It was meant to be a simple rouge sorcerer. Nothing more, nothing less. So, as America and Stephen Strange were now fighting around 20 of them, why were they struggling? Why were there so many?
It was one of the rare times where America has been allowed to go with Strange on a mission, and somehow, she had the feeling it was going to be a while until she would be allowed onto her next.
She let out a grunt as she felt a weak spell hit her. “These are more than I thought” she muttered, before blasting another spell, sending one of the rogues flying. In the corner of her eye, she saw Stephen blast 5 of the bastards into the closest wall. A grin spread onto her face.
With newfound motivation, she threw herself into the fight.
First mistake.
She neglected her defence.
Second mistake.
She missed one of the sorcerers getting to her back.
Third, and last mistake.
She didn’t notice the spell until it hit her. Black spots started dancing around her vision, and she fell to the ground. In the distance she was able to hear Stephen call for her, but her ears were ringing. She wanted to say something but found that she couldn’t.
She thinks she blacked out for a bit, because when she came back to, Stephen was standing above her. “Kid? Are you alright?” he asked worriedly, and he quickly helped her sit up. America tried to answer but found she couldn’t. She helplessly opened and closed her mouth. “Kid?” Stephen asked, frowning, and he watched her face carefully. America tried to tell him what was going on, she really did, but she couldn’t, for some reason.
Fuck. The spell.
America pointed at the sorcerer who casted the spell, then at her throat, and at last mimicked a cross. Stephen quickly understood what was going on, a small oh leaving him.
“Come on, let´s get you to the Sanctum” he muttered, before helping America sit up, and walking alongside her, back towards their home.
***
“Okay. So, I don’t exactly know which spell he used. We´ll need another form of communication until then” Stephen uttered, and America hummed, before quickly getting a notebook and a pen. Stephen let out a huff. “Right, okay. I´ll be in the study if you need me” he muttered, before leaving the room, leaving America alone.
She frowned.
What was she supposed to do alone, with no way of talking?
Well. She could read books... Or watch movies... Or go on a walk...
***
For the next few days, Stephen was barely able to talk to America. And she understood! She really did. But not being able to talk and being alone was just... Not the best feeling.
So, after getting brushed off once again, she went outside to take a breather.
Fuck.
She knew that Stephen was only doing this to help her, but... These past few days she has been fucking alone. She watched the birds chirp nearby and felt jealous. Because they were able to make noises.
America was not.
***
“America?” Stephen called into the sanctum, but no answer came.
He frowned.
“Kiddo? Are you here?” he called, louder this time. Nothing.
He quickly rushed through the halls. What if she was hurt? What if an accident happened? What if-
Before he could finish that thought, he rushed into someone, and he quickly realised it was America. He let out a relieved sigh. “Here you are” he muttered, and America gave him an apologetic look.
“I still haven´t found a reverse spell” he muttered, and he saw America deflate, before pulling out her notebook.
What if you won´t find anything at all?
Stephen´s eyes widened, and he didn’t even think twice before America was in his arms.
“Then I´d love you, just as much as now”