Who: Stephen Strange and Christine Palmer What: Guess who's back? Back again? Strange is back. Tell a friend. When: Early Wednesday morning Where: Their apartment Warnings: Major Multiverse of Madness spoilers. Also gets mildly racy at the end but nothing little eyes couldn't read
When Stephen opened his eyes, his first thought was that that had been the longest, most complicated dream he’d ever had. And so incredibly vivid. Even dreams within his dream. And that thought was what made him begin to question the dream thing. How could he remember so many details while still coming out of the REM state? How would he have dreamt up an entire human being? And a child, at that.
Which meant it wasn’t a dream. Stephen had been sent back ‘home’, back to Greenwich Village and the original New York Sanctum. Back to a world where Wanda had been turned by the Darkhold, where he had cost hundreds of talented young sorcerers their lives. It was all true. The Illuminati, a Sanctum corrupted by an angry and bitter version of himself, and Christine… His Christine, not the one he’d spent the better part of two days with, was happily and peacefully married to another man.
Okay. Stephen Strange was nothing if not logical. Despite his emotions raging through him, he sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. He was in his room - not Christine’s, where he could almost remember falling asleep his last night in San Francisco - but his. Christine was here and (hopefully) still loved him entirely. Wanda was not a witch possessed with dark magic. America was back home under the watchful eye of Wong and the other Sorcerers. He’d read the Darkhold and he’d have to deal with the consequences of that, some of which would follow him here, he was sure.
Checklist complete, he needed to see her. It was one thing to logically know that she was down the hall, hopefully sleeping comfortably. It was another to admit that his heart was racing and his stomach churning at the thought that maybe she’d been sent back, too. And possibly not returned. Or had returned but as a married woman.
Quietly, so not to wake Emily, he made his way to Christine’s room, slipping inside. For a moment, he simply stood and watched her sleep. Then he made his way to the bed, slipping under the covers to her side, nestling close enough to feel her presence but not so close she’d feel crowded as she woke.
Christine was beginning to lose track of mere hours since Stephen had left. She had still been adjusting to Elizabeth leaving, the news that their daughter had shared with them always sitting fresh on her mind. To say it was a lot was an understatement. Christine could handle stressful situations. Tense and emotionally-driven interactions were a specialty of hers when it came to handling patients back at the hospital.
These situations, though? They hit differently. Shutting down completely was not an option. There was a shop to run, after all. A ward who needed a fill-in guardian. Employees that needed to be paid. She didn’t want to compartmentalize just yet, but it was the next step. Even if there was the hope that he’d return sooner rather than later. She hadn’t reached a deep level of sleep just yet when Christine felt the added weight settle beside her. Too much to be Ella, possibly Emma?
He’d almost had a pillow thrown at him. Instead, when she realized who it was, Christine turned, twisting in now the tangled sheet and blanket, and wrapped herself around him. Pulling herself close, face buried in his chest and one leg hooking almost possessively around one of his, Christine held onto Stephen.
“You ass,” she huffed into him, though there was no anger in her tone. Just pure and genuine relief.
Yes. That was his Christine. And as much as he wanted to mock her, he couldn't. Not after the last time he'd looked her in the eye and was informed why he was just…not a great romantic partner.
Stephen chuckled slightly, a low sound only she would hear. "I missed you, too." And he had, even though she wouldn't understand how or why. All that mattered was she was in his arms. She wasn't blowing him off, wasn't asking him to leave. She had come to him, and he couldn't even find words for what it meant to him.
"God, I love you," he murmured against her hair, slightly tangled from sleep. He kissed the top of her head where it rested against him. "Christine… I'm sorry. I don't think I ever said it when we got here. I'm just…really sorry. You deserved so much better."
“Stephen,” she sighed, loosening her near-vice grip and looked up at him. “I know you are and…I’ve told you it’s fine. I got it then and I still understand. You went where you were needed. What was I going to do? Tell you no?” Christine shook her head with a grin. “I’ve never seen anyone successfully tell you that and you listen. And that’s okay.”
