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It was a typical evening meal at Kamar Taj. The dining hall had been one of the first places rebuilt to its former glory so that the residents could continue to commune and reflect upon the losses they had suffered together. It had been months since the Scarlet Witch’s attack and as the hall was filled with the soft glow of candles and the light chatter of idle conversations, the sorcerers at Kamar Taj were basking in a peaceful night.
That was until a portal suddenly opened from above and a body fell through onto one of the tables.
There was a sharp gasp and the room fell silent as everyone in the room jumped to their defensive stances. But the portal quickly closed and nothing followed the body’s abrupt entrance.
The stunned silence was broken by a frightened female voice calling out, “Oh my god! Stephen? Stephen!” Everyone turned to look at the body laying on the dining table, cutlery and dishes strewn about it, and the gathered sorcerers were shocked to come face to face with the Master of the New York Sanctum himself, Stephen Strange. His robes were in tatters and his body was covered in cuts and bruises. His distinctive Cloak was nowhere to be seen.
The original voice that had recognized Strange was that of America Chavaz, who had been sitting at the end of the long dining table with the younger recruits. She ran to get to Strange, but she was quickly grabbed by two of the older sorcerers. “Let me go!” she yelled out, “I have to see him! Is he dead?” Her voice was getting more frantic with each word, panic setting in.
Mistress Yulia, the head healer, jumped into action and came to stand in front of Stephen. She was an older woman with gray hair done in long braids, and was an intimidating figure. Yulia cast a spell in front of her face allowing her to access Strange’s vitals quickly. “He is alive,” she said in her thick Eastern European accent, “But his pulse is weak and his breathing shallow.”
“Is he going to be okay?” asked America, still struggling weakly to get to Stephen.
“My dear,” said Yulia, turning to America, “I will do everything I can to help Master Strange, I promise you this.” Addressing her fellow disciples she directed them to lift Stephen via magic and bring him to the infirmary.
America wanted so badly to follow but the older sorcerers once again held her back. “What am I supposed to do? Go back to dinner? Stephen could be dying!” Her expressive brown eyes were threatening to overflow with tears.
One of the sorcerers shook his head, “No, here’s what you can do: go fetch Master Wong. He’s in the library.”
America swallowed and nodded her head, happy to have a task to keep her from panicking over Stephen. She turned and ran to the library, her training robes waving behind her. When she entered the room, Wong looked up at her from his place at the table inspecting a few volumes. He tilted his head and gave her a smile.
“America, what brings you here in such a hurry?”
“It’s Stephen!” America yelled out frantically and Wong’s smile dropped as he stood, “He just fell through a portal onto the dining table. And he’s really hurt! He’s with Mistress Yulia and she said something about his breathing being shallow and his pulse being weak.”
“Hey, hey,” said Wong, “Deep breaths okay?” America didn’t even realize she had been growing panicked and stopped to close her eyes and steady her breathing like she had been taught in her meditation classes.
“I’m just so scared, Wong. He looked really bad,” said America after she had regained control.
“I know America. But I get to the bottom of this.”
Wong and America went to the infirmary and waited impatiently outside for any news about Stephen. Occasionally a disciple of Yulia’s would run out for more supplies and Wong would make them update him on Stephen’s condition, but they didn’t really know much yet.
America ended up sitting against the wall with her arms around her legs and Wong came to sit next to her. America didn’t have the warmest feelings for the Sorcerer Supreme, considering he had almost resorted to killing her just like others before him, but their relationship was improving. When she had first learned to open regular portals all she wanted to do was open them to the New York Sanctum, wanting to be around Stephen because he made her feel comfortable and safe. But she was making friends at Kamar Taj and now her trips to New York were less of a necessity. It helped that Stephen made a point to come eat lunch with her and Wong at least a few times a week.
Finally Yulia came out into the hallway herself gesturing them inside. “He’s as stable as I could get him. But his meridians are terribly unbalanced and his temperature and heart rate are fluctuating as a result.”
America and Wong walked into the room where Stephen lay on a low bed. He had been stripped and he had been dressed in loose pajama pants. On his chest the sorcerers had drawn runes that would suddenly glow as his breathing quickened and his face creased with pain.
“Do you have any idea what happened?” asked Wong.
Yulia gazed at her patient before turning to the Sorcerer Supreme, “His primary injuries are not physical, they are mystical . Master Strange has used magic to such a degree that it was almost like magical elements had become interwoven with his soul and well – it’s like all of those elements have been suddenly ripped out.”
