Til Theós, Met Love

"What is-," Y/N swallowed. She stopped, shaking with horror when she caught a glimpse of Wanda's face, her mouth slightly agape.

"Get out," he said through his clenched teeth. Half-desperately he looked at Stephen before glaring back at Y/N. The fool girl was going to lay waste to all their efforts.

Y/N took a step back when Wanda's eyelids fluttered. Her face was strange and inhuman. And something looked at her out of those eyes. She shivered horribly before dashing out of the room. 

"If I were you I wouldn't allow anyone in a ten-mile radius of her...," Loki trailed off examining their surroundings vaguely. He poked his brother with his foot but Thor lay motionlessly. The chaos was gone but none of them was going to wake up in the next two hours at least.

Stephen sat in silence. With all the darkholds destroyed across the multiverse, he hadn't considered any scarlet witch powerful enough to dreamwalk again. "She might try again," he whispered, stirring up the reverie of the thoughts he had gone through all the while trying to break the spell. 

"And about the thing earlier," Loki slumped next to him on the floor, tired from all the effort, "That seems utterly impossible." Before the dream walking incident, Stephen had desperately tried to reach him, looking for any sort of explanation for Y/N's presence not messing up their reality.

Stephen shook his head. "The variance energy is not nil, but the curve is steady, below the danger line and the detection line." He had checked it across three different devices. Even Tony was surprised when the machine gave the same result after rewiring it. They had been on a call with Loki when Wanda had gone rogue. 

"Nothing makes sense unless she somehow managed to shift the nexus point from Wanda to herself," Loki said with irritation. 

Stephen opened his mouth but catching a glimpse of Y/N across the still-open portal, he scrambled to his feet. "You're right. Nobody should be allowed around Y/N. I'll try getting to the others tomorrow," he said and abruptly left.

"Could you send me back," she swallowed the lump in her throat, "to where I came from?"

"Why," he almost cried out. He couldn't understand what he had done wrong now. 

"That," her lips trembled as her fingers pointed to where the portal had been seconds ago, "was because of me, wasn't it?"

He shook his head. Dropping to his knees, he reached out slowly, holding her shoulders, "It wasn't because of you."

Y/N tried to hold herself steady and looked down at Stephen - the very face that had been left untouched by time except for a few lines now seemed battered with confusion, fear, tiredness and uncertainty. Being away was going to be undoubtedly difficult but having recalled every damned memory of her actions over years - she flinched. The pain was better than grief. "I have caused you enough trouble Stephen, this has to end. I should leave before you end up in a grave."

He wanted to shake her to her right mind. Women were unreasonable. He knew that from experience but he had expected her to be different. Very different, like she had been in every aspect. "This is the only way," she whispered again.

"You have no idea who is hunting you down. If anyone is at risk of being in the grave, it's you. If you want to be helpful to me, get up and assist me with the protection spells around the island. The danger is far worse than I had imagined. We need to prepare-"

She cut him off with a shake of her head. She could see he had no intention of leaving her even if he had to lose everything in exchange. She could think of only one way to make him do it, hurt him badly even though she could feel her consciousness protesting at the thought of the vile idea.

"Why do you keep doing this Stephen?" she yelled at him. "Hell-bent on saving me while all you achieve is screwing up even more." She clenched her jaw at his stiff expression. Tears threatened to spill but she continued, "Why is it that you want me alive at all cost? I have lost people more than anyone could... I want this pain to end. But you want me to rot in it every day for your sake," she dared to look into his eyes that were shimmering like never before, "Is it because somewhere out there in the universe something chose for you to grieve over me when I'm gone?"

Stephen froze, looking at his reflection in her eyes, he felt almost forty years back in time - the person was different, and the circumstances had been opposite but the crux of the situation had been the same. "No," he whispered carefully, moved by the memories of Christine. He calmly searched for the right word this time, "No, it's because you're something more than everything I could ever feel," he rasped, "I keep doing this because I have been so alone... I know it's your fear speaking rather than pain. Loneliness does that to a person. Watching loved ones die does that," he inched closer to the bed, closer towards her, "You're scared just like I used to be until I met Charles that night - the regret, the longing is much worse than the fear or the pain."

She had leaned closer, twisted in agony as his words sunk deep into her soul, wondering whether to push him away or pull in closer. Something more than everything. The way he had put it she found her determination wavering. He was overwhelming her logic and common sense. "Stephen," she said softly, "you have seen what I had done. Those innocent people were killed because I was mad for you-"

"I have taken lives as well. In the name of order and chaos, I had staked innocent witches. I'm no better than you." He leaned in brushing his lips against hers.

"I remember other things as well," her hushed voice continued, "although grateful for her presence, I hated her for not being you. It was irrational... I might have taken a sharper turn than usual on that rainy road... killing them... I'm despicable..."

"Shh...," he whispered, pressing his lips softly against hers, "I treated someone badly as well. I almost treated everyone badly." He, pain struck, removed his gaze from her face and placed his hand in hers. They had healed but the scars remained. The watch, strapped to his wrist, still burned through his skin. They had been like ghosts. Staying back with him, haunting him of what he had done. "Had I apologised to her that night," his stomach clenched, "maybe she would have stayed back and wouldn't have died." And he could never give her the apology she deserved. "I was wretched enough that no one even bothered to let me know about her funeral." He looked at her, cupping her cheeks, and felt warm tears slide through his fingers, "You're nothing more unworthy than I am."

Stephen looked at her with hazy eyes, and Y/N shivered. Glancing around at the empty fireplace, he frowned, and kissed her softly on the forehead, "I'll get the fire going."

However, her arms held him in place as she kissed him on the lips. He leaned in and kissed her again, slowly and softly, feeling years of pain dissolve into a passion.

"Let me work on the spells at least," he said leaning back, "won't take much longer."

"You look exhausted," Y/N brought her hand to his face and touched his cheek, "tell me which ones to cast." He closed his eyes and parted his lips, savouring the brush of her fingers against the skin.

It was close to dawn by the time they were done with the spells. The sun wasn't up yet but the dark sky was beginning to light with the slight hue of morning purple. He exhaled putting his arms around her shoulder as they slumped on the bed in front of the fireplace.

"So she has the remaining three pieces of the resurrection stone?" Y/N asked wearily, basking in the warmth of the fire and his touch.

"I think so. Even if she hasn't, " he sighed, "it won't take her much longer. We have very little time. A fight would be inevitable."

"How long?"

"Less than a week at maximum."

She blinked, stirred in his embrace, and looked directly at him. "And at a minimum?"

When he spoke, his voice was just above a whisper, "A day. Without the darkhold, she would have spent a tremendous amount of energy to dreamwalk. She'll need some time to travel here."

"What if... I give it up?"

"The fragment of the stone is embedded deep within your soul. There is no sucking out the powers without taking your life with it."

There was a long silence before she suggested, "How about others-"

"No-," Stephen said quickly. He had yet to tell her about The Council and The Order. "They would make sure to cut your head first before facing the scarlet witch. The Order has been in the dark about your presence. If they get to know about the chaos you wield, we would have double trouble." This fight was theirs, alone theirs. 

Y/N was less gentle when she pulled him closer and kissed him. Her fingers tugged and twined with his hair as their mouths continued to press together.

Stephen was careful all the while trying to respond to her fevered pace. Her tongue moved tantalisingly across his lower lip before sucking it between hers. She was tempting and teasing when he opened his mouth, letting her explore.

He gasped and groaned, his hands sliding around her waist, when she straddled his lap and kissed him harder. It felt intensely surreal as she pulled back, holding his face in her hands, brushing her lips against his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his cheek and his neck.

He could hardly string his thoughts as she pushed him back onto the bed and silently undid his robe. He watched her smile softly when her hands slid inside, touching him gently, exploring the uncharted territory. 

She was hot and breathless, staring at the contours of sinew, muscle and veins. He would look breathtaking even to a casual observer. 

"Like what you see?" he asked, rising, capturing her lips with a searing kiss before she could answer. 

Y/N was flushed like a fruit when his warm, wet kisses trailed down the length of her neck. In one fluid motion, she was on her back and he was kneeling between her legs.

"I could hurt you," he worried, looking at her tempting, fragile form heaving tauntingly under him.

"I don't mind. I want to feel you. Please."

Patiently, she pushed up one arm, pleading with her eyes as her fingers explored his exposed skin once again. 

"Y/N," he groaned. And caught her wrist carefully. Bringing to his lips, he kissed each fingertip before sucking it sensuously between the lips. Despite his worries, he couldn't deny her. 

She swallowed hard at the feel of his tongue swirling around her tips. She had often read in novels the sensual act of sucking the fingers but hadn't found it erotic at all. Nonetheless, seeing him... left her sensationally aroused. It felt like she would climb ecstasy from this act alone.

"Thank you," she murmured against his lips as he kissed her tenderly. He gripped her hips and pressed himself against her wondering if she would enjoy the contact as much as he did.

She moaned and began to push herself towards him.

Now that he felt her, it was hard not to lose control. He had wanted to take her dress off, slowly and teasingly but her moan had provoked him to such an extent, he tore the fabric at once. His lips left soft kisses along her neck while his hands moved over the smooth hot skin of her breasts, down her belly, past her navel and up again to cup her breasts, kneading them gently. 

She shivered and made little noises, and he raised his head to look down at her. Her eyes were closed, lips rolled in, colour and heat blooming under her skin as he brushed his thumb over her nipple.

Her eyelids fluttered, at the movement of being reclined, peeking over at him shyly. He hovered over her, shifting her gently over the pillows, a pleased look on his face. "You are breathtaking," he whispered, lowering himself until his mouth reached her breast and closed over it. She grasped and clutched his shoulders as he continued to lick and suckle while kneading the other.

Y/N threw her head back, trying to suppress her cries, as her back arched off the bed.

"God," she whimpered, feeling light-headed.

"I have just begun and you are already begging for divine intervention?" His voice was dark with desire. He moved over her, one leg between her and the other on the side, lowering himself on one elbow at her side until their skins were pressed together.

She stared at him, doe-eyed, breathing heavily as his fingers wreaked havoc wherever they touched.

His eyes were dark and cautious while his fingers gilded further down her quivering abdomen, dipping between her thighs to find the soft, hot flesh already throbbing for his touch.

Stephen touched her lightly at first, however, he stoked her in a steady, quickening rhythm when her hips began to tremble and her fingers clawed his chest. 

She whimpered and shook as the boisterous waves of pleasure engulfed her. 

"It should be a crime to have such gifted fingers and that mouth," Y/N teased after regaining some of her senses. He chucked and dipped his head to nuzzle her neck.

He smiled at the feel of her fingers fumbling with the belts of his trousers. "Stephen," she grumbled when they refused to cooperate. 

He grinned, but got out of bed, getting rid of it. When he was naked, he grinned, taking a step backwards, letting her admire him in full glory.

Y/N felt heat rushing to her core as her eyes wandered over his naked form, the firelight setting his body aglow, "You are gorgeous." She licked her lips, noticing the V extending from the hips. He was a modern, finer version of Adonis with unspeakably beautiful hands. "I need you." 

He ghosted over her, worshipping her body with his mouth, with lips and a gentle nibble of teeth now and then. She tensed when he nibbled at the soft flesh of her thighs, nuzzling them open. 

"What is it, sweetheart?" His eyes darted up to meet hers.

"No one has ever....," she trailed off, flushed with embarrassment.

"Not even your girlfriend?"

Y/N shook her head. "We never... I was a virgin."

"You are technically still one now," he said grinning wickedly. Of course, she had saved herself for him. "Open your legs for me, love, I won't bite." 

Though cautious, she obeyed. She watched as he smiled and kissed her and teased her with his tongue before sucking the flesh into his mouth.

She was already writhing in the sheets when he tested her with one finger. Her hands curled against his hair, the knuckles almost white. He groaned, stretching her with another finger, and gripped her hips carefully with his free hand, trying to hold her still.

In hardly a minute or two, she was shaking violently as her cries filled the room. He removed the suction but continued pumping into her until she tried to close her legs. 

He brought his mouth up to hers and gave a tentative kiss. Every inch of her was so sensitive, her body jumped at the slightest touch.

Stephen withdrew himself from her and went to the fireplace. Adding a couple of logs to the dying embers, he poked the burning wood around making sure the new wood could catch it easily. 

