𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 — to be a hero

━━━━━━━

 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 that after so much death and disparity... Emilia would have gotten used to the feeling of mourning. You'd think that looking into the eyes of a corpse, of a walking ghost would have gotten easier with time.

 From her parents to the Ancient One. From Stephen... and now to Tony. Things did not get easier, and time certainly couldn't heal all wounds.

 In the days following the moment Tony Stark had given his life to save them all, things seemed thick. It was like the air had been swallowed by heavy molasses, as though they were all trudging through crystallising honey. Each step was braced, pushed away, resisted.

 Emilia couldn't so much as remember breathing. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten from kneeling upon the ground before her fallen friend, to sobbing within the Stark's cabin.

 Most of the heroes had gone home to finally reunite with their revived loved ones; T'challa and his little sister returned to Wakanda. Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne had sought out Scott's not-so-little little girl. The others who didn't have a family awaiting their return, found solace within Avengers Tower for the nights proceeding.

 Emilia had tried to reason with Pepper Potts, she had tried to explain through tears and snivelling that she'd be just fine within the cool walls of the Avengers Tower but Pepper would have none of it. She simply couldn't allow their dear friend to mourn alone... and Pepper Potts decided that she rather needed Emilia in the room nearby as she slept within a cold bed.

 Emilia had blocked everything out, even as Stephen — who had most graciously accepted Pepper's extended invitation — flitted around her bedroom. He hadn't made a peep as he trailed the lengths of the wooden floor. His shaking fingers found picture frames, each one filled with Emilia and the Starks, Bruce Banner and Rhodey, even Nebula and Natasha.

 They were all tainted memories now, and Emilia hadn't spared a single glance at any of them.

 Emilia was silent as she sat there, at the very edge of her pristinely made bed. Not a single ruffle was in sight, each pillow was as fluffed as she'd left it before the battle. She didn't want to touch anything, afraid it might break as everything seemed to.

 It was hard to digest that in one moment, Tony had been there poking fun at a squabbling couple, only to give his life the next. She'd always see a harrowing sight upon thinking of him, yet no matter how hard she tried to think of the good... only charred skin and burnt features flashed before her eyes... they were ingrained.

 He'd left the world in pain... and yet somehow Tony Stark had made pain look peaceful. It had been his talent for quite some time, Emilia supposed.

 The bed dipped beside her, and as though those five years hadn't separated them... Emilia found her head toppling towards Stephen's shoulder. Second nature, muscle memory perhaps. They hadn't spoken properly, even still. She'd avoided him, he'd avoided her, they'd fought side by side... and then they'd mourned. There hadn't been time, and now they were afraid to take it.

 But Emilia wouldn't lose him again, and so she peered up only to find those cerulean eyes already trailing over her solemn features. He looked enraptured, though for Stephen, those five years hadn't even happened.

 His lips parted and hung there, open for a moment. He seemed to test the words upon his tongue, yet settled for something he seemed to endlessly repeat to her, "I'm sorry."

 Of course, Emilia could only think he was sorry for leaving without a word, sorry for her loss... yet it was so much more than that, so much more that Stephen simply couldn't delve into.

 Emilia stayed there, blinking through a haze while Stephen's shoulder rose and fell beneath her temple. They hadn't even shed their clothes, they hadn't even cleared the dust and blood from their flesh.

 "I know that you couldn't have said anything," She uttered softly. If there was one thing she could understand... it was the very fact that Stephen couldn't ever divulge his glimpses into the future. It was dangerous enough for him alone to know, to even tamper with time... but still, there was a slight swell of anger and sadness that she hadn't been warned, that she hadn't been prepared to live through a special type of hell.

 But that was what she'd signed up for, wasn't it? It couldn't have been any easier on him to keep such a secret, to know how far she'd fall in his absence.

