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rmoonstoner · 2 years

Text

Opalescent Dreamer

***

Notes:

Not Canon timeline. I'm pulling things from here and there. I've been dying to write a fic with Dr. Strange in it after watching the Multiverse of Madness. Reader is a natural Dream Walker with a slight psychic ability. This results in the reader becoming proficient in magic.

***

Story will be 18+

MK system x Reader

Warnings:

Eventual smut, angst, fluff, death, gore, blood, foul language traumatic experiences

Summary:

You're a traveller, always have been, always will be. On one fateful trip to Egypt, you find a small shiny greenish opal, and things start to get intensely weird from that moment on. You start having way too real dreams about other people's lives. They are always about the same two people. A peculiar man with three faces, and a strange doctor learning about magic. As you dream about them, learning about their lives, you feel like something is pushing you towards them. While time passes, you teach yourself magic as the doctor learns it, while also yearning to meet with the man with three faces.

***

Chapter 1 - Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

***

You have been having peculiar dreams, and you've tried everything to understand them. You did extensive research on dreams. All your information was just theories. Many of them were different, like they were telling you the future in subtle ways, or about your past, while others claimed they were you subconsciously trying to tell yourself what you truly wanted, but the most common theory you found was that dreams showed you lives that you could have been living.

Yet those types of dreams never seemed to be about your life. No, they were always about other people. Their lives, and what they were doing. You saw things as if they were from your point of view, but you knew it was disconnected somehow, like you were a fly on the wall, or looking through a stranger's eyes. A stranger that could never have really been you, or any version of you. Dreams are a window to other realities, and you have been dreaming of strange things for quite some time, at least for the past five years.

It happened only after you had found a strange rock buried in the sands on a trip to Egypt. One that you swear whispers these dreams to you at night. You also think this rock does other things to you, like keeping you safe from harm and somehow heals you when you're sick, or injured. You believe this, because you haven't had any health problems since, and somehow you've managed to avoid all sorts of major injuries from any accidents you've been in. You've also found you get thirsty and hungry a lot less. Ever since then, you've worn the rock around your neck, and the dreams kept coming, the wounds always healing. A buzzing of something bittersweet running through your veins.

Most of the recurring dreams that you keep having are about a man with many faces and talents. In some of these dreams, you're nothing more than a background character, serving coffee or tea to him in a diner. In other dreams, you're friends with him, exchanging friendly banter, and doing things that friends do.

But again, it was never you. Should you ever glance at a mirror, or a reflective surface, you would see someone else. An old woman, a young boy, a pregnant teenager, a grumpy middle aged man, a beautiful woman with golden skin…

None of them were you, but you still saw what they did, how they lived.

The only variance to these odd point of view dreams, were the times when it was clear that you were looking through a mirror at this man, when he wasn't aware of you, when he wasn't looking at you.

But no matter the dream, this man always talks to himself, like he's talking to someone who isn't there. He'll talk for the unseen person, his voice changing to suit whoever these people are supposed to be. Sometimes, he changes into those people, and when he does, it's like he's become an entirely different person. Sometimes you swear the other reflections of him make different faces, like they aren't reflections at all. It leads you to think there are three different men, but you knew better.

Sometimes he would look at the mirror, and he would see you, really see you. It was during those quiet moments that a silent understanding would run through you, that he knew you existed, but he never saw you unless he was looking deeply into the mirror, in a world where everything felt off, like being stuck in a room full of mirrors.

Those were the times you quickly figured out this man was dreaming, stuck in the same confusing mirror world as you.

This man, despite his seemingly random personality changes, always changes into one of three distinct personalities in both types of dreams. It is so consistent, that you know this man probably cannot help the way his brain short circuits and forces him to change to suit whatever situation arises. The switch always looks painful and disorienting, with a brief look of complete terror, followed by confusion, and understanding, and finally acceptance.

One is super grumpy and off-putting, and he comes off as brash and rude, but he always smiles at you when he sees you in the mirror. The second is very humble and gentle, and he is usually kind and polite to you, more so when he stands behind the reflective glass, grinning sheepishly at you, like you're something precious. The last one is always close to you, quiet and calm. He is usually the one in the mirror, because the other two are awake most of the time. This one sings to you in Spanish, even when he seems to be nothing more than a faded image in a dream.

But he is real, so very real. Sometimes you see this man, but he's different, like it's yet another version of this specific persona. It happens with the other two personalities, but not nearly as often as the one with a dangerous smile, that flat cap, and that blood red eye. It takes you a while to figure out that your dreams are forcibly picking this specific man with three identities, and linking you to him, especially the one that speaks fluent Spanish.

But in the other types of dreams this odd Spanish personality is dangerous and fearless, quick and cunning. Those are the dreams he doesn't see you at all, and those show you just how deadly the man with three faces truly is.

And after those dreams, the mirror-like ones got even more real. That dangerous man would whisper to you that he longed for something more. A connection to someone that wasn't the two other people in his head. Whenever he gazes at you, his eyes go soft, and he never fails to regard you with a toothy grin and wink.

