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thirstofgames · 3 years

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kitty and the jailbird

#️⃣2️⃣

-IT'S A MATCH-

A blank chat popped open and Damien stared at it for a second. He had honestly not expected it. The girl actually swiped him right. He looked at the clock impatiently; he did not have much time left in the library. There was a loud shout from the hallway, his muscles tensing, ready to hide the phone and bolt at any second.

He regretted that last question right as he pushed send. It sounded so bitter in his head now. It was a dating app after all and she was a good looking young woman.

you there?

...

hello?

busy flirting with your other matches, huh?

And there it was all about to end, the hot topic of his whereabouts. And the swift and cruel rejection that followed. It had already happened one too many times! Could he go through his again? Was it worth it? His palms were sweaty, but he never felt so cold. If the ground could just open up and swallow him whole before she finished asking...

No, sorry

Just a little surprised we matched

you can unmatch if you want

Well, what I want is to talk with you 😊

Your profile caught my eye

what part?

Your profile pic at first.

Most guys can't pull off the broken, deep and scowling thing

But... looks good on you.

you don't look so bad yourself-

but then I read your description...

and I have to know something

shoot 🙄

It was a simple Yes/No question, but it took Kate way to long to answer. She bit her lip, thinking hard on the possibilities. It was such an unfair question though. She was not going to leave, but was not going to pursue anything with him until she knew what he was in for and how long he was going to be locked up. She'd wasted enough years waiting up on others...

I'm just a little confused 🤔

Are you really in jail?

you gonna leave if I say yes?

It really depends...

A bittersweet smile spread on his lips. What was he expecting from a girl like her? She probably had a nice job, a supporting family and tons of friends and... an actual future. Why would she even consider wasting her time with him? The little time he had left... Better to just pull off the band aid!

She felt to bad! She hadn't meant to disregard his feelings, but wasn't it fair to let her know what she was getting into? She didn't even know what he was expecting from the conversation they were having... She was curious, but she didn’t want to lead him on.

okay, let's just say...

the orange pants and barbed wire are real

OMG

I have so mane questions 😱

here we go...

What did you do?

Wait, where do you even hide your phone?

STOP!

enough with the interrogation, alright?

I'm just curious...

sure, but i'm more than just a prisoner

a little respect goes a long way

Kate’s heart sank. He was hot, but the prison was a serious issue... She supposed people were not lining up to get to know him. He seemed pretty well rounded and mannered, but he was very defensive about his crime. Did that mean it was something really bad? But he was on a dating app... so maybe he was getting out soon?

You're right!

I'm so sorry 😓

Let's change the subject

Why don't you tell me what you're looking for

hmmm

What?

i'm thinking...

nobody's really asked me that before

Seriously?

most people stop talking to me when they find out i'm locked up

i don't really blame them. i'm rough around the edges.

She didn't say anything for a while and Damien started wondering if he should just close the damn phone and leave. He should also probably take a break from Lovelink after this... it clearly wasn't doing him any good. Dark thoughts swarmed his mind and he had to close his eyes and head his head back against the bookshelf to get rid of the harrowing feeling. Like he was falling in an endless pit...

The screen showed him typing and deleting several responses. Kate pursed her lips, impatient. Had she said anything wrong? She’d never spoken to someone who’d been locked up, she was still unsure what could trigger painful memories, or just remind him that he was... not free. But he said he just wanted to chat and his profile mentioned 'deep conversations'...

Okay, I'm not running away, for now

but...

But I can't really make up my mind

If I don't know anything about you

So...

alright

honestly I'm just looking to talk to someone from the outside

it can get pretty boring in here, just waiting around the clock

Let's be friends then 😊

I'll be your window to the outside world

If that's alright with you...?

Damien sighed on the other end. Beggars can’t be choosers. It was a step in the right direction though. Maybe he was not going to find the love of his life at the very fucking end of said life. He was not living in some fairytale! He was still going to die, alone and forgotten.

But maybe... just a little less alone at the very end of his road. One friend meant more than none and maybe, just maybe... he could tell her his side of the story. Eventually. She seemed patient and understanding enough. Let at least one person out there know he did not murder his own father.

sure

that's more than most

Of course a pretty thing like her got a lot on attention... She was only chatting up with him because the others were offline-

but it must have been pretty bad to be such a long sentence

you still can't tell me what the crime was?

look, i've been making my own rules my whole life

you better ask what crimes I DIDN'T do

wow...

i'm no bragging or anything, just letting you know where I'm at

anyways, I'm more interested in what you're all about

what are you doing on an app like this?

Honestly...