 Then, she did narrow her gaze, fingers fiddling with the chain still enclosed around her neck, "What I don't understand, was this." With just one deft movement and a low click, the chain toppled from her collar and into her palm. There, practically glaring at Stephen with utter animosity... was the ring he'd left behind, "What the hell was that?"

 Stephen sighed, a low groan flooding from the very back of his throat, "It was supposed to be a promise. To let you know that I'd be coming back."

 Emilia almost seethed. Sure the intentions were perfectly... Well, Stephen. But what was even more Stephen, was the absolute lack of thought that had spurred his actions. To promise he'd return? How could anyone have possibly seen it that way? It seemed like a desperate attempt at a final goodbye, it felt like he had stabbed her in the heart by showing her a glimpse of a future they'd never be able to share.

 "It didn't feel like that." She said, "It felt like you'd handed me a broken promise. Something that — that I wanted but could never have. I thought you were saying goodbye to me, Stephen."

 His lips parted once more, that stupidly sharp cupid's bow suspended within the air. He almost apologised again, but that wasn't really good enough, was it? So Stephen took ahold of the chain, and merely pocketed it and the ring that hung like a glittering star.

 Emilia blinked, "What are you doing?"

 "I'll make sure I do it properly next time."

 Like that... suddenly everything was just a little more okay. Everything was just a little more how she'd remembered it.

 "I missed you."

 Those broken words had his hands moving upon their own accord. Each one came to her cheeks, feeling warmth and dust beneath his rattling palms. His fingers lingered, tracing the barest of circles against her flesh.

 She's missed it so much. The feeling of his hands, the hands that would never reach out to anybody else. The way they shook, the way his scars glittered like strings of pearls abandoned beneath ocean waves...

He remained there for a moment peering at her while she kept her eyes clamped shut, as though savouring the memory of his touch once again... like she was afraid he'd vanish if she opened them once more.

 "I love you." He said with so much conviction that his words pulled her eyelids up, fluttering lashes brushing his fingers.

 It was more than enough for all of that grief and all of the mourning she'd ever done for him... to bubble to the surface. It flooded, crashing like the most vicious of tidal waves. A sob blurted through her lips, her head dropping until her features were entirely obscured from view.

 Five years. Emilia had lived without that touch. She'd lived for so long without those three little words that caused her heart to thud ever faster.

 He said it again. Then again and again as though those words were a mantra. Each time, his fingers dipped lower and lower until he grasped her chin and brought her face higher. Tears trickled like an endless waterfall amidst the spring, her eyes had blossomed a shade of pink and her cheeks practically burned.

 Then he said two more words, ones in which she'd almost craved more than hearing 'I love you' from those lips of his. He brought her close, her cheek pressed against his beating heart, "I'm here."

 "Everybody wants a happy ending, right? But it doesn't always roll that way."

 If there was one thing that Emilia could have expected from Tony, it was a final monologue. She should have known that when he'd banished her from the lab to spend some 'quality time' with his suit, he'd leave something behind.

 That was who he was. He left an impression no matter where he went, he left behind words to soothe the ones he loved even in times when he couldn't be with them. His likeness stood before the small group gathered within the cabin; Emilia was beside Pepper, Morgan somehow managing to squeeze in the tiniest gap between them.

 Stephen was there, even if he did feel rather out of place... but Pepper had known that Emilia needed a hand on her shoulder, his hand. So there he was, draped within a black suit, a tie rolling down his chest. His hair had been slicked back until Emilia's fingers had pried those irritating little strands free to brush his forehead in the way that she loved.

 Bruce and Rhodey were with them, as was Steve, Thor and Clint. His team, the people that had known him longest. The one person missing... was Natasha. Emilia knew they were together, likely standing side by side poking fun at one another, poking fun at how stupidly self-sacrificing they both were.

 Peter and May were in the room, too. The poor kid had been completely silent the entire time, trying with all his might to keep his back straight and head held high. He'd almost cracked when Emilia had squeezed his arm.