But some of these dreams don't appear to be just you peering into an odd, endless room of mirrors, some sort of dimension that makes your stomach curl, and your mind dizzy…

Some of these dreams seem to force you to watch from the reflections that surround this man, wherever he is. In these kinds of dreams, you can't communicate with him. You feel like this man, and any of his alters, never see you, even when you've tried to speak. This happens for three years, and then one day, you're in one of these types of weird out of body experiences. Everything is so real, but it feels like an acid trip on overdrive. The way the world shifts and moves like liquid crystals, melting, and reforming into sharp points, makes you feel like it's an in-between world. A realm where you cannot be seen, heard, or perceived…

The current scene in front of you is alarming. It's that man again, but he is alone, and he's hurt. He's dragging himself through sand at night, and he gasps for breath as he leaves a thick gouge in the dusty Earth under him. You see blood in the trail he leaves. You're jolted forwards for a closer look as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

You don't understand how it's happening, because there's nothing reflective around you, that is until you look again and see you're much closer, and then in the blink of an eye he is far away again. It happens again and again as he crawls, and you realize he's getting wet, as are the sands around him as it turns dark and soaked with water.

Rain.

It's raining you figure out, so you try to hover in a certain spot, and try not be dragged with the droplets of water.

It worked, and now you are looking around, desperately, trying to see if there's a building he can use as a shelter. Even a small oasis with water. Anything at all.

You see a weird temple, made of smooth white marble. Marble that doesn't belong out in the desert. But it is something, so you go back to the man, and try to convey that he should turn just a little to the right, or he will miss it. He doesn't budge in the direction he is going, and you know he's getting to the point of missing the shelter. You go to his side, the side that's towards the temple, and you try to think on how to get him to turn towards you. Towards safety and cover.

You scream at him. You wail and shout, using everything in you. He pauses and coughs. You shout again, louder this time. He turns his head, face bloodied, sand sticking to his brow. His black hair is a mess, matted with dirt and more blood. He stares directly at you, shock on his face like he's seen you-

But what he actually sees is the top of the temple that pokes up from behind the ridge of the dune behind you. He sighs, feeling a little energy has been given to him because of the rain. He tries to stand, managing to steady himself as he trudges towards the stone structure. You cheer him on, gliding through the rain after him. He makes it inside, and you follow, only to see an odd statue, and not much else, the building crumbling everywhere except around the massive figure in this room.

Then you watched as time seemed to shift, the air around you feeling like soup. A booming voice echoed loudly, deep and commanding as it offered the man salvation in exchange for becoming his knight. As it spoke, a fine mist appeared, and a tall figure materialized above the man, seemingly as if he were sprayed from the statue's mouth.

From what you could tell, this being was Egyptian, and he looked similar to the statue. His voice was thick and raspy, like an ancient being from the distant past. He looked ancient, and it didn't help that he looked quite dead. He was a mummy, with a skull of a bird for a head. You gasped, and made some sort of noise, and the skull seemed to turn all the way around to face you while the body stayed facing the injured man.

"You don't belong here." The being rumbled into your mind.

"Yet." You shivered in fear, not knowing what that meant.

Then the being turned his head back around and he asked the man again to be his knight, and he would save him. The man agreed, and you watched as his body rode into the air and glowed. He went rigid, a silent scream on his lips. His eyes were white, shooting rays as pure as moon light up to the moon that hung in the sky. Cracking of bone and cartilage could be heard, the man grunting and huffing in discomfort as his bones healed and reset themselves. His wounds healed themselves, cuts closing, bruises fading. Even the dirt and grime melted away as the being directed the rain to wash his new knight clean with moon blessed water.

A white suit of armour made of wrappings formed all around him. Thick white bands covered every inch of his body, forming a perfect suit of armor. He was lowered to the ground where he crouched on his knees, kneeling before the skull headed man. The knight looks up, his gleaming white eyes piercing right into your very soul, causing your heart to wrench in your chest…

The deity turns to you and bellows again.

"Be gone, until we meet again."

In an instant, the image shatters like glass, the pieces falling away like they were being gone, sucked into a vortex vacuum. You scream as the world whirls around you, the images being dragged away, leaving you in dark and cold water.

***

You wake up, gasping for breath as you drag yourself out of the sheets. Everything feels so real now, but it felt real there, too, but in a different way. You steal yourself a breath, then you get out of bed to go to work. You tried for days not to think about that dream.

Weeks go by, and the dreams suddenly switch from this olive skinned man, to a completely different one. They start out as mundane days of life for him, getting ready for work, or shopping. Some days are ones where this man is at dinner parties, or important functions, but you can tell that he hates them. You see glimpses into his job, all graphic and bloody. He isn't killing anyone, but saving them in a sterile hospital full of bright lights. He appears to be a surgeon of some sorts.

Another few dreams, and you've figured out he is a brain doctor, a neurosurgeon. You haven't seen his face yet, but you know for sure this man isn't the one that has three people inside of him, because his hands are different, and so is his voice. This man sounds cocky, like he is self important somehow.

Finally one night you catch a glimpse of him looking in the mirror, and he's doing up his tie. He is a pale skinned man, with a black goatee, and short hair with streaks of white above his ears. He is thin and healthy looking, but you can't quite tell his body type with the clothes he is wearing. He is wearing a nice three piece suit, and he turns to a beautiful woman, taking her by the hand. You hear her name, Christine, and she calls back, saying his.

Stephen. Dr. Stephen Strange.

You have one of them in this timeline. You have met him before. He's not very nice, and he's pushy and a bit arrogant. You met him when you needed someone to help you with your mother, but he had turned you down, saying her condition was fatal, and inoperable.

You never held it against him, because your mother died shortly after, about a week after meeting him. That was a year ago now. He did have the decency to send a card with his condolences when she died, so there was that.

The dream flashes ahead to a car driving down the winding roads of the countryside, and then something eventful happens.

A car crash.

The woman that's with him dies, but the doctor lives. He screams when he holds her corpse, and the dream cuts out.

