Chapter Text
“Don’t deny, sweet sacrifice.”
Elizabeth Stark never complained when Stephen subjected her to life or death situations, but this time she had decided that enough was enough.
“I swear to god, one day I’m going to stop letting you convince me on joining you on your stupid suicide missions,” Ms. Stark spat while aggressively padding off dirt from her pants.
“Duly noted,” Stephen replied, although his mind was elsewhere as he studied the sky, squinted eyes and all, of the new mysterious universe they had ended up on. It seemed that huge clouds of black matter gnawed at the heavens. Such a sight reminded the sorcerer of when the dark dimension almost overtook Earth. The mere remembrance brought shivers to his body as if a huge gust of wind had overtaken his space.
“Welp, we’re toast,” Elizabeth admitted as her hands dropped alongside her sides, the sound of the clap illuminating throughout the lifeless area. “Great. Just great Stephen. Bringing us into some dystopian nightmare. What a fun vacation.”
Stephen turned his attention to his friend, not amused at her quip. “Well I if I knew we would’ve ended up here I wouldn’t have brought you along,” with his voice riddled with a mix of guilt and defensiveness, he sighed. “Let’s just look for this place’s Strange. He has the darkhold. Then we can contact America and get out of here.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms. “And how do you know if this universe’s Stephen can be trusted?” She locked her eyes into Stephen’s, reminding herself not to get too lost in their ocean-reminding hues.
“We don’t. But we don’t have another choice,” without waiting for a response Strange turned his back to Elizabeth and headed for a familiar-looking building on the horizon. She followed suit a couple of feet behind him, pacing faster to catch up to the man.
The scenery was, to say the least, depressing. With the inclusion of blotches of blackness surrounding the skies, there were no vibrant plant-life or any signs of life, and an endless eerie fog engulfed the atmosphere. Strange’s destination appeared to be the New York sanctum, or what was left of it. The place was clearly crumbling, and it was only a matter of time before what was left of the gloom reality would be eaten up by the cosmos.
“So, what do we do if this version of you is evil?” Elizabeth asked as the pair’s boots padded across the ground of dead grass and debri. The girl finally caught up to Stephen, although she had to remember to not stand too close since his cloak was a massive thing and always stood in the way of everything.
“Well, we tie him to a chair, of course,” Strange replied, attempting to lighten the mood. Despite their predicament, being a negative nancy wouldn’t make things better.
Elizabeth chuckled. “Yeah, like that’s going to work. Any version of you being held down longer than 3 minutes is more impossible than finding a universe where my dad is alive.”
Stephen turned to his friend, his mouth lips parted in minor shock and his eyes crinkled. Elizabeth’s dark humor rarely came to a surprise, but the fact that Stephen was partially responsible for her father’s death made him feel some type of way about her joke, even if he knew she held no ill towards him. He awkwardly laughed, hoping that she didn’t catch his shifted energy. “You really are a special kind of person,” he uttered.
Elizabeth just smiled humorly. “I know.” She had caught his minor shift in mood, however she knew that it was just his feelings toward the situation manifesting. Stephen held some amount of guilt over her father dying still, no matter how many times Elizabeth had reassured him that such a burden was not worth his soul. She often felt pity towards him; he was just one person who had the misfortune of carrying the weight of the world as bearer of the time stone. Poor man lived through millions of realities, and somehow still came out the other side sane. His strength and resilience was exactly what gave Elizabeth palpitations in her heart - it was his nature to be good which elevated her feelings towards him. Whether or not she could call it love, she didn’t know, but she only knew that having the chance to feel Stephen’s lips against her own would make her entire decade.
But she knew that he had only eyes for Christine Palmer. Even if she had just gotten married.
Elizabeth remained lost in her own thoughts until Stephen stretched out his hand against her being after reaching the broken down building. “I’m going inside alone. Stay here.”
Such a proposition didn’t fly well with Elizabeth. Her mouth became agape with annoyance. “What? No. You need backup, what if he’s dangerous?” she protested, despite knowing full well that she was a mortal with no talent in the mystic arts. Still, she wanted to be by Stephen’s side when he came face to face with his counterpart.
