Chapter Text
Don't go to this bank, kid. It's dangerous.
Peter remembered the stern, yet fatherly, voice of Mr Stark. It came back in his mind at that moment, and for once, he admitted deep down that Tony was right: he shouldn't have disobeyed him, and rushed headlong into danger. The worst part of all of this was that he had been so in a hurry that he got out without his suit built by Tony. He just put an amateur mask on his head to cover his face, and he ran to save citizens from a classic robbery.
Well, nothing turned out the way it was supposed to. Peter was caught by surprise, and he got thrown of a roof. In fact, he was still new, unprepared and inexperienced, so it was not a big surprise for him to fail. However, when he landed, he felt the shock. The back of his head hit the ground so brutally that he heard a horrible CRACK, and pain suddenly overwhelmed him.
He gasped through pain and shock, and he felt tears running down his cheeks. He kept blinking, but he still couldn't see correctly. Everything was blurry. He tried to move, to force his weak limbs to react, to do something, anything in fact, but his body didn't obey him and stayed still. He tried to open his mouth to call for help, but nothing came out.
He was laying alone in a street, trapped by his own injury, helpless. This obvious fact hit him hard. His chest burst with agony, as if someone had shoved a metal beam through his ribcage. He knew what it was: It was guilt, mixed with panic. A really painful guilt, eating him up inside.
Tony, Ned, Aunt May... He was going to abandon them, just because he was too weak to resist, and too stupid not to listen to Tony when he had to.
It hurt more than the bloody wound on the back of his head. He couldn't hold back a sob.
Suddenly, he heard rapid footsteps approaching him. Someone knelt near him, and a blurry face appeared just above him. Peter blinked, but he couldn't see his face. He was just seeing... red. “Hey, kid. Listen to me, focus on my voice,” A male voice commanded. This voice was deep, clinical, and, to Peter's surprise, very calm, as if this mysterious man was used to dealing with dying people.
“Who... a-a-are you ?” Peter asked with a shaking voice, a bit panicked. He even tried to pull away from the man, a weak attempt at defense, but solid hands strongly cupped his head to keep it still. Not violently, though. Just firmly, “Don't move.”
Even if he wanted to, Peter couldn't even wiggle his toes. He would have probably answered that if he could've talked, or roll his eyes if he was not in bad shape. Suddenly, he felt that his mask was being slowly removed. The man didn't remove it entirely, but enough to reveal Peter's face, though.
“No..." Peter croaked, panic compressing his heavy chest. His secret identity needed to be preserved. Nobody could know! "Let me g-go...”
“Relax, kid. I won't hurt you,” The adult's tone was slow and measured.
Peter felt hands running over his limbs, perhaps to check if there were other evident injuries. “Where does it hurt?” The voice asked coldly, with a bit of emergency.
Peter didn't even realize that he was still sobbing. His tears clouded his vision, just as pain overwhelmed his mind, body, and spirit. His head was throbbing. “H-head...” He managed to pant out.
He heard the mysterious man curse under his breath. This answer was probably what he feared. That alarmed Peter even more. However, he slowly stopped thinking. His eyelids being suddenly too heavy, he slowly closed his eyes. He felt too tired to keep them open. Right now, he really wanted to sleep, to let the darkness take him... Sadly for him, the mysterious adult didn't agree.
“No, no, no. Stay with me, kid.”
Peter felt a gentle hand covering his sweaty forehead, and he heard the man quickly mumble in an unknown language. The kid's rational part deduced that was Latin, but he still couldn't understand what this dude was doing to him.
He suddenly felt a warm sensation on his forehead, which traveled within his head, until it touched the precise location of his injury. It wasn't unpleasant, it was even quite the opposite given that pain slowly reduced. His thoughts became clearer.
Peter couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief, and his body instinctively relaxed and stopped shaking. However, he had no clue about what this man was doing or who he was, so it made him feel even more anxious, “No... Stop...” He tried to sound threatening, but it was just a weak and pathetic protest. Almost a begging one.
“Kid, it's OK,” The man whispered, but this time, he sounded softer than before. Less... robotic, perhaps.
Peter's hissing breathing showed that he was still afraid, so the deep voice, quiet and hypnotic, continued to calm him down, “I mean you no harm. I'm curing you. You're gonna be fine. Breathe slowly.”