 Tony seemed to pace the room, almost flaunting himself just as always... at least that never changed. His holographic self grinned, "Maybe this time it will, huh?" His eyes seemed to flicker to the side for a moment, "I'm hoping that if you play this back, it's in celebration. I hope families are reunited, I hope we get it back, and something like a normal version of this stupid planet is restored. If there ever was a normal..."

 Emilia swallowed the lump building within her throat, it was resistant. It had been there from the moment the sun had split through her windows, dousing herself and Stephen with its light... almost like Tony himself was right there to piss them off one last time.

 Tony sighed, fingers trailing through the light smattering of stubble lining his hologram's chin, "God, what a world. Universe, now. If you told me ten years ago that we weren't alone, you know, to this extent, I mean, I wouldn't have been surprised. But come on, you know? The epic forces of darkness and light that have come into play." He was silent for a beat, "And, for better or worse, that's the reality Morgan's gonna have to find a way to grow up in."

 "Though," Tony chuckled to himself, "I shouldn't be worried about that, should I? Not when Morguna has her very own superhero, hm, Sabrina?"

 The little jab had Emilia shaking her head, of course in the time he had taken to record a final farewell, he just had to get the last word in with her. It was so very Tony of him. Morgan even managed a little giggle, her tiny fingers smothering her lips as she peered up at Emilia.

 Pepper's chest shuddered, stray tears banished by a swift flick of her thumb.

 Emilia watched as Tony chuckled to himself like an overgrown child, swiftly finding himself planted within a chair that flickered and flashed for a short moment as the beaten helmet of his suit produced the hologram.

 He shrugged, "So I thought I'd probably better record a little greeting... In the case of an untimely death on my part. I mean, not that death at any time isn't untimely. This time travel thing that we're gonna try and pull off tomorrow, it's — it's got me scratching my head about the survivability of it all. I've told Em as much... and she's told me as much, but, then again, that's the hero gig."

 That was the thing with Tony; he'd always considered the ending. He was always looking into the future, scarcely around to make the most of the present... he had dedicated his life to making the world better for those he loved. He wanted to make it better for Peter and Morgan, the children who would shape it long after he was gone...

 So Tony's hologram didn't capture even a lick of sadness, remorse or even regret. He was resolute and ready to lose his life if that was what it took.

 Tony clicked his tongue, almost tutting at his own words, "But... Part of the journey is the end, isn't it? It's what we leave behind after we're gone. All I want —" For the first time, Tony had to take a moment, "— all I want is a better place for them."

 They all knew that the 'them' Tony was talking about, was the two children in the room. He might have meant it for them all, for everyone outside the cabin and in the cities and villages scattered around the world. He could have been talking about each and every child he'd fought for... but it was for Morgan and Peter most of all.

 They all knew it, except for the children themselves. They'd understand one day.

 Tony suddenly stood, heaving to his feet as he sauntered forth, "What am I even trippin' for? Everything's gonna work out exactly the way it's supposed to." He glanced around the room, as though he had known where each and every person would have been standing. Then, as though his eyes were always meant to find them... Tony looked at his wife, right into those eyes he'd fallen in love with.

 They stooped to Morgan and Tony Stark smiled for the very last time, "I love you three thousand."

 And in a single flash, Tony was gone once again. There were to be no more final words. No pointed stares and laughter. No more comments that made Emilia want to pull her own hair out and strangle him with it. That was it. He was gone.

 Emilia couldn't quite recall when her tears had started to fall, nor when Pepper Potts had reached to squeeze her hand. All Emilia knew, as she looked to her side at little Morgan Stark... was that she'd always be there. She would, no matter what, always be ready and willing to take ahold of the Stark's hands whenever they needed her to.

 She'd made that promise to Tony, and she would never break it.

 The funeral that had been planned was nothing less than personal. While Emilia was sure that people would have gathered at the millions to celebrate the life of Tony Stark... only those that had fought beside him, that had loved him within close quarters were standing there, around the glistening lake.

