An Imaginary Throne // Doctor Strange // Far From Home

Chapter Ten // adria, adria, adria

CASEY PEELS herself off the stone wall, tentatively stepping out from the shadows. Her feet carry her almost soundlessly across the dirt as she hurries toward a large, decorative window. From what she can see the security system inside the manor consists of only a few spaced out cameras. As so, the relatively vacant environment quickly lulls her into a sense of safety.

Up until a rag soaked with Chloroform slams over her mouth. Her struggles are futile as an invisible attacker crushes her wrists behind her back, sending jolts of pain up her arms. The other, pressing the fabric to her lips, knocks her head back in such a manner that the panic overrides her self control and her legs crumple beneath her. Before she can manage a single hit, the solvent has knocked her unconscious.

When Casey awakens she is lying on a sterile linoleum floor. Her legs are lined with stinging gashes and her biceps throb dully but her attention is locked upon the man in front of her as if nothing else matters.

"Quentin." She murmurs, voice subtly cracking.

Tears form in the corners of her eyes, glistening all too noticeably under the bright LED's. She stares down at the metal restraining her, noting that she has been stripped of her sling ring and belt. Silver cuffs tie her wrists together so even if she lunges forward, taking him by surprise, it'll cost him little effort to hold her down.

"Who are you?" Quentin asks. There is hardly a metre distance between them but he is perched upon a high-backed wooden chair while her chains weigh her down. His hands are directly in her line of vision and she notices him twiddle with a gold, unmarked wedding band as he speaks. Casey didn't enter this universe with a concrete plan but as she watches him now, all semblance of motive leaves her.

"You can't be her." He says, dropping into a crouch, "So who the hell are you?"

Casey tenses when his fingers grace her jaw, and she involuntarily turns her head up to face him.

Her.

"Adria Kaecilius, you would have known me as Casey."

"Adria is dead. She died two years ago and whatever creature hides behind this mask," He drags her to her feet, leering, and she winces when the chains scrape her skin, "Is not my wife."

Casey takes in a shuddering breath, his words echoing within her mind but never really registering. Unable to dwell on them, she chooses to change the subject. Quentin is evidently still alive so either he hasn't completed his plans or in this reality he managed to survive the events on London Bridge.

"Have you...followed through on your vendetta against Stark yet?"

"Answer my damn question! Who are you?" He asks, jabbing her shoulder with his thumb. She stumbles back, bristling.

"I told you," She hisses, barely catching her balance, "My name is Adria Kaecilius. I come from another dimension. Where I'm from, you're dead. Your plan to kill Peter Parker failed, Mysterio failed, BARF fucking failed. That's why I have to know. Are you going through with it? Am I gonna have to lose you again?"

Quentin's hand falls to his side. She never intended to speak so strongly but now, she wishes she could take it back. Then he begins to laugh.

"Alright," He says, shouting up to an empty balcony, "I'll admit, you had me for a second. Cut the simulation."

Only silence responds and slowly, his expression grows more and more grave, "I said cut it. Stop it! Now!"

"This, this is real, Quentin. I'm real." Adria says softly, "What I told you is the truth."

It takes another twenty minutes of debate for him to finally accept it and even then, he refuses to remove her shackles. Though that makes sense. She had told him her real intentions behind being here. After all, there was no point lying when things would run much smoother if he just trusted her.