#timestonegone

Kurt relaxed in the rafters of the barn, avoiding the chaos that was happening in the rest of the stone. He wanted to fix what he had done, but he didn’t trust himself not to be pulled back into the fray. He didn’t trust himself not to do the wrong thing and help the wrong side. Again. Instead, he sat and did nothing.

Very few knew Kurt was here and he didn’t mind that. Sif knew and she would visit him occasionally. Gwen had crashed through the roof, so she knew and she had most likely told Jean. That thought caused him to almost run and find a new place. He hadn’t wanted to face Jean again. She hadn’t been angry with him after she’d helped free him from Selene’s influence. She might have forgiven him for what he did, but Kurt hadn’t. 

Kurt also hadn’t forgiven himself for what he’d done to Stephen Strange. He wanted to find the wizard again and apologize to him. He hoped Stephen knew that he hadn’t done those things of his own freewill, but such an excuse seemed hollow when he’d been warned so much about avoiding Selene in the first place.

Kurt heard someone enter the barn and he shifted to see who it was, his stomach dropping at the possibilities.

   “   just ... because someone stumbles and loses their path , doesn’t mean they’re lost forever. “  he has said this , mostly to himself.  again and again.  the way it stuck to his tongue , unappealing and bland - might resonate in the lurking fear that charles is killing his own morals and beliefs as they attempt to be his beacon of light.    charles has continuously reminded himself that he’s not lost , this has just occurred in a terrible passing. what a denial.   his mind .. it’s not working. he doesn’t believe in himself anymore , and would rather step into that door consumed by darkness.  

  he’d gone to see stephen because he fears this is really ... it.  the last strand of hope , whatever that was anymore ─ charles imagined stephen had some answers. 

   “ the last time i slept , i don’t .. think i was actually sleeping i was ─ reaching for a door handle ... saw that it was ajar , “  he pauses , brows furrowing in thought.  “ but i never had to open my eyes , they’d already been open and i was just ... i stood as if i’d not been in my body,  my mind it’s - “  he looks up , voice wavering as he motions to his temple.  “ i can’t tell what’s real anymore. “ 

        ' ... PAPA, can you hear me? ’ 

the tone of his voice is somewhat mournful, the only noise in an otherwise quiet environment right now. he’s seen a few people since he’s been here, but the only person he really gives any kind of shit about is vanessa. but of course, she doesn’t give two shits about him because she doesn’t even remember who he is. it’s not like they’re engaged or anything. 

oh wait. 

either way, there’s not really much he can do about it, other than sit here and continue to lament about the fact that disney totally stole the melody of ‘do you wanna build a snowman?’ from yentl. yes, he may have spent almost a whole film talking about this, but he’s not over it, okay?

it’s not like he’s got anything better to do right now. he could annoy logan some more, but he really doesn’t fancy getting eaten by a lion today, thanks very much. 

Daredevil could smell the blood, but he couldn’t hear what was causing the death and destruction. Worried, he made his way through the environment, leaping from structure to structure when able and finally alighting on a close by building.

He could only sense how the creature stood calmly in the waters. He couldn’t see how the water turned to blood around it, but he could smell the stench of death as the thing continued to wade in the melted snow. 

What was it?

The creature seemed to sense Daredevil and it threw out a hand at him. He dove to the side and a spray of bloody water washed over where he’d been crouching. It chased him, with the water and he continued to keep out of the way until he reached the other side of a building. It paused for a long moment and spoke to him in a language he didn’t understand. He shook his head, having no idea what language it even could have used. 

“Sorry, I don’t speak asshole!” he called to it before he stepped out of cover, threw his billy club, and dove to the side. Just as he suspected, the creature tried for the water again and ignored the club when it looked like it had been thrown wide. The club ricocheted and and struck the creature in the back of the head. He caught the club and found more cover. 

   each step has revealed itself to become more and more heavy ─ due to the exhaustion of withholding that darker power. charles should know better. he should be , that beacon of light. they look at him , the see ... they know now ; and truthfully it’s all catching up to him.

a nervous tick reminds him that the clock has a limit , as does he. the inner conscious shouldn’t be battling him now , but it is and nothing can quite answer the cause. charles thinks of the imbalance and aims for that theory.  finding stephen  wasn’t insanely hard , though it must’ve been feeling ages in between from the time charles last saw him , to the middle of when he decided to take a break from the existence of everyone inside the stone.  a hard , almost angry grin had crossed him in the moment.  “ i’ve tortured many of them , stephen ─ on the receiving end ? i still feel it all , “  he exhales sharply. 

 “ though i’ve ─ i’ve ...  truly been here before. ONSLAUGHT , don’t believe i’ve ever mentioned that before have i,  “ 

this change in weather is going to absolutely ruin his image. how are you expected to wear a stunning leaf bikini when the weather’s below freezing? exactly. you’re not. but he remembers hearing something once mentioning the fact that stephen strange can manifest things out of thin air, or some shit like that, like he’s a party magician that’s actually legit.

when wade finally finds stephen, he’s shivering a little bit, arms wrapped around himself to try and keep as much warmth in as possible, and to try and help his tremors subside a little bit. it sucks, really, that his pain tolerance is so high and yet the feeling of cold just seems to permeate down deep within his bones. and not even the fact that his body is 99.9% scar tissue does much to keep the warmth in. if anything, he feels the cold more. thanks for ruining his dreams of snowboarding naked, weapon x project. you suck ass.

Bruce really needed to sit down for a minute.  It wasn't the first time he spent most of the day on his feet, but he hated to admit that he was getting too old for this kind of thing.  He looked for a decent place to sit and sighed as he relaxed on the ground.

After a moment he digs in the medic kit for some pills then got into his other bag for food and a notebook.  Once he took the pills he did a quick look around.  It surprised him to see a familiar face.

"Stephen," he called waving at him.  It was difficult for him to mentally adjust to the fact that one of the most gifted neurosurgeons in the world was somehow a real life wizard.  It said something about the kind of things he'd seen in the last several years that the wizard part was even a blip on his radar.  As soon as he had a moment he'd work on some convoluted explanation that lined everything up with science in a very tidy manner.  Okay, so he was still working on explaining his own condition, but he wasn't about to dwell on that.