Chapter Text
'-phen?'
He rolls over onto his back
'Stephen?'
His brows furrowed
'DAD!'
Stephen opens his eyes with a gasp. Confused as to what woke him up and where he is, he looks around and realizes that he's standing in the hallway of the New York Sanctum. The hall is awash in shadows even with the lights on the walls. Listening carefully, he notices that the building is unusually quiet. There was usually a hum of magic in the air and soft groaning coming from the whole building since it was always moving in some way, but now all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing.
Stephen turns his head to look behind him. It's just as dark as the rest of the hall but he starts to get nervous when he notes how it looks...fuzzy. Every detail of the area seemed dulled.
Unfocused.
He raises his hands, magic sparking at the end of shaky fingers when suddenly he's overcome with a wave of calmness. His arms fall back down to his sides and he faces back forward. A small part of his mind nags at the unnatural feeling but it's soon drowned out by soft whispers. As the nagging sense of 'wrongness' is pushed down, he feels something gently nudge him forward. The sorcerer numbly walks down to the top of the hallway, makes a right and makes his way down the stairs. He shivers slightly at the cold that comes from the hardwood floors on his bare feet.
The whispers push him to the front entrance.
He stops in front of it and raises his hands to open it when blue fabric catches his attention out the corner of his eye. He looks and sees a light blue denim jacket with stars going down the arm.
America
He realizes what woke him up.
With suddenly more awareness than he had before, Stephen turns back around, intent on checking on his ward.
As he walked, it seemed as if the room was extending with every step. The stairs seem to suddenly stretch on forever. That sense of ‘wrongness’ from before was starting to push back. He frowns and starts to call on his magic. The whispers get louder while another wave of calm crashes over him, causing him to slightly falter but the master shakes the voices away and continues on with his plan.
Magic begins to swirl around his hands when he hears,
'Stephen?'
He stops
'Stephen!'
He blinks and tilts his head.
'America?'. His name is called again from the direction of the front doors. He slowly spins around and goes back towards the doors. Hesitantly, he opens them but has to shield his eyes from abrupt brightness.
After a few blinks, he manages to open them.
"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore", he says to himself. He finds himself standing in front of the entrance to the Sanctum and a seemingly empty white room.
Behind him, the doors close.
Stephen goes and quickly reopens them only to see nothing but the same white room on the other side. He raises an eyebrow then sticks his hand through the doors and shakes it. When nothing happens, he walks through the frame.
The man glances around for a bit then goes beside the frame of the door, still looking at it curiously.
"Huh, definitely not in Kansas anymore", he says, still scanning the area.
Turning back to what he thinks is the front, he views up ahead. He sees a cluster of trees further up, a stark contrast against the white background.
A gentle nudge brush against his back urging him to start walking.
"Here I come, kid". Stephen takes a breath then begins to walk. A heavy but still force sits in the air. He doesn't hear a sound, neither from the place around him nor from himself. A shudder passes through him but he doesn't stop.
With how big the place looked, he was surprised at how quickly he made it to the tree line.
Studying a tree, he reaches out and places his hand on the trunk not really expecting to feel anything but blinks in surprise at how real it feels as he gently runs a finger over the bark. If he concentrates hard enough, he could even make out the smell of wet dirt and grass. He looks up at the branches and swears that the leaves are even moving, like there was a breeze.
Another nudge touches him. Deciding to worry about it later, he continues on.
"America?", the sorcerer calls out, his voice echoing in the area.
He waits a few beats then calls out again.
"America!"
He treks on while yelling out every few feet. Around him, more trees pop up around his path along with a pink mist that has begun to cover the ground. He moves more carefully so that he doesn't kick it up, not knowing if it was harmless or not.
Not noticing how it seemed to follow behind him.
Eventually he makes it out of the now forest. He stops and leans against a tree, his breathing labored like he's been walking up a hill instead of flat, unchanging ground. His body feels sluggish while his head feels like it's stuffed with cotton.
Stephen shifts until his back presses against the trunk of the tree, leaning his head back and closes his eyes trying to get some energy back.
"Dad!"
Eyes fly open as his head snaps to where the voice comes from.
Across from him is an identical forest. A wide stretch of white area sits between them.
Resting against a tree stands,
"AMERICA!"
They both push off the tree and take off running.
Stephen struggles to keep mobile. His body feels as if it's running in water. On the other side, the teen isn’t faring any better. Her own body protests against moving. Limbs feeling as if they weigh a ton but she fights to cross that field to get to him.
Around them, the mist becomes more dense as it starts to roll in faster. Their vision starts to blur as the smoke gets higher around them. Soon they’re both staggering and not long after, they both collapse.
Stephen leans up on his arms, trying to keep moving but the spinning sensation in his head makes him drop back down. With half opened eyes, he sees America roll on her side. Her arm stretched out in his direction.
He softly says her name as he quickly succumbs to darkness.