I was about to uninstall it right before we matched 😅

you already found the one?

or no luck at all?

Well, I went on a few nice dates...

i see

Suddenly his experience on the app seemed less awful. Maybe it was not the right place. Or perhaps it was just the place for a misfit like him, here with all the weirdoes and con artists.

And then they ditched me for their exes

Just my luck 😂

Oh and I swear to god if I see one more vampire 🙄 🙄 🙄 🙄 🙄

vampires?

Yeees

You wouldn't believe some of the things I saw...

OMG, one dude was actually dresses up as a centaur

I...

don't even want to ask

There's also the 'prince' scam going around

Dudes claiming to be the heirs of some

Made up countries and asking you for money

It wasn't quite a rejection, but it still hurt a little. She already mentioned twice she was only interested in him as friends. She didn't need to spell it out every few minutes! But she was the only one...

Met some nice people too ☺️

Actually became good friends with some

Which is nice since I just moved here

were did you come from?

Pallay 💜

you're a long way from home

I know 😢

I suppose it was getting kinda lonely

My friends and family come visit when they can

But that's not a lot...

what brought you here?

Got a really good job opportunity

But I didn't quite realize how far away I'd be

So yeah, to answer your question from before...

I'm kinda just chatting with new people

Made more friends than anything else lol

Hope that's aright with you 🤗

A smile crept on his lips. An actual, genuine smile. How long had it been since he had any reason to? God, it felt good to talk to someone! Someone who didn't know him, who didn't shout 'walking corpse' after him, didn't judge him. He almost felt like his old self. Almost.

i'm cool with that

Great!

Looking forward to getting to know you, Damien 😄

so let's get to it

tell me about yourself

hobbies, favorite food, anything

my hobbies are always changing 🤔

I start something new every month or so

Oh, and I started volunteering at a vet lately

🐱🐶💕

With a friend I made on this app

it suits you

Hmmmmm how would you know?

We've only just met

just a hunch

I could secretly be evil 😈

you couldn't hurt a fly

besides, I've seen evil and believe me

you're not it

I'm guessing you're not going to elaborate on that

Are you?

see, you know me so well already

Smartass 😝

At lest until she finds out.

And I love food 🤤

Who doesn't? lol

But picking a favorite is like... impossible

I do have one hell of a sweet tooth 🍫🍬🍦

I'm soooo jealous

I miss making my own meals

That's right! You probably just have a cafeteria.

I'm so sorry 😓

it's cool

i'm glad we have something in common

Is there any food you miss?

Wait... was there even steak in that picture? Kate felt her ears burning, the fluffy pajamas studently itching at her skin.

just makin my own in general, being in charge in the kitchen

Damien scrolled quickly through his phone, the memories leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He nearly didn’t send the photo. It felt like so long ago, a different time...a different person. But it felt so good to remember! To be reminded of the more happier moments when he had all his life ahead of him! And showing her a piece of his past may make her curious enough to stick around for a while longer.

He hit Send.

-Tap to download photo-

Looks... delicious

you like steak?

Oh yeah, the food 😳

Wish I could have a bite of that hahaha

So not so shy and innocent as she claimed. Good to know. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere, which he had to be realistic about - he was on death row after all - it was still fun. The most fun he’d had in a long while. It felt...nice.

HA!

i wish you could too 😏

The door of the library swung open hitting the opposite wall. The guard in charge could be heard arguing with someone. At least four voices. He had to move fast.

I'm really hungry now 😅

good

Kate stared at the screen, the little green light besides his profile picture going grey. She scrolled through the conversation as if to make sure she hadn’t just imagined it. She tapped the picture he’d sent, a small smile creeping on her lips. He looked so... normal. Well, more like smoking hot, but she expected some kind of dump, or some greasy repair shop, not Greek sculpture level abs. The boy should come with a warning! She was a sucker for bad boys, but had she gotten so bad that she was now considering a fucking convict? What if he was a murderer or something??

shit!

???

someone's coming

gotta hide my phone

talk soon

Be careful! 🙏🏻

Her ice cream, forgotten on the coffee table, had turned to soup.

What had she gotten herself into?

#lovelink #damien jones #kitty and the jailbird #austin russo #counterpart

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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years

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"This just gives me the creeps," I say setting down a ceramic figurine. It looked like it was a combination of a clown, a fairy, and an angel. It was super creepy. I go back to walking the house the boys and I were scoping out. "You guys got anything?" I ask getting back into the living room.

"Nothing but some creepy ass ceramic figurines," Deans yells from another part of the house. "Are we even sure this is a spirit?"