“I mean he’s me but a little more powerful. How dangerous could he really be?” he shrugged, his tone calm. “I just don’t want you to be vulnerable. You could get caught up in the middle of a fight.”
A scoff escaped Elizabeth as she crossed her arms. “Hello! Did you forget he has the darkhold!?!?! You didn’t even stand a chance against Wanda!”
Stephen still didn’t budge, pursing his lips and dismissing his friend’s point. “We don’t have much time to argue Elizabeth. America needs us. I’m going inside to get the darkhold from other me and you will stay here, safe. End of story.” And with that Stephen walked past his friend without hearing another peep from her, his cologne blessing her nostrils. Such a thing easily made her forget about the fact that he had rudely dismissed her and that his figure was fading away amidst the fog.
After debating with herself for a few moments, Elizabeth decided to disobey Stephen. He wasn’t the boss of her, after all - who did he think he was? She hastily followed his footsteps (without him knowing, of course) into the sanctum, quietly tapping her feet against the ground in dragged out intervals.
Unknowing to Elizabeth’s nearby presence, Stephen stepped cautiously around the room of the sanctum. Scattered around the light-lacking place were dozens of books across the floorboards and, interestingly enough, a grand piano nearby the huge circular window Strange recognized all too well. He scanned the room, squinting his eyes among the abode. Papers saw themselves scattered around the floor and dozens of antiques stood in places where nothing was organized. Dust covered almost all objects like a blanket; nothing must have been dusted off or cleaned in literal years. Stephen then noticed a harp in the corner of his eye. Huh. Must be a music guy. Such a sight reminded him of when he was an active band geek back in his high-school days. A much simpler time. It seemed that the other version of him never lost his passion for music.
A familiar voice hit Strange like a cannonball. “Stop where you are.”
Top of a flight of stairs stood a familiar man. It was Stephen’s own counterpart, hiding behind the darkness of the place. Even then Strange could see that the man sported an overgrown beard and no cloak. Stephen prepared himself for the encounter.
“How did you.. get here?” the other Strange asked, his voice riddled with exhaustion and gloom.
“By accident,” Stephen responded calmly. The other version of him appeared to be a level-headed fellow, which only gave him a sense of relief, his chest exhaling a soft breath.
The other Stephen appeared perplexed, convinced he was watching some illusion he had conjured up himself unbeknownst to him. His voice forced out “who are you.. what are you?”
“I’m just one of us,” Stephen assured, responding to the hint of disbelief in the other Stephen’s tone.
“From the multiverse?”
“That’s right.”
“Prove it.” The variant began to make his way down the stairs, one step at a time.
Stephen sighed quietly and removed his eyes from the variant in an attempt to not appear too vulnerable. Here it came. “We had a sister, Donna,” he began, then continued despite his throat swelling in response to the ancient memory, “she uhh.. she died when we were kids.”
The other Stephen seemed interested enough. “How?” he asked, clearly waiting for the correct answer from his variant. Finally he had reached the ground as Stephen responded.
“We were playing on a frozen lake and…” the words came out despite the lump in Stephen’s throat growing by the minute. The ache in his heart was still fresh despite decades since Donna’s death. He looked to the ground in shame. “She fell through the ice.” The ache was now astronomical, and the tears had started to arrive. “I couldn’t save her,” he choked up.
“Sounds about right,” the other Stephen answered, also having an aching heart due to the memory, but he was too much of a broken man to even bother to give in to such pain. He walked across the room, hunchbacked and with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “But we don’t talk about that, do we?”
“No we don’t,” Stephen answered, proceeding to change the subject. “So I supposed your reality wasn’t always like this?”
As the two men conversed Elizabath stood several feet away from the entrance, her head ducked to the side, giving the impression of a floating ahead among the doorway. Seeing a second version of Doctor Strange brought a feeling of intrigue to her. She mentally noted that the variant was just as handsome as “her” variant, despite bearing a beard which appeared ungroomed.
Of course she would even think such thoughts during a dangerous situation.