More weeks go by, with you watching this man descend in madness. He's upset because his hands are ruined, which is weird, because they were perfectly fine in the dream where the woman had died. It takes a few more dreams to realize this is a different man, because he talks about the woman as if she is alive.

The dreams seem to speed through montages of this Stephen going through the healing process. Physical therapy, retraining his useless pitiful hands. He manages to heal all the cuts, scrapes, bruises, but there is soft tissue damage that leaves his hands barely able to write with a pen, or to open a bottle of water.

He gets frustrated and throws himself into research. He scours the internet, libraries, and anything he can get his broken hands on. At first he's looking to cure himself, learning about experimental procedures and wishing to try anything in the hopes it might work.

He gets turned down by many people, his people. Fellow doctors and surgeons alike all tell him they can do nothing to help him. Stephen begs and pleads. He tries to offer his wealth, but even then, he still gets told he is a lost cause.

He decides to seek answers elsewhere. He searches far and wide, ending up in an odd looking temple halfway across the world. He trains in the Mystic arts, and learns magic in an effort to ease his grieving heart. You catch small details of what he was doing, how he manages to conjure the magic, and in time, you discover you can do the same when awake.

***

Again, the dreams focus on this man, but it's the one whose lady had died in the accident, and his hands are perfectly fine. He too descends into madness, lost in the memories of his dearly departed love. He becomes depressed, and he blames himself, no matter what anyone tells him.

Again he goes through the journey to learn magic, but now he has a new goal. This goal is to learn how to manipulate magic to bring his dead love back. He's voiced it once before, and he was threatened not to try to reverse time, or the sorcerers won't train him. He agrees, staying quiet about his true intentions, just so he can learn the magic.

These dreams go over the spells he's been learning, but he's now channeling his power from darker dimensions. The result is learning different spells and different techniques. A lot of them are dangerous, like perhaps this one is trying to learn higher level spells than the other version did. This one is learning at double the speed, like he is fueled by gaining enough knowledge to turn back the clock.

***

You were bored one day, fully awake and you thought about the hand gestures you saw, and what he was told, or what he learned by himself. How to summon the power from deep within, and pull it from the world around you, or from the realms that existed parallel to it. The magic you produced was a different colour than he had. His was a reddish orange, glowing like the radiant sun, while yours were a brilliant blinding white like the moon.

You became so absorbed in the dreams, focusing on these magic lessons this man and his other self were showing you, with them being completely unaware of it. You ended up quitting your job in order to practice these techniques and spells daily, and you worked hard to make sure you perfected whatever you saw. Each dream showed you exactly what you needed to know, like you were sharing this journey with the two different doctors, gaining new knowledge when they did.

Both versions of the doctor started collecting magical artifacts, one in particular they were heavily invested in, The Eye of Agamotto. They both lost themselves in research, which annoyed you. You wanted to learn more magic, but all they were doing was reading books and scrolls all the time.

So, you watched. You took in his surroundings, studied the open books he had, and tried to remember the things you had read. If this little green amulet was so important, then you should know everything about it, not that it would do you any good. You'd probably never see the real thing.

Life took an unexpected turn about two years after. By then, you had mastered everything both Dr. Stranges had mastered. You knew everything there was to know about them and their lives, which was now starting to get boring. You knew everything about their personal items, like the Cloak of Levitation, the Eye, and the books they held.

***

A couple of months later, you were on a trip to New York, hoping to find the Sanctum, the place that was used as a link to the Kamar Taj. You wanted to meet Dr. Strange, and see which version from your dreams was the one that resided in this world. You honestly were hoping for the one with broken hands, because that had an air of purity to him, whereas the other felt like the darkness was reeling him in, tainting him with dark magic.

You hopped into the back of a cab, hoping the cabbie knew the street you wanted by just describing the building. You managed to get about half way through your description, when you looked up at the driver. He was patiently sitting there, facing the road, both leather clad hands gripping the steering wheel loosely.

"Sí. I know where that is. People tend to stay away from there, because weird magic shit keeps happening." The man's rough voice said as he reached over to flick his ticker on, and pulled the car out into the road. You knew that voice.

You squinted at him, studying the side of his face for a long while. He had a sharp jaw, thick lips, dark olive skin, and dark curly hair under a flat cap. He looked so familiar, but you had a hard time trying to see his face from the middle seat in the back. You slowly looked into the mirror, and you could see his eyes focused on the road. He had dark circles under his brown eyes, eyes that looked like honey and chocolate. From what you could see of his nose, it was long, but rounded perfectly, seemingly the perfect size for his face. He grew aware that you were staring, and he stopped the car at a red light.

"Something on your mind, señorita?" He asked, his voice crisp with a Spanish twang to the Chicago accent.

"Oh, uh… Nothing. I like your hat. It suits your handsome face." You sheepishly said, and his face faltered for a brief moment, before a smug grin melted onto his face.

"Gracias." He replied, and the light turned green.

Now at your destination, you took notice of his face when he turned fully to you for payment.

It was that man you had been dreaming about before Dr. Strange. The one with the multiple people living inside of him.

"Thank you, sir. May I have your card? For when I need a ride after?" You asked him as you brought out more than double the fare price. His eyes went wide at the wad of bills in your hand, and he glanced up at your face.

"That's too much."

"Nonsense. You must work hard all day, driving people in such a big city. I bet you get a lot of weirdos. You deserve it." You cheerfully said. He reluctantly took the money, then he scribbled down his number on the back of a pack of matches and handed it to you.