Sams voice came from the garage. "It's a spirit alright." I turned to see Sam holding something that had disgusting black ooze on it. "Ectoplasm."

I make a face. "Awe shit," I say. "I hate really pissed off spirits." I holster my gun and sit down on the wooden rocking chair. "What spirit would be so pissed off to attack a nice little old lady?" I ask.

"Any spirit," Dean says coming into the living room. "Most likely they knew each other at one point if the spirit is that pissed off." Dean holsters his gun and looks at me with a small smile. I can feel every hair on my neck stand up. Dean knew what he was doing to me and he loved to do it.

I realize that I was holding my breath and quickly stood up to only loose my balance and fall right in the direction of Dean Winchester. Dean caught me with that same smiled. "Thanks," I say pushing away from him. I turned to towards the door and saw Sams face. He knew I liked his brother and he knew that Dean liked to tease me. "Shut up." I say making my way to the door. "Lets just go back to the motel and get some research done. The faster we get this done the quicker we can go back home."

The boys agreed and followed me out to the impala. The drive back to the motel wasn't that long but Dean wanted to stop for food. Very typical of him. Dean could eat a whole cow and later want to another whole cow. When we arrived back at the motel, we all set to work on research on deaths in the city, county, and in that neighborhood. We also looked into the history of the house. Nothing. That was until I came across something that was fishy.

"Guys," I pick up my laptop and shoved in front of the boys. "Did you guys know that she was widowed about forty years ago. Her husband was killed when someone broke into their home. The case went cold. It says here that she didn't seem to shaken up about his death as she had claimed multiple times that he was abusing her. But no proof that he was. Even family and an exgirlfriend said that he would never do such a thing. Four months later she remarried his best friend. He died a few months ago of a heart attack which she was broken up over."

Dean and Sam look it over. "Does seem fishy," Sam says. "Maybe the dead husband is stuck to the woman and his punishing her." Dean shook his head as he silenced his phone for the millionth time.

"Or maybe the wife had an affair with the best friend and because during that time period divorce or leaving a spouse was frowned upon, she took it out on him and had the best friend kill him." Deans phone rang again and he silenced it again. Sam was thinking about the other possibility that the wife and best friend killed the possible ghost.

"Who the heck is calling you over and over again?" I ask.

"I don't know. The number looks familiar but it can wait until the case is over." Dean says getting up and getting a drink. "We go the house tonight and wait for the ghost to show up and talk with him. See where he's buried and salt and burn him." Deans phone rang again. I grabbed the phone before Dean could silence it again.

"Hello?" I answer the phone. "Dean Winchesters phone. Who am I speaking to?" Before I could get a name Dean took the phone from me.

"I'm sorry about that," Dean says. I could help but hear a female voice on the other end. Deans face turned white and he fell back into his seat. "Lisa?"

"Who's Lisa?" I ask turning to Sam whose face had surprise written all over it.

"An old flame," Sam says making eye contact with me. "We had Cas erase hers and her sons memories of Dean after a a demon kidnapped them and it went south. Lisa almost died."

I looked back at dean who had made his way out of the motel room. I followed him. "Lisa, calm down," Dean says. "I did what I did to protect you and Ben. It killed me to do that." Dean was quite for a bit then he spoke. "Okay, where do you want to meet? I can be there tomorrow. Then you can tell me how you remember." Dean turns around and sees me standing there. His face looked so pained. Like he was reliving the past. "Okay, wow thats close. I'll be there." he says and hangs up the phone.

"Are you okay?" I ask as Dean walks passed me.

"I'll be fine. I just need to meet Lisa. She why she remembers everything." Dean walks into the motel and I follow him in. We see Sam packing a bag.

"I found her dead husband, The one that was murdered." Sam puts a few rounds of rock salt into the bag.

"Okay well, I'm going to meet Lisa in Saint Louis. Its a few hours from here." Dean began to throw together a bag. "If anything happens call me and I will be there."

I grabbed a bag too and began to fill it. "I'm going with you. Just to make sure you dont do anything stupid." Both the boys stopped and looked at me. "You wont be able to talk me out of it."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. He knew that I was right and the look on his face looked like relief? Maybe? Who knew. I needed to know if this Lisa person was actually human or something that needs to die. I looked to Sam who saw my face and nodded. He understood why I was going.

"You guys go," Sam says slinging the bag over his shoulder. "I'll get a rental. If I need you guys, I'll call you." As sam walks passed you he leans in to whisper, "Make sure you bring him back. Do whatever you need to."