But what really struck her mind was the gloom tale of Stephen’s sister. She had only heard the man speak of the memory once and it was during her father’s funeral. She could feel the warm breeze in her hair once again, and Stephen standing in front of her, gorgeous as ever in a tailored suit as he’s recalling his childhood trauma in an attempt at bonding with Elizabeth.
“I just want to get home,” Stephen told his counterpart, taking Elizabeth out of her trance and back into reality. Cold, sucky, reality. The hairs on her arms elongated as she felt the sense of eeriness suffocating the room. There was a shift in energy between the two men, she could feel it.
“Yeah believe me, I’ve been trying to leave this place for a long time,” the variant chuckled slightly, his voice full of mischief, as he brought his hand over to his torso to touch.. the darkhold. The book exuded a small gust of red magic, which was the only color that blessed the gothic room. Neither Stephen nor Elizabeth had noticed the cursed book on the variant’s own belt; they had been too focused on his eerie demeanor.
“You guard the darkhold in this universe?” Stephen asked, his voice a few decibels louder than before.
“Yeah. For good reason.”
“That’s a good start, I could use it.” Strange grew a bit impatient and hasty, and his tone gave it away. “It could help me to communicate to my universe-”
“Careful. The darkhold exacts a heavy toll,” the variant said, raising his eyebrows to express his words dramatically.
“I don’t mean to be callous… but how much of a heavier toll is there left to exact?”
“Not just on its reality, on its reader,” the variant replied, eyes still raised and with a face of seriousness. His gray-purple eyebags grew to be more noticeable than before.
“Look, I’m sorry you couldn’t save your universe but maybe you could help to save mine,” Stephen used his hands to emphasize his point.
Something didn’t feel right. At least to Elizabeth. She didn’t know what exactly Stephen was thinking despite his voice being full of weariness. The variant appeared to be a bit more unhinged rather than just depressed. His voice carried twinges of bitterness, but yet somehow still kept some amount of calmness. A bit solemn, yet still seemingly emotional.
Then something escaped the variant’s mouth that Elizabeth never anticipated.
“Are you happy, Stephen?”
Stephen’s lips became a straight line. He furrowed his eyebrows. You’ve got to be kidding me.
“What?”
The variant continued, not paying attention to the puzzleness in his counterpart’s response. “Are you happy, Stephen?” the other Strange dragged out his words as he made his way towards the window, the light from outside showcasing his tired features. “It’s the question that… Elizabeth Stark asked me at her wedding.” He put out his right hand to the window, as if to catch the sun itself with his dirt-riddled hand. “She looked.. as beautiful as the sun itself. It was blinding, really.. and her question only rained over me.”
Stephen’s eyebrows knitted in confusion and his lips parted in shock. The beating of Elizabeth’s heart in her ear came to a stop. Could it really be?? That the other Stephen in this universe instead had eyes for Elizabeth rather than Christine??
Finally the other Stephen turned back to face his other half. “But I said yes, of course I’m happy!” he raised his voice, “I’m a sorcerer with the power of gods, what man wouldn't be happy? Then I came back to this goddamn haunted house, sat down, and wondered why I lied. I never meant for any of this to happen.” his voice was then lowered, and everyone else in the room could hear the gloom in it. “I was looking for a world where things were different. Where I had Elizabeth. Where I was happy,” he breathed out exhaustingly.
As the reality set in for Strange he didn’t say anything. And he couldn’t, really. He was aware of other universes’ Stranges and how they had their own Christines. However none of them had Elizabeth in the picture. The idea of him and Elizabeth never came to mind, and so the news was more unsettling than him wearing a ponytail or him using the darkhold to defeat Thanos.
And Elizabeth.. well she stayed having a poker face at such a revelation. At first it was pure shock, then confusion, then curiosity. If her and Stephen were reality together in one universe..could it be that they could be in hers? Was there really hope? Her heart shivered at the thought and a wave of nervousness overcame her chest like a wave.