"Name's Jake Lockley. I'll be around all day." He said softly, and you left him to go to the front door. He watched you leave and withdrew his pack of cigarettes, lighting one as you knocked on the door.

"Keep an eye out on that one." A raspy voice said in the back seat. Jake nodded and he watched as the door opened for you, a man greeting you with a confused look.

***

"Hello? Are you Wong?" You greeted the man who answered the door, and he blinked a few times at you as you bowed to him in the same manner you witnessed everyone else do this man.

"Ah. Hello. Yes, may I help you?" He asked while he worriedly looked around the street, like he was looking for any possible thing that could be wrong in the vicinity.

"Yes. I've… Uh… I've come to ask about the Mystic Arts… I understand that Dr. Strange is a sorcerer, yes?" You sounded timid and scared, as you should be. There was really no reason to be there, and his face mirrored that as his brows furrowed.

"Well, yeah. Everyone knows who Dr. Strange is. I'm sorry, but he is not here at the moment. He's… He has been busy recently." He sounded a bit nervous when talking about the man, and you knew why. Whenever you dreamed of him, he was always reading and researching about magic.

"Ah, well… I just wanted to see if he was here. Thank you for your time. I'm sorry I bothered you and-"

"Wait a second. I can sense great magic flowing in and out of you. Are you a witch?"

"Ahaha… I don't think I am."

"Please, come in for a moment."

So you went inside, completely unaware that Jake and his companion were still sitting there, watching as you disappeared with Wong.

***

Wong had asked you to show him what you knew, and he was flabbergasted that you were able to show him everything he had personally taught to his students, including a few things he had only ever seen Dr. Strange do. He was even more shocked to find that you learned this all on your own, without the aid of a teacher. When he asked how you knew, a small gravelly voice suddenly told you not to reveal every little detail on how, and you listened.

Instead, you managed to tell Wong a somewhat half truth. That you dreamed of how to do these things, and when you woke up, you tried them. He seemed to accept that answer, but the look on his face told you that he knew you were holding back the whole truth.

By dinner time, you had shown him most of the things you were capable of doing, and he seemed rather impressed. He deemed your level of knowledge to be on par with Dr. Strange, and that bothered him a great deal that some random woman was able to teach themselves to this degree without a teacher. He asked if you could come back the next day, and you nodded and left the building.

When you came outside, a good six hours later, Jake's cab was still sitting out front. You were worried he might have misunderstood what you asked of him, and maybe he thought you wished him to stay there until you were done. You tried to apologize, but he threw a hand up and muttered about the fact he owned his own cab, and he didn't have any place to be.

He took you to your hotel. The entire ride there he was silent. You thanked him, paid the fare, and got ready for the next day.

***

The next morning you texted Jake to see if he was on duty again, mostly because he said he would be available, and you got a quick reply in return. By the time you left the hotel, he was parked out front, ready to take you to your destination, which was right back to the Sanctum. You explicitly told him you weren't expecting him to wait for you, but he rolled his eyes and told you that you could call him if he wasn't outside.

Again you went through your spells with Wong, and he seemed fairly confident that he could get Dr. Strange to show up, but the day went by, and the man didn't come. Wong apologized to you, saying that the doctor was a busy man. You told him it was okay, because you knew the doctor was an Avenger. Wong sighed, and he ushered you out the door again.

To your surprise, Jake was again sitting outside in his cab. He was smoking and listening to Latino rock. Again, you went back to your hotel, and prepared for the next day.

This went on for two weeks, and not a single one of those days did the doctor show his face. During those two weeks, your dreams got worse. They were still centered on Dr. Strange, which was a bit annoying, because you wanted to see what Jake was doing. It was selfish, but you thought Jake was very attractive, more so after actually meeting him in person.

But these dreams seemed to be painting a picture that the good doctor wasn't so good after all. He was meddling in the dark arts, the most forbidden ones at that. Necromancy and time manipulation. You studied everything he was doing, wishing you had a way to show Wong, and perhaps warn him of the dark path that Stephen was on, but you had no idea how you could do that.

On the last day of being at the Sanctum, you were shown a new spell. Wong wanted to show you how to convey memories to others in a psychic way, in case people refused to believe you about something important. What a coincidence that was, and when you tried to cast the spell, you focused on the memories of what Stephen was doing.

Wong was floored after seeing the memories. He stared at you long and hard, his brows furrowed and his lower lip sat snugly between his teeth. He looked almost angry despite his calm exterior.

"That's 'Dream Walking'. That's a dark and forbidden spell. Not only that, but it's very hard to do." He sounded almost horrified, but mostly irritated.

"It's not a spell! It just happens when I go to sleep. It's been happening for years to me." You replied quickly. You were about to mention the rock around your neck, when you heard an echo of a voice.

Don't mention the necklace.

"You mean to tell me that you're not casting a spell? It just naturally happens?" Wong put his hands on his hips as he gave you a scrutinizing look. He was trying to see if you were lying.

"Yes! That's how I learned to use magic in the first place. I figured if I keep dreaming about it, I should at least try it out." You explained to him, and you were honest as you went to cast the spell again to show him another memory of the other doctor just in the early stages of learning, when his hands were ruined.

Wong rubbed his chin. He was obviously very perturbed that you could do such things, but then again, the doctor had learned so much in such a short span of time. He took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, I must say that's ludicrously insane, but not unheard of. I believe you. You definitely have a natural affinity for magic." He admitted with a small smile.