*******************************************

The drive to Saint Louis was super quiet. Dean of course has his music on but it was tense in the car. Dean still looked pained over all of it. I asked him he wanted to talk about it but he said no. So we just sat and drove. For four hours. Only stopping for food and the bathroom. I texted Sam a couple of times to tell him that Dean wasn't talking and asked about his time with Lisa. Sam just told me that Dean had spent over a year with them and that erasing their memories tore him apart. He never really spoke about it. I look at Dean and begin to feel super sorry for him.

"I know youre talking about me to Sam," Dean says pulling into a restaurant. A fancy one. This Lisa person was really trying to get him back, I thought. Even Deans face knew he would be out of place here.

"It's not too late to run," I lean over to Dean.

With that, Dean and I got out and walked into the restaurant. Even the severs dressed super nice. "Not to late," I whisper. Dean fakes laughs but I could tell that he was nervous and wasn't entirely sure about all of this.

"Dean?" a voice from behind makes the both of us turn around.

There stood a beautiful woman. Long brown hair and dark eyes. How did Dean ever land a woman like that? I ask myself. I could not compare to that beauty that was radiating off her. I look at Dean who was just staring at her. Lisa notices me and instantly I see something change in her eyes. Was it jealously?

"Lisa," Dean eventually chokes out. "You look amazing."

Lisa smiles a smile so big that I see one reason why Dean loved her. "Thank you, who's your friend?" She asks gesturing to me. I notice her manicured nails and look at my bitten and brittle nails. Still can't compete with her.

Dean is shocked back into reality. He turns to me and touches my shoulder. I look at him and see that he is looking me up and down with a smile on his face. I instantly blush and look at Lisa who clearly seeing the whole thing. Her eyes hardened. "This is YN," Dean says noticing Lisa's face. He slowly drop his hands.

"It's nice to meet you," Lisa says. "Will you be joining us?" She then asks. The tone is hardened too. I could tell that Dean heard it too.

"Well, sort of," I say smiling. "I'll be at the bar." I begin to slip away when Deans hand grabs my arm.

"Nope, you are sitting with us," Dean begins to pull me towards the waitress who had been waiting to sit us. In a low voice Dean whispered in my ear, "I need you by me for support."

Once we were seated and menus handed out. Dean, who is sitting next you, looks over the menu and then leans forward. "So," he says licking his lips. I notice Dean has a hard time looking at her in the eyes. "How's you get your memories back?" Whoa! To the point. Maybe Dean wouldn't go back to Lisa and her kid.

"Can't we order and eat and catch up first?" Lisa asks laughing nervously. "I mean, we have so much to talk about."

I look at Dean who is staring at the table. "Lis," he says. "There really isn't nothing to catch up on. I had yours and Bens memories of me and the life I live taken away from you. To protect you after you almost got killed. To protect Ben from ever having to go into this life. Just tell me how you got your memories back."

Lisa sits back and waves the waiter on the moment he arrives at the table. I make a small face because one, I need a strong drink for this and two, I was hungry and wanted a fat and juicy steak. "I guess you haven't changed much," she says. I rose an eyebrow and stare at Lisa.

"Whoa there," I say putting my hand on the table. "You don't know Dean at all. At least not anymore, so don't make comments like that because that makes you look like a bitch." Lisas eyes widened and I notice from the corner of my eyes Dean is looking at me. He doesn't cut in because he knows that once I start speaking like this, I won't stop until the thought is done. "I have been with the boys for two years. Deans past kills him. He has nightmare after nightmare some nights. He may be a dick at times but he has changed. So excuse him for wanting to know how you got your pathetic memories back. Now if excuse me, I need to splash my face with water or this water will end up in yours." I get up and let Dean know what to order me when the waiter got back.

Once I was in the bathroom I pull out my phone and call Sam. As the phone rings I sit on floor of the bathroom stall. I have no idea where all that came from. What Lisa said to Dean, set off a spark in me. I didn't appreciate how she spoke to him.

"Hey," Sam answered. "Hows it going with Lisa?" He asks.

"Lisa is a bitch," I say. "But thats not what I called you about. Hows the hunt? Did you finish it?" I needed a distraction for a bit or I was going to go out and say more things that I might regret.

"Yeah," Sam says. "I was able to talk to the murdered husband and he said that it was the best friend who killed him. While I was talking to him, I got a phone call saying that the wife died of a heart attack. The spirit was then salted and burned."

"Thats great," I say picking at a loose strand from my shirt. "I'm glad it went well and that the spirit was willing to listen."

"Now tell me why Lisa is a bitch," Sam wasn't going to let me off that easy.

"Let's just say, she looks at me like I'm a threat and tells Dean that he never changed." I rip the strand off and let it fall to the floor.