The flame began to speak again and he turned towards the glass doors. The sun was starting to rise. And he could hear the animals in the forest rousing with a rumble. He continued staring at the morning blue sky.

"Stephen."

He closed one of the curtains before returning to her. "Aren't you all spent?" He asked, snuggling against her.

"Not yet," she chuckled, grasping his hips, and urging him closer.

He smiled patiently and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her to lay on top of him. She squealed in surprise. He chucked and adjusted her until she was straddling him in the right way. 

"Are you tired?" Y/N teased, smothering his chiselled torso with kisses.

"Not in the least. Take what you need, sweetest."

A look of confusion crossed her face, "This way?"

Stephen nodded. "Is something wrong?"

"I always imagined it with you on the top..."

"I wouldn't deny I like being on top, in control but you are very small, baby, very delicate. Besides, I'm still worried if I might lose myself-," he shuddered at the idea, "You should be in control of the movements so I don't hurt you."

"But it's not a good idea to put me in control when I'm not sure of what I'm doing," she looked away, "and you told me to take what I wanted - this isn't how I want it." 

He realised at the moment how stressful she was - sitting above him naked and exposed, burdened with the responsibility of what was to happen.

"It's okay," he murmured, kissing her cheek and in one swift movement switched their positions. 

"Careful," he warned, as she lifted her hips, to further lure him. "It might hurt a little at first."

"It's okay," Y/N whispered, reclining on the pillows.

"But I want you to let me know whenever it gets uncomfortable." She nodded. "Choose your safe word."

"Stop?"

"Good girl." Y/N flushed immediately at the praise. Laughing softly, Stephen adjusted her thighs around his hips. "You like that, baby girl?" He leaned over, distributing his weight over his knees and elbows, and peppered her face with kisses.

He watched her jaw clench, her nails digging into his shoulders when he slowly buried himself in her. "Y/N? Sweetheart?" She wasn't crying, nevertheless, he was worried. He brought one hand down to her hips, ensuring no movement as he continued cooing sweet nothings into her ear.

It wasn't uncomfortable but it wasn't completely comfortable either. However, his voice, his breath, and the intense feeling of him had gotten her through the worst of the pain. 

"You can move," she whispered to his lips.

He moved agonisingly slowly until she couldn't take it anymore and moved unsteadily. He held her down, moving gradually faster.

Y/N watched him - in the firelight, he looked marvellously beautiful. The light highlighted his contours at the perfect angle. And with every thrust, she felt him burying deeper, felt this strength, his gentleness, his eagerness, his worries, his muscles and his soul. She smiled considering herself blessed for everything she had found at once.

Her smile was like the rising sun. And contagious, he thought, smiling, enjoying the intense unparalleled fulfilment. He watched with sheer amazement, delight, and desire as her breaths became erratic and her body glowed with the blue energy. The beads of sweat covering her smooth skin glistened - caught between the dying embers and searing blue. Her fingers dug into his arms, as her body shook with the building pleasure.

And as she screamed his name, he felt her powers seeping sharply through his nerves, capturing him in an ecstasy he had never felt before. He trembled and collapsed on her side, still careful to avoid crushing her.

She gave out a weary whine when she had helplessly reached out for him and found him gone. She whimpered as something damp and soft pressed in between her legs.

"Sorry," Stephen muttered, cleaning the sensitive skin. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it's just I'm tired..."

"Want me to draw a bath?"

Y/N shook her head and tugged at his arms. He smiled at her impatience, and returned to her side, spooning her in the arms.

"Stephen," she murmured, turning and twisting in his arms, to face. He hummed and continued drawing intricate patterns on her smooth, damp skin.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, nuzzling his chest.

He sighed and opened his eyes. The wee hours of the morning were gone, and the light rays stretched themselves across the floorboards. The fire had died out a long time ago but she still felt feverish curled up against him. What he wouldn't give to make this moment last forever...

"The impending doom," he whispered.

"I wish we could run away somewhere. Even for another day or two," she pressed her cheek to his chest, "And then face her, better prepared."

Startled, Stephen kept looking at her; the idea had sounded impertinent a thought ago, but was wonderful, and could buy them the much-needed time. 

He gave a peck on her forehead, in praise, before grabbing his phone from the nightstand.

"This better be good," Tony groaned, answering the call at once.

"We are leaving."

"So early?" He muttered, "Okay, I'll need-"

"No, you are getting it wrong."

It took Tony a few breaths to realise what he meant. The last night had really knocked his brains out. "Okay," he said slowly, "but where are you-"

"I don't know. And that's the whole purpose of it. To buy us some time." He then quickly gave him a list of few things they might need.

As soon as he was done with the call, her lips caught him in a lazy kiss. 

When she pulled back, her eyes met his blazing gaze. His grip automatically tightened around her. All of him assured her despite the imminent duel, they would steal a day, a week or perhaps a month of togetherness. 

It cracked. Shaking violently, soon making her realise so was the water around her. She kicked wildly, trying to propel herself deeper, but merely pushed herself farther from Stephen.

He frantically moved about when he had the little hands no longer in his. His vision blurred and blurred by every minute, and his lungs burned. He was inside for more than usual his kind could take. Maybe he could take one breath and then search for her.

Stephen tried to push himself towards the surface but he was going down and down with every passing minute. Somewhere, something was glowing. He couldn't see any clearer, and darkness was closing by...

He could feel he was outside the current now. It was dry, grainy and too bright to see. He lay there idly, wondering if this was what the afterlife felt like. Then he had second thoughts

upon hearing someone violently coughing and retching.

Before Y/N could rejoice to see him awake, he clutched his stomach, his body set on the same course of action as hers.

"I told you not to come," he said, hunkering motionlessly on his hands and knees.

She wanted to punch his face but instead grasped him in an awkward hug. "A thank you would have sounded better."

They slogged, arms locked, along the sandy beach with the backdrop of the sunset. Stephen suddenly said, "I was hallucinating..."

"Very genius of you to notice that," she huffed, still clutching her stomach that flipped and flopped like a fish out of water.

"Thanks..."

She whined when he scooped her up in his arms. If he was going to run along an invisible trail, she definitely would throw up again.

"How did you manage to get us home?" He asked, continuing at a human pace.

Her mind was occluded to get a clear assessment of their situation. His question didn't make any sense. "I remember just pulling us to the surface, nothing else."

She had passed out by the time he made it to the house. It was a tiny house on a tiny island.

Wrapped around vegetation on three sides and the beach on the other, it was where he liked spending most of the time when not preoccupied with anything serious.

Placing her on the bed, he opened the glass doors overlooking the sea, airing out the room.

It was too warm and stuffy for his liking. Thinking she might love to wake up to the dazzling glow of the sun, he left the billowing curtains open.

The visions he had were for sure not in the exact order of occurence as he had been seen. Few things must have been common to the three of them.

"Y/N, what are you thinking?" His fingers were rubbing slow circles hoping it might calm down her anxiety.

"Do what you need to do Stephen if it is a must to have my mind shattered."

"Love," he cooed, tugging her closer. The distant sun rays from the rising sun shimmered in her glistened eyes. "I am not saying that you are purposefully keeping things from me. If there are memories from... or let's put it this way- this fourth version of you... you had

encountered her and something had happened, all of which could be related to the person trying to attack you, and they managed to bury your memories to prevent things from going

worse.."

By this time he wasn't sure what he was explaining to her or expecting from her. The only thing he was sure about was that the Y/N in his last vision was most probably of his universe, and if he didn't save her then who did? What he could never know is how come Charles saw three Y/Ns when he is sure there are four.

"So if she saved me with her powers... what difference would be knowing for sure make?"

"It would be easy to pinpoint what the stone was and who could want to have them back."

With every sunrise, a beautiful day would unfold. To Y/N it felt like this day, this moment was going to steal everything. Instead of opening new gates, it was trying to close the one she

was trying hard to keep open. What would the truth do to her? To him? To them? What if something awful had happened? What if the memories were suppressed for good? The miseries seemed like the endless sea in front of her, never-ending, somewhere getting lost on the southern side.

With a shaky breath. She leaned on the wall on the side. Never had she been so needy of support.

Support.

She always had support.

No matter what had happened.

She had Charles when she had lost Jane.

She had Mathew after she lost Charles.

She had Stephen when she had said goodbye to Mathew.

Who was going to be for her if she lost Stephen after the truth had made it to the surface?

She knew she was losing him. The waters had shown. That awful vision of him walking away from her. She couldn't- Putting it away wasn't going to make it easy. If this was the end, let it

end quickly. Better to have a bullet in the heart than a knife.

"Do it," Y/N said with her newfound determination.

Stephen was lost in his meditation when the words shook him up. He had been feeling guilty after telling her everything he saw, for pushing her so hard for the truth. Giving her some

time while clearing his mind out had seemed a good idea.

"I have been through worse. I guess I'll survive whatever I have to lose."

Stephen hooked his finger under her chin, demanding she looks at him. And she did. Turned to face him. The reality. He sat there calm and confident, just like the rising sun beyond the wall behind him. "You won't lose anything. Trust me, we won't change."

She nodded and he took her hand in his. "Come, you might like to lie down for this, it's going to be rough."

Y/N shuddered violently. Stephen dug his fingers deeper into her temples. He concentrated his willpower as his magic flowed through hers.

The sky roared and the animals wailed.

And her shaking ceased. Their powers had finally channelised in a harmonious rhythm.

'Open your eyes.'

She did and found herself lying in the sea. A sea of grass, an endless plateau stretching as far as the horizon. Y/N rose, walking around she realised the place felt oddly familiar. And soon she found herself sprinting through the field as she had always done this way.

A few more metres there would be a house, wouldn't it?

She froze, in horror, when the dark building came into view. It is it.

'Go on, I'm with you. Let's go in.'

She could hear him but could spot him. Why can't I see you, she thought.

'I suppose I wasn't there with you when this was happening.'

I don't want to go in.

'Come on, I'm with you this time.'

She mechanically opened the door and ran straight into the first room at right.

"Mom, what are these?" She had picked up a few pages lying on the table. They seemed to be some sort of translational work for the pictures displayed on the laptop screen.

"Don't touch anything," a voice came from some corner of the house, "dad's been trying to help in translating some texts."

"Is uncle back in Egypt, digging tombs?"

"No, I guess it is from some ruins near Belgium..."

Stephen knew from the picture what horror was being translated. He knew what the ruins could be that spelt these damned words.

'Don't read them.'

I have to.

'Why?'

Y/N picked up the pages and went to her room. She sat there in her armchair, looking over a mirror, and toyed with her favourite comics. She might have been eleven years old.

It has to be this way. I read about you every day, every time from the comics. I shall read the comic, then these pages. There is no other way. Only this.

The sky suddenly grew dark and the autumn leaves turned grey. And Y/N watched as indistinct, hazy figures moved around the fields.

'What's happening?'

I have no idea if it was the beginning of which volume or if it was the ending, all I remember is that you had stolen my affections without my knowledge. And when I realised, I was in the middle, completely smitten to be sensible.

'Did you just read those pages of the Darkhold wishing that I was no longer a fictional character in your life?'

I guess so.

'Y/N this isn't love, this is madness.'

Oh, are they different? I always thought they were one and the same.

'What happened next?'

The reviving spell, I think, revived the dead. Then after two years or so they were dead again. They were quite a version of zombies.

Y/N turned and walked out of the room, into a lightly furnished cabin. It was as if the doorway had teleported her to a different place and a different time. She whipped her face with her bloodied sleeve. Blood trickled down her face as she limped to the kitchen island.

'You're bleeding. You need to go to the hospital.' 

I know. You bleed this way when you come back alive from death. 

For some time neither of them thought or spoke anything. Y/N just collapsed on the floor as her tears mixed with blood. She had laid there for days, she thought, without food, without water, without aid, as their bodies would have been rotting deep in the river. 

'What happened Y/N,' Stephen whispered softly. 

When her lips parted to answer, all that came out were cries of agony. 

I lost them. 

'Who are them?' 

My girlfriend and our baby. 

She had been with me when I wanted you badly Stephen. When the horror I must have started ended, we had lost more than half of the life on our planet. She was with me when my parents weren't. She was there when I had lost all hope of ever falling in love with 

someone. 

She wanted a baby, so I drove her to the orphanage. We were returning with the child when I lost control. We plummeted down the dill into the river. I came out, they didn't. They would never. 