 The lakefront was still and Emilia could remember the times she'd practised her sorcery. The times in which her powers and magic had swept up the rippling waters and coiled them into swirling vortexes... she could remember dousing Tony in one when he'd made the foolish decision to sneak up on her. He'd never joined her by the water from that day onwards.

 Now, however, there was hardly even a ripple to be spied atop the surface. Lilypads were still in bloom, pink and white flowers dotting the surface while stray leaves from the blossoming trees drifted to and fro. It was like staring at a painting... Until Pepper Potts stood upon the dock with one hand tangled around her daughters... and the other holding Tony's final send-off.

 What had really started Pepper and Tony's relationship was to be the very thing that laid it into a peaceful slumber. It was one of his old arc reactors, one in which Pepper had snuck away to lace with the engraving 'proof that Tony Stark has a heart' all those years ago.

 It was laid upon a bed of flowers, ready to drift onwards as they all ducked their heads and said their goodbyes.

 Emilia, Rhodey and Bruce were all behind her. They had been the closest with Tony... and Even if Emilia had only stepped into his life just a few years prior, she had been there constantly. She's stayed within their home, she'd taken care of their child... She had been there.

 So Emilia, for the first time in a very long time, didn't feel out of place standing behind Pepper Potts. She felt as though she was right where she should have been while Rhodey and Bruce flanked her sides.

 Behind them stood Stephen, Peter Parker and May. Stephen was there with a hand atop Emilia's shoulder. He was ready to keep her afloat while Peter sniffed as quietly as he could. In any other circumstance, Peter Parker would have been beside himself to see so many heroes gathered around him. He'd seen their faces in History class. He'd plastered posters of them upon his bedroom walls... now, he just didn't care.

 The other Avengers were behind him, and the rest of the heroes they'd come to know and fight alongside were scattered about, each draped in black while mourning the loss of one of their own.

 It was silent as Pepper crouched closer to the lake, and Emilia was motionless as Tony's arc reactor soon drifted away. When it couldn't be seen, when it had finally parted from them all...

 It was almost relieving to finally see a clear lakefront. Emilia had been willing herself to remain strong, to remain standing upon her own two feet. It seemed impossible at first, but when she had stared into the mirror — pointedly ignoring the circles below her eyes, and the discoloured skin of her temple — she'd told herself that this wasn't about her.

 It was about remembering the sacrifices that had been made.

 When it was all over and Emilia could finally breathe... She and Stephen remained side by side, shoulders brushing against one another. They exchanged no words as Stephen's fingers trailed between her own, no glances as Emilia tightened her hold.

 "Hey — Um."

 Emilia glanced behind her, eyes softening as Peter Parker stood right beside his aunt, hands stuffed within his pockets. The remnants of tears still lined his cheeks, glistening as the sun flashed over his rounded features.

 He looked so young standing there.

 Emilia dropped Stephen's hold, "Hi, Peter," She nodded towards the woman standing by his side. She'd never met her, after all, May Parker had been taken from them five years ago too... But that hadn't stopped Tony from divulging every little memory he'd shared with Peter, "May."

 She didn't want to ask if he was alright, for the answer was clear enough from the downturn of his lips, "Can we help you with anything?"

 "I just —" Peter swallowed, hastily schooling his face as tears bloomed afresh, "You stayed with him, didn't you?"

 Emilia nodded.

 "I wanted to ask if you — What I mean is —" He sighed, blinking ever so furiously.

 Emilia stepped forth. She hadn't known Peter for long herself, but what she did know was that he was just a kid. He was a child who had fought for the safety of others even to his own detriment. He was a child who had lost somebody he'd looked up to from the moment he could babble even a single word.

 She clasped his hand, "Come by the Sanctum, I'll tell you all about the trouble he got me into."

