. Listening to the calling sound, Peter got nervous. Uneasy. It got worse with every passing beep tone. If he didn't answer… but then the call was picked up. He didn't even wait until he heard Tony greet him. "The doc and Christine may break up!" he blurted out.

A few moments went by in utter silence. Peter did wonder if the call had disconnected. Or Tony had hung up on him. But then, he finally responded. "What?! Why... how do you -" Peter cut him off. Maybe for the first time ever. "The doc called me, asked me if I had a video of the day Christine was, well, you know. I have or Karen has. Christine wanted to see it. Was there, did that. They obviously argued before I was there. And I think they are arguing right now, too. Looked like that to me. They could basically not wait to get me out of the flat to be able to go on fighting."

He was silent for a moment. "I don't want to be the reason they break up." He said with a tiny voice. Again, only silence. Then a sigh. "Whatever your head tells you, you are not the reason they break up. If they do at all. They were fighting before you got there."

"Yeah, but-"

"No but. You only showed her something she needed to see. Probably you are the reason for them not breaking up." Tony paused for a moment. "But we do need damage control in case they do."

Peter couldn't help but laugh weakly. "Yeah. I thought the same." What the doc could or would do if he lost her. Peter didn't want to think about that. He really didn't. It was worse than the stupid ferry.

Christine was silent after Peter left. Just sat on the couch and brooded over what she had seen. Multiple times. The wait, the silence made Stephen anxious. What if he had been wrong? What if the cloak had moved while Christine's throat was sliced? What if he only thought that to be true because he had seen it in his dreams on a nightly basis? What if he had made everything worse by showing her the video? She would surely have nightmares again. Only because (he wanted to defend his cloak). If the cloak had moved, then... Oh God, what had he done? Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut?

"You were right."

Christine's unexpected words caught him off guard and made him blink. He was right?

"It didn't move." Christine said in an empty voice. All her emotions seemed to have fled her.

"It did move like a maniac before that. Banging his head against the wall behind him and trying to rip him away, but in that second it didn't move. And not in the immediate second after. It seemed..." and then her voice broke. Suddenly, there were emotions again. Christine started to cry. "It seemed shocked by what happened to me. It flung the guy away, you caught me and then it did everything to keep... Mordo was the name, right? Keep him away from us."

By the second she started to sob, Stephen had wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him.

They stayed like that for a while. Wrapped in each other's arms, staying close. Christine crying. He soothing her by stroking her back. And then, somewhen, she started to hiccup. She broke away from him, looking at him with red, swollen, teary eyes.

"I need to apologize!" she blurted out. "Oh my god, I need to apologize! It didn't want to murder me. Even though I wonder where that knife is, but it didn't want to murder me!"

He just wanted to tell her to calm down, when she jumped to her feet. "Get it back. From wherever you stuffed it. Oh my God, don't tell me it was beneath the bed."

Stephen snorted, not exactly sure if she was trying to make terrible jokes or not. "It wasn't. I don't fancy it around while we have sex." Not after knowing that thing had actual memories. "It's in... Nepal. I asked the Ancient One if it could stay there."

For a moment, he could see something like relief on her face. The timidest smile he had ever seen. And then she took a deep breath. "Okay. I go wash my face. Not that it would actually help, but it gives me the illusion. I'll turn on the radio too. That way I can tune out that terrible portal sound. Yes. That sounds good. You get it back in the meantime." With that, she left towards the bathroom. Stephen waited until he heard water running and the muffled sounds of music. Getting to his feet, he got his sling ring from the bedroom and created a portal.

The moment he was only halfway through, a red thing was wrapped around his face and upper chest, softly rippling against him. Snapping for air he couldn't get because his cloak was suffocating him, his hands shot up, trying to pull it down. "We talked about this!" Probably a thousand times. Cloak had the decency to move off his face. Only to wrap around tightly, not letting go.