“But I didn’t find it. All I found..were more of us. You know, whether it was with Christine Palmer or Elizabeth Stark..we were still alone. Still heartbroken. Still miserable. It seems that the all knowing cosmos does not desire any version of us to be with anyone at all.” The aura in the room was steeped with nothing but grief. The more his variant went on the more Stepehen could feel his heart dropping. Was it true? Was he destined to be alone? Was the all knowing cosmos really so cruel?
The depressed Strange chuckling in bitterness took Stephen out of his thoughts. “You know…I spent countless hours looking through universes in which Tony Stark would survive. I did everything I could. I dream-walked into other realities to warn the avengers or the fantastic four or whoever the hell was defeating Thanos or attempting to. But nothing worked. In just a few hours I looked through about a billion realities..but there was always someone who had to be sacrificed, whether it was Tony Stark or my.. Elizabeth. And I wasn’t about to let go of her, not when I hadn’t even confessed my true feelings for her..so I made a choice. I let Tony Stark die.”
Stephen listened intently with pursed lips while Elizabeth’s heart beat harder by the second. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Just the mention of her father was enough to make her breathe heavier, her chest exhaled in and out in nervousness.
The deranged Stephen gulped, refusing to allow his throat to tighten in pain. He blinked while avoiding his other half’s gaze. “Funny how it works. You sacrifice one person to save the love of your life, and then after all's well that ends well, said love of your life wants nothing to do with you…” he trailed off.
“I’m sorry.” Stephen meant it with sincerity. Being self-serving was surely a him thing, and he knew better than anyone how the consequences for said self-serve-ness was always so painful, so heart wrenching. But that bill always came due sooner or later.
“Tell me..other me. Did you have a Christine or an Elizabeth in your universe?”
Stephen gulped and parted his lips in hesitation to answer. “It was Christine who asked me that at her wedding.”
Other Stephen was intrigued. “So you had eyes for your Christine?”
“..Yes.”
“What about your Elizabeth?” the other man asked mischievously.
Stephen could sense an energy of unhingeness in other Strange’s voice. He licked his lips in nervousness before continuing. “We’re friends.”
Witnessing the entire conversation was like a dream to Elizabeth. She took in every sentence, every word from the two men like gospel. Her heart was still beating out of her chest so hard she almost felt as if she was about to faint. Each new revelation was a little too hard to handle. First her and Stephen had known each other as lovers in this new universe, then she learned that they were separated due to Strange letting her father die. Hearing that her Strange called them friends strangely brought on a feeling of blueness in her.
“Have you brought her with you?” the other Stephen asked, attempting to sound innocent.
Stephen didn’t hesitate with his answer. Whoever this Stephen was, he was clearly a bit deranged, what with the literal darkhold being in his grasp. “No.”
Other Stephen squinted his eyes in sternness. His eyes were full of fog only moments before, now they were full of fire straight from hell. “Are you sure about that, other me?” He began to step towards his nicer counterpart.
Not one of Stephen’s muscles moved. “Yes. I am.” He braced himself for combat.
It was getting worrying. Elizabeth wanted to intervene somehow. She knew that she couldn’t just blow Stephen’s attempt at protecting her, but she couldn’t risk him getting hurt. Her heart beat for him way too much.
“Just let me use the darkhold to get home. Please,” Stephen pleaded slowly. His senses began to overload as the variant approached him like a lioness approaching a faraway prey.
“Hmmm.. here’s the deal,” the variant began, his eyes glued to Stephen, “I’ll let you use the darkhold, if you give me your Elizabeth.”
“I told you..she isn’t here,” Stephen responded, annoyed and stern in his tone.
“Do not lie to me Stephen..we are not very good liars.” The variant’s lips curled into a smirk. “I can sense her near the doorway.”
Suddenly it was as if the world was upside down. Elizabeth’s eyes widened in alert and the anxiety inside of her only engorged to the maximum amount. With the speed of light she moved her head over and she stood against the wall outside the doorway, trying to calm herself. The idea of Stephen being an egomaniac murderer - any version of him - sent her mind into a frenzy. But what really perplexed her was how this deranged Stephen talked about her as if she was an object. As if she was just a prize to collect or something someone could “give” away. Whoever this unhinged man was, he was no Stephen Strange.
