The Other Times

America Chavez has been to seventy three different versions of the universe.

Strange knows about three. It occurred to him that there were seventy other instances that she felt such intense fear, enough to cause a portal to appear and save her from the threat. It was a defense mechanism.

“You’re staring,” America pointed out. Her tone sounded quipped and sleep deprived. She was hunched over the same work book for the last hour and a half. Her tongue had been sticking out of her teeth as she grappled with the algebra equations, that was until she noticed Stephen’s gaze was resting and unfocused on her. He seemed far away.

He frowned slightly, clearing his throat and adjusting with his own book, scowling at the pages and trying not to let his mind wonder.

America rose a brow but didn't push it, bringing her attention back to the pages. They agreed to a chapter a week and then he’d portal them to any block that had pizza in a fifteen foot radius. Between training at the temple and cruising through a homeschooling program at the Sanctum, America was feeling the unnerved, tangled mess of anxious energy. She bounced her leg under the table and mentally grappled her attention back to the page.

Only now she was curious. Anxious and curious. Her nose scrunched as she peered up again at him. Strange was also trying to concentrate but his thoughts felt attacked. Like they were magnetized and being drawn to the worst possible scenarios.

“Careful, your face might get stuck like that,” America repeated back what Strange had said to her a few weeks ago, after a glare had squinted her eyes and flattened her lips.

“Funny,” Stephen deadpanned, briefly glancing up from the old script. Her eyes were soft and inquisitive, soaking in every worry line that deepened on his face. He briefly pinched his eyes closed, barring his imagination from seeping into him any further. He needed to read this damn book.

“Is something wrong?” She finally managed to get out. Her voice was much softer and just loud enough not to be considered a whisper. When they made eye contact again, Stephen noticed her slight squirm on the chair. “Did I... Do something?”

“What?” he swallowed against the lump in his throat before setting the book on the table between them. “No, no. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“You seem kinda... I don't know, off.” She was fidgetting now every couple of seconds, her eyes darting from him to something around the room, back to him.

He sighed, rubbing his temple briefly. Since acquiring that pesky third eye, he was getting a lot more headaches. “I was thinking about how far you've come since you came here. You’ve improved so much in such a short time.”

Chavez was trying to subdue the blush on her cheeks by adjusting her necklace back and forth. There was a bashful smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“But I still worry you might accidentally make a jump again.”

Her expression fell. She dropped her hands in her lap and gripped the excess fabric on her t-shirt. “Me too,” she admits in a mumble.

There was a beat of silence between them. “Why don’t we take a break and watch a movie?”

As quickly as her expression had sunk, she beamed with a newfound energy. “Really? It’s my turn to pick, yknow.”

Stephen playfully grimaced, contorting his fingers once to simultaneously close both books. His let out a tiny puff of dust when he did so. “Hopefully something better than last time.”

“I liked Scooby Do!” She began wiggling out of her chair. “And it’s totally not because I have a crush on Sarah Michelle Gellar.”

“Sure,” he groaned, already regretting this decision. They shuffled to the couch. Strange didn’t have a tv but he did have a laptop and after their movie nights became semi-routine, he dug out a small projector. (The Sorcerer Supreme sometimes made PowerPoint slides)

He shuffled around the room, dimming lights and rehanging the folded up white sheet as America giddily searched through the movie selection, scrolling on the screen. “Ooh!” She exclaimed after a moment. “I have an idea.” A crease formed between her eyebrows as she took a moment to move her hand in a circle. A small portal formed, enough for America to stick her arm through a pull out a bag of popcorn that Stephen recognized from their pantry.

“The kitchen is right down the hall,” he chastised, adding an eye roll as she dramatically chomped a handful. “Well? Am I suffering through an hour and a half of something or what?” He gestured with his hands in a shooing motion for her to make room before he sat down. He squinted at the computer screen. “Jaws?”