"Ah," Sam says.

"Yeah, anyway, I need to go before Deans thinks I ditched him." I hang up the phone and splash my face with water. I walk back to the table to see Dean getting up.

"We should get going," Dean says pulling out his wallet.

"Dean," Lisa stands up and blocks me from walking by. "It's never too late. We can still have what we had. I can live that life. Ben can have a father figure in his life."

Dean looks up and makes eye contact with me. I can tell that he already made his decision. "Lis," he says. "You can't. It almost killed you last time. Now stay here, buy whatever food you want and enjoy a nice dinner on me." Dean threw two 50s on the table. "Let's go," he says to me.

I squeeze passed Lisa and get a good look at her face. She is watching Dean as he walks away. She catches me watching and she looks away. I see a small tear fall down her face. What the hell happened while I was gone?

Back on the road, I waited an hour to talk to Dean. "What happened back there?" I ask. "Did you get the answers you wanted?"

Deans hands tightens on the wheel and pulls off to the side of road and put the impala in park. "Yeah." he stares ahead of him. "She started having these dreams about me. Went to an actual psychic who pulled her memories back. But not Bens. She said she wouldn't do that unless I got back with her." Dean looks at me and I watch as he grabs my hand in his. "I told her it was impossible. I told her I didn't feel that way about her anymore and had feelings for some else."

I felt my heart skip a beat. I knew he was talking about me. I used my free hand to grab his shirt collar and pull him to my lips.

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aelaer · 4 years

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Whumptober 29: Numb

This is part of a series (the one with the demon) and if you'd like to figure out what the heck's going on, I recommend reading the other parts first :D

Part One: 20 - Trembling Part Two: 22 - Alt 6 - Lost Part Three: 25 - Humiliation

I apologise for any mistakes; I had no time to fully proof it before posting it here, and I’m sort of nodding to sleep at my keyboard. And somehow I need to see if I can do the same as I did tonight and just regurgitate 3500 words in an evening after work for the next two days. Wish me luck :P

29. Numb

Stephen managed to make a portal from Fukushima (noting the area to take care of the connection to Mephisto's dimension… later. He'd take care of it later) and stumbled into one of the hallways of the New York Sanctum. He still kept a set of rooms here that he preferred over the Ancient One's former quarters in Kamar-Taj, and he planned to mentally alert Wong of his safe return before quietly cleaning himself up, away from prying, judging eyes.

He couldn't stand the thought of anyone looking at him right now.

Unfortunately, nothing ever worked Stephen's way because at that moment an apprentice rounded the corner and halted, staring at him with wide and somewhat horrified eyes.

The lingering humiliation made its way to the forefront of his mind and Stephen could only imagine what the apprentice— her name was escaping him, and that was a further embarrassment— thought of seeing the Sorcerer Supreme, the one who was meant to lead and guide them, in such a defeated state.

He swallowed; he needed to say something. "It looks worse than it actually is," was what came out.

"I'll— I'll go get help!" she said, and before he could stop her, she ran around the corner, and he doubted he had the energy to run after her. Well, he could fly after her, but he was pretty certain the Cloak wouldn't agree to it.

Stephen pressed his lips together and strode to his rooms. He could at least start cleaning himself up and begin mending himself so he looked less pathetic to the other Masters who were sure to eventually come.

In his bathroom he kept a first aid kit specifically for situations where he wanted to avoid going to the Kamar-Taj infirmary (and honestly, with the feats healing magic was capable of, he was able to tend to himself most of the time as it was; he knew more than enough about the human body to properly do it). However, after he shed his destroyed robes and tried to mend himself inwardly as he cleaned off the blood outwardly, he found that he currently lacked most of the energy necessary for the task. Within Mephisto's dimension— his so-called 'hell'— Stephen had been largely muted from calling upon the powers of the Vishanti that were granted, as needed, to the Sorcerer Supreme. Something within the dimension blocked his easy access, forcing him to draw from his own internal powers for all combat.

Another failure on my part, a bitter voice in the back of his mind whispered. He pushed the intruding thought away for the moment; the reality was, he was left with several nasty, deep scratches and a particularly vicious bite on his leg that were still sluggishly bleeding and he couldn't internally repair it as he usually did, not right away. And he absolutely would not call upon the Vishanti for such a minor thing as these non life-threatening hurts.

Stephen exhaled and held his head in his throbbing hands.

A moment later, he looked up as he heard the door to his rooms open. Without knocking, either; definitely Wong. "In the bathroom," he called as he straightened himself, though his words were tinted with resignation.