'How did you make it alive?' 

I wouldn't have if it weren't for the shard of stone, given to me a few weeks earlier.

'What did you do then?'

Threw back myself into old habits. Until one day it was too, too worthless to live. I tried something with the powers the stone had bestowed upon me. I don't remember exactly what happened. 

I just woke up next to a car crash site. I didn't know who I was or where I was. I just remember Matthew. He had told me that Charles was coming soon and I think I helped him bury the body of the girl I thought was my twin sister. The events of my actual life were forgotten and I played along with what he and Charles did. 

That's all I can remember Stephen.

Y/N felt she had fallen back to her body when she shot up with a jolt. The gushing back of memories had set her in a disarray of emotions.

"Y/N," his voice had never seemed sweeter than ever before. She could feel his hand on her shoulder, however, she was so low in shame she could never meet his eyes. What had she 

done? Now that he knew the truth, her darkness, he would never look at her like she could be the sun of his life.

"Y/N." She shook her head, staring down at her fingers. "It's okay, love." She could feel the strain in his voice. It wasn't okay. It was never okay. Ignorance had been bliss. The 

knowledge was a curse. 

Stephen stroked the back, knowing fully well what an inexplicable situation he had put them in.

"What are you going to do with me now, Stephen?" Her voice was laced with hurt and despair and he couldn't do anything to take it away, it hurt him as well. 

"Perks of being an alpha-vampire." He grinned.

They followed one of the villagers through the chilly wind and icy spray of rain. Y/N walked irritably as their guide led them through narrow, muddy lanes. Her new outfit was damn heavy, rain-soaked it weighed tons; the we-won't-change-our-mage-outfits had more been like I-won't-be-changing-my-outfit.

Their lodge was a dilapidated, musty old hut. It had two rooms - one with a large bed occupying most of the space, a fireplace and a wooden table with a pot, the other was a lavatory. The inside wasn't that horrible except for the wind whistling through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the dampness of the floor and walls. The fireplace was unlit but not empty and the sheets were fresh and crisp. 

Once the man was out of sight, Y/N snapped her fingers, changing the drenched gown into her comfy PJs. 

"You can't be wearing that," Stephen complained. He emptied the scrolls, given by the wizards to help him with his fake expedition, onto the table. Over his arcane collection of mystic texts, these were nothing nevertheless he was going to give them one read. 

"Y/N, can you help me with the scrolls?" He stacked them into two piles of twenty-three and eleven.

When there was no response for a long time, Stephen turned around to find no sign of her in the room. "Y/N?" He hesitated at the threshold of the other room. She hummed softly.

He peeped in and caught his breath. Not that she was beautiful- but the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and something more than that. She was like a mermaid - exquisite and alluring; an enchantress who was bewitching his body, mind and soul.

"How did you arrange the hot bath... and bubbles?" His voice was a soft whisper as he trudged towards the tub. She didn't open her eyes, only lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. The corner of her lips tipped up when she felt his warm breath over her shoulder. "I should have thought," he whispered once again, punctuating every word with a kiss. "So, so delicious." 

Y/N whimpered as he sucked and assaulted every inch of exposed skin. "Stephen," she gasped, feeling the pad of his thumb exploring the curve of her breast. "Are you... are you making love to me?"

Her eyes were wide and bright. He watched her, up from close, with a lustful gaze. "No, I'm not," he said. Struggling to check himself, he withdrew himself from her.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't!"

She stirred up in the tub to face him. "Why?"

"For heavens, Y/N, don't you get it?" He pumped out all his pain, desire and anger at her. "I can't lose control. An absentminded caress - the slightest of manhandling, could crush- kill you, baby." He wanted to let her know how much he craved for her and how much he couldn't give her. "You have no idea how much effort I have to put into not fighting you when we spar. Anticipating every move of yours so my natural instincts of a predator don't kick in. That same goes for every moment I spend with you..." He ran a hand through his damp curls, "I know I won't be in full control if I ever tried making love to you. Baby, all it would take is one deadly kiss..."

Then he walked out, creeping back to the safe space he had created; walking away because he couldn't look into her eyes, he couldn't see that pain, that hurt that was choking her soul.

It was beginning to grow light outside, but the village already seemed awake. Y/N stretched her arm, knocking a scroll off the bed in the process. There were a few more scrolls that were left open, carelessly, on the bed from last night.

Last night. She smiled to herself at the memories. He had been restless most of the night, calling her out in his sleep, again and again, begging her not to leave him alone, until she had abandoned the scrolls and held him in her arms. 

She tried to move his hand, lying flat on her stomach but failed to move it an inch. 

"Mm-mm," Stephen mumbled and buried his face further in the curve of her neck. She felt so warm, safe, and familiar, he wanted to cling to her forever.

She sighed. Her fingers moved nimbly across the length of his arm- drawing intricate, irregular lines.

"Are you not mad at me?" He asked after some time. 

"After understanding, you, not at all."

"Hmm. I don't want to let go. But we need to get to the well."

He could feel her going stiff at his words. "What is it, baby?" He asked, moving his hand and cupping her face.

"I don't know, I just don't feel good about this. It's like something deep inside me doesn't want to know about who I am." She buried herself in him. "It's just a bad feeling. I'm sure it's nothing much to worry about."

It was supposed to be located in the backyard of one of the wizards' castles. "The narrow path opens into a great black lake," the wizard said, pointing to one of the four paths in his back garden. "The water harbours creatures of dark magic. Only a few have managed to cross it, but none returned." After giving a fair share of warnings, he left them alone on their journey.

The trees lining the path tangled their boughs around each other in an unnatural manner. Mist arrayed through them and the narrow path.

Deeper they went into the woods, the thicker the mist grew, and the louder the wailing of the creatures that inhabited it. "Stephen," she choked when her eyes caught the outline of a figure, wandering in the distance.

"It's okay," he whispered, tightening his grip on her.

Y/N blinked in surprise when they emerged on the other side of the forest. The trees rustled and deafening moans chilled her spine as she looked at the moonlit lake that seemed to stretch beyond the horizon, and the starry sky. Everything about the place was unnatural - the creatures, the weather, the darkness.

A soft gasp escaped her lips when she spotted Stephen's darkened fingers around her waist. Was it the dark magic of the forest or was he using the dark arts? The latter seemed impossible to her.

"What we seek, lies deep in the lake," Stephen said, dipping his fingers in the chilly water, sensing the enchantment it held. 

She looked through the silken surface of the water, and the silver lining of the creatures inside it.

"You wait here."

"What?" Y/N said. "No!"

"Yes, it will be easier and safer that way," the tips of his blackened fingers moved delicately over the water's surface, casting a spell or two.

"I'm not afraid of whatever lies in there; I'm coming with you," she protested. 

"I neither doubt your abilities nor your courage, there is something else, reasons far from the dark creatures that prevent me from letting you into the lake."

"But, what if-"

"Not buts, love. I can hold my breath longer than you and the water isn't as icy for me as for you. You remember my sister, Donna?" She nodded. He had once mentioned about her death. But she could not remember anything else about her. "She died- drowning herself in the lake at the back of our house. I can't... have you come with me. I simply can't." He kissed her. "I'm too afraid to let you..."

Y/N stood at the edge of the lake, watching him sink into the depth of the lake. Velvety black shadows that had been surrounding him also began to curl around her. "Don't worry, they'll protect you," he assured before diving forward. Her heart hammered, as she watched the silver creatures closing on the master of dark arts. 

By the end of ten minutes, he was positive that he had covered most of the lake but there was no sign of any stone-clad well or runic markings. It was all the same everywhere around. A flick of a dark purple spell left his fingers as another horned, skeleton-like creature approached him.

An alternative struck him, it was dangerous but he had to try. He waved his hands, shifting the shadows around him, drawing back their protective barrier.

As expected they closed in, churning around him yet not touching him. And at once, their claws reached out for him, fleshless claws colder than death itself, pulled him deeper. This was no lake, it was the well itself.

They continued to swirl. Round and round. Deeper and deeper. It was all strange and silvery when they began to transfigure into something he didn't have the words to describe.

"Show me what I need to know," he prayed.

The claws holding him vanished and he fell headlong into darkness.

He opened his eyes, taking in the surroundings. Jane's house. He looked around for any sign of another him or Loki. They had come for her, hoping to find some threat, after finishing up with her coven. But there were none. Carefully looking around he felt this was furthermore back in the past - before their visit.

Walking carefully out of the woods, he peeped into the kitchen. Jane was doing the dishes, then she suddenly looked in his direction. He retreated but froze as he went right through another Jane. The new one looked like an active sorceress, walking determinedly towards her other self.

He couldn't clearly hear the exchange of words between them. The scene dissolved with the witch handing a shard of blue stone to the Jane of this universe.

Now he was in a small thicket of trees. He could see the headlights of a car speeding in the wrong direction. In a blink, it crashed into a tree, and then tumbled downhill. He rushed for it, then stopped as he spotted another version of him near the wreck. The Strange, sniffed around the wreckage, he had blood on his clothes as he emerged with the limp body of Y/N. She looked so small, so broken his heart swelled and he rushed towards them. Like last time, to these people, he was a ghost, one they could neither see nor feel. 

"No! Stop," he cried as he watched Stephen bend over her body and sink the fangs into her neck. The young Y/N whimpered, trying to escape with all the strength she had but he knew she couldn't. 

He continued to cry out fruitlessly but then he rose and bite into his own hand and shoved the bloodied wrist to her mouth.

"Drink," he grumbled.

This time it was bright and sunny. He straightened up, looking around the deserted neighbourhood. He walked around until he reached a building looking quite similar to his New York Sanctum. It must be 2039 New York, post the great floods and hurricanes.

Stephen went inside and saw a hardly nine-year-old Y/N sitting at the foot of the stairs. He crouched in front of her. Caressed her tears-soaked cheeks. 

He searched around the sanctum. 

Then he saw Jane with the Strange of this universe.

"Couldn't there be any other way?" The woman appealed.

"You know, Jane, what an abomination the girl is. I have been already dealing with one scarlet witch, and I cannot let another witch like her rise to power. 

"My Y/N is just a child!" Jane snarled. Anger radiated from her small twisted face. "If you train her right from the beginning, I don't she would ever be a throne in your path! She'll always obey you and respect you."

Strange sighed, closing the book, and placing it on the table next to him. "What you say might be true... Regardless I can't wait and hope every day that she doesn't burn the world. I must do what my duty is, no matter what, who or how old the danger is."

"So you're... going to kill her, no matter what?"

"Isn't it what you saw in the twilight waters? She dies in every universe that she is born into. It's her fate."

The world around him dissolved and reformed.

It was Kamar-Taj. He across the empty courtyard towards his room, in the west wing. 

Stephen stared, transfixed, at the sight of him lying naked next to her. He watched himself admire the glorious, naked angel.

"Hm," she mumbled, nuzzling into his chest. "You've taken to staring at me while I sleep?"

"I've not made it a habit yet, but I might," Strange teased, his hand drifting to stroke her bare back. "It's not very often that I manage to earn someone like you in bed."

"I love you, Master Strange," Y/N declared with utmost devotion.

The silver light engulfed him once again. This time he was thrown into an apocalyptic world. 

He caught sight of the sorceress Jane and decided to follow her.

She led him to a cabin near the edge of the barricaded city. The name Y/F/N Y/L/N was painted on the door. She knocked. He waited.

"Yes, how may I help you?" Y/N asked, holding the door ajar. She froze as she closely looked at the visitor.

"I'm not who you think I am. If you let me in I can explain."

Once Jane was let in, she conjured a chest for thin air. She opened the cover to reveal two shards of stones placed neatly inside it. She carefully took the larger one and handed it to Y/N.

Stephen studied the girl who couldn't have been much younger than his Y/N.

"What is it?" she asked finally after studying the stone.

"Annihilation of reality," Jane answered. 

"The most important price of my multiversal puzzle."

"Magic is an illusion of the mind of children to escape the dreadful truth of reality. I am afraid, the illusion doesn't plague my universe."

"No, it doesn't," Jane said calmly. "Which makes your world the safest place to hide it."

"What is it?" Y/N asked once again.

"Something that I intend you to keep safe."

"You refuse to tell me anything yet you aspect me to believe in you and help you out!" Y/N bellowed at her.