 Peter flicked his eyes to Stephen, and for the first time, Peter couldn't spy that firm frown he'd always seemed to be sporting. There was just a look of... well, grief. But Stephen nodded all the same, and that was enough for Peter's lip to wobble.

 Emilia tugged on his hand, and soon enough, Peter was smothered in the warmth of a hug, "All he did was talk about you."

 "Really?"

 "Really."

 Most of those who'd gathered had left by the time the sun had started to set.

 Wong had parted ways with Emilia and Stephen, for the Kamar-Taj was awaiting his arrival and subsequent direction... Emilia and Stephen remained. If anything, Emilia didn't want to leave.

 Pepper and Morgan had been by her side almost every single day, it seemed... wrong to leave them so suddenly. To leave them the moment Stephen returned and Tony had left them. She couldn't do that in good conscience.

 The couple remained outside, perched atop the bench on the cabin's porch. Empty glasses were by their side, tea and coffee drained within moments after Pepper had set them down.

 With the sun casting an orange glow over the clouds, and the lake utterly still beneath the guise of trees and flowers, Emilia could finally feel a weight lifted from her chest. The need to keep up a facade around the others was no longer present. The desire to will her tears away soon faded... but they still didn't come.

 Emilia's face remained entirely dry as she sat there staring at the birds fluttering by, clouds curling around their wings. It was peaceful.

 Then the door to the cabin cracked open as tiny little fingers curled around the edges, "Emmy?"

 It was Morgan. She and Pepper had retreated inside for dinner, joined silently by Rhodey, Happy and Bruce... Emilia hadn't developed an appetite and thus remained by Stephen's side, alone in the setting sun.

 "Hi, sweetheart," Emilia almost cooed, leaning forth to peer around Stephen.

 Morgan, even despite addressing Emilia, held her fixated eyes upon Stephen Strange. She traced the odd line of his beard that so closely resembled her father's. She stared at the strange streaks of white within his hair.

 Morgan had begged for stories about him from the moment Tony had spoken of a wizard. Morgan had been besotted, pleading each and every night for Emilia to talk about her times fighting alongside Stephen and Wong.

 "You found him," Morgan said so effortlessly, a little toothy smile alighting her face. Her pink cheeks rose higher and higher, "Your wizard."

 She could so easily recall the days in which Emilia had left the dinner table with tears gathering in her eyes. Morgan had always turned to her father, afraid she'd done something wrong... all he'd said was that she missed her wizard, that he was lost and she simply couldn't find him.

 The day after, Morgan had slipped on a pair of Pepper's gardening gloves, plucked an old and cracked magnifying glass from the sorry old outhouse, and off she went. She had vowed to search and search until the wizard was found... and there he was.

 Emilia's throat tightened, eyes flashing to Stephen, "Your dad found him for me."

 "He did?"

 Stephen peered at the ground, watching as gravel rolled beneath his polished shoe. It's been hard enough to watch the send-off for Tony, to know that it had been his choice, Stephen's choice to have Tony Stark perish within that battle, rather than the woman he loved... now, to see his little girl staring straight at him as though he was made of magic himself...

 Stephen blinked, schooling himself as he smiled at the littlest Stark, "You must be Morgan, have you been looking after Emilia for me?"

 Morgan nodded vigorously, her eyes soon blinking away the flurry of hair she'd messed about. Her legs soon carried her across the porch, each step echoing as she hastened forth until she hopped atop Emilia. Morgan's hands were tucked to her chest, head slowly buried closer.

 "Well, thank you," Stephen responded, a certain ache in his heart upon watching Emilia sway with the little girl in her arms. Five years... Stephen hadn't thought much of it himself, he knew the others would have gone on with their lives, and he knew Emilia would have carried onwards even despite wishing she could just stop.

 But now, Stephen was ever so slowly realising just how much things had changed. Emilia had branched out to the Starks, she'd revived her friendship with Bruce Banner and become so much closer to so many people... had he been in the way of that before? 