Still, apologies didn’t tend to come out of thin air like that, and that was a concern.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She wasn’t entirely sure what “it” was outside of things he had experienced when he left. Then again, Christine wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Had something happened to her?
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she added quietly - quickly - pushing a small smile.
"You should have seen me at Kamar Taj, then." There was still so much rebuilding to do that it almost hurt to think about the sacred grounds. "I got told no constantly. Once in a while, I even listened." But only once in a while.
He looked down at her, barely visible in the pre-dawn light. She was so understanding. So patient. How many times would he push her away? Even now he was tempted to tell her it was fine and to get more sleep. Sharing any part of himself was so rare for him. But if anyone deserved to hear it, it was her.
"It's been a rough few months," he admitted quietly. "There's a chunk of my memory that - shit, that was Peter." It was coming back to him. And painfully so. His Station memories were crossing with his home memories. It nearly sent him reeling but he could remember a vague image of a teenaged boy begging to get his life back. "That's weird. And there's this girl, this kid really, who can travel willingly through the Multiverse. Me and another version of…well, you, we've been fighting to save her life."
Maybe he should keep the Wanda bit to himself. Logically he knew what had happened to her wasn't entirely her fault. That didn't mean he didn't worry. "I lost a friend that day, too."
“Well, if Cloak is any indication of the people who are at Kamar Taj, good. I’m glad they’re keeping you in line.” Someone had to, though it was obvious that Stephen was getting better at listening, and Christine appreciated it dearly. Her smile softened and quietly chuckled.
Taking his face in her hands at the mention of Peter, clearly in pain or distress at the mention of the ordeal, the smile faded immediately. “It’s alright. Just take a minute, okay? I’m right here.” Relieved when he seemed to calm and regain himself, Christine exhaled the breath she’d been holding.
“I’m so sorry about your friend, Stephen,” she offered, first, tilting her head to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It wouldn’t bring them back, but if she could offer just a small bit of comfort, that was good enough for her.
There was a moment of silence, to give a moment of quiet respect, before Christine continued.
“Now, do you want to take a step back and tell me about this other version of me who is apparently running around with you saving kids?”
"I hope you get to meet Wong someday. I'm not overly fond of losing out on Sorcerer Supreme, but it couldn't have been passed on to anyone better." Wong would adore her. Mostly because she also didn't take any of Stephen's shit.
It was so odd. He knew it had happened to others. And he was just grateful to be back here. Everyone had asked him if he was happy. Here? He was. The love of his life was also his business partner and they were doing fairly well for a startup company. He had kids who depended on him, he had the Sanctum, even if it wasn't in its full glory. He didn't hate his life at home, but things were so much better here.
But the two sets of memories, things he remembered but was supposed to have forgotten? That was weird. Also that this was technically the third Christine he'd interacted with in 48 hours.
"She's just as incredible as any Christine Palmer would be. Brilliant scientist, helped with the building of a facility meant to study the multiverse. She… Well. Her Stephen is gone. She got America to safety when I couldn't be there, and then she protected me while I protected the kid. It was…a lot." But she wasn't the one in his arms right now. His eyes closed and he dipped his head to rest against hers. "Every universe, Christine. Every universe I've seen, there's one of me and one of you. And every single one, he loses you somehow."
And it scared him to death, and his hold on her tightened just a hair.
She wasn’t sure what to say at first, so Christine held him just the same as he did her. Sometimes it was what a person needed, to feel the other one there. She could feel his heart beat and listening to his breathing.
“So, nothing will ever change is what you’re saying.”
Her voice was quiet and muffled, her face buried against him, trying so hard not to cry. Christine was just so tired of people losing everyone and everything they loved. It seemed no matter where they came from or what they had to go back home to, it was some level of death or loss.