***

You went back to your hotel, again sitting in the back of Jake's cab. When you got there, he parked in the guest parking, and he also got out. You watched him walk to the other end of the strip of rooms, and he bid you a good night as he entered his own rented place.

Had he always been staying there? Or had he decided to just rent a room, because you kept calling or texting him everyday for rides?

You had a strong suspicion that he was watching you, and it both thrilled and scared you to know that one of the men from your dreams was ever present, while the other kept eluding you with his self indulgent quest.

***

It was quite late at night when you left your room to go outside to the gazebo area. You sat back with your phone and smoked a joint, enjoying the night air, the full moon in the sky, and the weird lanky figure sitting on the roof above where Jake was staying…

Ah fuck.

You had nearly forgotten about that guy, so you made a point to keep your eyes scanning the horizon so it wasn't obvious that you were looking at him. You felt like it didn't work, because the figure seemed to be staring right at you, even though you were now scrolling idly on your phone. You felt a bit scared, because that very same being from your dreams had spoken to you. Well, one version of him anyway, because this one looked slightly different. This one had chains and a robe, whereas the other one only wore wrappings and a shendyt.

After a moment of pretending to look at Jake's door, and not the weird bird man on the roof, the door opened. Jake stepped out, and he was dressed in his full cabbie outfit, which was odd, because it was midnight, and you were just in short shorts and tee-shirt. He lit a cigarette, and shook his hand as he flung the match into the ashtray, then he looked up at the roof.

The figure motioned towards you, and Jake peered over, looking surprised you were still up. He started walking towards you, figuring he would talk to you while he could. You felt nervous, knowing he was a servant of that dark being, but you knew this man wouldn't hurt you.

"¡Hola, señorita! Why are you up so late?" Jake said as he came to stand next to you. He quickly noticed you were smoking weed, and his eyes lit up.

"Did you want some?" You offered him the joint, and he gladly took it. He seemed quite excited for it. You spent a good hour just sitting there and smoking with him, and eventually he asked you why you kept going to the Sanctum.

"Why do you keep going there? Isn't that place for magic users only?"

"Oh, uh… Yeah. I can use magic." You admitted between hoots. Jake nodded and lit another smoke.

"Are you allowed to show me any cool tricks?"

"Actually, yes. I'm not a member of the Sanctum, but Wong has been letting me come by to test me on my knowledge. I am self taught."

"Self taught? I don't believe you." He laughed a bit, and you huffed at him.

"I can show you. Here…" You replied with a grin while moving your hands and fingers around. White circles filled with runes appeared, and you produced a small ball of light. You moved your hands again, and the ball turned into a rose, then water in the shape of a rose, before you flicked the water at him. Jake snorted, not minding that his face was now wet.

"That's badass."

You showed him A wide range of harmless spells, and by the time you ran out of weed, you were both toasted. Jake was amazed you could still flawlessly cast the magic while high, and you assured him you could, even while drunk.

"Prove it…"

"Jake. We don't have fucking time for that tonight. Wrap up your little visit, and we must go." That same voice you kept hearing suddenly bellowed around you. You pretended not to hear it, and Jake huffed as he fished his phone out, obviously trying to pretend the voice was coming from his phone.

"Yeah. Uh huh. Right, boss. See ya soon" He said, and put his phone back into his pocket. You know you didn't see him even swipe his screen, but you said nothing.

"I gotta go, doll. I'm going to be busy until daylight. Maybe if you're around in the morning, I can take you out for breakfast?" Jake asked, and you blushed.

"Yes. Of course." You quickly agreed, and he grinned wildly.

"See ya later." And with that, he left in his cab.

***

Finally you got what you had been desperately wishing for.

Tonight's dream featured a masked man. He was in the same clothing as Jake's, and he plagued your dreams tonight. He dashed along the rooftops, hud in dark corners, and he beat up a couple of thugs. Half way through, his clothing switched to a brilliant white suit, and he started whacking people with two truncheons. Near the end of the night, his suit changed yet again, and it was the cloak and wrapping look.

More thugs are taken down, then some are tied up and carted away, only to be thrown into the trunk of the cab. Some are outright killed, left behind to rot. You peer closely at the man in your dreams, noting that when he changes back, he's Jake again, but this one is different. This one has different gloves, and a slightly different jacket to one you have been hiring to drive you around.

Then the view pans to the bird man, this one with the shendyt, and no chains. He peers at you, filling your body with a cold feeling.

"You're in the wrong place, little one. Wake up."

***

You wake with a start to a heavy pounding on your door. You roll out of bed and answer it. There Jake is, looking bagged and tired. He looks freshly showered, and he's in black sweatpants and a hoodie. He's got his hat on, otherwise you would have figured one of his alters had come out.

Speaking of which, he hasn't told you about that yet, and you would wait until he did.

He took you out for breakfast at some local diner. It was very greasy, but it was delicious. He insisted on paying, and then he took you for a drive around the city, free of charge. He had you up in front with him as he told you how shitty his night was, without actually telling you what he did. You happily listened to him talk, and then by lunch time, he was looking worse for wear. You suggested he go back to the hotel and go to sleep, and he agreed.

When you got back, he did something strange. He parked the car directly in front of your door, he stripped off his jacket, his hat and he handed you his keys, and said you could borrow his car if you needed to. After, he went into his little hotel room, and you figured you wouldn't be seeing him for at least eight hours. You left to grab your weed and a beer, and you sat on the bumper of his car as you drank and smoked a joint while scrolling through your phone.

