𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 — bruce?

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 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐌 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 that stood upon the paved streets of New York city was usually silent; Emilia and Stephen worked in tandem with one another, after all, they were closer than ever before, able to understand what the other was thinking with the slightest of looks.

 Wong often visited, though he still took pride in his duties within the Kamar-Taj, a librarian and a master to students that continued to bustle and learn, even despite the incident — Which was putting it loosely — With Kaecilius.

 Or perhaps that was all an excuse for the long-time sorcerer, after all, Emilia and Stephen were a couple. The librarian felt boundless happiness for his former students, for he'd known Emilia for such a time where she felt nothing but solemn sadness and fear.

 As for Stephen, Wong regarded the man highly; he respected the newer Sorcerer's abilities, especially considering the way in which Stephen had handled the Eye of Agamotto, or rather, the Time Stone.

 Each of the three had their duties; Wong to both the Kamar-taj and each Sanctum. Stephen, the new Master of the New York Sanctum kept his eyes and ears peeled for any person, or creature that could possibly threaten their world... Or even the Multiverse, for that matter. As for Emilia, her duties were not as set in stone as the others.

 Emilia Clemente and Stephen Strange often shared their responsibilities, for they were new to them both. There had been instances of disruption; days where Stephen would hastily whirl Emilia away to deal with a threat, only for the two to return home after a job well done, and collapse side by side in bed, leaving their wounds and bruises to be tended to the following day.

 Emilia and her abilities were still... At odds, one might say. Control did not come easy to the woman, for fear was her greatest obstacle, and after the revelation that her powers had stemmed from Dormammu... Well, the fear that shrouded her heart was insurmountable.

 Emilia's purpose was to create chaos and destruction, or at least it had been. Her powers over gravitons and the gravitational field were truly her own the moment she had bent them to her will instead of the other way around. They were hers and hers alone, and yet she still had not mastered the art of controlling them. But she was getting there.

 When the unlikely duo wasn't chasing after threats, or arguing over petty little things that eventually made the pair break and laugh, they trained. Stephen after over a year and a half of training within the Kamar-Taj, and eight months honing his abilities further when he had faced Dormammu, had such mastery over the mystic arts, that it was only natural he would take over the Ancient One's former position of trainer for Emilia.

 The Mirror Dimension was an all too familiar place for them both; training within such a space allowed for little destruction, for little pain, and whilst both Emilia and Stephen would walk away with an extra bruise or the makings of a new scar; neither much cared.

 Stephen trusted Emilia, and he trusted her abilities. Over time the outbursts she'd once had, well they ceased. No longer did her abilities rupture in the midst of the night, and no longer did they tear items and artefacts from shelves without her knowledge or permission. That didn't mean they were fully controlled, nor did it mean that they had discovered her limits.

 That, for Emilia, was the most terrifying part. Having an unknown limit... Or perhaps even being limitless.

 Emilia and Stephen had grown since the battle with Kaecilius and Dormammu; they were both stronger and both wiser... Closer. Their relationship had blossomed on the day of their victory, they had each trusted the other with things that nobody else had ever seen or heard before. Their trust within one another was unshakable.

 They were not the kind of people to announce their relationship and express it publicly; for it was theirs and theirs alone. Days of reading ancient books and leather-bound pages with warm tea by their sides, days of training and relentlessly teasing, or even nights spent lying awake, bare skin against bare skin as they whispered to one another; that was their relationship.

 Though they hadn't changed completely. Stephen was, in full, still a moron. He often spoke without thinking, allowed his arrogance to overcome his wisdom, as did his need to fix everything... and he was just... Stephen. Emilia, of course, still held her original fear, she still gasped awake some nights with sweat trailing down her back as flickers of amber and crimson alighted behind her eyelids. She was still haunted by her past ghosts, but no longer did she wish to run from them.

 Emilia, whilst guilt still bubbled in her gut at the mere thought of the people she'd harmed, had accepted everything that had come to pass. She had accepted that her abilities had come from a monster, she had accepted that such abilities had taken lives and injured many; and now she was more determined than ever to claim them fully, to fight and protect with them.

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 There were many nooks and crannies within the Sanctum Sanctorum, and throughout the sixteen months that had passed since Kaecilius and Dormammu had threatened the very Earth they stood upon, neither Emilia nor Stephen had discovered them all.