Strange’s eyebrows tightened downwards. Of course Elizabeth didn’t stay downstairs. It was in her nature to not listen to others, just like it was Stephen’s. Caught in his lie, he didn’t bother to lie even more to his other half. “Well I don’t think she’s going to go for that.”
"We’ll see about that,” the variant breathed out dramatically before derailing from the subject. “You look pretty miserable yourself, you know… those Stephens who were just as miserable as us in other universes..I did them a favor. Ever had that dream where you’re falling as if you’ve been pushed from a tall building?”
Stephen hitched his breath.
Once more the variant’s lips stretched into a wide, sadistic grin, confessing his sins. “That was probably me.” As he said those sinister words a third eye revealed itself on his forehead, which only alarmed Earth 616 Stephen even more. Elizabeth gasped in horror as she heard such confessions from the sinister Strange. How could one man have gone so far? Her back was still to the wall as her mind derailed into deeper thoughts and feelings.
Stephen’s breathing grew heavier as he prepared himself to fight the variant of himself. A part of him pitied the poor man, and an even deeper part of himself wondered if he could ever head down a dark path himself. He had no time to fight with himself over it however, as the other Strange was now heading his way and clutching the darkhold in his rusty palms, probably to conjure some combat magic from it.
Elizabeth peered through the doorway and just as she saw the two men about to go at it, her legs carried her over into the room without even having time to process what was happening. “Stop!” her loud, desperate feminine voice cried out in the room like a shockwave, hitting the ears of the two Doctor Stranges. Both of their heads turned, halting their positions.
Elizabeth stopped in her tracks in nervousness at the sight of the two men being so close in proximity.
“Elizabeth, get out of here!” Stephen demanded. Meanwhile, the other Stephen’s lips parted in shock and awe, looking at the woman as if she was a dream come to life. His features loosened as if he looked up and down at the woman to ruminate over her beauty. Her golden blonde hair, as soft as a blanket. Her colorful eyes which he could get lost in forever, victim to her shallow waters. Her plump lips that were as necessary as air. It had been years since he lay eyes on Elizabeth - or whatever looked like her. She only appeared in his dreams. And now she was there, flesh and blood and all in between, ready for his taking.
In response to his reaction Elizabeth found her gaze locked on to his. Never ever had Stephen ever looked at her the way this deranged Stephen was, and that alone conflicted her mind, soul, and body. She gulped as she found herself getting lost in his own misty eyes.
He treaded slowly towards her as Earth 616 Stephen stood aside him, mouth agape in anticipation. He looked over between the two, his eyes landing from one Stephen to one Elizabeth. He felt the newly formed aura in the room, and in response his mind scrambled for answers as to the reason for it other than his counterpart being absolutely obsessed with Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth..” Sinister Strange whispered in awe as he approached her personal space. His third eye shifted out of sight. For some odd reason she felt her legs unable to move or even twitch. The man that came towards her didn’t appear as a murderer even though he was, no, he appeared as a man longing and yearning for love. For her. In her mind, that was her universe’s Stephen Strange - albeit with no cloak and seemingly a bit gollum-like - walking towards her, ready to confess his feelings and ready to turn the world upside down for her. He held her chin up with his black-ridden fingertips, his lips only inches away from Elizabeth’s. In his eyes she could only see twinkles of long-lost tenderness now at the surface. And in her eyes, he could see hidden feelings for him - whether or not if it was exactly towards him, he didn’t care.
“I missed you,” he croaked, waves and waves of feelings overtaking his features and soul. Next he caressed her soft cheek with his left hand, the texture of his palm making Elizabeth’s skin twitch for a split second. “I’ve missed you so much,” he repeated as he ran his left hand through her hair around her ear. She was there, and he couldn’t feel more elevated than before. Years and years of each day passing slower than he could ever think of, were now only obstacles - stepping stones, leading up to this faithful day where he’d finally meet his love again.
Stephen Strange stood there, mouth still agape at such a display. No words could escape his mouth as his throat felt as if it was knots. It was as if he was dreaming. Was this real life? Elizabeth’s response to Sinister Strange was more crazy than his idea at dreamwalking in his own corpse. He just could not believe what was going down in front of his eyes.
