[ there's a little while before another response comes through, time spent thinking. is this serving them? their conversation left it fairly undeniable that they've each got something to hide - and he's not trying to undersell the worth of engineers and biologists, but he somehow doubts they're going to find the connection by comparing degrees.
so. ]
If I told you that the last thing I remember before waking up on that bus was standing on a space ship with Tony Stark and Spiderman and trying not to crash into an alien planet, would you have anything new to tell me?
[ jesus christ, that's — tony stark is a SHIELD consultant or was, before they went underground. the new SHIELD doesn't go near spider-man, given his vague association with the avengers. that's fury's area. but if strange knows them, is strange an... avenger? is he inhuman? he'd have to be unregistered, at odds with stark's stance. and to be there, on the frontlines, that's — wow.
he wants to say, thank god or maybe aliens, amiright? but he keeps the neural tech in check, messaging bobbi instead. is it okay for him to talk? he'd love to give up on his horrible mess of lies and half-truths. and he'd prefer to speak openly with stephen, who might be able to help him with things beyond their most recent displacement. ]
I could walk and talk. Maybe think of a few new things to add.
[ they're hackable now, so he won't on here. how much he reveals ultimately depends on bobbi, as well as his calls on-the-spot. ]
[ a slight delay as he waits for the okay from bobbi, and then — ]
Free. Meet by the dining area and then head out.
[ out of the safehouse, that is. better not to do this where everyone's on top of each other. he's already there, anyway, perched on the edge of a table, steadying himself before he discusses classified information. ]
[ alright. to say this is something he's looking forward to is a far cry from the current reality, but needs must. he's never really had to explain what he had before, at least not without the aid of example. explaining now it's gone is going to be -
it's going to be what it is. at least he's not the only one with explaining to do.
maybe five minutes later, he rounds the corner to the dining area. looking about as much of a mess as the rest of them, face peppered with healing cuts and set in a neutral mask. ]
[ fitz looks decent, unharmed beyond the slim nicks here and there, largely covered by his slightly too big hand-me-downs. he was lucky — and trained for it, he supposes, twice. despite his general skittishness, his features are arranged into a near calm. he can be professional, even if he's not firing on all cylinders.
except stephen's opener startles a laugh out him. god, what a dad joke. coulson would dig it. ]
You know me. [ well. he eases his weight forward to stand fully, hands slipping into his pockets 'cause they'll give him away otherwise. ] Can't get enough of the dried insects.
[ but they're in motion, burning his nervous energy on their way out of the building. walking was a good shout. ]
[ a slight upward tick of the mouth at the breaking of the tension, but he falls into step and they're off. out into the day, warned not to be seen on their way out of the safehouse - as if that much isn't common sense. ]
I'm sorry to have been so blunt. But it seemed best to get it out of the way. We don't have a lot of time for beating around the bush.
[ still, he can acknowledge that he did somewhat pull the carpet out from under them ]
[ despite deciding this is a Hands-in-Pockets Spy Affair, he ends up lifting a hand to gesture between them. ]
No, you — it was the right call.
[ maybe, he doesn't actually know, but sure. ]
I suppose I should say I'm [ a beat of uncertainty. he glances at stephen. ] an Agent of SHIELD. Afraid I left the badge in the other universe. [ then, lightly. ] And I have drawn up the prints for a jet, so. Aerospace wasn't totally off-base.
[ a joking (*not joking) defense of his lie spaghetti, thanks. ]
Chatty bastard. [ more irritated than upset. ] I'll have you know it's protocol to negotiate openly with aliens, and SHIELD has a strong relationship with Asgard. [ a beat. ] With most Asgardians.
Mystic Arts. [ he repeats, a little skepticism creeping into his tone despite himself. mystic probably isn't the right word for whatever Steven does, scientifically speaking, but sure, why the hell not? ]
You had powers before you came here, then?
[ they all have powers now, of course, that Fitz suspects were mined from other individuals. ]
Yeah, me too. [ re: mystic arts. he's been you, fitz. he won't begrudge the skecticism. ] And yes. I could access interdimensional energy and form it into spells. I could also manipulate dimensions, travel between them freely, and control time.
[ so that's a thing. another thing, one that he hasn't quite understood yet - ] Before?
[ spells, he says. dr strange is a wizard. isn't that just cracking. the phrase "interdimensional energy" soothes him, at least, and provides fodder for further questions. later. ]
Could've used your help a few times.
[ it's meant to be quippy, but he fails to muster the positive energy. ]
I'm sure you've noticed. [ it's a compliment. strange is a clever man, though perhaps he lacks the intimate relationships to explore this topic freely, at present. with bobbi and daisy here, fitz can discuss almost anything. ] I know for a fact that I'm not inhuman or powered. Or I wasn't. I checked. Now — [ he lifts his hands and shrugs his shoulders. ] — I've some kind of spacetime manipulation ability, I reckon.
