In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

Who Is Stephen Strange?

Spoiler Alert for Doctor Strange

With every passing day since I became one with the Stone, the term, 'the walking dead' seemed to describe me. I shuffled along streets, hunched over from the constant pounding in my chest. One, two, punch, then a rattle sent shivers through my body. It never allowed me to sleep. No more than two seconds passed before the stone decided to send a crack through my chest, remind me that I was being controlled by it. I was only alive because of that stone's hold on my soul.

I lost everything because of the Stone . I left my love, my friends. It didn't take long for me to forget who I was. Weeks, perhaps, and I was gone. Clara Blake was no longer a person. It was a name, one that used to belong to me, but hadn't, ever since the stone made contact with my soul. I served one purpose: to find the Stone. Only that, as the voice within it said, would patch my body and mind together again.

I walked and I walked, searching for something that would point me in the correct direction. I moved blindly through the city streets of who knows what countries. I had no use over my portals. They opened without my consent, sometimes, without my thought. I stepped into every one of them. I had no reason not to.

With each new city, I felt the same as always: nothing. No inkling existed that led me to believe the stone was ever near. Then, one day, that statement was no longer true.

In the dark of the night, within my head, I repeated, "Left, right, left, right," continuously to remind myself how to walk. I watched my shoes get soaked with every puddle I was physically unable to step over. I was furiously blinking to rid my eyes of the rain dripping down my face. If I didn't have to move anything except my feet, I didn't. The pain was too great.

It came out of nowhere. I felt it. What 'it' was, I had no clue. All I know was that, suddenly, I knew where I became whole again. I counted a one, a two, then I braced myself. Nothing occurred.

I, a soul trapped inside a voiceless body, came flooding back into my head. I gained control over my body. I was able to use my voice again.

"C-Clara Blake," I croaked; I hadn't been able to speak in months. "Clara Blake. I'm from France. I have abilities. I'm alive. I'm me..."

"And if you want to stay this way, my love, you'll find me and you'll take me," It told me.

"Where?" I begged, desperate to feel like myself once more. "Tell me where, please, and I'll find you. I promise."

In front of my eyes, a portal popped open. I threw my body into it. Wooden floor met my slippery feet. I lost my balance and hit the floor roughly, alerting the occupant within the library to my presence.

"Who are you?" he gasped.

"Who are you?" I asked in return.

Under quick inspection, I noticed I was nowhere familiar. The library was not typical, other than the obvious shelves. Books were not many, in that library, and each was chained to the shelf. Decor within the room was not typical. It seemed ancient, as if from a culture unknown to the world. In that library, a little piece slightly untouched by the cruel world existed.

The man, normal as he looked, was not. One look at his unusually styled beard and his robes told me so. Another detail, significant, was the necklace sitting on his chest. The golden oval held a circle in the center, protected by two parallel lines, one of which was slanted across the other. The Seal of Ashanti covered the Eye of Agamotto.

Around his outstretched arm sat two green rings, flickering with short bursts of power. Surrounding his hand was another floating green circle, only it was complete with two squares spinning in opposite directions in the center. My stone generated those circles around the strange man's hand, I knew it. It was something in the way the wisps whispered, a sound only reaching my ears, that told me.

By its own accord, the necklace on his chest started to shake. It, in the blink of an eye, roughly tugged the man forward. It wanted me, not him. The man's waist bumped into the desk.

Grunting, he shook his arm, extinguishing the magical elements. The necklace on his chest closed, no longer eager to beam its green light. It fell, limp, to his chest once more.

"How did you do that?" he asked, irritated. "Are you a telepath?"

"The Eye of Agamotto," I uttered.

He looked at the necklace, then raised his hard eyes to my own. His brow furrowed, his head tilted. Every motion in his body screamed: how do you know about this?

"I don't know how I know what it's called, or that the Seal of Ashanti is covering it, or how I managed to find this place, but I do know that it belongs to me," I breathed.

"You're not Agamotto," he said skeptically.

"No, I am not," I agreed. To myself, I mumbled, "Perhaps he's the voice in my head: Agamotto."

The man squinted at me. "Aren't you--"

"How long as this Agamotto existed?" I inquired.

"Centuries, I assume," said the man thoughtfully. "Wait, ma'am, you're Clara Blake, aren't you? You work for S.H.I.E.L.D?"

I furrowed my brow, averting my eyes from the Eye. "Before the fall, yeah."

"What fall?"

"What do you mean, 'what...'" I scoffed. I paused.

The man stared at me, mixtures of confusion and defensive evident on his face. He was serious.

"Oh, dear," I breathed, running my fingers through my wet hair. "I'm not even in 2016, am I?"

"No," agreed the man.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes tiredly. "Agamotto took me to the first time he was used by you. Why you? What's important about you?"

He hadn't answered, but I did notice his gaze linger on his trembling hands for a longer time than normal.

I raised my brow. "What did you say your name was?"

"Strange."

"So I've been told. What's your name?" I asked again.

"Dr. Strange, that's it. Stephen Strange," he introduced.

I stared at him. "Stephen Strange... You're a threat to HYDRA. Congratulations."

"Thank you?" he muttered. "You're in control of portals, aren't you?"

"I wasn't introduced to the public until S.H.I.E.L.D. crashed, though. How have you seen what I can do?" I wondered.

"The Ancient One showed me when I was in training, when I was skeptical of what happens here. You're able to create portals without a Sling Ring. It's remarkable, really. I'm unable to do so. We all are, here," explained Steven.

"And where is, 'here'?" I asked flatly.

"Nepal. Kamar-Taj. It's a center for mystical training."

I sighed, unaffected. "I've heard stranger things..."

"Why are you here, Ms. Blake?" he asked softly.

"I... I need your help, Stephen."