About twenty minutes later, Jake's door opened, banging off its hinges as a disoriented man came stumbling out and looking very confused. Your face fell, knowing he must have been tired enough to allow one of his alters to come out, and you waited to see if this man was the timid one, or the one that was a bit grumpy like the eagle from Sesame Street.

This man was wearing a large baby blue sweater, and Jake's sweat pants and shoes. He was frantically looking all around while patting himself down, like he was desperately looking for his wallet. You remembered from your dreams that Jake would hide his alters belongings in the trunk of his cab. You quickly opened it, finding a dark khaki jacket, and a wallet inside. You quickly checked it, seeing two identification cards inside, one that said Marc Spector, the other that said Steven Grant.

Oh. So this version of the man you had seen in your dreams was at least aware of one of his alters, and judging by the fact Jake had their stuff in his car, and not in the hotel room, said quite a lot about their situation. You grinned, thinking up a quick plan to help the guy out, and you shut Jake's trunk as you sauntered on over with the jacket.

"Excuse me, sir!" You called out to him while waving the jacket around. The man's eyes lit up, and a look of pure relief formed on his face. He trotted on up to you with a sheepish smile while he wrung his hands together in his sleeves.

"Uh, hello. Is that my jacket?"

"I was going to ask you if it was your jacket. I… I found it outside in the parking lot." You quickly lied, hoping this man wasn't aware of Jake, otherwise he'd know right quick that you were lying.

But he just smiled, and nodded then reached out for his jacket.

"Thanks, love. I'd lose my head if it wasn't screwed on. Though it is somewhat loose if you ask me." He chuckled as he threw the jacket on and checked his pockets. More relief washed over his face when he found his wallet.

"Oh man. I'm so happy you found this. All my money and cards are in it. Marc would be furious with me if I lost it." He muttered as he tried to reward you with a hundred dollar bill. You shoved his hand away and shook your head.

"No thanks. I'm happy to see the rightful owner get it back. That's good enough for me. I saw two IDs in that wallet. Ya got a twin, or are you one of those suave spies?" You said in a teasing manner. The man blushed and looked away.

"Oh, uh… I am Steven. The other ID is… Uh… You wouldn't understand…" He muttered softly as he ran a hand through his unruly hair. You saw some movement on the roof, and it was that weird bird man again. You switched to looking at the cab, then you lit another joint. Steven scrunched up his nose at the smell of the weed burning and wafting towards him.

"Sorry, but I betcha I would." You replied with a sly smile as you moved a bit away from him so the smoke would not go to him. You leaned on the car, and waited for him to reply.

"Oh, well, if you're a cabbie, you've probably seen much crazier people than myself… Haha… Well, I have Dissociative Identity Disorder. It means-"

"Gotcha. I know what that means. No need to explain to me. Are you confused as to where you are, then?" You asked, and he nodded.

You told him that you had seen him hanging around and drinking by the pool a lot. He seemed skeptical, but he accepted your answer. He asked if he talked to you during that time, because he and Marc couldn't remember shit.

You said he was drunk off his ass, but he wasn't a bother. That he sat back and just stayed quiet, then would go to sleep most of the day on one of the loungers in the shade. He huffed at that information, but he seemed happy that he didn't do anything dangerous while he was out. You told him to check with the front desk to see how long his reservation was for. You told him you'd be around for another week, before heading back home, so if he needed any help, or a ride anywhere, you'd help him out. You figured Jake wouldn't be mad that you used his own car to chauffeur his alters around. Well, you hoped he wouldn't be.

You spent a week with Steven and Marc, with no sign of Jake anywhere. He obviously trusted you enough with his cab to stay in the background of his alters. The last day you planned to be there, you panicked a little, because Jake still hadn't come out, and you still had his keys.

You had a decision to make. Stay and keep holding onto this man's keys in the hopes he would come back, or leave his keys someplace where he would find them. You decided to stay, and you booked yet another week in the hotel.

It was a good thing you did, because Steven had shown up two days later, asking if you could drive him to a place to buy a new phone. Apparently Marc had smashed theirs the previous night when he was out for a jog, and Steven was furious about it. You got him to a store, and he bought a new phone. After, you took him back to the hotel. It felt weird driving a cab that didn't belong to you, but by now it was comforting, because everytime you climbed into the car, it smelled like them.

***

The dreams you had this week had switched back to the doctor. Your world's Stephen Strange. He looked like he'd been through hell and back, and soon, you would find out that he was actually going to hell. You caught glimpses of him in a dark room, candles lit everywhere, summoning creature after creature, and then he would weaken them with attacks. When the final blow was to be dealt, he would absorb it, the creature screaming in agony as he ripped their souls and powers from their bodies.

They were disturbing, and you knew enough from your visions and what Wong had told you, that this was not good. Whatever this Strange was planning, it was a danger to this world. You went back to the Sanctum to show Wong your memories of your dreams, and he looked scared. He explained to you that he had been lying about Stephen, and that he knew the doctor was planning on doing something forbidden.

That's when Wong told you about Christine. You had nearly forgotten all about that dream where she died. Wong told you what had happened, and it matched the dream perfectly. She died, he lived, and he blamed himself for it. He planned to go back in time and try to save her, even though he knew damn well that could possibly tear this reality into pieces.

That was not good.

It was bad. So very, very bad. If the doctor was successful, this universe could go right to shit.

But lucky for you, that wouldn't happen for a while, not that you would know it.

You moved to New York, not really giving a shit about your things at home. You had no family left, not pets, or plants to care for. Just an empty farm house with old furniture.