"I don't need you to believe in me. I know you already do believe in magic and the multiverse-"

"It is impossible." Y/N looked astonished.

"You spent all these years hopping for the multiverse to be real, yet when I tell you what you dreamed is real, you refuse to accept."

Y/N sighed in defeat.

"The danger is real Y/N, and I trust you to save us all."

"What do I need to do?"

"Absolutely nothing. Just keep it with you. You exist only across few universes. You are dead in few, and soon will be gone in the rest. And, lucky for me, there is no Stephen Strange or Wanda Maximoff in your universe. They'll never find out in which universe the last piece is hidden unless you attempt anything stupid."

Everything re-dissolved and reformed. It looked like the same thicket of the forest. He waited by the deserted road, for the vehicle to come.

He waited and waited, but it never came. 

Agitated, Stephen frantically searched the forest. For the site where the car might have rolled into. 

Dishevelled, he found the wreck at last. Regardless, it was futile. Her pulse was gone, her breathing still, her heart quiet. He looked around, screaming his name to come and rescue the girl. No one came. It was only him in that dead dark forest and two corpses.

Stephen collapsed on the forest floor. He howled not because of the pain, the disdain but the overpowering numbness. It felt more real than it should have. 

The ground beneath him began to melt. And he was swallowed again to the depths of water. He sank deeper and deeper. The siren grew louder and louder.

"Brother," a sweet voice called him out.

He knew that voice very well. It couldn't be real. If it was then he must be dying. However, he didn't want to die. Not just yet. Y/N would be still waiting-

"Brother, help." This time it was a strained cry.

Donna.

Donna.

Donna.

"The witch-slayer, that's what they call you in my world. You killed the unstable, powerful ones, in your world too, didn't you? In the grand calculus some lives don't matter, won't she be the last sacrifice of her kind?" Unbidden a memory came to him, a dream to be more specific: Stephen standing in front of the girl, draining every ounce of his powers to destroyer her's. 

"Yes, I did," he whispered sadly. "But she won't be one of them. It took me years to realise that every life matters, no matter how much it weighs in the grand calculus. She bears a heavy price on my soul and I shall not expend it."

His words were hard to digest, nevertheless, Charles nodded nervously.

Stephen rubbed his thumb over the scars covering the dorsum of his hand and fingers. They were faint. "How many Y/N's you know across the multiverse?"

"There were two others like her," Charles grimly noted. He had thought she existed only in his universe. Just like Chavez. Never having dreams about herself in never-experienced-before situations. 

"The well showed me - she dies in every universe. That's her fate." He seemed to be losing himself in another memory. "Jane had told me to accept that in her last breath. 'Stop denying' she had whispered at the end."

"You came here for the twilight well?" Stephen asked.

"Yes. Just like in your universe, Jane had built this portal to Atlantis in the other two worlds also. The only difference is, unlike your Y/N, they were killed after Jane returned. She saw something that made her kill her daughter. I wanted to know the truth. The other versions of me also wanted to know it too but they couldn't stabilize the portal."

Stephen seemed amused. "You said other 'versions', what would you possibly want to know when she didn't die?"

"She didn't die doesn't mean Jane didn't try. The other me wanted to know what she had seen that she tried such..."

Stephen couldn't help smiling, reflecting silently that witches were strange creatures, an odd mixture of chaos and balance, ancient and modern, the known and the unknown. At least she had all of it. He reached out slowly, hovering his hands over her in complicated gestures and sealing the spillage of energy. 

"What was that?" she whispered as he nearly concluded.

"You were awake?"

"No, something felt odd. It woke me up." She felt hazy about their surroundings and burst energy from within. She looked into his grey eyes - calm and certain - letting his power, strength and emotions wash over her.

Compulsively he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. All his senses went overactive. Warm, damp arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. Soft lips moving against his. Silken fingers glided across the nape of his neck. And venom. 

"You're marvellous," Y/N murmured the words against his lips and an utterance of pleasure escaped his throat when she brushed the tip of her tongue against his lower lip.

Venom cascaded down his fangs. For a moment, he froze. Desire and need flamed like a raging fire. And he swallowed it all, burning gloriously in the inferno.

"And if even we live together forever, I could never get enough of you."

Y/N smiled and very softly touched his cheek. Soft, cold and a bit damp from the morning dew.

Trying to resist the appeal of those (e/c) eyes, Stephen pulled away, his expression worried. "Your energy was spilling. But you couldn't use it last night."

"So was the girl," she added quietly. "She's a witch too, but couldn't protect herself last night. Something- it felt like some barrier was placed between me and energy when I tried to tap into it."

Stephen nodded in agreement. Though he didn't have a similar problem as her, he felt a bit of difficulty too to use his powers. "We have to be careful around nights."

"Where's dad?"

"He had to leave." He watched her expression saddened. Trying to accept the fact that she had already lost him forever and this was just a chance encounter with one from another universe. "Why don't you check on the girl?" He suggested trying to get her mind off Charles.

She nodded and got up, crossing a few feet of the clearing to the other tent. Hebe was already up, a steaming porridge bowl in her hand. The burns on her arms were faint, almost healed. "I see you can use magic now," she said as she sat beside her on the mossy blanket.

"Yes, we can," she said after gulping a mouthful of food. "Once the sun is out every witch can use their powers until sundown."

"Then how do you protect yourself in the night?" Y/N asked with genuine curiosity. She had to learn their ways if they were going to spend 'nights' here. Though she never felt doubt about Stephen protecting her, she wanted him unnerved all the time.

"Isn't he a wizard?" Hebe asked, her jaw jutting out in the direction of the clearing, Stephen roaming about in a distant end.

"Yes," Y/N affirmed, keeping her voice soft, "He helped us."

"But he's a wizard," Hebe whisper-screamed in unequivocal conviction. "Wizards and witches don't get along."

"It's different where we came from." But she wasn't sure for herself. She had not been in contact with many witches and wizards. And Stephen had said that the attacks on her were made by someone of their kind - not specifying a witch or a wizard. "Stephen is different. He means no harm."

The girl nervously glanced in Stephen's direction and back at Y/N. "I - we witches live in a fortress." Y/N encouraged her to continue, reassuring her they meant no harm to any of the witches. "It is guarded with magic and only a witch of our coven can help you enter it. It's hidden from the eyes of the world. That's the only way we can protect ourselves."

"Why can't we use our powers at night?"

"The wizards have cast their spell over the land. It's unbreakable. With sundown, the spell becomes too powerful for our witchcraft to override it."

"And why did they do so?"

"They're scared we would overpower them. Sorcery has many limits, witchcraft doesn't. They tried to kill us with our powers but when powerless, we're vulnerable as any other woman. They killed many of our sisters." She brimmed with tears at the memory of the losses, but then her eyes shone bright with hope. "But this won't last for long. Once Melina forges the Scarlet Witch, all of their atrocities will come to an end."

"Forge the Scarlet Witch?" Unease dropped in her stomach like lead.

"I know the three witches are supposed to be a myth but Melina says she is almost close to creating the scarlet one."

"Why the scarlet? What about the other two witches?" Y/N had read many books in Kamar Taj about the history of sorcery. But nowhere had she stumbled upon the exact origins of Wanda or anyone like her. This had been a major hurdle for Stephen to understand and estimate her abilities.

"The Emerald and Azure witches are powerful like her but they won't be much of our use. They protect and create lives not destroy them." She finished the rest of her porridge and looked at Y/N expectantly. "I must go back to the fortress. Everyone will be worried."

Y/N nodded. "Can we come with you?"

Hebe seemed to consider it. "I'm not sure. I have to take Melina's permission to let any outsider in. Besides you have a wizard with you. I'll try it for you." Y/N gave her a grateful smile. "I'll let Stephen know."

Though he was standing far away from the witches so that the girl wouldn't feel threatened by his presence, he could hear every word of their conversation. Having no idea about the exact location of the well, everything he had heard was hardly reassuring for their cause.

"You should have been nearby. This place is insane," Y/N said, lacing her fingers with his. "Unless we spar, you forget that I'm a vampire. I can hear you talk clearly even from miles away."

"So you heard about the three witches?" Along with it was the unspoken question, am I one of them? She seemed anxious as she waited for his response.

He simply shrugged his shoulders. "I might have heard about an unholy trinity of sorceresses but it's nothing conclusive about your origins."

"So should we go with her?"

"Only two of us will go," Stephen added earning a look of dismay from Tony.

"What if they don't speak English or any other language we know?"

Stephen smiled slightly, but went on in the matter-of-fact tone, "There are spells for that. We'll hear them in English and they'll hear us respond to the in their own language. Language won't be a barrier. And our clothing will be whatever suitable."

Y/N looked down at her blue halter robe and black boots. "What if they are nudists?"

"Y/N," he cooed, "we're going to find the well and get our work done. We don't have to blend with the people. If it helps, we won't change out of our mage outfits."

She let out a shaky breath and looked forward at the impending disaster.

It was like stepping into total darkness with no idea if you would find solid ground beneath your feet or only miles of air. Y/N could feel Stephen's hand gripping hers, but nothing else. It was similar to apparting but lasted long. Then abruptly they slammed hard on the ground.

Neither of them could move for several moments, both concentrating on catching their breath, adjusting to an atmosphere that felt thickened, humid, and chilly and held a faint smell like sulphur.

"Witches," Stephen murmured, finding his balance in the darkness. Standing on the rocky slope, below, he observed, an enormous valley. Mountains, like the one they stood upon, encircled the valley completely, their high peaks jagged and inhospitable in the gray light just after dawn. The trees, thanks to his vampire eyesight, he could see nearby were peculiar, usually tall and spindly with sparse growth; in the valley below, the distant trees appeared to be squat and gnarled, with scant but very large leaves that seemed to glow dully. It was quite similar to the place in Y/N's dream.

But the thick air he sensed was pulsating with a peculiar energy. It made him feel drained.

She felt unnerving numbness like someone had sucked all the power out of her. Until now she hadn't realised how accustomed she had grown to the chaos. 

"You alright?" Y/N breathed heavily. The words were barely out of her mouth when the ground beneath them shuddered. She would have trembled back to the ground if Stephen hadn't caught her arms. She held unto him, for what felt like minutes, as the tress and boulders crashed and the grounded withered in pain. Once it ended, absolute silence stretched for a while before the creatures of the night rose to life.

He pulled Y/N behind him at once he heard fleeting footsteps and ruthless male voices, furious with urgency approaching them at an alarming pace. It felt quite an effort to conjure up the shields. There was a flash of dim light and Y/N winced in pain.

"I can't use...," she trailed off. The stabbing ache was unbearable and she leaned against the gnarled tree, cradling her hand close to her chest.

A desperately fleeing girl, dressed in a torn white robe, burst out of the tree line. She came to an abrupt halt at the sight of him. 

"There! Quick!!!"

Two men followed her out. Although he could sense her pain, sensing the girl's fear and the ravenous hunger of her pursuers, he asked Y/N to get to the girl.

The girl evaded her over her reassuring promises.

"We won't hurt you," Y/N panted, trying to find a way through the thick thorny bushes. Over the sounds of her laboured breathing she could hear the girl was closer now.

"Don't do this," she cried stumbling away from Y/N. 

"They won't hurt u, neither would we," she once again assured her. 

Her eyes fell on the numerous blisters, remarkably similar to the one she got, covering the length of her arms. "You can't use your powers," she softly acknowledged. The girl shook her head. A glint of amusement sparked in her tear streaked features. She seemed a few years younger than her. Fifteen or sixteen, she guessed.

"You... are a witch and," she was painting like a dying mammoth, "he's a wizard." Y/N nodded, slowly reaching for her. "You aren't running away from him?"

"No, why would I?" she asked crouching beside her. 

"You are not from here?" It was more of a conclusion than a question.

"No, we are," she had no idea where they were, "very far from here." She couldn't complain of the sceptical looks she received. "Now, who would you be?"

"Hebe," she choked out. 

"It's a beautiful name," Y/N said, reaching out and stroking her wet cheek. She whimpered before passing out.

"Y/N-," he tried to reason but she snatched back her now-healed hand from his.

"We can't let her die," she argued, pointing at the primitive-looking-tent where the girl slept peacefully.