And Peter obeyed, despite his fear and his distrust: He forced his breathing to slow down, and he forced himself to get rid of some dark thoughts about his imminent death. To pull himself together, he closed his eyes.
However, it didn't seem to please the man above him, who hastened to order calmly, “Look up at me, kid. Just look at me.”
Peter groaned, but he did as he was told: He slowly opened his eyes, and he blinked in rapid succession to get used to the light.
He focused on the man above him, who was staring intently into his eyes. The only thing Spider-Man could see clearly this time was the man's beautiful blue-green eyes, so he focused on this blue gaze as if his life depended on it.
“What ar-re you... d-doing?” Peter whimpered weakly with a confused frown.
“I'm treating your skull,” The adult explained with a bored tone, as if he was announcing the weather, “I'm almost done. Keep talking,” He didn't even bother to develop more. He seemed watchful, focused on his hand still covering Peter's forehead.
“Sounds p-peachy...” Peter let out a faint laugh, before asking, “What are y-you?”
“A Master of the Mystic Arts.”
Peter blinked, confused. He thought he didn't hear him properly. “W-What ?”
“Keep talking,” the man answered, without really giving the information Peter wanted.
Peter would have objected that this was not an answer and that talking technically was what he was doing since the beginning, but he didn't have the energy to protest, so he decided to concentrate on the most important. “What's y-your n-name ?”
“Doctor Strange,” The man revealed dryly.
Peter could have made some smart remarks about that terrible name, but he realized that something was missing. Something essential...
His mask.
The man removed his mask...
“You...” Peter swallowed, “You saw my face!”
“You're a smart one, aren't you?” Strange hissed sarcastically. He sounded almost mean, and he seemed still focused on whatever he was doing with his cold – but reassuring – hand on Peter's forehead. He must have seen Peter's panic, because he rolled his eyes and explained dryly, obviously annoyed to justify himself, “Yes, I saw your face, and I guess this awful mask proves you are the famous Spider-Man, but don't worry: I don't know who you are. And if this can reassure you, I could know everything about you if I truly wanted to. I could know your identity, your social security number, and even your shoe size.”
Peter didn't know if he had to scream for help or laugh, “This is supposed to be... reassuring?”
“Yes,” Strange shrugged.
Peter chuckled a little. “OK, that's weird, but I'm probably dying, so why not?” The kid didn't really realize that it was easier to speak, and that he was strenghthening.
“You won't die. Not today, at least,” Strange corrected him dryly with a hard look on his face.
Peter didn't seem convinced, “W-why not?”
“Because I'm the one who cure you.”
Peter blinked, and then he grinned, “I see... A big ego.”
It didn't make Strange smile at all, but at least, his tone was less dry when he asked with sarcasm. “What gave me away?”
Peter cleared his throat, and he decided to change the topic. “So... Y-You said you c-could know everything about me... Do you... Do you read minds?”
“I do,” Strange confirmed with a bored tone, as if it was perfectly normal.
Peter winced. He tried to move his fingers, and he was glad to see that he could. He felt better. “That's not a-alarming at all...”
“Don't worry. Exploring the depths of a teenager's mind is not my favorite hobby.”
Peter chuckled weakly. That man was funny. “G-Good to know.”
Even if Strange was quite special, Peter was forced to admit he was still conscious thanks to him and he was not scared anymore. It must have been the man's purpose: distract him.
Right now, Peter's vision became clearer, so he could actually see the mysterious man who was currently saving him. The latter was wearing a red cape, and a blue robe. That's where the red vision came out. His hair was mostly dark, as dark as his elegant goatee, but there was some gray at his temples. The most noticeable features of his face were his steely blue eyes and his prominent cheekbones.
“What are you doing to me?” Peter asked, but without any mistrust or fear, this time. He was a curious teenager, after all.
There was a short silence, and Strange stared at him for a long moment, probably deciding if he could answer or not. Finally, he dryly explained. “Magic.”
Peter raised his eyebrows, “Really?”
Strange just nodded, and the kid smiled weakly. “That's cool,” Peter was too delirious to understand how crazy it was.