Steven had vanished for a day or so. You figured Marc was on the prowl, probably doing only their God knows what. You desperately wanted to talk to someone about the possibility of the world crumbling apart, but Wong had asked you not to tell any mortal soul-

Wait.

The bird man. Maybe he could help? You knew he referred to himself as a God, so maybe he could do something, but you hadn't seen him for two days either.

Luck was on your side that night when Marc came back to the hotel looking like someone had beat the snot out of him. You saw him yell at the tall being, then he went into his room, slamming the door shut. You wasted no time in leaping from your spot at the gazebo. No one else was around, and you wanted to catch the deity before he faded away into the night.

"Hey, hey! Excuse me. Uh, hello? Big bird guy." You shouted just loud enough to get his attention, but not enough to alert Marc. The bird man tilted his head at you, surprised you had the balls to approach him.

"Are you addressing me, a God? The almighty Khonshu-!"

"Yes. You. I'm talking to you!"

"What the fuck do you want?" This version glared as his chains rattled in an effort to scare you. You laughed at him, which earned you a loud growl of disapproval.

"What do you know about mortals manipulating time to try and save a loved one?" You inquired, and he huffed, like you were dampening his day. But he had nothing better to do, so he moved to sit and stare at you.

"It's been done before. It's no big deal… Unless it is a fixed point of time, or an absolute event." He explained and he rested his skull in his hand.

"What happens if it is a fixed point in time?"

"Then trying to undo the event could destroy this reality. Everything and everyone who is not capable of moving over to a different reality, would perish." He said so casually, like it wasn't something he was worried about in the slightest.

"I know of someone trying to do this. I'm not sure if it's a fixed point in time, but the sorcerer supreme, Wong, mentioned he thinks a woman’s death is one of those absolute time events. If she didn't die, Dr. Strange would never have become a sorcerer." You explained to him, carefully leaving out all of the other realities where it was his hands that were damaged, and not Christine. Khonshu went deathly silent as he pondered your words.

"After a quick glance into the matter, I see now that there is a very high possibility of this sorcerer destroying this world. I cannot allow that to happen."

"I sure hope you can do something about it. I'm scared that he has already amassed enough power to start trying. He's been summoning demons and spirits, and absorbing their powers through their souls." You explained either a heavy sigh.

"I shall do some research and get back to you. I'll make my knight stay in the area…"

"Thank you-"

"No. Thank you, little one. You've kept Jake's cab safe while he's been away, and you've kept his existence a secret. I appreciate that." And with that, he vanished into the void, just as the curtain to Marc's hotel room opened. You froze, realizing you were standing right in front of it, and you sheepishly waved.

The man that came out grinned at you, and he held himself differently than Marc. He looked you over, then he held out his hand.

"Hola, señorita. May I have my keys, please? I'd like to grab my cigarettes." He asked. He spent about a half an hour with you, before he excused himself to go back to bed.

***

The next day the cab was gone, and you sighed. You wished he was there to drive you to the Sanctum, but alas, he was not. You decided to try the ring you had, hoping it worked the way Wong had shown you. It did work, but you ended up being shot from the roof to the floor in the main lobby, right in front of Wong, and some bald person.

"Ah, there is our self taught sorceress. This is the Ancient One." Wong introduced you to the person standing before you. From what you could tell, this was a woman, but you could be wrong.

"Hello. It's good to meet you." You said with the customary bow, and the Ancient One bowed back with a smile.

"I have been told of your dreams. They are an alarming warning about our dear friend. I'm afraid to admit that Dr. Stephen Strange has become a danger to himself and to this world. We might need your help to stop him, since he has never met you before."

"I wish to help in any way that I can."

From that day forward, you were asked to train at the Sanctum. Both Wong and the Ancient One taught you so much more than you could have learned by yourself. Physical defence was a key part of their discipline, and that was an aspect your dreams didn't exactly show you. You would go to train everyday, then at night time, you would get driven back to the hotel by Jake. You'd have more dreams about the doctor, and they became more terrifying as time went by.

He summoned bigger and more powerful creatures, almost never stopping to sleep or eat. Every day you would report back to your teachers, showing them your dreams. Every day they would teach you how to use your own body to attack or defend yourself, using the magic you learned to enhance their teachings.

One night was different from the rest. The doctor was confronted by the Ancient One. It ended up in the doctor being split into two, and the darker, more evil of them, fled into the night.

Weeks went by, with the better side of the doctor joining the Sanctum. He spent his days searching the library, trying to figure out how to defeat his other self, while the evil version got stronger and stronger.

You barely got to directly speak to him, as he would be sitting and reading. Stacks of books from all over littered his desk. You would quietly help him, by trying to look into the books he had already read, to see if you could catch something his eagle eyes missed. During these times, his cape would become agitated that its master was ignoring him, and Stephen would sometimes demand you entertain the sentient cloak so he could continue his research unbothered.

You reluctantly did it, because you hoped to earn some brownie points with him. You soon found out the cloak was a delightful little creature. It acted much like an animal, a cross between a dog and cat. It enjoyed playing fetch, and it went bat shit crazy over a laser pointer. It enjoyed being touched, and sometimes it would follow you to the bathroom, shoving a corner of itself under the door like a cat trying to get in.

Only a few times did Stephen take the time to talk to you. Once when he thanked you for taking the cloak out for a walk, again when you brought him a stack of books he hadn't read yet, and the last time was to ask you to take care of the cloak, should he ever perish.

You learned nothing from him, except that he regretted ever becoming a sorcerer in the first place.