She pulled away, untangling herself, only so she could sit up and look at him. Christine shook her head, having to laugh at the irony, and raked a hand back through her hair. Frustration was far from how she was feeling. She knew Stephen had to be feeling the same, had to have the same concerns and worries. Her anger and resentment would never be directed to him. This, this new place, wasn’t his fault. Nothing was his fault, really.
“Thanos could still come and do his snap thing like he did where you’re from and absolutely nothing would change. You…you gave your life all those times and – what’s it even for?”
Despite her frustrated rant, he smiled up at her. She was beautiful when she was angry, she was even beautiful when she was sad. Which is something he never wanted for her, but he knew he couldn't make any promises.
Rolling to his side, he lifted himself up on one elbow. "It's for an awful lot, Christine. I died all of those times but it kept our world from…immeasurable darkness. It kept us all from becoming enslaved by a dark and powerful legend. And I would do it a hundred more times if that's what I had to do."
Stephen pulled himself into a sitting position, reaching out to lightly touch her cheek. A position that was far too reminiscent these days. It usually meant bad things for them. Maybe it was time to change that.
"If Thanos invades this world, I don't know how to stop him. I don't have the Time Stone that let me see how to defeat him. We only had one chance, one call we could make, and I did it because we had to. I got Blipped so that one day, years later, all of us would come back to a world he couldn't have." The guilt of those they'd lost, of Vision and Natasha, and Tony who had realized what he had to do, still weighed on him daily. And Christine? She would move on in that time. And he really was happy for her.
His heart just broke for himself.
"It's alright, you know? You. You're going to be fine there. You go on with your life. We talk once in a while but…" But he'd told himself it couldn't be. Here she'd broken through those walls he'd sheltered himself with for years, but what happened if he tried to build them again? Would he? Could he, even, after all they'd been through? "I even went to your wedding," he told her with a slightly sheepish look that hopefully hid the pain in his eyes. "You'll get to live the life you deserve."
It still wasn’t fair.Christine understood, though. Making difficult decisions and calls? She’d done that plenty in the hospital. It really was the difference between life and death.
“What if it’s not the life I want?” No. That wasn’t fair of her to throw at him. Not after everything he had sacrificed along with the rest of the Avengers. Everyone had lost people they loved. Some came back. Others didn’t. Getting any life was fortunate.
“You know, Stephen, when you left and ended up in Nepal, I thought that was it. We were done. For so long we tried to be something and sometimes it would work and sometimes it wouldn’t. I loved you, though. So, when you came back with this new…everything? I don’t know. I never wanted to change you. I just wanted you to understand that it didn’t always have to be you and I saw it. I hated having to walk away from that night. I knew I’d either never see you again or…”
Christine sighed, waving a hand in the air. “And knowing there are all these events that are going to happen for me if I go home…” She held her head in her hands. It really was a lot. No wonder Stephen had been having a hard time. He’d just lived it. Christine didn’t want to being to imagine how hew as holding it together.
“I lose you back home. I lose you if we stay here…what is the universe trying to tell us?” She laughed and shook her head, holding up a hand. “Nevermind. Don’t answer that question.”
"I can't promise you won't lose me here, Christine," he said softly, so low she would barely here. "But I'm going to do everything I can to make that not happen. Liz told us. We know when it happens, we prevent it. I've got backup, I know to be more careful. My goal is to always come home to you. This you, do you get me? I don't care about every other universe right now, I care about us, here and now."
"We tried to be something. But it wouldn't work. I…I always had to be the one holding the knife, apparently." Two Christines had told him that, now, and as hard as it had been to hear…they were right. So often, he was selfish. Self-centered, egotistical. He'd been working to change that and he knew he still wasn't perfect but this woman meant the entire world to him and he'd do what he could.