The man rolled his eyes, but he didn't respond. He looked really annoyed, in fact. Peter cleared his throat, and he tried to continue the conversation, as his new friend was not really talkative. “So... Where does 'Doctor Strange' come from?”
“Sorry?” The man frowned.
“Your made-up name.”
The man looked offended. “That's not my made-up name, stupid kid,” Before the kid could react, Strange removed his hand, and he announced with relief, “Done.”
Peter felt an arm crawl under his kneels, while the other one held his back. Then, he was gently lifted up by Strange, the latter making sure that the kid's head was resting against his shoulder and was not moving too much.
Without knowing why, Peter felt safe in the man's arms. He allowed himself to lose consciousness.
///
“How are you feeling, kid?”
Peter woke up to Strange's dry voice. When he opened his eyes, he realized he was laying down on a couch in an unknown place. He face was clear: his mask was just next to him.
Strange was preparing a drink, at the far end of the room. He didn't even take a quick look at the young teenager, focused on his task. But he still knew he was awake.
Peter nervously rubbed the back of his head with a shaky hand, astonished not to feel any injury under his fingers or even pain or blood soaking them. “I'm fine, I think.”
Strange didn't seem relieved at all. He rolled his eyes and he coldly insisted. “No pain, no dizziness, no nausea, no vision problem?” His sharp eyes finally stopped looking at the weird yellow liquid he was pouring into a mug, and he stared at the kid, analyzing each part of Peter's body with great care. His piercing eyes made the kid uneasy. He hated being the center of the attention.
“Nope, Doc;” Spider-Man shyly shook his head.
He expected Strange to reprimand him for this nickname, but the adult just nodded with satisfaction, staying silent.
Spider-Man bit his lower lip, and he tried to joke. “So... This is the moment where you're gonna tell me ''You are a wizard'' and take me to Hogwarts?”
His joke didn't even prompt a smile from the adult. His lips didn't even twitch. Stephen just glared at him for a second, and then he approached Peter, holding the mug in his hands. His hands... They were covered by yellow gloves. Peter frowned, and it was hard to maintain eye contact.
“Drink this,” Strange ordered sternly, waiting until the kid would reach out and take the drink.
Peter narrowed his eyes at the mug. “What it is? A potion?” He grinned from ear to ear, proud of his joke.
“Very funny,” Stephen rolled his eyes, keeping his stoned face.
“Do you ever smile? Is it against the law of magic to smile or something?” Peter replied, but without annoyance. In fact, he was just curious, and a little amused.
Stephen said nothing, and the kid understood the message. “OK, I'll shut up.”
Strange raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you're actually able to do that?”
With a little smirk, Peter showed his mug with his chin and he asked, “What's in this, Grumpy?”. He didn't wait for an answer. He took the mug, and he took a quick sip of the drink...
… But he almost spit it out, because of the awful and sharp taste invading his mouth. He swallowed the liquid with difficulties, and he started to cough.
He couldn't help but glare at Strange, who was staring at him quietly, his arms crossed nonchalantly against his chest.
When he saw the kid's glare, the adult didn't look guilty at all and he calmly defended himself. “Don't look at me like that... I never said it was good,” There was the faintest of smirk crossing his face.
Peter's eyes widened. Strange smiled. He realized that Strange did have a sense of humor. Just a... twisted sense of humor.
“What the hell is that thing?! It's gross,” Peter winced with disgust.
Strange stayed calm, and Peter wondered if anything ever could shake the man. “That ''thing'' will make you feel better. It will heal the minor rest of your injury I couldn't take care of. ”
The teenager raised an eyebrow. He didn't understand a thing, and he knew for sure that usually, a potion could not heal. “Really, this will make me feel better? I'm sure I lost my tongue, and I-”
“Do you ever stop talking?” Strange groaned, massaging his temples and clenching his jaw, but it was clear that his annoyed reaction was exaggerated.
Peter pointed an accusing finger at him. “You're the one who wanted me to talk, Grumpy!”
“Yeah, because you had a fractured skull, and I needed you to stay conscious while I was saving you,” Strange replied bluntly, and this cold, but true, statement hit Peter.
He looked down. He felt bad: his body was far stronger than others, and he knew that a normal kid wouldn't have survived the fall. He was lucky. He whispered with a grateful tone. “Thank you, by the way. For... Saving my life.”