***

Every so often, the odd being would show up, informing you that he had been trying to locate the dark doctor, but because he was split into two, the old bird kept being directed towards the good one. Wherever the bad one was, he wasn't in this plane of existence, but he was still in this universe.

Eventually you had a dream where the dark sorcerer was summoning more beasts, only for it to backfire. A small and not very powerful bug creature appeared, wearing a cape. The doctor took the cape, and incinerated the insect, then he just kept going into the night.

Just the fact that he was doing this was weakening the structural integrity of the universe. You shuddered to think how much worse he could make it, if he started trying to reverse his lost love's death.

***

It got worse about a month later. The good Dr. Strange had left to find his bad side, and to try and fight him to save the universe. The dream you were having right now, proved that the evil side was more powerful, and he absorbed his other half after he defeated him. His cape had managed to flee the scene with the ring it had slipped from its master's fingers.

Now that he was whole, he paused, and his head turned to look directly at you, his dark soulless eyes staring right into yours. You panicked, because that meant he could see you in the dreams.

"Don't try to stop me. I'll kill your precious little cabbie, and his alters, if you try. Not even that useless bird god can stop me."

And then you woke up.

You were sweating, shaking, and trembling. It wasn't just the fact that the doctor had seen you, then outright threatened you. It was the fact you knew you were going to die. Everyone, everywhere, from the farthest corners of the universe, all would be perishing soon. There would be no afterlife for anyone, just nothingness as they ceased to exist.

You panicked more and more, and you left your hotel room, going outside for a joint. It could be very well the last one that you ever had.

Jake was standing outside, smoking as he sat in his car. He saw you come out and snap your fingers to light your joint, then he watched you pace back and forth as you power puffed the doobie. He got out of his car to see what was wrong, and you told him all about the problems that were plaguing you. He quietly listened, and at some point, he glanced up to the rooftops, and you looked, too. There Khonshu was and his shoulders were slumped.

"I'm afraid to inform you that he has begun. He's tried three times already, and now the edges of this universe are starting to crumble. This plane of existence is cracking at an alarming rate, and my guess is that it will be a matter of days, perhaps weeks, until this universe crumbles to dust." Khonshu muttered as he gripped his staff tightly. He looked up at the moon, and then down at his Avatar.

"Is there anything we can do?" You asked, but the way he hummed and looked away, told you what the answer would be.

"No. This world is dying. The Ancient One and Wong are both dead. Most of the Avengers have tried to best him, and they have all failed. Even the mighty God of thunder has perished. Unless this Supreme Strange is killed, or stops trying, there will be no way to save this world. Even I cannot turn back the clock to do it. The only thing I can do is jump ship, and abandon this universe altogether, fusing with one of my alternate versions of myself." Khonshu explained that he couldn't do anything. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

You were scared to die, but for some reason, you were more concerned about his Avatar.

"What about… What about everyone else? What about Jake, Marc, and Steven?" You asked as you fiddled with the ring Wong had given you.

"I can protect him from succumbing to the dark voids that break reality, at least until this world is gone. I can bring him with me, but only him. No one else." Khonshu said the words carefully. You could tell he wasn't trying to be mean or calloused towards you. He probably didn't have the power to take you with them. You didn't try to argue. You didn't try to beg for your own life to be spared. You merely hung your head, happy to know the man with many faces would be safe.

"Wait a minute, boss. What about her?" Jake suddenly spoke up in a panicked tone. He wasn't happy to hear that you would be left here to die.

"She will be fine like you will be, at least until everything fails again. I cannot take her with me to the next universe. You know this already. It's not that I don't want to, I just can't. I could, if I had my true form back, but the other Gods won't give me back my soul that was sealed away in a desert opal. They threw it into the sands of the Duat, and I haven't seen it in a few thousand years." Khonshu muttered with a huff and a heavy sigh.

"Then we must go find this pearl. If we cannot save this world, we can at least try to save her. Please boss…" As Jake pleaded with Khonshu, you heard the whispers again. It sounded like Khonshu was speaking to you, but in your mind, yet the god appeared to be oblivious.

"Your necklace… Show him the necklace…"

You looked around and reached into your shirt, pulling out the greenish glowing opal. Khonshu tilted his head and stepped forward.

"My opal! Where did you get that?!" He snapped as he tried to snatch it from you, but Jake blocked him and snarled.

"Easy, boss. Perhaps be a little nicer. She just found out she's going to die soon."

"Fine. Where did you get that? Please tell me." He sounded only slightly nicer, but you told how you acquired it. He was confused as to how you found it in the desert on Earth, when he was told it was tossed into the Duat. It didn't matter to him that you had it, all that mattered was that it was there, and it wasn't a trick.

Eventually you gave it to him, and Khonshu stuck the opal into the gaping hole where his neck should have been. Slowly he reformed to what the old depictions of him looked like. He had skin and feathers again, his body not nearly as thin as it used to be. The gold he was adorned with was shiny and new as the day they were created. Even his shendyt was perfectly clean and brand new, like he hadn't been stuck in a tomb for thousands of years. He seemed quite pleased.

He stood taller and now you could see the expressions in his eyes, instead of the dark holes they once were. The thick ghostly chains that had surrounded him had changed into thin silver and gold jewelry.

He agreed to try to try and save this world, now that he was whole again, and at the very least, take you with him if all else failed. He demanded you and Jake get some rest, because tomorrow would truly be a test of strength and will.

***

Thank you

Beta/proof readers: @Moonmoonboys

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