It was indeed Wong (and thankfully only Wong). His friend's face remained stoic as he looked him over. "Patil wasn't exaggerating about your current state." Oh, right. That was her name.

"Demons are tricky," Stephen said, attempting to sound lighthearted but falling flat.

Wong shot him an accessing look at the comment, then said, "You should be in the infirmary."

"No," he retorted, then lowered the sharpness in his voice at the equally sharp look from Wong. "I can take care of them properly once I've regained some of my energy."

He frowned. "You're depleted?"

A pang of shame went through him once more. "I— I had trouble connecting to the Vishanti within the dimension."

Wong's frown remained. "That's unusually strong for a demon. Did it ever give you its name?"

"It called itself Mephisto."

Wong stilled and Stephen looked at him via the bathroom mirror; if he had to make a guess, he would say that his friend was alarmed, of all things. Suddenly, he felt a not-so-subtle prodding from Wong as the other sorcerer attempted to enter his mind.

He immediately blocked him from access and scowled. "What the hell was that?" Stephen demanded.

"Mephisto is one of the most powerful demons of the multiverse," Wong stated, "and is well known for his ability to lay twisted seeds of thought in a mind."

"I think I'm experienced enough to know when my mind's been messed with," Stephen retorted dryly. "Now are you going to let me finish cleaning myself up so I can sleep and regain some energy?"

Wong continued to frown at him, but said, "I will start the mending process right now. Some of your wounds are still bleeding and your leg looks terrible."

His voice remained dry as he replied, "Thanks Wong."

Silence fell between them as Stephen carefully cleaned himself up and Wong began the healing process to more quickly mend the physical wounds. The doctor saw to cleaning out and patching up the bite on his leg (and the nice thing about the magic Wong was currently using was that it would eliminate both mundane and mystical issues that could come with being bitten by an imp of all things). He could feel Wong numbing some of the spots on his back and applying sets of sutures made of eldritch energy; physical sutures would only come if there was still need for them after twenty-four hours of magical healing. The fascinating part about it all was that waiting for a day, which would be an awful decision without magic, worked just fine with the dimensional energies they used to help heal physical wounds.

If he wasn't so good at defending Earth against attacks, he would have certainly transitioned to the medical wing of Kamar-Taj.

But you're not that good, are you? ran through his head as the image of the souls he had tried to save, and failed to save, flashed across his memory.

Something of a numbness settled over him as he reviewed his trials against Mephisto and all the mistakes he made time and again throughout the few experienced hours within his company. Stephen realized now, far too late, that he should have pushed his bargaining with each game; the demon liked games, so he should have taken the time to try and save some souls during the chess game, for instance. But he was so caught up in his own hurts and trying to block out the demon's ramblings and the screams of the tortured souls trapped within that dimension that he didn't even consider making something of his win until after he said checkmate. And his performance in the arena was completely inexcusable; if that is what he looked like when relying on his own powers without the assistance of the Vishanti, what sort of poor excuse of a sorcerer was he? In his heart he had doubted his worth to inherit the Ancient One's title, and in one of his first true tests since he received it, he found his doubts had merit.

Such failure was completely unacceptable.

Stephen stirred from his thoughts when Wong stepped back. "Your body will continue to mend overnight," he said, voice stoic and unreadable as ever.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you," he said, this time with sincerity.

Wong made a noise in acknowledgement, then cleaned the mess Stephen had made with a wave of his hand. "I'm surprised that you haven't asked about your friend."

"Fri— oh my God, Christine." How in the fucking hell had that slipped his mind? Of all things? It seemed he was both an inadequate defender and friend. "Did you hear from her? How is she?"

"Doctor Palmer was naturally frantic when she called about twelve hours ago," he answered. "I assured her that she was safe and that you were 'taking care of' the situation. I offered an acolyte to stay with her the rest of the day and throughout the evening, but she declined. She does want you to call her as soon as possible."

The thought of talking to Christine right at that moment left a strange feeling in his gut. "What time is it?" He hadn't even looked.

"Here in New York it's just past four in the morning."

He let his shoulders relax; he could hold off on calling her. "I'll call her in a few hours. I should…" Stephen gestured to the adjourning bedroom.

Wong nodded. "We would be interested in hearing your experience within this demon's realm, Stephen; it may help us glean some insight into what to expect, especially with one as old as Mephisto."

"Yeah," he answered, not meeting his eyes; the thought of relaying his experience to all the Masters of Kamar-Taj left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. In the past he would have been required to; as the Sorcerer Supreme, it was at his own discretion.

But to tell them all about every single one of his failures? Of every inefficiency and inadequacy?