 Then, his hand was enveloped in warmth. Emilia. She smiled, "Morgan loves magic."

 "Is that so?" He hummed as Morgan watched him with narrowed eyes and an ever-growing grin. She was silent, almost shy as she nodded. But then, when Stephen held out his palm and allowed a little wisp of gold to flood from his shaking fingertips, Morgan drew closer.

 Her hands grappled with the embers, giggling as each one tickled her skin. Then she stopped, hands frozen mid-air as she twisted to face Emilia once more. She found fondness staring back at her, "Are you leaving forever?"

 Emilia had overstayed her welcome, she knew that. But the Starks had been unwilling to let her go... out of the fear of what she might have done. Now, Emilia had some semblance of peace back within her heart, and even now, she still had a job to do. Protecting the multiverse was something she'd never give up on, even if the title of Sorcerer Supreme was to be handed to its rightful owner.

 But she'd never give Morgan up, either.

 So while Emilia had agreed with Pepper that it was time to leave. No returning to the Avengers tower, no endless nights at the cabin... she'd always find her way back but it was time to go home, to the Sanctum, "I'll visit you whenever I can."

 "Will you tell me new stories?"

 "So many."

 The promise of further tales of their adventures was more than enough for Morgan to slip from her seat. She took ahold of Emilia's hand then, tentatively, she took ahold of Stephens.

 In any other circumstance, Stephen would have torn his digits away... that was one thing he'd never soon allow; people touching the broken part of him. Emilia was the only one, the person with a touch light enough to bring his fingers warmth rather than pain.

 But Morgan had been so delicate with her touch, that Stephen had hardly felt it.

 Morgan Stark was the spitting image of her father. Warm brown eyes, a cheeky little grin... and an impatience unlike any other. She couldn't sit still either. So with their hands — well, just a few fingers — clasped within her own, she tugged them towards the porch staircase.

 "Go!" She chimed as her head filled with so many monsters and magical abilities that Emilia had already told her of, "Go and fight the monsters! I need new stories!"

 The Sanctum Sanctorum hadn't changed at all, Stephen thought as he steadily stepped through the portal Emilia had conjured with ease he hadn't seen before. Actually, as Stephen glanced around, finding his eyes were squinting through swells of dust... his thoughts were far beyond the truth. It really hadn't changed at all.

 Everything was right where they'd left it back when they'd followed after Tony Stark to fight off Thanos' children. Every trinket was in its place, not even a disturbance in the dust to let him know they had been even slightly moved. Every coat and hat they'd slung over the bannisters were right there.

 He glanced to the side, and the teacup he'd left in his haste to hurtle through a portal just days before the invasion... was still right there.

 Emilia was behind him, watching his movements like a hawk. She fiddled with her own fingers, her pointer trailing the length of a scar dusting the back of her hand. It didn't matter how many months had passed, how many years had drifted by; nothing had made it easier to see the Sanctum without Stephen settled within its walls.

 Emilia had visited if she had to. No more. No less.

 "I only came here to —" Emilia blew out a breath, scowling at the unsettled dust as it teetered within the air, dropping lower and lower... "— To fulfil my duties."

 "Duties?"

 "They named me Sorcerer Supreme." Emilia finally spilled. Her voice very clearly displayed her distaste for the title bestowed upon her, "It was always between you, Wong and myself... with the two of you gone..."

 Stephen had thought it would have suited her. Emilia Clemente had been a pupil of the Ancient Ones, she'd trained relentlessly for years. She'd abandoned everything she'd ever known to partake in a new culture and way of life and learning... she was good. She was strong.

 But then again... Stephen had never known Emilia to be a leader. She had never wanted to command and control people. She wanted to help and defend, that was all.

 "You didn't turn it down?" He asked.

