(Please skip to the last paragraph if you are in a hurry or just want to in general). You have heard it said countless times, but I am once again very sorry that I have kept you all waiting for so long. And I feel even worse that I broke my promise to you on updating that week or the next. Once again, math midterms and finals took up the majority of my time, along with a virtual stock market that I had to code as a final project for my Java class. Yes, you heard me right. I coded a virtual stock market over the course of 15 weeks. *wipes nonexistent sweat off brow*

Anyway, I wanted you all to have a new update this Christmas, so I have spent the entire night of the Eve to get this chapter polished and ready enough for you. I hope it lives up to your expectations, especially you, my wonderful guest reader who gave me the plot idea. Merry Christmas to you all!

Chapter 14: In Need

~SS~

In the stillness of the night, the only sound present was the gentle inhalations and exhalations of breath.

But then something changed. Another sound, brisk and shrill broke the peace and calm like shattering glass in a cemetery. Stephen Strange had whimpered.

The ancient artifact felt, more than heard the sound. Almost like an alarm had been set off within its being. The artifact hovered nearer to the human sleeping on the bed below and did its best to search out the cause of such discomfort. When it was satisfied his body was unharmed, the cloak began to scour his mind.

At first, it saw nothing, but then slowly, easing its consciousness in deeper, it began to see something that made its very being shudder with dread and guilt. Strange was strapped to a very familiar table, while an alien; the same alien that was forever etched into its cosmic memory, hovered over him. In the alien's hand lied a knife that was already slightly buried in the skin of his scalp and cutting deeper. A scream echoed within its consciousness as it fled its masters.

With little care about being gentle, only to wake, the cloak smacked its master across the face hard. But not hard enough to propel him off the bed.

Stephen awoke gasping, his body drenched in sweat. With shaking hands he examined his head and then sighed heavily, relieved it had all been a bad dream. Strange's brow furrowed slightly and he touched his cheek, wincing at the slight sting of pain it caused.

Strange turned toward the cloak in disbelief. "Did you slap my face?"

Stephen could have sworn the cloak looked like a guilty puppy just then, but it was too dark to really see anything. Besides, Stephen realized that the slight stinging of his right cheek wasn't the only pain he was feeling. Stephen could make out his hands in the small patch of moonlight that shone down from the window above him and he noticed that the muscles and tenons were much more stressed than they normally were, making his bones much more prominent. Experimentally, Stephen clenched them. It turned out to be a bad idea though.

It felt as though fire was consuming his flesh, and Strange screamed in pure pain, his head falling back against the pillow. Fortunately, he had conjured a mirror dimension before going to sleep that night or he most likely would have woken up the whole Sanctum.

The mirror dimension was put into use when Strange's night terrors and nightmares became too frequent. When it was active, the dimension would stop any noise or action from breaching its barrier to the outside world. but the dimension itself could be easily broken with a single thought should an enemy infiltrate his room.

"No, don't," Stephen told the cloak as it was about to touch his hand. He honestly didn't know if the slightest touch would be painful, but Stephen did not want to find out. The cloak pulled away, but looked akin to a human who was utterly confused about something, shifting its attention between each hand like it was malfunctioning.

Strange saw this, but he didn't understand why it was happening. To his credit though, it took him only two minutes to figure out. Not bad for being half asleep, he thought.

"You don't know why my hands hurt, do you?" he asked.

The cloak stayed stock still in what Stephen knew was a no.

"Do you want me to tell you?"

The cloak bent at the collar in a nod.

Strange cleared his throat, but the disuse sound was still present. "It happened before I knew you or Wong or the Sanctum, or even that magic existed."

"You see, before I came here I was a doctor. A medical doctor that healed people by cutting them open. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but that is how a surgeon operates.

I was at the top of my field, the best in my craft. But I became more concerned about fame and my reputation more than I did about helping people. You could say that my ego grew to the size of my huge reputation and I lost sight of everything that was truly important in my life, including obeying the speed limit. I raced to every destination in one of the most expensive cars in the world, because at that point in my life I felt like normal rules didn't apply to me. That I was above them all; especially the dregs of society I whizzed by. The thought of scratching my car or hitting other cars wasn't a possibility in my mind because I truly believed it wasn't possible for me to ever make a mistake.