Fitz belatedly stops and backtracks, facing Stephen. He has the decency to look sheepish for slipping in that detail, at least, bring a hand to scratch at his neck. ]
Like, portals — just small ones, though. [ to illustrate, he makes an O with his hand. ] Seems to function like miniature wormholes, with an entry and exit portal, but it's difficult to test.
Oh, you've gotta be— [ mumbled to himself, but his mind's spinning fast and he's onto the next thought - ] How does it work? You picture the exit location, the exit location's random, what? And you can do this independently? Without any tools?
[ a quick glance over his shoulder assures him that no one's lingering close enough to overhear them. ]
It just happened when I was chucking something, the first time. [ the words come quickly, almost tangled, as he pieces together Strange's sudden shift. ] I picture it, yeah, no tools.
[ his stomach drops. could it have been one of Strange's powers? a variant of dimension manipulation? did I take it? he doesn't remember doing so, but he has to consider the theory that he's suffering from a mental break after the Framework, that he took powers from people in there so it's possible he did it again — or his research ended up in the wrong hands, advancing their experiments.
[ involuntarily, he tosses his head sharply to the side. it's good and bad, right and wrong - he can't cast portals without a sling ring. if the powers are related, and Fitz can do this without external aid...
he had the time stone on him when he was taken.
deep breaths, Stephen. deep breaths, deep breaths. ]
[ a quick nod and he's back in motion. being neither the spy amongst them nor the man best equipped to keep hold of his shit right now, his route is fast and direct. that we is going to have to be an I on the surveillance-checking, sorry bud. ]
[ bloody fantastic. Fitz lets Strange take the lead, hanging back to avoid drawing attention to the pair of them. the distance allows him time to suppress his anxieties, too. in this moment, he can't afford to break, not with a sort-of-Avenger waiting expectantly and a hypothesis left dangling between them.
it takes him half a minute to case the area before following suit. when he rejoins Strange, his features are arranged in near-neutrality, betrayed only by the worried furrow of his brow. ]
Okay, so. [ he fishes in his pockets for something, retrieving a rock. ] I've only been testing it out for a few days.
[ a little toss and catch, by way of explanation. Fitz has always fiddled with things like this, tossing pic 'n mix in his mouth and balled-up paper in bins. this isn't any different, except for the power stealing situation. another furtive look around the area confirms they weren't followed. if anyone walks past, they'll only see his back.
he throws the wee rock up with his good hand (the left), and a small portal appears beneath, catching it on the way down and closing shortly thereafter. another portal opens above his right hand, higher than he'd like, so he reaches up to snatch the rock out of the air. ta-dah. ]
[ Stephen isn't patient in his waiting. he ought to be, ought to at least be grateful that one of them is capable of acting with some caution here. but he wants this done, wants to know, and it's very clear on his face by the time Fitz arrives. he's patient enough only to refrain from snapping something short in response to I've only been testing it out for a few days.
luckily for the both of them, Fitz doesn't keep him waiting long after that.
... okay. ok.
there's some slim settling of held tension in his shoulders. a released breath, small but telling. ]
... Thanks.
[ it's similar, but different enough that it could either be coincidence or not. and that's worth holding on to. ]
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so. ]
If I told you that the last thing I remember before waking up on that bus was standing on a space ship with Tony Stark and Spiderman and trying not to crash into an alien planet, would you have anything new to tell me?
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he wants to say, thank god or maybe aliens, amiright? but he keeps the neural tech in check, messaging bobbi instead. is it okay for him to talk? he'd love to give up on his horrible mess of lies and half-truths. and he'd prefer to speak openly with stephen, who might be able to help him with things beyond their most recent displacement. ]
I could walk and talk. Maybe think of a few new things to add.
[ they're hackable now, so he won't on here. how much he reveals ultimately depends on bobbi, as well as his calls on-the-spot. ]
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I could do with a walk. Free?
[ best get this show on the road, hadn't we? ]
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Free. Meet by the dining area and then head out.
[ out of the safehouse, that is. better not to do this where everyone's on top of each other. he's already there, anyway, perched on the edge of a table, steadying himself before he discusses classified information. ]
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it's going to be what it is. at least he's not the only one with explaining to do.
maybe five minutes later, he rounds the corner to the dining area. looking about as much of a mess as the rest of them, face peppered with healing cuts and set in a neutral mask. ]
Fancy seeing you here.
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except stephen's opener startles a laugh out him. god, what a dad joke. coulson would dig it. ]
You know me. [ well. he eases his weight forward to stand fully, hands slipping into his pockets 'cause they'll give him away otherwise. ] Can't get enough of the dried insects.
[ but they're in motion, burning his nervous energy on their way out of the building. walking was a good shout. ]
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I'm sorry to have been so blunt. But it seemed best to get it out of the way. We don't have a lot of time for beating around the bush.