 There were rooms that resembled libraries; tall wooden shelves that teetered and threatened to topple over lined their walls, obscuring the old and fading wallpaper behind them. Books containing spells and stories cluttered such shelves alongside miscellaneous rumpled papers and various artefacts.

 Others contained collections of old items with what Emilia would assume to be useful traits. For one, there was The Yellow Sash; an odd little piece of material that one would wrap around their waist like a belt; it could be extended ten times past its usual length. There was The Cauldron of the Cosmo's; though this such object now regally stood upon a pedestal at the foot of the entryways staircase; this such item allowed one to 'dwell upon the immutable mysteries of the universe for hours on end; Stephen used it here and there.

 Those were just two of the dust-lined items Emilia and Stephen had found tucked away in a room that must have been long forgotten. There was, of course, even the Sanctum Sanctorum itself; due to the magic imbued within each and every brick that kept the building stretching tall, it was deemed an artefact itself.

 Then there had been a copious amount of empty, musty rooms. Neither Emilia nor Stephen could quite recall just how long they had spent dusting and scrubbing the entire building on the day they had arrived to call the place their new home.

 Such empty rooms had been cleared and converted into safe spaces to simply sit back without a worry for the multiverse that constantly seemed on the edge of exploding in their faces.

 Emilia had been in one such room on the day the world began to end.

 Mahogany shelves creaked from their places above a slate-grey fireplace; the flames were doused, not a single sliver of amber or crimson in sight, for Emilia still felt her skin crawl wherever it was threatened by the heat.

 An old rug with tattered and frayed edges was beneath her. It did little to provide comfort from the cold, hard wooden flooring, but it had been better than nothing. A single candle flickered away on the table behind her; the dark oak was faded and yet the deep scent of its old wood permeated the room, as did the smell of jasmine that flittered with every tiny puff of smoke that drifted above the candlewick.

 Emilia's legs were crossed and the material of her joggers had ridden up her ankles, landing around halfway up her calf, revealing the socks that protected her feet from the cool ground; they were a pale pink, covered in cherries. A small line of goosebumps littered the revealed skin on her midriff, the area her cropped, ivory jumper that matched her joggers was reluctant to cover.

 The full fringe that had once obscured Emilia's forehead had been grown out, all traces of blonde that had streaked through the long tendrils of her hair had vanished, and the length was far shorter than it had been. The bundle of chestnut brown hair now fell just below her collar bones. The top half had been wrangled into something akin to a ponytail, strands had fallen out here and there, tickling the skin of her face as she did her best to focus on her breathing.

 She had been feeling... Out of sorts for the past hour. An odd sensation had bubbled in her gut, twisting like a knife that warned her of something to come. Thus, in the midst of a soft-spoken conversation with Stephen about their plans for lunch, she had left with an apologetic smile to meditate.

 Emilia's intertwined fingers rested in her lap, brushing the fuzzy material of her joggers, whilst a sigh slipped from barely parted lips. Usually Emilia found that meditation came with ease, yet today her mind would not rest, and the electricity jittering over her skin would not fade. Something was coming, but she couldn't tell what it was.

 Paranoia perhaps? No, that was a petty and bleak excuse, for Emilia's spontaneous feelings of disaster had yet to be proved wrong.

 Her fingers curled tighter, small crescents being carved into the skin of either hand before she tore them apart. She swallowed as she brought a hand down her face, "Just this once, I hope I'm wrong."

 "Wrong about what?" A gravelly tone came, one laced with concern.

 Emilia, despite the feeling that rattled her mind and itched at her skin, smiled at the man who had taken to leaning against the doorway. Stephen was clear of bruises and blood, dressed in his usual clothes rather than the deep blue robes he wore on their little excursions.

 The lines on his forehead were deeper as his brows pulled together, scanning her face. Emilia simply shrugged, her shoulders rising and falling in one short movement as she met his cerulean eyes, "I just have a bad feeling, that's all."

 Stephen nodded, the same small strand of hair that often infuriated him, flopped onto his forehead. He knew better than to ignore Emilia's intuition, for it proved to help them on more than one occasion in the past; from sensing danger to changes in the atmosphere; somewhere along the line, she had tapped into a hidden trait of her ability and had yet to hone it.

 For now, rather than dwell on the feeling that made Emilia curl her arms around her waist, the feeling that made her stare off into space with a frown, Stephen held out a hand, "Maybe you're hungry, you do get a little cranky when you're hungry."