But it was. All it took was a second of ill-attention and my car flipped off the cliff with me inside it. My hands were torn apart in the crash, and I was soon told that I would never be able to operate again. I spent all I had on operations that did nothing to fix me, so I did the only thing I could do and spent my last penny on a ticket to Nepal. That's when I met the ancient one and well…this whole crazy journey began."

Stephen chuckled and then coughed as it irritated his throat. Very gently, Stephen lowered his hand that he had instinctively picked up in order to cover his mouth. "And that is my story. Well, the beginning anyway." He smiled wistfully despite the pain, and turned to the cloak. "If only Wong was as good a listener as you. He still thinks he can buy things at the market for rupees."

The cloak hovered in place, giving no indication that it understood what Strange was talking about.

"Never mind, It was just an example." Stephen sat up and crossed his legs in a meditative style before shutting his eyes.

Concentrating on the energy flowing within his body, Strange followed the streams until he made it to his arm and then wrist. What possibility there was of the energy being blocked from entering his hands, was disproved when he felt the strong current flowing through every vein, seeping into every bone, muscle, and tendon. But if the energy was present there, then why did he feel the pain of his injury again? Was it too strong for even his magic to take away?

Stephen shook his head and sighed. He supposed he would have to go back the herbal tea regime for a while. But it could wait till tomorrow. After all, if it was excruciating just closing his hands, it must be nearly impossible to hold or lift anything with them.

With tea off the table for the night, Stephen settled back down on his pillow and held his hands in front of him in the moonlight. Stephen took in a breath, dreading what he was about to do. But he had to find where his energy was being blocked or his hands would continue to hurt. Very slowly, he ran a finger over the muscles and bone, applying moderate pressure in order to feel the current of energy flowing under his fingertips. The severity of the pain brought tears to his eyes, but he bit his lip to keep from crying out as he continued the process on both hands until he was panting.

Stephen flinched when he felt velvety fabric brush against his hand. He looked to the side to find the cloak...tending to him.

With his hands resting on his stomach, the cloak had access to both and was brushing itself across them in what appeared to be an effort to sooth his pain. Oddly enough, the actions of the cloak elicited no pain, as he had feared, but felt almost healing, as if his magic was surging through him and taking all the pain. The only thing Strange could surmise was that the Cloak was either probably in touch with his magic at that moment and was directing it where it needed to go, or that the Cloak was using its own magic. Given his studies on his artifact, Strange knew that both were possible.

"I'm sorry I told you not to touch me, if I had known it would feel like this I would have let you," Stephen murmured.

The cloak didn't seem acknowledge his words, seeming to be in too deep of concentration to hear him. But there was something more Strange needed to say before he accepted the pull of sleep that was tugging at his lids.

"Listen, I know you feel responsible for what happened to me on that planet."

The cloak tipped down its collar, as if in shame.

"But you need to know that it isn't your fault. I would have died from those stupid alien flies if you hadn't intervened and took us to that planet nearby. And toward the end, we were both unable to break our bonds." Strange shook his head, frustrated that the right words wouldn't come to his mind.

"What I am saying is that I don't blame you for any of it and I know that if you were able you would have flown us out of there faster than a blink. You are an excellent protector that has saved my life too many times to count, and it is because of you that I am alive right now."

Stephen expected the cloak to flutter happily and do summersaults through the air. But the artifact did something else entirely.

A small glow started to emanate from the cloak, brightening to the point where it lit up the dark room. Stephen could see the light dancing off the red material, making the churning energy on its surface appear like the strong currents of an ocean.

And then Strange felt it.

The relief of the feeling could have been compared to submerging icy cold hands into warm water, for it was both painful and good at the same time as the cloak's healing energy seeped into his hands, making them feel like new again.

"Well, I guess I wasn't the only one who has been magically stunted," Strange said with a gasp. "Feel better?"

The cloak inclined its collar, giving a little flutter.

"That's good. I feel better too," Strange said with a smile, before it broke away into a yawn. He stared out the dark window for a moment before returning his gaze to the cloak.

"I think it is time I get back to sleep. We have another day of defending the world tomorrow."

The cloak did a twirl, making Stephen chuckle as he laid back against his pillow. But before he drifted off, he felt the cloak brushing itself softly across his hands again.

Stephen secretly smiled and breathed in deeply, focusing on the relaxing motions, letting them lull him back to sleep.

I wish I had my own mirror dimension. I've been told I can be a vocal sleeper when it comes to nightmares XD But honestly, I'm sure many of you think that having a place where sound never reaches the outside world would be kinda neat. Right?