"She isn't dying. Anything we do to change their lives will create an incursion. It would destroy their whole reality. Everybody will die. I can't heal her." He watched her pursing her lips and staring at the fire. "Y/N," he softly pulled her back into his arms, "we are in Atlantis, everything and everyone is going to meet their end in a few days."

End of another flock of lives. Why did she always find herself in such situations? Positive and happy, she reminded herself of Wanda's mantra to avoiding unpleasant shifts of probability. She tried directing her attention to the various objects inside the tent. Though the interior of the tent was anything but primitive, they had kept their luxuries to minimum. It didn't help much so she shuffled back to Stephen's steady breathing. Lying next to him in the cot, his stillness made her realize how much she moved, constantly blinked, breathed, and rearranged herself.

In profile he looked like a medieval king lying peacefully in his cathedral tomb - long legs, long torso, long arms, and a remarkably strong face. Hesitantly, afraid he might snap away, she traced the line of his forehead with a finger, from where it started at brushing away a stray lock of hair from his forehead, it slightly moved over his prominent brow bone with its thick, black brows. Her finger trailed down the side of his face before feeling his high, noble cheekbones. She realised she would never be this close to him again; if he were awake he wouldn't let her unless it was a Christmas tradition.

He tried to suppress the groan as he sensed the declining pressure of her soft, warm fingertip. He didn't know why he was trying to hide his reaction from her. But isn't that what people usually do? He felt his senses overwhelmed with joy as her pulsating warmth touched over the bridge of his nose, finally resting over the tip. Against the better of his judgement that wanted him to be still, his lips wanted nothing but to kiss that warm, delicately angelic hand that managed to shook him up to his core with just one fingertip. 

She deserved to know how much he craved her. 

She grasped quietly.

Stephen glanced up at the swift loss of warmth. He beheld her glassy eyes and trembling lips.

Until now, she had never realised how complicated emotions could be. "What is it you want Stephen?"

"I want you. It's as simple as complicated as that."

For her it was simple. Nothing complicated as such. At least it was much less complicated than everything happening around them. Less complicated than watching a flicker of shadow around their camp.

"What is it?" Stephen asked as she walked out to the clearing. Her eyes examined the surrounding forest but couldn't find anyone.

"I think, I...," before she could finish Stephen ghosted into the forest line and had the man pinned against a tree.

"Y/N," the hooded figure grunted. 

The voice was familiar. "Leave him," she screamed and rushed towards the men. 

Stephen was confused as she pushed him away and wrapped her arms around the man.

"I missed you so much," she mumbled into his chest.

The man seemed to be as confused as Stephen when he lifted his hood. 

"I can't," she'd said. "Aaron broke my heart."

"I know," he'd said, lying down next to her. "But one day he won't matter."

"He had said he loved me."

"They all say something like that," he'd told her, caressing her wet cheeks. "Trust the one who takes his time saying it."

"How long did it take Mom?"

"She never did." He'd smiled at her curious gaze and said, "Some confessions don't have to be said out loud. You just know it."

"How do you do this without her?" She knew he missed her more than she did, loved her more than she did. And the way light had left his eyes the day Jean died, she was scared she would lose him too. "You," he'd whispered and kissed her forehead. "You're my only anchor in this sinking world."

Stephen started at her like a child staring at an anonymously wrapped parcel. She was a risk, a mystery and he was being drawn to her like a moth toward the fire. He sat down heavily next to her, still staring over at her, still unsure of what to say. "What are you thinking about?"

"Dad," she replied with a smile, "the way he put me together when I was broken."

"And who broke you?" He asked conversationally, lying next to her and gazing at the ceiling.

"The usual one," she answered. 

"Do you miss them - ever think of how different things would be if they were here?" She asked, edging closer to him, "Your other family, before the avengers?" He didn't answer; he had no answer to it. He hadn't given a thought to them for a very long time. He felt like being undone in ways it had been never before. It scared him. What scared him more was he wanted her to open him up layer by layer. "I didn't have much to miss about them. My... father had sent me away when I was quite young. I don't think their presence would have made any difference."

She reached toward him, very slowly, watching his face, thinking he perhaps might stop her. But he didn't. Her warm fingers grazed the curve of his hand, rubbing smooth circles. "Why would he do that?" she whispered, drinking in the struggle of emotions in his eyes.

She had no idea what a man Eugene Strange was. The laugh came out much more cruel than he intended. He expected her to flinch, to withdraw like everyone else had but she stared at him with those same warm eyes. "Victor and I were bent on pursuing our career as artists. For a successful businessman like him, our dreams seemed completely unacceptable. I was the eldest, so I had to be fixed first. Fathers love to fix things, don't they?"

"What about Victor?"

"Our little sister died before he could do the same with him. He and mother wanted all of us to be together again. Though I loved my brother very, very much, I couldn't spend the rest of my days watching the face of her killers."

He waited for her judgement - the usual you-should-have-gone-back advice. But she had taken his story as it was no question to what he had done whatsoever. She leaned closer and laid all of her hand against his forearm. His eyelids slipped closed as he tried to contain his reaction. Every touch of hers felt like an earthquake rocking through his core.

"Why do you wear this broken watch?" 

"To remind me of what I had done," he whispered with his eyes still closed.

When Y/N didn't pursue to lift the silence spell between them, he shifted opening his eyes, eager to watch her expression and guess her thoughts. And he wasn't disappointed. A pale blue light was seeping from her body all around the edges, escaping from her pores. The stone glowed and her eyelids were twitching as if she were watching a movie only she could see.

Maybe it worked after all. The shroud of blue mist, covering her, began sweeping under his skin. It rejuvenated every fibre of his being. The surge of power and life was impossible to comprehend. Stephen shook his head in disbelief. Her powers grew by every day. This was beautiful and scary at the same time. 

He carefully withdrew his hand from hers, kissed her cheek and softly padded to Charles' room.

Stephen leafed through scraps of paper and closely written notebooks with the attention of a judge deciding on a capital case. In every bundle of research papers, he'd found something or the other related to mystic arts. Charles Henley, he decided, was a better parent than Jean when it came to keeping secrets. It was better to leave behind complicated clues than to leave no clues at all.

His cell phone dinged - a message from Peter.

THEY ARE COORDINATES - WHICH PLACE NOT SURE BUT LOKI BELIEVES IT'S NEAR WHERE THE TWILIGHT WELL WAS LAST SEEN.

"Codex Imperium, Maxim's Primer, Basics of Astral Projection; you finished all of this," Wong noted, as he sorted through the books. "I see you are keeping up with your Master's knowledge as well as mischief."

"Am I?" Y/N asked disbelievingly. 

"Stealing books from the library through portals," he sighed remembering how much trouble Stephen had given him.

"He said it was fine as long as I returned them to their rightful place." Of course, he would, Wong snorted. "Then tell him I won't be fine with giving you access to the Master's section in his absence."

"Fine, I won't," she pouted.

"As punishment, you won't have access to the section today."

"Wong...," she coaxed and whined to no avail. "Without him or Wanda, what am I supposed to do without books?"

"Not my problem," he replied while still busy putting away the books.

With nothing to do on hand, she decided to bug him instead. "What does the stone of Hala do?"

"Depends on the knowledge of the wielder," he replied nonchalantly.

"What do you know about the multiverse?"

"Infinite realities with infinite danger."

"Cauldron of the Cosmos?"

"Figure out Mystical treats lurking in space."

"Necronomicon?"

"Not the book for you."

"Darkhold?"

"Stay away from it all cost."

"Master Strange?"

"Ste-," his lips froze as soon as he realized the name she had taken. "Where did you hear the name?"

She regarded him carefully before speaking, "My parents. Why would you ask?"

"Nobody takes that name anymore. What do you know about him?"

"Nothing. I didn't even remember the name until last night. Who was he? And why doesn't anybody speak of him?"

"You should ask Stephen," he replied, busying himself once more. 

She notice that way he reacted was similar to her father. This only mystified why they had been searching for him all those years. Knowing she wouldn't get anything more out of him regarding Strange, she decided on knowing about Stephen instead, never realising that they were one and the same person.

"You said I was keeping up with him, how long had you known him?"

"Over forty years... He was utterly shattered in every way when he came to Kamar Taj." With every word, he spoke she filled page after page of her blank book about him.

"How did he end up being a vampire?" 

Wong bent his head, as hot pressure swelled in his eyes, throat, and chest. The flash of memory was a cruel stab of pain. 

"After defeating Thanos, they turned the zombies back to humans. I think he had seen into the future many a time before they did this, 'cause the first thing I remember after being reverted, after I found him is that he atomised all the infinity stones. As the sorcerer supreme, he was supposed to protect the time stone no matter what, but he destroyed our greatest weapon without any hesitation." He paused for a beat and motioned Y/N to follow him. 

"Days after that we started getting visitors across the multiverse. The gates had to be closed." He opened the doors to one of the deeper quarters' of the library, housing the Orb of Agamotto. He pointed to her the protective shield glowing around the orb, "The Father of Mystic Arts, the mighty Agamotto, had built three sanctums in places of power but they weren't enough to shield our world anymore. Stephen knew what he had to do."

"He built another seven sanctums," Y/N noted.

"A feat no sorcerer would dare to achieve. That massive use of power had nearly killed him. When he was building the fifth one, I had given up all hope of him surviving the process."

"Then the vampires showed up?"

"No, the vampires were always there - walking anonymously among mankind for centuries. The use of stones to revert the zombies had caused a massive surge of gamma radiation. The shifter spices that had been dormant for the last few centuries started increasing at an alarming rate. The vampires feared being outnumbered and thus began the struggle between the Supernaturals. But it wasn't as serious as compared to other problems."

And he could still clearly remember the day it finally was. The distress call from Stark still rang in his ears. "Stephen was very weak after building the final sanctum. I tried to stop him in every way possible when Stark called him for help, even I insisted on going instead of him. But he was stubborn as always. At least that is what I thought of then. The more I think of it, the surer I get that he knew what was in store for him. He knew what he was going to become, what he had to do to bring the Supernatural world under control, and what all he was going to lose when all he did was to save many lives above few."

To suffer a loss was one sort of pain, but the pains of watching someone you love suffer and when you can't do anything about it was a whole different level of agony. 

"You have been reading the same page for over an hour. I don't have to be psychic to figure out you aren't focused," Stephen spoke out loud. He always tried to keep her within his field of vision, never letting her out of his sight except when he went hunting or out of Kamar Taj.

She peeked at his pensive form through her thin screen of hair - at least some sort of barrier was there. If she could place a veil, even thin and fragile, over her thoughts, at least ones that were about him, she would have continued their lessons in the hope of stealing one glance at his thoughts. 

Initially not knowing whether he'd show up at the dinner table was torture. It was the only time that she saw him out of his shell. The only time they weren't master-apprentice but something more, or something less than that. Not daring to ask whether he'd be there was the real ordeal. The thud her heart gave when she saw him unannounced both terrified and thrilled her. She was afraid when he showed up, afraid when he failed to, afraid when he looked at her, more frightened yet when he didn't. And she didn't realise when the skipped beats slipped beyond dinner time to mornings when he suddenly slipped beside her in the library, with a missing beat she blossomed like a flower.

But these were bearable tortures. What drove her crazy was - how much he had learned of her from her thoughts? Aware of her stealing glances at him when they sat for hours beside each other in the library. Was his fear of hurting her genuine, or there was something else behind leaving her alone around new moon nights? Did his heart jolt when he... She abruptly ceased when a hand slammed her book shut.

"We won't do any good here. Let's spar instead." It was her least favourite session after telepathy sessions. A reminiscence of her enthusiastic spirit on the day Stephen introduced her to all of this; made her wonder if she was ever meant for all of this. 

"Mystic arts - or as you prefer, magic is the art of harnessing various forms of energy to manipulate one or more aspects of the infinite realities that are present within the multiverse. The energy harnessed can be divided into three different categories: Personal energies, Universal energies, and Dimensional energies. Personal energies are derived from the life force of the sorcerers and can only be used to power abilities developed through mental studies, thus limited to mental abilities such as astral projection, hypnotism, telekinesis, and telepathy. However, continual use of such energies will fatally deplete the individual by consuming their life force which makes it a must for us to learn to harness from an external source through meditation techniques and trained willpower. One of the easier sources that a sorcerer can draw power from is the Universal energies of our home dimension which can be used for conjuration, transmutation, and teleportation purposes and are commonly used in battle to create shields and weapons of energy. To tap into such energies usually requires specific gestures and - or words," his hands moved to create various geometrical shapes that turned into a much more elaborate holographic shield than the one she had seen before. "Lastly, Dimensional energies are those that are drawn from other planes of existence throughout the multiverse or are bestowed upon a sorcerer from one or more extra-dimensional entities. These entities must be entreated by using ritualistic spells and possibly a promise, contract, or sacrifice of some method. Here, at Kamar Taj, I'll teach you how to tap into each of the sources."