"It's different here. We both know it. And I want it to matter, I want us to make it this time and we can, we have to work at it, maybe that's been the problem. We kept missing each other, I wasn't willing to put the work in. But…" He was rambling now, words coming out that he wasn't even in control of. The image of Christine, appearing in the doorway of the hotel in her gown, her beaming smile pointed to another man, still lingered in his head. And he truly didn't think, after the last few days, he could handle losing her again.
"Marry me." Stephen's voice was barely a whisper as the idea came to him. He'd been thinking of it for a while before he'd been sent home, Lizzie's appearance only cementing the fact that the two of them belonged together. If every single other Stephen got screwed, maybe he deserved to be the one who didn't. "I love you, every one of me will always love every one of you. And I'm not missing my chance again. Marry me, Christine."
He was right in that neither of them could make any promises that the other would always be there. Whether it was from events here or being sent home, nothing could be set in stone. How peopled lived their life like this was beyond Christine.
“What?”
That had been her first response to the quieter request. Had she heard him correctly? Had he just…?
The entire notion of living a life wondering if the other would be there when they woke up day after day…she could do that. Of course, she could. Their daughter was more than enough proof of that. That they had made everything work probably in the most jumbled and chaotic way possible. Which meant it was perfect and Christine wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Okay.”
It wasn’t the traditional ‘yes’ complete with elated but they were far from traditional.
It made her smile, though. Reaching for him, Christine moved and settled herself into his lap. “I’ll marry you.”
For a long moment, he held his breath. Stephen knew her well enough to know that her 'what' wasn't her not hearing him. It was her processing his words. Letting his proposal sink in. And he was ready to be okay with a no. They'd tried so many times to make all of this work and it just hadn't. And maybe it was both of their faults, maybe it was neither, and he could admit that maybe it was completely his. But he truly believed this was their chance. And he was going to work for it. Maybe not today, he was a big boy, he could handle rejection. It wouldn't be the last time he asked.
But then she said okay. Not the giddy yes, but it wasn't a no. And Stephen wasn't sure if he'd ever felt more elated. Not even after his first major surgery.
And then he had a lap full of Christine and he beamed. A display of emotion he rarely showed played on his face as he kissed her firmly. While she was distracted by the kiss, he waved his hand. Though she didn't see it, she would have felt the cool touch of gold on her finger, a bright and clear gem shining in the middle.
When he pulled back, his expression was almost shy.
Almost. He was still Dr. Stephen Strange.
"If you hate it, find one you like and we'll make that. Or we can go get you an actual physical one, if you'd rather. Whatever makes you happy." And he meant that completely.
What her response lacked in excitement, her kiss made up for in enthusiasm. When Stephen pulled away, Christine glanced down at her hand with a smile. That bright and ecstatic look that brides-to-be wore. Turning back to him, she shook her head at the suggestion of getting a different one.
“It’s perfect.” It was better than any physical ring she could find. A magical item created by him? No physical ring could hold a candle to it. “And I don’t think I could be happier. Except for one thing…”
Pulling her teeshirt - Stephen’s teeshirt that she continuously borrowed - off, Christine wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. “You owe me an inventory shift.”
If his eyes were shining a bit, that was just because of the exhaustion of the last couple of days and the fact that he'd been comfortably asleep when he'd gotten here. It had nothing to do with the wave of emotions crashing through him. Christine - the other Christine - had told him that he needed to let people in. He knew she meant in the best of ways but it was still somewhat terrifying. Especially now, here, knowing how easily one of them could be taken. Or they could lose Emily or those people Stephen almost sort of considered friends. And it was hard and it was a feeling built on anxiety.
But he loved this woman and he loved the feel of her skin against his and he loved that cool feeling of a gold band around her finger against him.
"For being gone what, a day or two? You're the worst fiancée, I swear." But he kissed her firmly in return and shifted to lie her back down against the pillows. Soon they'd have to get up, let others know he'd returned. He'd have to eventually face Wanda and he knew that. They'd have to open the shop and continue with their day.