 "How could I? It would have been selfish. I was the only one left who fit the role, the only one with such... power." She spat the word as though it was poison on her tongue, "I wanted to help people, and being Sorcerer Supreme meant doing that. If I'd refused... people would have suffered"

 Stephen bobbed his head, ever so gently peeling the cloak from his shoulders... it drifted off into the sanctum, its edges patting away dust on various surfaces, yet it only made the air even hazier. 

 She'd accepted just because her own dislike of such a status... would have been selfish. He almost smiled at that. At just how good she was.

 "So why didn't you —"

 "— Because it hurt too much, Stephen." It was easy enough to decipher what he was going to say. Why didn't you want to be here? Why didn't you stay in the Sanctum? The simplest answer was that Emilia just couldn't. No matter how hard she'd tried to lay beneath the covers they'd once shared, or drink out of a teacup Stephen would often fill for her... it was all just too painful, "Coming here without you... I couldn't do that. I thought you were — I thought you were dead. I thought you'd never come home. How could I stay here without you?"

 Stephen faltered; could he have done it? The answer that immediately sprang to mind was no. Hell, he'd picked the path that caused the death of the world's greatest hero... because he knew he wouldn't have been able to cope with living a single day without Emilia by his side. She did it for five years. Five whole years...

 He almost wanted to praise her for that, for surviving through something that he knew he'd never have been able to overcome... but the conversation would steer right back to Tony Stark because he was the reason she'd been able to do it. Through constant surveillance, distractions and utter annoyance, Tony had gotten her to stay. Of course, Bruce had played a part, as had Pepper and Rhodey and even Nebula.

 Emilia walked onwards, shuffling silently out of her coat as she peered at the dust-laden hook. A heavy sigh rattled the air, spurring little particles to dance within the light pouring through the windows... Emilia hung it over one arm, then, with poise Stephen hadn't seen before, Emilia moved her hands through the air.

 Each finger jostled, and soon enough a spray of sparks were brought to life. Each one jumped from her hands and coiled within the air. A hearty gust of wind swept up each little fibre along every single surface, and then a small cloud was formed right above Emilia's head.

 The Sanctum looked as good as new. Mahogany and oak wood seemed to shine once more, each metal trinket could finally glint within the light. Emilia banished the cloud through a haphazard portal, entirely uncaring as to where she'd sent it.

 "I need a bath." She said, tossing the coat aside. With precision — and a little jolt of blue — it settled upon a coat rack beside the grand and imposing doors, "Come on,"

 Stephen cocked his head, and Emilia soon tugged at his fingers, sure to be gentle, "I said, come on." 

 And in a beat, Stephen Strange was soon scrambling to follow. His footsteps clattering, his fingers warm within her hold. The night would soon end with the heat of warm water trailing over their flesh, the scent of coconut wafting around a tiled bathroom while bubbles popped over their expanse of skin.

 Lingering touchers would be shared, each delicate touch ever so soft and tentative; touches that had been parted for far too long. 

 The fight had concluded, and their lingering threat had been banished... so everything was as alright as it could be, wasn't it?

━━━━━━━

DATE: 30-03-2023

:･ﾟ★  WHEW SHE'S DONE. endgame was a trial and tribulation to get through, honestly! well... No Way Home is next, and I will be changing a few things regarding Stephen's involvement in NWH because a lot just... didn't make sense lol. 

oh! there will be a couple of oneshots to follow this chapter and end act three. mainly things to fill the time between Endgame and NWH, hope you like them :)

as stated in the previous chap, this story will be going on hiatus for a while (not a 1D hiatus, i promise!) just because the lack of engagement is really heartbreaking, and i don't want to put in the effort for a story where a majority of readers can't even leave a nice comment; I'll be focusing on my Kaz Brekker fic instead - so if you love the bastard of the barrel, I'll see you over there <3

please remember to leave feedback & comments. i require a certain number of comments before i publish the next update. please give me a follow to keep updated and receive sneak peeks! do not leave 'update' comments, you will be muted.