[ still, he can acknowledge that he did somewhat pull the carpet out from under them ]
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No, you — it was the right call.
[ maybe, he doesn't actually know, but sure. ]
I suppose I should say I'm [ a beat of uncertainty. he glances at stephen. ] an Agent of SHIELD. Afraid I left the badge in the other universe. [ then, lightly. ] And I have drawn up the prints for a jet, so. Aerospace wasn't totally off-base.
[ a joking (*not joking) defense of his lie spaghetti, thanks. ]
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Out of curiosity, is that supposed to be top secret information? I'm guessing you got whatever clearance you needed for me, but -
[ but. as the disclosure of surprising information goes, Stephen doesn't actually seem all that surprised.
so what about for the other time you happened to let that slip, and to perhaps the most unreliable of sources? ]
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Chatty bastard. [ more irritated than upset. ] I'll have you know it's protocol to negotiate openly with aliens, and SHIELD has a strong relationship with Asgard. [ a beat. ] With most Asgardians.
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Anyway, SHIELD. Is that just you, or all of your university friends and/or ex-lovers?
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Bloody hell, you're merciless. [ with the questions and the judgment. ] Agent Johnson's with SHIELD. Katelin isn't.
[ and that, at least, he sells, perhaps because it's true. ]
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[ okay, accepted without question. what's the point in lying at this point? ]
Stephen Strange. Ex-neurosurgeon, more recently but still ex-Master of the Mystic Arts and protector of Earth against extra-dimensional threat.
[ nice to properly make your acquaintance. ]
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You had powers before you came here, then?
[ they all have powers now, of course, that Fitz suspects were mined from other individuals. ]
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Yeah, me too. [ re: mystic arts. he's been you, fitz. he won't begrudge the skecticism. ] And yes. I could access interdimensional energy and form it into spells. I could also manipulate dimensions, travel between them freely, and control time.
[ so that's a thing. another thing, one that he hasn't quite understood yet - ] Before?
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Could've used your help a few times.
[ it's meant to be quippy, but he fails to muster the positive energy. ]
I'm sure you've noticed. [ it's a compliment. strange is a clever man, though perhaps he lacks the intimate relationships to explore this topic freely, at present. with bobbi and daisy here, fitz can discuss almost anything. ] I know for a fact that I'm not inhuman or powered. Or I wasn't. I checked. Now — [ he lifts his hands and shrugs his shoulders. ] — I've some kind of spacetime manipulation ability, I reckon.
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Stephen stops in his tracks, prominent frown in his face.
1) a new power, previously unheld?
2) — ]
Spacetime manipulation? Spacetime manipulation how?
[ you can't just I reckon and stop, Fitz. this is - god. ]
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Fitz belatedly stops and backtracks, facing Stephen. He has the decency to look sheepish for slipping in that detail, at least, bring a hand to scratch at his neck. ]
Like, portals — just small ones, though. [ to illustrate, he makes an O with his hand. ] Seems to function like miniature wormholes, with an entry and exit portal, but it's difficult to test.
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[ shit. shit shit shit. ]
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It just happened when I was chucking something, the first time. [ the words come quickly, almost tangled, as he pieces together Strange's sudden shift. ] I picture it, yeah, no tools.
[ his stomach drops. could it have been one of Strange's powers? a variant of dimension manipulation? did I take it? he doesn't remember doing so, but he has to consider the theory that he's suffering from a mental break after the Framework, that he took powers from people in there so it's possible he did it again — or his research ended up in the wrong hands, advancing their experiments.
shit. ]
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he had the time stone on him when he was taken.
deep breaths, Stephen. deep breaths, deep breaths. ]
I need you to show me.
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I can try.
[ he turns around, registering the smattering of people going about their business. ]
Alleyway, maybe? [ there, an opening between two buildings up ahead. ] We'll check for any surveillance on the way.
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it takes him half a minute to case the area before following suit. when he rejoins Strange, his features are arranged in near-neutrality, betrayed only by the worried furrow of his brow. ]
Okay, so. [ he fishes in his pockets for something, retrieving a rock. ] I've only been testing it out for a few days.
[ a little toss and catch, by way of explanation. Fitz has always fiddled with things like this, tossing pic 'n mix in his mouth and balled-up paper in bins. this isn't any different, except for the power stealing situation. another furtive look around the area confirms they weren't followed. if anyone walks past, they'll only see his back.
he throws the wee rock up with his good hand (the left), and a small portal appears beneath, catching it on the way down and closing shortly thereafter. another portal opens above his right hand, higher than he'd like, so he reaches up to snatch the rock out of the air. ta-dah. ]
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luckily for the both of them, Fitz doesn't keep him waiting long after that.
... okay. ok.
there's some slim settling of held tension in his shoulders. a released breath, small but telling. ]
... Thanks.
[ it's similar, but different enough that it could either be coincidence or not. and that's worth holding on to. ]
And that's all?
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