"Then what about the things we tried back at your home?"

"What you wield is Chaos, you can't handle it at once. It is not only an extremely powerful and rare form of magic but also very unstable and dark in nature. Never forget that all magic comes with a price. Without balance and control, such power will corrupt you. The Eldritch Magic that you'll learn, although light-based magic and easier than other forms of magic, had damaged my body - especially my stomach to a point of not accepting human food. Without the healing abilities of the vampire, wielding any mystic energy might have been impossible for me." With another gesture of his hand, the shield collapsed. "We'll start from the basics. You'll learn how to use magic slowly but safely." 

"Oomph."

Y/N landed flat on her back. Hard. 

"You're doing it wrong. Try to fight not to flight," he offered her a hand. "I could if you weren't both a martial arts expert and vampire." 

"No fight is ever fair. You won't always get to know about the strengths and weaknesses of your opponent. What are you gonna do when an army of sorcerers attacks you? Or worse, mystical beasts cross your path. Fight like your life depends on it."

"I'm not here to fight anyone. I here because you promised me you'd teach me to control my powers. I simply want to learn how not to attract trouble like a magnet, so that no one gets hurt around me."

"You're wrong. You're here because you have no other choice. Now, fight." Every bruised muscle screamed in protest. At times she felt dealing with Stephen was much worse than with Rachael. His words, she realised, had the strength to crush, pulverise her completely as easily as they made her day. "I wish you were like Wanda," she mumbled under her breath. 

"And I wish you didn't throw these many tantrums. Do you ever realise how much all of this is difficult for me?" 

"Then don't," it came out almost as a whisper. "I survived before you came. I'll figure this out on my own without bothering you," she spoke, trying her hardest to smother the sob.

He wondered for how long she was going to shut herself in, ignore him the way he ignored her - on purpose, to protect himself, to show she was not much to him. "I see I'm fucked up from all sides," he accepted in defeat, perched at the edge of the roof. Wanda simply shrugged at his dismayed expression and glided past him towards Y/N's room. 

She walked in and looked over Y/N cautiously adding, "He's upset about it."

"He should be," her voice cracked, "Why can't he teach as you do? Why does he have to be so harsh?" she curled up in the bed, "I don't want him to teach me anymore. And I really mean it this time."

Wanda tentatively placed a hand on her upper back, rubbing it in slow circles between her shoulder blades. "You're cooked up with all the training, let's get you out of this place and buy you something for tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?"

"Christmas so does Tony's party." Y/N tried hard not to smile. Wanda grinned at her. Besides lightening up their sessions with sitcoms, she had hyped up Y/N's interest in parties with a vivid description of Tony's often lavish soiree. She hoped it would make up for what had happened.

"Now I see why you people stay so far away from the town," even her loudest voice was all but a whisper. "What?" Morgan screamed back, her eyes still closed, arms swaying, enjoying the current song.

It had been nearly midnight, and with people still filling in, the party didn't seem to break up in near future. Making her way through the maze of humans, vampires, and shifters, Y/N decided to head back to the house, find Wanda, and tell her that she'll be leaving for the night. 

"Kamar Taj is booming with a party too," she heard his voice echo in the empty house as she made her way towards the terrace through the multitude of decorations and gifts. "Wasn't planning to head there either," she scoffed watching him drain an entire bottle of whisky as though it were a shot glass.

She scanned the swarm of people to no avail. Many of them were even spread to the deeper parts of the forest. Before she could withdraw herself from the railings, she grasped at the feeling of cold fingertips around the nape of her neck.

"Relax, it's just a necklace," Stephen whispered in her ear. She turned around, fingering the bright stone encased in the golden rings. "I wanted to give it in the morning but wasn't sure if you weren't mad enough to see me." 

She felt guilty for being the reason behind his not coming to spend the Christmas morning with his family, ashamed and embarrassed for not getting any gift for him in return. "Is it your family heirloom?"

"No, it's an ancient relic. Stone of Hala," he gently grasped her wrist, moving her until they were hidden in the darker corner of the terrace, away from the eyes of the crowd, "though I wish I had something of that sentimental value to give." He continued to hold her wrist, drinking in the feel of her quickening pulse beneath his fingers and placing his other hand on the wall next to her shoulder. 

Y/N pressed herself more tightly against the wall, almost as if she was trying to disappear through it in order to escape him. "You are drunk," her voice was low, just above a whisper. He looked down at her submissive posture, studying once again her averting gaze, her fingers, wrists, lusting once more for every fibre of her muscle, wishing to capture her slightly trembling lips with his, thinking what she would make of him if she knew he came in that beautiful mouth of hers last night.

"Vampires don't get drunk," Stephen said, taking a step back having the slightest hope of her not running away at once. Hypocrite. And he knew it. Though the alcohol didn't make any difference, the sweetness of her scent and her blood had intoxicated him much harder than alcohol could do. "Kiss me," he looked at her with pleading eyes and then at the tangle of willow and mistletoe above, "it's a Christmas tradition."

Stephen waited for her to say something. He was staring at her. And it was the first time, Y/N dared to stare back at him. Usually, she would glance and then look away because didn't know how to swim in the lovely, clear pool of his grey eyes without drowning. She bit her lip. She knew she shouldn't. Fifteen minutes ago, she realised, she was at a cross with him, one word, one touch, and she was melting like butter.

And before she knew it, he sidled up to her. So close, they thought, they hadn't been this close except in their dreams or when they trained. He leaned down with I'll-meet-you-halfway-but-no-further-kiss, giving her a chance to say no or say something, to make or break the moment, to yield or unyielding. And it was easy not to resist her impulse.

Her lips were warm and inviting, and he spread his over her mouth carefully, as if he were worried he might bruise her. Not knowing how to calibrate the kiss perfectly she kept her mouth closed. Stephen brought his hand up to cup the curve of her cheek, caressing the skin with his thumb as his lips moved softly over hers. 

He brushed his tongue over her lips urging them to open. He had never thought he would get her so close to his fangs. He felt the sweet taste of cinnamon scotch the spiciness of the whisky once she began to reciprocate the kiss. The blaring of music, loud voices, tapping feet everything drowned under the humming of their heartbeats - his beating her every seventh beat. 

This kiss was not what she expected.

She had expected him to be rough, desperate, and urgent. His fingertips to trail along her skin and down her body to places she wasn't ready to let him touch. But he kept his hands where they were, one caressing the small of her back and the other at her cheek. His kiss was nothing but tender and sweet. And his insistent mouth managed to make her lips part, sending wild electricity along her nerves, evoking sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling - sinking her knees as she kissed him back. 

He moved his hand across her head, swiftly intensifying the kiss that made her cling to him as a swimming giddiness spun her round and round, and he was the only solid anchor in her dizzy swaying world.

He leaned back, letting his arms trace along the length of her sleeves as they dropped to her waist, holding her still. He was full of simple happiness to see her face again, to hold her so close to him once again. Her flushed face, uneven breathing, rapid pulse - he wanted all of it, it, and much more. He wanted things he hadn't felt in his entire time as a vampire. Things he was sure he hadn't craved for even when human. Things that might very much be impossible.

Silly. That was the only word he could think of to describe the turbulence of emotions he was facing. Though it was the words he ever related himself to but tonight was an exception.

"You're making things very difficult for me," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her, though he realised his words made any sense to her.

"Was that very hard for you?" she asked with sympathetic eyes.

"Shit," he muttered. She followed his gaze but couldn't figure out anything wrong - everyone was grooving to the music. "Do you have your sling ring?" He pulled out his cloak, placing it over her shoulders. 

"Yeah, but-"

"It's a dark ritual to walk through a dead person's memories. The things we use in our daily life, objects that possess our sentimental value carry a part of ourselves with them. They even hold secrets that we haven't shared with the world. The burnt objects in your room had been used in the ritual. And we can't ever know what they wanted from Jean," Wanda explained. 

"Anna wanted to know about her." Stephen's statement made no sense to her, and probably the rest of them. From trying to find a reliable fact from intangible memories which had nothing common other than being strangled, to guess it must be the locket that the attacker must have wanted and trying to break it open had exhausted her to a point where she would be happy if someone dragged her to the bed. Sorcery didn't seem as much interesting as she had fantasised. A bit of concentration and mind penetration from Wanda had taken its toll on her. She couldn't make any sense of where Anna came from in all of this. "Anna?"

"She is involved in this with many others." The wild attacks weren't wild after all. The hybrid creatures and attacks had been deliberately staged to keep them occupied. "Nothing is making sense. Don't you all be Sherlock Holmes," Y/N wearily chastised. 

"She had planned to do it on Halloween Night. Mathew and I were occupied with victims, but Jean had placed old but a bit strong protective spells. She managed to break them sometime later but I was already there by then, she didn't have the ring, you had it but were with me. The next day she got it from you, coincidentally Wanda and I happened to cross by the accidental site and she didn't have enough time to either plant proper memories on you or break the new protection spells. Worried that you might recover the memory, she tried to blend into your life and get the proper opportunity to do what she wanted." 

"I wish they had just told me the truth," her voice a whisper over the howling winds that ravaged the ruined city. The place had been so close to the nuclear attack, she could hardly believe any old building would have survived it. 

"Sometimes our elders try to protect us, not knowing what they are protecting us from." Through the ivied fog, he could make out the remodelled building of Kamar Taj, thinking back to the way he had journeyed here in search of hope. And it didn't take too long for a familiar face to emerge from behind the towering stone walls. He looked disbelievingly more at him than his accomplice.

"Sensed you coming," Wong said after they closed in.

"Of course you did."

She peered nervously around as she followed the men. They had been talking about the west wing; some supposed sorcerers and the reason behind their arrival. She could hear a few voices from across the courtyard, except which the castle, sanctum she corrected, seemed to be empty. The names, she focused, sounded oddly familiar. She had overheard her parents using the title Master frequently when they were strenuously searching for a man few months before her mother died. She hadn't taken it seriously until after her death. But every time she asked Charles about it, he would either avert the conversation or avoid Y/N like a plague. 

Her heart gave a jolt when they reached the west wing. It was a miniature version of the courtyard and its building except it was more dark, cold, and absolutely desolated. Warned that magic was going to extract a heavy physical price from her, she had hoped her mental strength didn't diminish and also hoped for some better place for training when Stephen had told her that his manor was not the perfect place to practice.

"Y/N", she sighed with defeat at the sound of his voice. Whatever was going to happen, however, it was happening, acceptance seemed the only way out. She weakly nodded at Stephen's instructions and resigned herself to the indicated room on the second floor.

"Stephen," Wong said tensely, "why are you protecting her from other sorcerers?"

"She doesn't seem to recognise her own powers. Hell, I don't understand much of it either!" He seemed suddenly, disconcertingly vulnerable. "Some of them are after her, neither of us knows why. I can't let any - "

"She isn't...," he didn't need to complete the question. The apparent tension in his body was enough of an answer. He wasn't surprised much to find Stephen in this odd situation. With his bag of luck, he always managed to get himself in dicey situations.

"The first time I met her, I had go far away from her. I didn't want her involved with me in any way. But as I watched her, a part of me craved for something normal- I wanted to be with someone who didn't remind me of those years. But all that happened is I got sucked into this chaos once again."

"There is a saying - one often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it. You won't able to ever give up this," Wong gestured around, "one way or the other you'll find yourself here." He sighed and kept staring at the mountains lining the horizon with jagged peaks.

"The Council doesn't know about her," Stephen said after some time. Wong mulled over it for a few minutes. "You are giving them another reason to detest you. You won't stay invincible forever-"

"I never wanted to be ever. Everything I'm doing is for her safety. Jean hadn't informed of her presence to anyone, I can't dare to do it unless I know why."

"Got what you were after?"