By the time Christine came back, he had managed to close the portal, with cloak having wrapped around him instantly again. He felt as if wearing a straitjacket. Unable to move his arms. The second Christine entered the room, cloak flung away and brought a bit of distance between her and it. Stephen looked from Christine to the cloak, who was obviously unsure about how to react, and back to Christine. She simply stood there for a long moment. Staring at the cloak.

Slowly, Christine managed a timid smile. It didn't yet reach her eyes, but it was there.

"I wanted to... I mean... you didn't..." Stephen could see how she started to tremble. Yet, he knew she wanted to do this alone. That much was obvious. He shouldn't interfere. Just wait and watch. Christine closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, she opened her eyes again, looking at cloak. There was this calm determination in her eyes. Her stubbornness. Seeing it, Stephen knew she would be alright. Not today, not next week, not next month. Maybe not next year. But she would. One day she would. Sorting things out with cloak was the start of that. Of really getting better.

"I'm sorry. For what I said. That I made Stephen send you away. For kinda hating you. You didn't try to murder me."

Cloak floated on the spot, not moving. Neither to her, nor away. Was it too surprised to do anything? Seeing the two most important beings in his life stunned into silence, Stephen started to move.

"Cloak? Christine said a knife disappeared from the kitchen." It seemed to have bothered her. Best get that out of the way.

This time, cloak reacted. It tilted its collar and hurried into the kitchen, gesturing to the knives at the magnetic board. Christine joined them a moment later, seeing what cloak did.

"Yeah. One is missing." She said softly. Cloak hesitated, looking at her. Back at the knives. Then it started to open drawers, looking around in a frenzy. Around a minute later, it pulled a knife out of one of the drawers and raised it. If Stephen hadn't known what cloak was going for, he wouldn't be too sure that it didn't want to murder one of them. It would look like that, wouldn't it? Cloak floating in a shadowy corner, suddenly raising a knife to stab one of them.

"Is that knife missing?" He asked dryly, keeping a close eye on Christine. Would she freak out? She just stood there and... blushed. And took the knife from cloak. As if it would be normal to take knives off floating cloaks. As if she did that every day. She cleared her throat and thanked it, obviously embarrassed by what had happened.

Christine and cloak just stood there for a moment. Then she moved, letting the knife snap onto the magnetic board, adding it to the others again. She turned, facing the relic. "Let's start again, okay?" Raising her hand, she tried a smile. "Christine Palmer, nice to meet you. Cloak, I guess?" she asked, trying to get her voice light and friendly, but didn't manage completely. Stephen could hear the strain in her voice. The worry in her gaze. It would need time until she trusted it. But time they had, now that they had it. Hearing her greeting, cloak rippled softly and reached for her hand.

The moment the cloak touched her, Christine felt light. Not free of worries light. She felt actual light. Weightless. Looking at the ground, she realized she was floating. A few inches above the tiles of her kitchen. Looking at the cloak, she wanted to say something, but didn't. It was the cloak of levitation for god's sake. Of course, it could make her float. "Can you move me around? Higher, lower, faster?" The cloak seemed to huff, riffle annoyed and pulled her, yes, pulled her back into the living room. She floated in after it, feeling like an astronaut in space. She was floating! Carefully and gently, Christine noted, cloak wrapped around her. It felt as if she was wrapped in a warm, comfortable blanket, which smelled like Stephen. The smell alone helped her crazed nerves to calm down. She remained like that for a moment. Just floating in the cloaks… embrace? Did it expect her to say what she wanted it to do?

"Up?"

She said uncertainly, and the cloak did as she had asked. It floated her upwards until she was only inches below the ceiling. God. From that position, she could see how untidy the room was. No more hiding from the truth.

"Okay… ehm… down fast?"

Screaming at the top of her lungs, she stared at her carpet. A fucking inch away from her face. She had just dropped from the comfortable position at the ceiling straight to the ground. Basically. She had just never hit it. And then she burst into laughter. A bit crazy sounding laughter.

"Did you ever consider renting it as bungy cloak?"