It didn't soften Strange in the least. He coldly shrugged, as if it didn't matter. “I just did my duty.”
This dry response was supposed to cool Peter down, but contrary to all expectation, the kid was able to bravely look Strange in the face without being impressed, and he replied. “Yeah, but I don't care, I'm still alive thanks to you... So, thanks.”
If Strange was surprised, he hid it well. He stared at Peter for a long moment. His sharp gaze made Peter feel uneasy, he was struggling to keep the eye contact.
Finally, Stephen turned his eyes away. “You're welcome, Spider-Man,” For the first time, his deep voice wasn't cold. It was... almost warm.
Peter appreciated the fact that Strange didn't question him about his activities, and he didn't lecture him either, because of his young age. Actually, the doctor looked as if he didn't care about it, and it felt good. To be considered as an equal.
To be respected.
Peter glanced at his mask, “Yeah, about that... You can call me Spidey.”
Strange gave Peter a calm look, and he sighed, “I know you desire to stay anonymous. If you want me to forget about your face and about our entire conversation, all you have to do is ask, and I will.”
Peter blinked, still wondering if he could trust the man. However, there was no trace of lie on the man's face, only blunt honesty. His spidey-senses never alarmed him. Well, Peter still had problems with his spidey-senses, but he trusted them. He decided to at least take him seriously.
He asked, actually rather impressed, “You... You can do that? You can... Make yourself forget?”
Stephen raised an eyebrow, as he nodded. He didn't let the kid express his surprise. “Your decision, Spidey.”
Peter smiled gratefully, and he took his time to think about it. On the one hand, he really had to keep his identity secret. Strange was right, it was really important to him. On the other hand, his instincts were telling him he could trust the man, and in fact, he had just saved his life. He didn't deserve to forget.
Peter ended up shaking his head with a confident smile. “Nah, you can keep these memories, Doc.”
Strange looked surprised, and he muttered, almost shyly. “An unexpected choice.”
“I don't want you to forget about my brilliant personality, Grumpyn” Peter joked, with a big grin.
Yes, he was still trying to make Stephen smile, or even laugh. But instead of that, Strange just rolled his eyes.
“So kind of you,” He replied sarcastically.
Peter became serious again, and he cleared his throat. “No, seriously, I think I can trust you.”
“You think?”
Peter nodded with a sweet smile, and he explained himself, “Well, first of all, you didn't kill me, you saved me, and my spidey senses-”
“Your spidey senses...” Stephen repeated with a questioning gaze. Peter smiled: so, this man could be curious and be more than just the epitome of indifference.
“Oh, they alert me when I'm in danger, and I don't feel myself in danger when I'm with you, Doc,” The teenager was actually having fun, but it suddenly hit him: He had to go. Tony could be worried, and he didn't know for how long he stayed inconscious on Stephen's couch. He suddenly asked, “Can I go ? I mean, this is not against you, Grumpy, but I need to go back to my aun- family. They must be worried.”
Stephen nodded. “Sure. But you must drink the entire mug first.”
Peter's mouth dropped. “Hey, not cool! I was nice to you!”
And finally, Stephen smiled. It was so small that Peter almost failed to see it. He felt ridiculously proud of himself, to such a point that he had to force himself not to scream in victory.
“Drink, Spidey,” Strange ordered nicely. OK, this man could also be gentle. That was good to know.
“C'mon, just the half!”
“Don't bargain with me, kid. You'll lose.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“ I'm pretty good with those.”
Peter sighed, as he moved slowly the mug towards his lips with a disgusted expression. He started to drink it slowly, and an idea suddenly emerged in his mind. “Could I come back here, someday?” He asked shyly, and he rubbed nervously the back of his neck.
Stephen frowned. “Why would you like to come back here?”
“Are you kidding me? I have so many questions! I want to know everything about this place, and about your bizarre magic!” And I want to know you, Peter added in his mind, but of course, he didn't say it out loud. "So, could I, yes or no?"
A smug smirk slowly danced on Stephen's lips. “Only if you drink the entire mug.”
The kid smiled, and he raised his chin with a determined and defiant look, “Deal.”