"And Stephen?" He blinked and looked at Wong, who now stood at the bathroom entrance. "If you feel any sort of residual effects from Mephisto's dimension, you need to go to the infirmary."

"Yeah, sure thing," he said, and Wong gave him one last discerning look before departing for the night.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror: he had managed to wash off all the blood, but he was pallid and still torn in several places as the magic did its slow work. In the background, he saw the Cloak continue to hover in the corner, silent but steadfast. The silent witness to his failings.

Stephen blinked and rubbed his eyes with a shaky hand. He needed to sleep and get a grip on himself before moving further. He pulled himself up and trudged to bed, not bothering with the work of putting on pajamas.

The uneasiness remained upon him as he eventually fell asleep.

————

The next day was no easier. While his body felt much better and his magic greatly restored, his failings from the other day felt no lighter.

What he needed was to be proactive. So Stephen forced himself out of bed and got to work. The first order of the day was Christine.

Christine was… Christine said she didn't blame him. That she honestly was surprised something like that hadn't happened sooner, considering everything. That it really wasn't his fault.

He blamed himself, but didn't say anything. What he did tell her was that he was negligent in not warding her apartment and failing to give her any sort of protection and would remedy the former immediately, and the latter shortly.

She said it really wasn't his fault again, but he started upon the wards on the apartment anyway, and she went off to get them refreshments. She didn't have to go anywhere, anyway; she'd taken the day off. He couldn't blame her.

Once he was finished with that, his next order of business was dealing with the connection to Mephisto's hell in Fukushima. That was easily enough solved, and he was able to do it without bothering anyone else with the mostly minor task. Not bothering anyone seemed a solid plan as he figured out the best way to learn from his failures.

It was one reason he decided to release the (few) souls he managed to save on his own. Besides, Stephen already had a good idea of what needed to be done after Everything with Thanos; there were just a couple elements he wanted to double-check. Thankfully, his new position meant he had full run of the library now. He could even take the books as needed, but Stephen didn't particularly want Wong knowing which books he was reading through, lest it bring up the whole story surrounding the souls entombed in the gems. So he quietly found the material he needed to confirm the steps necessary, slipped the books back on their shelves, and left the library without so much as seeing the librarian.

He took the six souls to the Mirror Dimension in a quieter part of the New York Sanctum, locked the door, and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening properly releasing them. By the time he was finished, he was exhausted and absolutely had no desire to speak with anyone, so Stephen removed the lock from the door and portaled into his rooms. His healing body greedily grasped for sleep.

His next steps involved improvement and doing. He had failures to atone for, which meant he had a lot of work to do. So Stephen settled in the Sanctum library and got started, first looking for more research regarding protective charms and talismans and what went into their craftsmanship.

Some hours into the day, a voice interrupted him. "Doctor Strange." Blinking, he looked up and saw Hamir standing near the library doors.

"Master Hamir." Why was he here?

"I came to see how you were faring; I understand you were wounded in your venturing within Mephisto's hell."

So Wong told him; a pang of annoyance went through him. Did Wong want everyone to know about how he came back, bloody and defeated? "Unfortunately so, but not so much that I cannot perform my duties," he reassured him.

A strange look passed over Hamir's face. "Yes, of course. Of that, I had no doubt. It is fortunate that it did not take a worse turn."

Something of a numb feeling went over him at Hamir's words. If the elder Master knew just how badly he had failed the tests put upon him within the dimension, he would be saying otherwise. And now, he had to make sure that he as the Sorcerer Supreme never failed such tests again. "Yes, fortunate," he muttered. "Please excuse me; I have a lot of work I need to do."

Hamir offered him a polite bow in return and took his leave; Stephen locked the door and put a ward up to prevent any portalling into the library so that he could remain undisturbed.

Some time later, he was pulled out of his studious trance by the cloak tapping his cheek. "What?" he asked it in annoyance. The cloak pointed to the window.

It was dark. Oh. He should… food would be a good idea, wouldn't it? But he had no desire to eat with anyone else, so he avoided the dining halls at Kamar-Taj and scrounged about the kitchen in the New York Sanctum for sustenance. It was rather late on the east coast, so he didn't encounter anyone with meal times that adhered to New York time. That worked well and good for him.

The next few days fell into a very steady routine: wake, grab something quickly from the kitchen for breakfast to eat in the study he still had in New York, spend an hour or two checking the mystical energies for encroaching threats or strange anomalies, then go back to his studies on protective talismans. He'd grab a bite to eat after the rest of the New York dinner crowd was done, and for the most part successfully avoided people that way.