"Not precisely." Stephen was annoyed and disappointed. The masters of the sanctums were laying waste to the insurmountable pains he took - to build all those sanctums - to minimize multiversal travels. "They thought it was a random power surge - some uncontrolled witch. Didn't feel serious enough to investigate. They have been briefly documenting such incidents. But I did find out that a similar surge had happened here in 2034 and 2035."

"Y/N was born in 2035," Wanda notes vehemently.

This was getting way more complicated than any of them had imagined. Either the travellers were dead or had returned. The more onus possibility being them still in this universe. 

"They must have come for her then too. That makes sense why Mathew had that fake memory. Y/N's mother, Stephen, she knew what was happening. That's why she left this place with her all those years back."

"Then why didn't she go back to her coven?" Loki pondered. "As far I can remember Jean was a lame witch. And the child then wasn't a woman of power."

"The child we saw was Rachael. Not Y/N," Stephen corrected. "And that lame witch managed to hide her from The Council for all these years. What buried memories does Y/N possess?"

"Loki couldn't get much out of her," Wanda mused. Stephen raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? I thought you were the best." Huffs of laughter whispered over.

"There were numerous barriers. It took some time to get through some of them. Her memories weren't manipulated - except for one from a few weeks back - and she does have a memory of her and Jane leaving but nothing of what led to it."

"And Matt's original memory?"

"It was made up. No alteration or deletion."

"What about Y/N's?"

"It wasn't implanted properly. It kept changing." It was some buoyant optimism in their drowning river of problems. When tried harder to recall, there was a hope of getting the exact memory back.

Y/N blinked her eyes open. She had a murky recollection of last night's events. A part of her believed they were too fanciful to be real but a glance around the room said it wasn't. She shifted her feet off the bed and called out for Wanda. When there was no response, she called out again, louder this time. A prickly sensation of fear crept up her neck after she examined the ominous hallway. There seemed no sound of life save for the hooting of owls. And a burble of water?

Leaving the hall, she walked to the bathroom door and paused to listen. There was no sound coming from beyond, not at the moment at least. "Hello?" she bit her lip, hesitating at the doorknob when silence was the only answer.

The door slid open to reveal the neat, white marble countertop with the sink in it, then a toilet, and finally the tub itself. Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw Stephen lying still in the large tub. His eyes were closed, his long eyelashes fanning over the marble-like skin of his cheeks and his face an inch above the water level. 

He couldn't have died, could he? Wanda did mention that they weren't immortals. Alarmed she rushed to his side and dropped to her haunches as she reached instinctively to grab his shoulder, though what she'd intended to do, Y/N couldn't say. There was no way she could lift him out of the water by herself. Fortunately, there was no need. The moment she touched him, Stephen's eyes shot open. He went from all sleepy to sharp in a heartbeat. 

His face was furious and white. She gasped and squirmed as his fingers curled around her throat. She closed her eyes unable to meet his strange, frightening gaze. Her mind went over what had happened. She had startled a vampire - he was the predator and she was his prey.

"Be still," he said in a harsh voice. "I might not be able to control myself if you step away."

Y/N nodded in agreement, her heart still beating in erratic syncopation. His fingers loosened, letting her go. For a moment she had to fight down the revulsion and stay as still as he required. 

He was downplaying his instincts - trying to play her dead so the predator in him lost interest in its prey. Her eyes slowly opened and he knew what she saw. Avid hunger. He saw the fear in her eyes growing by leaps and bounds. He was proud of her bravery to manage remaining still.

"What had happened? And don't startle me like that ever again." His voice was gruff, and his expression dark with concern. 

Y/N stared, suddenly unable to speak as her gaze slid over his wide chest and dropped of its own accord down to where he disappeared below the bubbles that filled the tub. She was surprised that he would have bubbles in his bath, and also a bit disappointed at how it blocked her view of what they hid. The sight of him was filling her mind with images that made her face flush, but not with embarrassment.

"Now, I would have loved to do that but the bath has long grown cold. What went wrong?"

She stood from where she'd been kneeling and abruptly turned her back to him. Then she gave herself a mental slap - vampire and wizard, she ought to be careful around him - and forced herself to speak.

"Nothing's wrong. I called out, but nobody answered. Then came into the bathroom and saw you. I was worried you were dead or something."

"You were worried about me?" She was bemused at his surprise. Surely anyone would be worried. "I assure you, it will take more than that to kill me." 

His amusement faded as he took her form - damp black hair, her flush cheeks, eyes averting once they drift away from his face to more interesting bits, her small torso drowned in the grey shirt - his shirt he noted. She looked so small and lost; he wanted to have her in his arms and make everything right.

"Why were you here?" Her question broke his stupor. "What does it seem to you?" Y/N simply shrugged. "I was taking a bath and then fell asleep." She frowned. "Who sleeps their bath?"

"I was tired," he groaned, massaging his forgotten stiff neck. "Y/N, I want to get out of this bath. If you don't wanna see anything you might want or not... Besides, I can hear Wanda coming up the driveway. You should have your curiosity quenched by her."

"She won't explain to me much about magic and what's happening."

There was a soft splash as he shifted in the tub to reach for the towel lying on the floor, then he said with exasperation, "Then ask her what she will answer."

"So you eat just like normal people? No dietary restrictions?" Y/n asked, in the expanse of which Wanda managed to clear the table and clean the dishes. "We do have restrictions. Very high protein, mostly meat, is off-limits. They are pretty hard to digest and escalate cell aging. Carbos are the best."

"You age?" She had mentioned they weren't immortals but Y/n hadn't expected them to be growing old like other humans.

"Yes though at a very, very slow rate. We are after all a subspecies of the human race. That's what Bruce said. I didn't get most of the scientific stuff those men were discussing."

"No worries, I get it. You are some mutated version of us," Y/N concluded, following Wanda out of the kitchen. "Tell me how it started."

"Remember about the clash between Tony and Steve?" Wanda inquired.

"Yeah, was it over some European accord. I don't remember quite well the stories dad told me about you all." 

"Sokovian Accords. Some of us agreed, others didn't. Then Steve found his long-lost friend Bucky. Turned out he was a brainwashed super-soldier who had killed Tony's parents. Tony was devastated. So we fought each other. I was on Steve's side, we lost."

"Then how come you ended up here?"

"After we lost, we were imprisoned. Once we broke out, we got split up to lay low. It was during this that Hope's father tried to retrieve his wife from a quantum realm. Now don't ask me what it that, 'cause I don't know."Y/n nodded. "His wife had contracted a zombie virus over there. That's how it got spread over our world."

"But you all had fixed it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we did. Vis had this stone on his forehead called the Mind stone. It set out a certain frequency to keep the zombies at bay."

"Wait, he-"

"He isn't like the rest of us. He is a synthezoid, an advanced android who can replicate human form." She continued her tale of Vision finding her after the nonfugitive team of avengers had turned into zombies trying to fight them, how they came across Hope and went to Wakanda to remove the stone from his body to tap into its full potential to reverse the zombie infection.

"The stories can wait, Wanda, try making her remember what's important," Loki announced as they entered the library.

"Vampire senses," Y/N muttered under her breath. "As good as spidey senses, with blood drawing bites," Loki added.

"Then why didn't you hear when I called out?" she snapped.

He felt a bit of disappointment when his arms pulled her closer to his chest. Fucking piece of cloth. But it soon followed a wave of guilt. He had left her without a word halfway through… It wasn’t entirely his fault, was it? Wong had held him up longer than it was required. He let out a breath, glancing outside the window. The sky was still filled with the black fog. It will clear out soon now that we have sent those creatures back to their dimension.  

Y/N blinked several times trying to adjust to the light. She remained still, silently watching him stare somewhere, jaw clenched, lost in thoughts, feeling his fingers draw light patterns against the shirt. Even with the messy hair and few dull red cuts across his face he undeniably- She shot up abruptly as the realisation of the events of the past hours coursed through her.

“Sweetheart,” Stephen began, unsure of her thoughts and emotions, “I’m sorry about last night. There were things from other dimensions. I had to go…”

“It was alright. I mean, it was literal life and death, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Then I can wait. I’m not that important.”

Faint amusement darted through his weary eyes. “Thanks for the understanding.”

He toyed with the collar of the shirt she was wearing. His shirt, technically. “I thought I left you naked.”

“Naked and aroused,” she corrected.

He hummed and ran a thumb down her neck and in between the valley of her clothed breasts. Her nipples pebbled in anticipation.

“This is not appropriate,” he said, undoing the first button and sweet baby Jesus, she threatened to liquefy under his intense, scolding stare. “This has to come off. Did you try to leave?”

“I had wanted to,” she breathed as his thumbs circled her nipples for a moment.

He noticed the use of past tense and nodded. “Good,” he muttered, pinching her pebbled flesh between his fingers, “It will take some time to clear out the mist. Everyone had been instructed to stay indoors until then. ” It was then she noticed the dark gloomy night instead of the bright sunny morning.

Then he just grabbed handfuls of her aching breasts and crushed them between his palms.

She shoved him away. Then she put her hands on his shoulders, straddling him, her tits were right at his face, and he leaned forward, nuzzling between them. Stephen closed his eyes, mouth drifting towards her nipple. His lips parted over it and latched to it like a newborn’s. 

She arched at the suction and he put his hands on her back so she couldn't get away. She groaned, so aroused by alternate waves of suction and his tongue swirling around it, she squirmed in his lap.

He held her down, shifting his attention to the other nipple.

His tongue languidly swirled in circles around the pigmented skin until the skin was drawn as tight as possible. Drawing in a cold breath through his mouth, he flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves.

She whimpered and pressed herself further into him. He grinned, looking up at her, one hand travelling between them, rubbing circles on her lower abdomen. Eyes closed, her head tipped towards the ceiling, getting lost in the sensations. He returned to sucking her gently before tugging it in between his teeth.

As he felt her body tense up, he sucked harder, nibbling  - driving her into madness.

“I n-need you in me.”

Stephen pulled back and set her loose. “Condoms’ in the bottom drawer,” he informed, leaning back on the headboard.

Y/N leaned down, opened the said drawer and sucked in a sharp breath glancing at the contents. She had never been much into toys. And he had quite the collection. She grabbed the least complicated appliances of all and a bottle of lube.

“I have never tried this before but… the idea… I would like to try this,” she said toying with the cuffs and the cockring.

Strange smiled at her, “Anything that makes you happy baby girl.” He kissed her one more time, tugging at the cuffs.

“What?” He asked, confused when Y/N didn’t hand them over.

“I wasn’t thinking about myself tied to your bed. I want to restrain you.”

He was swept away by utter bewilderment. No one had done that. To him. Ever. I have always been the giver. Never the taker, he thought. He has been so lost he didn’t realise she had already cuffed one of his wrists to the bedpost until Y/N tugged at his other one.

“Besides, I think it’s fair after what you did to me.”

“Fuck,” Stephen muttered under his breath, straining the restraints, “Thought I was already forgiven.”

“You are. This is a penance.”

“Fine, have me as you like,” he snorted.

She smiled, settling in between his legs and leaned in to kiss which he happily complied. He groaned into her mouth as she slid her hand down his chest and squeezed his growing erection through the sweatpants.

She pulled back only to let her lips roam around his neck, shoulder and chest. Working her way up, she blew a warm breath over his ears, kissing the shell while her fingers gently pinched and teased his nipples.

“Jesus,” Stephen moaned, “Woman where have you been all these years?”

Y/N smiled, resting her hands at his waist, teasing the waistband of his pants, “Learning the anatomy of pleasing you.”

Stephen chuckled, raising his hips for her to pull down the pants. He sighed in relief as his cock sprang free.

She bit her lip at his knowing smirk, lubed him and slid the ring to the base of his shaft. He was big. And thick, she thought, lowering herself on her stomach as she pumped him before turning on the vibrations.

He groaned, the muscles of his leg going all stiff as her tongue darted out and swirled around the head. She continued to lick, peppering kisses, along the length of him. He hissed, buckling his hips, as her mouth licked and sucked his balls.

Y/N smiled, stepping up the speed of vibrations.

“I might lose my patience and use- fuck.”

She took as much as possible of him in one swift go. Her eyes watched him throwing his head back and wincing upon hitting the headboard. I’ll never forget this one. She had been nervous - Would I be able to give him enough pleasure with so little experience? However as her mouth squeezed, caressing up and down, satisfaction burned on his handsome face.