Wong’s body stiffened, “Mordo.”
Yulia nodded gravely, “I do believe so.”
“Can I hold his hand?” asked America from her position close to the bed. She’d only been half-listening to their conversation, watching the runes on Stephen’s chest flare to life and then fade at different intervals.
“Oh child, no that would not be a good idea,” said Yulia, “His hands are probably one of his greatest sources of pain right now. I’m sure that Strange has been channeling magic into his nervous system to lessen the pain, even if it’s just subconsciously. That is gone now.”
“Because of this Mordo guy?” asked America, “We met a Mordo in that flowery universe, the one with the pizza balls. He had dreadlocks, he drugged us. Stephen said he had vowed to kill him, what’s his deal?”
Wong sighed, “Mordo believed in upholding our laws above all else. And when he realized that Stephen would be willing to break those laws in order to save those who needed saving, he decided to target Stephen.”
“But why didn’t he kill him? Why send him here?”
“Well without his magic he must think Stephen isn’t a threat anymore, death isn’t necessary. Also I suspect we were supposed to take this as a warning.”
Their conversation halted when Stephen let out a whimper. Yulia walked over to her patient and accessed him quickly, before turning back to Wong, “If he makes it through the night, then he will probably be out of danger. But I have done all that I can do, and I can only continue monitoring his vitals.”
At that Yulia swept out of the room, America giving her a disgusted look as she left. The young girl whirled on Wong. “So we are just giving up? That’s it? That’s stupid! Stephen wouldn’t give up on us!”
“Stephen is strong,” said Wong, grasping America’s shoulder in comfort. “And he’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever known. He will pull through this. Todo va a estar bien, no te preocupes.”
America shook him off, “And what it isn’t? What if his body suddenly gives out? How could I live with myself knowing that I could…” America trailed off as she stared at the injured sorcerer, flexing her hands.
“You could what, America?”
“I could take him somewhere that could help him. That could save him.”
“America– you cannot traverse the multiverse at a whim to fix every problem.”
“This isn’t a mild inconvenience! This is Stephen! And okay, say he does pull through, is Stephen just supposed to live without being able to do magic? What would he do? Where would he go, Wong? Would he lose the Sanctum, his home?”
Wong tensed at the suggestion that he would abandon Stephen so easily, “I would never do that, America.” Wong remembered how Stephen looked when he had arrived at Kamar Taj. He was bedraggled and bitter and Wong would rather die than subject him to that life again If Stephen had truly lost all magical ability, that would deal with that. An alive Stephen Strange was better than the alternative.
America gave him a smile, “That’s good.”
Stephen let out a moan, cut off by a sharp cry as the runes on his chest continued their luminescent dance. His face was sweat-sheened and his forehead was creased, the battle inside his body was obvious.
“So what do we do now?” asked America, sinking down in a chair next to Stephen’s bedside.
“What do you want to do?”
America laughed, “You mean other than punch a portal open to a universe where someone could instantly rewire Stephen’s mystical pathways and restore his magic?”
“Yeah, let’s save that one as a last resort.”
The girl turned, locking eyes with Wong, “Why are you asking me? You’re the Sorcerer Supreme.”
“Well,” said Wong, “I think we have a couple of options. We could leave now and go to the New York Sanctum, find the cloak, and hunt down Mordo and make him fix this. Or we could stay here, by Stephen’s bedside.”
“You would take me with you to go after Mordo? Not another sorcerer?”
“I think Ms. Chavez, that it’s pretty clear that we are the two people that care for Stephen Strange most in this world. It seems appropriate that it would be us to go on this mission. Plus, I figure you would just follow me anyway.”
“Damn right I would,” said America, then she paused to weigh the options, “Do you think we can do both? Stay here until morning and then go after Mordo? I just–I don’t think he should be alone.”
“Yulia and the medics are on the other side of the wall, if anything changes their wards will immediately alert them.”
“Yeah, but they aren’t us. They aren’t Stephen’s people.” The word family hung in the air between them. For a girl who had lost her original family so suddenly, and had been alone for so long, it was difficult for her to grasp that he was becoming a part of another one again.
“Okay, America Chavez,” said Wong, moving to bring a chair beside her and sitting down, “We will hold vigil here, making sure Stephen will pull through. Then we will go make Mordo pay and fix what he has done.” He stuck out a hand for her to shake in agreement.
America took it with a smile, “Yeah, that sounds good.”
The two settled in for a long, tense night, preparing to make their family whole again.