 "Cranky?" Emilia scowled as she snapped her attention back to Stephen, rather than the dust particles illuminated by the light streaming in from the window to the far wall. There was no malice in her tone, nor the sneer... But more of a pout.

 Stephen's laugh, though she tried to keep her look or irritation, made her face slip into the easy smile that always alighted her face within his presence. Her own hand slipped into his, the tremors that shook his fingers vibrated against her own, but she scarcely noticed it these days

 Her fingers tangled with his own as Stephen helped to pull her to her feet, steadying her with another chuckle as Emilia's sock-clad feet slipped on the polished wooden floor. His eyes were shrouded with lines that only ever came in moments of genuine happiness and Emilia couldn't help but brush her free thumb over them.

 "Wong's joining us for lunch, he trusts you to pick a place," Stephen muttered, his voice lowering as a warmth spread on his skin beneath her touch.

 "He just doesn't want to eat at the place you picked before, does he?"

 Emilia's chest rose with a bubble of a laugh as she recalled the time, just a few months prior, that Stephen had been the one to choose where they'd eat out. He'd picked it on a whim and thoroughly regretted it the moment he had taken the first bite of his meal.

 Salt. All they could taste was pure salt; Emilia had ordered something sweet, so how on Earth it had managed to taste like the ocean was beyond her, a mystery even the Master of The Mystic Arts couldn't figure out.

 Stephen's eyes rolled as he too recalled the day, "He thinks if I pick the place, we'll end up with food poisoning."

 "Not a good rep for a doctor, hm?"

 "Oh, hush, you," Stephen grumbled as he plied her hand from his face, swiftly planting a soft kiss on the warm skin of her knuckles.

 Her lips quirked at the action, just as they always did. Emilia, and though she knew she would sound like a teenager, had never felt the way she did with Stephen before; she'd had boyfriends, a girlfriend, and flings here and there, but nothing that had brought her such calm and peace. Nothing that made her feel so whole.

 Emilia needed Stephen, she wouldn't ever deny that, and whilst that might not have been good for either of them; depending on the other so damn much, neither particularly cared. They were partners. They fought together, they trained, read and laid together from the moment Stephen had tumbled through the reluctant doors of the Kamar-Taj.

 He was important to her, and she was just as equally important to him. They hadn't fixed one another, it didn't work that way, but they softened the pain and kept one another standing when their legs threatened to give out.

 Emilia took another moment to survey the man in front of her; the way his eyes clung to her own before they'd flitter over features, only to dart back. The way he'd smile without noticing, the furrowed brow and usual deadpan stare disappearing when she was in view.

 The feeling in her stomach, the one that triggered her fight or flight instincts, had faded for now and was clearly replaced by a different feeling, for her stomach rumbled.

 Stephen quirked a brow as he stared down at the delightful flush that graced the apples of her cheeks, "Hungry?"

 "Meditating is tiresome." Emilia supplied with a coy grin as she lightly patted her stomach, "I want sushi."

 "Sushi it is." He threw an arm around Emilia's shoulders, warmth immediately enveloping them both like a heavy blanket as he began to lead them throughout the Sanctum. They walked with carefree strides as Stephen began to rattle off something about a spell he'd discovered in one of his many old books.

 Emilia could imagine the pages falling out, each one stained like a mug of black tea; they probably smelt like a musty attic that had been attacked with heavy rainfall. She nodded along, catching words here and there as he spoke in his usual face-paced voice that few could understand.

 He was animated as he spoke, his free hand waving in the air, whilst the other draped around Emilia, softly tapping at her bicep. His eyes were bright as he crookedly beamed and finally peered down at her, "Something on my face?"

 "No."

 "Staring again?"

His rather smug tone made her groan, her head falling back until it rested on his arm, "Rich coming from you —" She grinned as she poked his chest with her pointer, her silver ring glinting as she did so, "— Mr 'I watch you when you sleep'"

 "I don't ​​—"

 "Ha! Yes, you do!"

 "Stephen does what?" Wong chimed as the couple came into view atop the staircase. As per usual his form was draped in maroon robes. The Sorcerer who often sported a deadpan look had a slight smile, a single corner of his lips had tugged upwards upon hearing Stephen splutter as Emilia cackled away.

 Wong's duties to the sanctums remained unchanged; he often split his time between guarding the library of the Kamar-Taj with utmost diligence, to training students, and finally, splitting his attention between the Sanctums that stood mighty in Hong Kong, London, and finally, New York.