Stephen sat there entrapped, watching her head bobbing, one hand stroking what length of him she couldn't fit in her mouth and the vibrating ring… He continued tugging now and then against the hard metal of the handcuffs even though the wrists burned in pain. He never thought he would like this so much. Oh, her nails, dug into his thigh.

“You're taking me so well, sweetheart-,”

He took a sharp breath, gasping as he felt her teeth gaze at him very gently. She looked up at him, all doe-eyed, flickering her tongue on the underside of his cock.

He wanted to break free, caress her hollowed cheeks, pull her hair to the back, and wantonly fuck that mouth. “Oh, my,” he grunted, feeling himself near the base of her throat. His hips thrusted of their own accord. “I’m so close.”

Y/N stopped immediately. “No,” he cried out at her. She gave him a slow, devilish grin. And sat up, scrambling away from him. It took a tremendous amount of effort when every bit of her ached for him.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled watching her climb out of the bed, relaxing into one of the armchairs beside the bed, across the fireplace.

“I’ll let you come only when you beg nicely.”

“I don’t beg,” Stephen snapped.

Y/N shrugged. She flaunted the control before turning down the strength of the vibrations.

Stephen strained his neck as he continued to glare at her. “You’ll be punished for this baby girl.”

She gulped looking at his darkened eyes. “I-is that so?” Don't be intimidated, she reminded herself.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then ran her hand down her stomach and in between her legs. She spread her knees and slowly began touching herself. She closed her eyes, knowing that he was watching her every movement, she imagined it was his fingers stroking the bundle of nerves. She smiled wider when she slipped her fingers into her slick slit.

How have I turned into such sex hungry woman?

“I could do better,” he voiced once she started to whimper. She wanted him to but she didn’t want to halt now. Not when she-

She shivered as the wave of heat washed over her.

When she opened her eyes, Stephen was staring at her hungrily, but strangely patient. “Since you are done with yourself, you might finish what you’d started,” he said with a pointed look. “Please,” he added.

Y/N sighed. Still, a little wobbly from the orgasm, she settled in between his legs. He relaxed back watching her slide off the cockring. She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, squeezing him, while her tongue played around following each line, curve and crevice, as he was the most teasing appetiser imaginable.

Stephen let out a deep low moan, thrusting his hips upwards.

He cursed under his breath as her mouth sheathed him, working him up again.

“Y/N,” he grunted, thrusting his hips in a slow rhythm. Leaving his cock, her hand rubbed his thighs before cupping the balls.

“Don’t stop,” Stephen whimpered as she quickened the pace.

“You look so pretty like this. Guess you’d look better only when my cock goes rampant in that pussy.”

He had been silent most of the time except for the few noises he made, she almost choked at his filthy words. Looking up at him she couldn't think it possible, but those light grey eyes darkened even further when her fingers trailed below his scrotum, applying subtle pressure around the perineum. He jerked in her mouth when she found his sweet spot.

“Yeah,” he moaned, “S-so close.”

Amazed by her own boldness, she stroked him harder.

His insides were screaming guttural exhilaration. He was sure he would go crazy by the time they were going to finish. His hips jerked unsteadily, grinding against her mouth until everything stilled.

It was more and more. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes as she choked on the sheer volume of his semen. Her throat was already full and his ejaculation was nowhere near an end. Lots of it, as if he hadn’t come in months, years, maybe never.

“That was ethereal,” he breathed, “you tortured me so sweetly…”

Y/N smiled, wiping away the drips of cum lining her mouth. “I’m glad you liked it,” she sat up and kissed him. It was slow and gentle at first, their lips moving languidly. When he kissed her harder, she threaded her hands through his hair, pressing herself further against his hot, slick body.

He cast a simple spell after it was too much to bear. She grasped when hands clutched her waist, moving her around. He settled her amongst the pillows. “You have no idea what it took not to break free of those cuffs and fuck you as animals do.”

However before she could say anything he reached beneath, pinching her clit hard, until it hardly even felt like it was a special nub, but something else entirely. “Now, it's my turn to return the favour.” His looming figure left to reach out into the drawers. He snapped his fingers and a red cloth blinded her. “And torment you in the sweetest way possible.”

Stephen stroked her thighs, gradually sliding his hand up until he touched that heated core of her womanhood.

“Oh, doctor!”

“Do you like that, baby?”

She nodded wordlessly.

He put his head between her legs, nuzzling at first. His beard was a little rough on the insides of her thighs. He stroked her with skilful fingers. Then with his lips, and his tongue, he struck fire. A slow, fat lick brought his tongue to her aching button, and as soon as he touched tip to tip, white light exploded through her. His skilful tongue rubbed, nudged, and poked in a rhythm like a giant pulse. She cried out in astonishment, in appreciation at being touched in that right place.

Y/N’s legs twined about his head and shoulders desperately, she was beginning to buck her hips, beginning to come. She bit her lip to suppress a moan as her skin exploded into flames. Holy fuck, Stephen.

“Let me hear those noises, sweetheart,” he crooned against her sensitive flesh, making her wither under his subsequent licks.

She moaned gutturally, her hands grasping fistfuls of the sheet on either side of her hips as a shudder shook her head to toe.

Stephen smiled and gently began to pet her with his fingers. He glided one finger along the gaping cleft, then very slowly and gently penetrated her. Y/N whimpered. He touched her lightly at first, testing her with one finger, moving carefully. Then he stretched her with two fingers, curling them upward as his thumb began to rub tiny circles. He never took his eyes away from her, listening to her breathing speed as his curled fingers found her spot inside. He bowed his head in admiration, bringing his lips to the top of her inner thigh, teasing her before taking the flesh into his mouth and sucking with abandon, while continuing the movements of his hand. It was an extraordinary combination.

Y/N put her own hands on her breasts and her palms rotated the nipples.

He took her again in his mouth until she was weak and quivering, fondling her breasts until they were swollen with hot blood, the nipples stiff.

She tightened even more around his stroking finger and he increased the speed and depth of the thrusts. She reached the peak swiftly, spasms of her pleasure shuddering through her entire body, pelvis rising from the bed as if seeking something in the air.

He reached up his free hand to rub her quivering belly and fondle her breasts. She jerked and made a little sound, and he raised his head to look down at her. Heat bloomed over her cheeks as his thumb brushed over her nipple.

Yes,” she whispered, all her senses hyper-focused on the overwhelming touches.

Stephen kissed her, his mouth skimming over her taut abdomen. 

“Harder,” she pleaded but he paid no heads.

He was kneading her breast gently, and when his mouth finally reached her nipple and closed over it, she moaned and clutched at his shoulders, her hip bucking against his fingers, her senses nearly drowned by the waves and waves of burning pleasure.

Along with those waves came those strange creatures: gratitude and hunger. Gratitude at being touched in the right place, in the way, at the right time. Hunger for something she was after, something she was trying to achieve, and there was always the danger that she’d miss it, wouldn’t find it, or get hold of it. She couldn’t get enough of him. It felt like a punishment.

A silent invisible wave squeezed and squeezed her hot throbbing sex. She felt her entire abdominal area cramp as it would during her period. It was like the sweet torment he had warned her about. Anytime now, she thought, I would burst like a sea fish held under the tap water.

The entire torrent, the pulsing flood of sensation, sent her over an unseen barrier, and she slid, throbbing, down, down, down into hot squeezing pulsing incognizance.

“Oh my God, Stephen,” she squealed as a spray of fluid came gushing out of her pussy and soaked the sheets beneath them.

“Had told you,” he whispered near her ear, “I could do better.”

After regaining some of her senses, she tugged free of the blindfold. As her eyes adjusted, she saw him emerging from the washroom, drying his hands in a towel.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, tears blurring her vision.

Stephen immediately went to her on the bed and scooped her up into his strong arms. “What's the matter, baby?”

“The bed’s a mess,” she cried, burying her face in her hands, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s just a little wet, it’s no big deal. Are you…are you embarrassed about squirting?”

He watched her face turn red with shame beneath her hands, and he gently pulled them away from her face, shaking his head at her.

“No, no. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I loved it. It’s so fucking hot. It meant I had given you the most pleasure.”

Once he was sure she was over the edge, he asked her to lie on her stomach and wait for him. He held an unfamiliar bottle, squeezing out a generous amount of lube into his palm, then bending over and rummaging through his toys.

She swallowed hard glancing at the beaded silicone toy, “I couldn't take that…”

“Have you ever tried?”

She shook her head.

“It won't be nasty,” he said, “trust me.”

“I want to but that thing is scary.”

He obliged, tossing it back from where it came and settled, parting her legs.

“Tell me when it gets uncomfortable,” he said, sliding his fingers between her legs. She nodded into the pillow, mumbling okay.

The fingers of his right hand trailed through her cleft, gathering up her arousal, and then continued its indecent path up, slipping between her cheeks. He swirled over the taboo spot, each circle smaller than the previous one until the tip of his index finger was there, pushing gently to gain entrance.

“How does it feel?”

“Weird.”

Her breath came out stuttered. He was naughty and corrupt. But he stopped the movements at once.

“There are a lot of nerve endings here.” His finger resumed its swirling, proving his point. “Trust me sweetheart I won’t be doing anything that could remotely hurt you. And I would stop whenever you want me to.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

A shudder rolled down her body as his finger probed the ring of muscles.

“Squeeze and relax,” he guided.

She did as instructed, making little ‘uhs’, as his finger slipped through the virgin muscles of her asshole.

Shame and euphoria battled in her mind as his finger slowly, gently thrusted in her. Her thoughts swirled wondering how she ended up here. She was supposed to be on the giving end. Giving him penance. Instead, he was in charge, finger fucking her ass.

With no warning, she climbed the cliff and jumped off as heat bloomed from deep within her.

Y/N felt tired and sore but she didn’t care. She couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted him inside her. She wanted the ache. She wanted to squeeze him in. She wanted to watch his face. She wanted him in ways she had never wanted anyone before. It was like something had been invented. By him in that very bed. Or something he had unleashed. It was something raw she couldn’t put her finger on.

Finally, when he returned to her side, she got on top of him like her original plan. Her palms rested on his chest, as her hips moved to press and rub her swollen lips against his groin.

She’d never done it before. And couldn’t really believe she was doing this. It felt like she was in charge.

He watched with a hooded gaze as she reached back, held him and tried to put him in.

“Condom,” he reminded her but she denied it.

“I’m clean of STDs if that’s what you are worried about,” she spoke, guiding him in. She was so hot and wet, he slipped in faster and deeper than she anticipated.

“The way you came over my fingers, I can guarantee that you have barely ever fucked anyone.”

She snorted and squeezed her muscles making him hiss.

“I don't want you to get preg-”

“I’m on birth control for medical reasons.” She squeezed him again, “Can you come? Just from this?”

Stephen smirked. “I might if you try harder and longer.”

She continued to clench around him, rotating her hips, and rocking softly until he went mad. He bucked, splitting her in two. His hand flew to her waist, holding her body, lifted her off and drove her down impaling on his cock.

One thrust was enough to have her addicted, he knew that well, so he let his hands rest under his head.

She repeated the action, again and again, ramming herself down on him. Her thighs burned with the exertion. Sweat dampened her forehead and hair as she rode him, her breasts bouncing between the force of gravity and the thrusts. However, she was getting fatigued.

She gave in when his strong, capable hands wrapped around her and pulled him closer towards him. Her head rested on his chest as his hands caressed her back. Then he slammed into her, so deeply, she thought it couldn’t be possible. Wordlessly he proved her mistaken as he did it again and likewise. It felt like he was making her from the inside out. He speared her, plunged inside her, crushing her into him.

She was close and could tell by the way the muscles in his chest tightened, he was close too. She saw his jaw bulging as he gritted his teeth, trying to keep from coming as long as he could. She wanted him to come. To lose control. Just like she had.

Closing her eyes, Y/N channelled the heat of her orgasm to squeeze him, and at just that moment, she felt his cock jump inside my body, seemingly growing even bigger than it had been, then half a second later blasting his hot semen inside her.

Somehow, after many minutes of silence, they smiled at each other and laughed.

“We should do it another time at least,” she said, finger doodling on his bicep.

“Studying or having sex?”

“Both,” Y/N replied, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

Stephen hummed in agreement, “We should do it regularly.”