Wong eventually cornered him four days into this routine. "What are you doing?" he asked at the Sanctum library's doors.

"Talismans." Stephen shook his head. "What happened to Christine is inexcusable. I am rectifying the situation."

Wong frowned. "A reasonable concern, but no one has seen you for the last week. What of your other duties?"

He stilled at the question. "I am still monitoring the Earth actively for mystical threats; I do so daily. It has been quiet." I am not failing my other duties. Protection is all I am focused on now. I am not failing.

"It has been," Wong said in neutral agreement. "Still, your presence has been missed in the lessons and out in the training yards. I know some apprentices are missing your guidance."

"I think they can last a few days without me," Stephen muttered, looking back to his books. Surely the apprentices realized that he had more important things that needed doing; once he was complete with this talisman, his next project was more long-term and probably could be juggled with the more mundane routines of teaching and guiding. But still… how was he meant to do those properly if he wasn't where he needed to be as Sorcerer Supreme?

"How long do you believe this project will last?" he asked.

"Not much longer," he assured Wong. "A week at most. I'll show up for some of the lessons again after." Hopefully that got the other man off his back.

Wong gave him one of his indeterminable looks, then nodded once and shouted, "Maybe try to join us for a meal sometime again, too!"

Stephen wrinkled his nose at the comment and made a face to himself; meals wasted too much time. Too much talking, too much catching up, and he was best when he was alone while concentrating on things that needed to get done in a short amount of time. He was the exact same way in during finals in college and throughout quite a bit of med school. It drove the few friends he had absolutely nuts, but it was well worth it.

And this, this would be well worth it as well.

—————

Stephen gifted Christine a new talisman that only became visible when she wanted it to, allowing for her to wear it while on the job. That would reassure him of her constant safety, and it turned out that if someone without their own set of great powers was friend to the Sorcerer Supreme, they needed that sort of protection.

He considered telling her that he was really not worth the hassle. Her life was absolutely not worth the risk. At one point he almost did say it; the thought of her getting hurt because of him caused a numbness that he could hardly describe with mere words. But at the same time, Stephen knew her and he knew her stubbornness and realized that such a thing would not happen, not with him asking.

With the talisman done, he fell into another routine. There was so much more to learn before he could be the Sorcerer Supreme the Masters of Kamar-Taj expected, and if he didn't bring himself up to snuff soon, they would see him for the failure he currently was. So he needed to bridge that gap as soon as possible, and thus the routine.

In the morning, breakfast by himself. A scan of Earth for mystical threats or changes in the general atmosphere. Studying, creating, practicing, all by himself within the Mirror Dimension. Eating dinner by himself later in the evening in New York time, then going over to Kamar-Taj to observe the first of the morning classes in Nepal— sometimes it was the physical training, sometimes basic spells, sometimes another thing altogether. Get back to New York for bed.

Rinse and repeat. He was interacting with the novices and apprentices (and the occasional acolyte) as Wong requested, and doing everything in his spare time to learn everything he didn't yet know, to practice, to just get better and better and to not be such a failure. He spoke to the Masters as needed, but truly they didn't need much from him; the dimensions surrounding Earth were quiet. It was the perfect time to do this.

Three weeks into this routine, Christine called and asked if he could spare time for lunch. Stephen frowned and gave his apologies; he really couldn't. He had to better himself, first.

Four and a half weeks into his new daily living and Wong pointed out that the ice cream stash was surprisingly not empty yet. Considering the ice cream was usually only touched when they were doing something together (and that 'something' varied from discussions on Chaos Magic theory to Wong's deplorable taste in reality TV), it made sense to Stephen. He simply had not had the time, not with everything he had to do the last month and a half.

"Oh, please go at it; I've just been rather busy," he said apologetically. Wong's blank look in return brought a strange feeling that he quickly numbed by pushing it to the back of his head. He offered his friend a polite smile and got back to work.

There was a Nepalese holiday, the Lunar New Year known as the Nepal Sambat, that Kamar-Taj had always honored, what with Nepal being the country that homed the ancient compound. They even continued to celebrate it when the Nepalese government suppressed the ancient tradition throughout much of the twentieth century. Stephen grimaced at being pulled away from his work for so long to see to the tradition, but he made the required appearance at Kamar-Taj, said the proper words, and let those in Kamar-Taj that were actually native to Nepal continue the rest. When it got to the actual celebrations, he slipped away back to New York.

There was still entirely too much work to be completed to bridge his failures.

#whumptober2019 #no.29 #numb #stephen strange #doctor strange #wong #hamir #doctor strange fanfic #my writing #my fanfiction

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