“Yeah. Is that okay? Wong said it was a classic, but I don’t really know anything about it.”

Stephen nodded, not missing as she flashed a grin and pressed the play button.

They were not particularly far into the movie when America began inching closer to Stephen. He noticed it after the first death scene but made no mention of it.

By the time the movie was at the half way mark, she was pressed into his side. partially covering her eyes with her fingers. It was when she yelped at a jump scare that Stephen leaned forward and paused the movie.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly when he looked back at her. America’s chest was rising quickly and her face looked pale. “Really. It just surprised me.”

“We don’t have to finish,” he said gently. She sheepishly pulled at the fabric of her sweats.

“No.. no, I’m okay, really. Pinky promise.”

Stephen tapped the space bar and sat back into the mold of himself he was making on the couch. She reglued herself to his side.

As the movie progressed, so did Stephen’s concern. He finally shut the laptop when America leaped from the couch when the shark emerged from the water. Popcorn flung from the bag and scattered on the floor.

He was waiting for sparks, scanning for the blue eruption of the star shaped rip in reality. Nothing came but America was visibly shaken, huffing and glassy eyed. He snapped his fingers and window shades opened and the lights came on.

“Why aren't sharks more of a problem? Shouldn't people be more worried? I see boats on the ocean all the time. People swim! Just last week Wong took the students to the beach.” She paced in front of him as she ranted.

“America,” Stephen tried to cut in. She wasn't done yet.

“I went surfing, Stephen. There couldve been one watching us. Waiting. I'm never going in the water again.”

“Sweetheart,” he interjected. “It's just a movie, okay? It freaked out a lot of kids--people-- when it first came out.” He corrected himself when America threw him an insidious look at the phase ‘kids.’

She sank back onto the couch beside him, plucking the bag of popcorn from the floor and tossing it on the coffee table in front of them. “You can't tell Wong I got scared at a movie,” she says finally. Stephen let's out a nasalled chuckle.

Then that thought tugged at the back of his mind again. “We never really talked about the other times you've opened a portal.”

“Random,” she says with a mouth half full of popcorn. She frowns at him, swallowing half chewed mush. “Is that what was bothering you earlier? Before the movie?”

He pinched his lips closed for a moment, contemplating how to cautiously tread into this conversation. He needed to know more but he didn't know if he wanted to. “You don't have to tell me everything now. We can work through it together.”

There was a long pause of silence and Stephen wondered whether she’d say anything at all. She brought her legs up to her chest and leaned her cheek into her knee, facing him. “Well, when I was little, I would get scared at just about anything. I jumped universes like twenty times in my first year away from home. Loud noises scared me. People. Uhm... Oh! Once this dog barked and I literally portalled right then and there.”

Stephen gave a small smile and nodded along.

“Then, I dunno. I guess I was less scared. It took more to make me portal. I remember, well I don't remember if it was the thirty fourth or thirty fifth universe, but food wasn't free there either. This cop grabbed my arm and tried to pull me inside his car and I screamed and portalled me and his car aaaand the hot dog cart I took food from.”

She was scurting around the ones that were more painful. They both knew it. She began to hesitate as her chest tightened. America picked at her socks.

“After that I was in worlds for longer. The longest I was ever in one place was almost a year. I was living with a really nice family but they.. They couldn't take care of me after...” America trailed off and shook her head, something lodged in her throat.

“It's alright,” he reassured. “Take your time.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes, clinging to her bottom lash. “Let's just say that some of the monsters that came after me were people.”

A tightness squeezed inside Stephen’s chest. He knew she was hurt and probably still hurting from the aftermath of practically being homeless for seven years. She let out a tiny sniffle and immediately covered her face in her knees. “Okay, okay. It's alright. You’re safe now,” as he soothed, he scooped her entire body into him.

“Stephen…” she murmured into his robes after a moment, he loosened his hold enough that she could peak her head out more. Her cheeks were blotchy. “Do you know anything about the TVA?”