Chapter 2
“The TVA?” Stephen repeated, still loosely holding on to her until she wiggled completely out. His arms felt heavy at his sides.
She scratched her forehead, frowning at the space between them. “Uh,” she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “They were kind of like the multiverse cops. I guess.” She wiped the stray cheeks with the back of her wrists.
Again, Stephen’s hand rubbed his temple. He spotted three new grey hairs in the last week, no doubt from the constant mind numbingness of his newfound parenthood. It took him a while to come to terms with that phrase. Parenthood.
He was reluctant at first, though that reluctancy lasted less than a week, when she made her first semi-functional portal in his office and beamed the brightest grin for the .5 seconds it was open. He accepted her under his tutelage, after Wong suggested that she’d benefit from more one on one training.
“Multiversal cops? Why are we just now discussing this?”
“I--” she sputtered, tucking further into herself on the couch. He used his former-sorcerer-supreme-Dr. Strange voice, the tone was grating. Whether he noticed or not, his expression softened. “I sort of thought you guys knew. Other you knew.”
He let out a tiny sigh. “Okay. So multiversal cops, what happened with them?”
America blew rasberries with her lips. “I had a few different encounters with them. They kind of dressed—well— remember in Star Wars those guys in white?”
“The storm troopers?” Stephen tried not to roll his eyes. She couldn’t ever get right to the point, with any story.
America bobbed her head. “They wore those kinds of outfits. But in black. Uh.. armadura. Anyways, they were trying to take me. I don’t know where, we never made it that far, but they said something about a nexus.”
Stephen groaned, coming to his feet with a pop in his knees to remind him of his own mortality. “I need to talk to Wong.”
“Wait, do you know something?” She shuffled to stand. She was ready to beeline to her bedroom for her jacket and boots. Oh! She could portal there. Gosh, she always forgot that was an option.
She has her hand up to start when Stephen gently pushes it down. Her frown is telling. He tsked. “It’s late. You should be in bed by now.”
“It’s literally eleven thirty,” America groaned after peaking dramatically at the pink flower watch that came directly from a cereal box (she was ecstatic that morning, “now we match.” America told him, slapping it on her wrist).
“It’s late,” he repeated, a sternness settling. “I promise I’ll be right back.” The cloak had drifted from the other room and hugged his shoulders.
America’s shoulders drooped dramatically and she jutted her bottom lip out to emphasize her disagreement. She was one foot stomp away from a total tantrum. “It’s not fair.”
Stephen internally wrestled with the idea of caving and letting her tag along, but he hadn’t known what information Wong may have. He didn’t need her hearing something to set her off. Instead, Stephen negotiated with the enemy, offering, “I can make it up to you tomorrow.”
Her pleading puppy dog eyes disappeared not a second after the words left his lips. She straightened and a playful smile toyed with the corners of her mouth. “Okay, that means anything right?”
“Within reason,” he added quickly, getting ready to turn and make the portal to Kamar-Taj. “But you need to be asleep by the time I come back. Brushed teeth and everything.”
“I always brush my teeth! I’m not a child.”
“Yeah okay. Goodnight.” He shouted over his shoulder as the golden sparks formed a perfect sized circle. He heard her briefly mumble back before he stepped onto the cobblestone court yard. Their comfortable weekend nest of book reading, movie watching, and tea drinking had disappeared behind him, leaving Strange in the sleepy ruins of Kamar-Taj.
Since the whole Spider-Man-Multiverse incident that Strange vaguely remembered, he’s been scrounging up anything on the multiverse and more so when America came into his life. He knew what a nexus event was, though not necessarily what that would have to do with America.
The temple was never quiet fully asleep. A group always stood guard. Students stayed up late studying or practicing. If Wong wasn’t taking up any late night karaoke, he’d be here too.
Dr. Strange presence commanded attention, and it was only partially due to his brooding scowl. The cloak liked to flow side to side, taking up the entire walk way. He made his way through the halls.
The first month that America was with them, she stayed here. She had a room and a bed, and for someone that had been running for so long, it was everything.
Wong and America frequently made fun of Strange, to his face, in Spanish. (“You’re a whole ass Neurologist. You should just learn it.” To which he gave a pointed look and commented on her language because that was the only thing he could chastise her on.)
Sauntering through the halls, the memories of him struggling to learn basic spells and grapple with his mangled hands were blurred and muted by the new ones. America groaning in frustration, trailing behind him and complaining about how there isn’t any pizza at the temple and can they please go on a field trip.
He felt like he could almost hear her through the walls as he closed the distance between himself and the library.
“Stephen?” Wong questioned after the door flung open and Wong peered up from his book. He had a margarita glass in one hand and ancient text in another.
“We need to talk.”