 He believed himself to be a fair man who split his time and efforts equally, yet it seemed as though a majority of his attention was drawn towards the very Sanctum he presently stood within.

 Emilia tilted her head, a stray strand of brunette tangled with her eyelashes and she swiftly batted it away, "Stephen watches me when I sleep."

 "I don't think I needed to know that." Wong muttered, as his brows pulled together.

 "No, you didn't." Stephen agreed as he glared at Emilia, "Because I don't."

 Emilia was going to argue, she really was, but upon seeing the flaring pink on the tips of Stephen's ears, she simply stifled a laugh and kept herself quiet. Torturing the man she loved was a familiar and favourite pastime, but they were often alone. It would occur during training, Emilia would utter something crude and Stephen would falter in his steps; no matter how many people believed him to be the composed Doctor he displayed himself to be, Emilia knew exactly who lived beneath such a facade.

 "Alright." She finally hummed, coming to stand on the tips of her cherry printed toes to get as close as she possibly could to looking him in the eyes, "You don't."

 A subtle breath of relief lifted Stephen's chest, but Emilia wasn't wrong. So often did Emilia tire herself from the constant training she forced her body and mind to endure, that Stephen would have to carry her back to their room and settle her under their plush covers. He would lay beside her, eyes glued to a peaceful face.

 Her parted lips that released slow and deep breaths, her eyes that flickered as she dreamt, her brows that would pull together here and there. She was a wonder to him, a light that so hopelessly believed itself to be darkness. He'd place a gentle, shaking hand to her cheek and trail a calloused fingertip along her scars, just as she often did with his hands.

 He'd mark a path with his fingers, delicately swiping hairs away from her skin as he did, muttering lowly to himself; hardly caring if she suddenly woke to attentive eyes.

 "So —" Emilia snapped him from his stupor, "Sushi?"

 "Sushi." Stephen nodded as he guided her down the creaking oak-wood stairs. Emilia's hand lightly trailed along the railing, whilst the other tangled with Stephens that dangled by her heart... That is, until a searing beam of light crashed through the roof of the Sanctum, swiftly decimating the staircase.

 Emilia's eyes blew wide as she spun, her arms arm to guard her face. Stephen wasted no time in jolting his arms, amber light spewed from them as he worked a quick and simple spell; the casual jeans and light grey t-shirt he'd been wearing had been replaced by the familiar deep blue robes he often favoured. The cloak of levitation had wasted no time in finding its master, dutifully draping itself on his shoulders. Emilia spared a short glance down at herself, finding the ivory sweats had been replaced by her own robes, though no longer did she wear maroon but rather a different shade of blue.

 Whilst Stephen was covered in a dark flood of navy, Emilia had chosen something closer to the colour that engrossed the objects she controlled; a pale blue. Black, flat, knee-high boots now adorned her feet, obscuring the view of the tight, black trousers that clung to her legs.

 Stephen was the first to approach the hole that had been carved into the stairs, Wong by his side in less than a second. They each sported dumbfounded looks as they held their hands out, amber tao mandala's twirling at their fingertips.

 And then Emilia approached, hearing their uninvited guest before seeing them.

 "Thanos is coming... He's coming..." The familiar voice gasped.

 Emilia crept forth, unaware of the fleeting look that Stephen had thrown her way, her heart thudded and her mouth slipped agape as she stared into the hole. A cloud of dust had erupted, debris and rubble littering where she stood, but neither hindered her from dropping down, slipping to her knees beside the man who gawked in utter bewilderment.

 She squinted through the dust, her voice a mere whisper on her tongue as she regarded the man she had once worked with, a man she had once considered to be a close friend, "Bruce?"

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01-01-2022

here is chapter one of act two; infinity war! i hope you all enjoyed this little introduction to act two, and just as a disclaimer:

I've decided that from now onwards, across all of my books, I won't even be thinking of releasing another chapter until we hit a certain amount of comments on the most recently released chapter: I don't care about reads and votes, I just want more people to interact via comments. it really isn't hard to leave a comment about how you felt about the chapter, or even thanking an author for what they've posted.

we authors spend so much time writing and plotting etc, for a majority of readers to just read and leave without any communication at all, and i'm done with that. the number of comments required for me to even begin thinking about posting another chapter will remain known only to me, but I really hope this makes more of you interact and stop ghost-reading (ghost-readers genuinely suck, and NO author likes them.)

have a wonderful day, and happy new year <3