“I..” was all Elizabeth could utter as the other Stephen knelt down to place a kiss upon her sweet red lips. She always dreamed that when she would be kissing Stephen it was her own universe’s, but this wasn’t so bad, she thought. His facial hair tickled her mouth as he dragged out the kiss. He gave it as tenderly as possible and Elizabeth savored it as much as she could.
Elizabeth was taken off her haze the moment Earth 616 Stephen cleared his throat, which earned a broken kiss and two turned heads in his direction. He eyed Sinister Strange in anger. “Look, I don’t know what kind of spell you have her under or what you’re doing to her but you better back off,” he demanded, now heading towards his own variant.
Elizabeth blinked as she came back to reality and realized that she had been under some kind of spell, and that the Stephen in front of her was not actually her Stephen but a deranged and murderer version of him. Her mind cleared and she quickly shifted out of Sinister Strange’s grasp and wiped her index finger over her lips. “What the hell?” she muttered.
Sinister Strange turned to his variant and scoffed. “Heh..you look pretty jealous other me. But don’t worry. I’ll take her off your hands. That way you can no longer take her for granted.”
Stephen shook his head in disbelief and dismissed whatever game the variant was playing. “Enough. Give me the darkhold and let her go. I won’t ask again.”
‘Hm. Don’t think so,” and with that Sinister Strange raised his arms in combat-mode.
One look at her universe’s Stephen also raising his arms in defense and Elizabeth decided to yell out “wait!” She lay a hand upon Sinister Strange’s arm, her touch smoldering him tenderly. “I’ll stay with you, just please don’t hurt him,” she pleaded, her eyes bleeding in desperation.
“Wha- What? No!” Stephen immediately retorted as Sinister Strange grinned.
He won.
“It will be fine Stephen,” she said as her breathing grew heavier, fright overtaking her as she remembered she had no idea how far this Strange would go to get what he wanted. Her lips quivered in nervousness as she told Stephen “I can take care of myself.”
“No. You can’t” Stephen insisted, a strong determination to take her out of there unharmed growing by the minute in his being. “This man is a psychopath.”
Sinister Strange nodded at such a comment, clearly not disagreeing with his more-grounded self.
Elizabeth wasn’t budging. Her voice raised in stubbornness. “Take the darkhold, Stephen. Rescue America. I’ll be here, looking out for your body while you dreamwalk.”
“I won’t hurt her,” the variant said genuinely, his face softened, his eyes no longer being full of rage.
As the tension between the trio grew suddenly a huge neon blue star-shaped portal opened up, the sound of its entrance blasting into the variants’ and Elizabeth’s eardrums. Everyone’s bodies twitched in surprise, then Stephen impulsively headed for Elizabeth’s arm. His next target was the darkhold, unfortunately Sinister Strange knew to act faster than his counterpart. He conjured up a purple whip of magic and aimed for Stephen’s head. Fortunately Stephen dodged such an attack before bringing Elizabeth to the portal, who hesitantly abided by his action. He faced Elizabeth and demanded, “go! I’ll meet you there! Quickly!”
“I’m not leaving you!” Elizabeth hollered out as her locks waved in all different directions due to the fluctuating air surrounding the portal.
Strange was about to yell at her once more when a purple whip of magic tightened itself around Elizabeth’s waist and threw her to the side of the room like a ragdoll. Sinister Strange then aimed for Stephen as Stephen himself conjured a whip of his own to snatch the darkhold while avoiding a hit. Sadly Stephen was not fast enough as Sinister Strange swiftly moved out of his orange whip and as a final blow, threw a blast of purple magic Stephen’s way. Stephen felt the force of a small meteor as the magic blasted on his chest and threw him up in the air right in the portal’s way. He could barely process what had happened and could feel every cell and bone in his body being broken down and sucked in by the portal.
Elizabeth screamed out a “no!” as Stephen’s body disappeared into the endless cosmos of the multiverse and the portal had dissolved into nothing, leaving her alone with Sinister Strange.