The Darkhold 📖 | 19/02/23
She didn't know what to say at first, when Stephen had this change in his temper she almost stepped away from him. Her heart took on that familiar ache she knew all too well, and her eyes showed him very clearly that she wasn't thrilled with what he was saying. And when he added that her strength combined with his would make them unstoppable, she grabbed his arms and slowly slipped out of his grip.
"What are you talking about? First you tell me that you use the Darkhold and that you are addicted to it and you can't stop using it. It's dark magic. Have you forgotten what it did to Wanda? Stephen, can you hear yourself speaking? That's not you. That means I was right. That something dark is around you and in control.” She said and her voice was a little shaky, she wasn't mad at him, what was creeping through her veins was that she was worried about him.
"It doesn't bode well and I'm just worried about you. You need to stop using it." she said and grabbed his hands. "It's doing something to you and it's not good." What she understood was that if he didn't stop using it, her Stephen wouldn't be the same, maybe it already was and it hurt her.
“Well. You’ve got your wish.”
Stephen took a step back from the red headed woman with a disappointed expression upon his face.
“We had to destroy it. The Darkhold. In every universe as far as I’m concerned. So no, I won’t be using it anymore.”
His low voice trailed off as his blue gaze flickered upward to lock eyes with her.
“But that shouldn’t be a problem because…”
Using the fingertip of his middle finger, he tapped at his temple whilst speaking.
“…it’s all in here. Everything I need. In here and…”
He then moved his hand to tap at the center of his chest.
“…in here. Yes it is Dark Magic. But sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, don’t they? There’s no need to be worried or afraid. I told you. I’m completely me. My eyes have simply been opened to a whole new branch of power waiting to be further explored.”
Stephen looked down at his own hands.
“The Darkhold may be gone… but never forgotten.”
She couldn't claim to be more at ease now, because she wasn't. Her eyes darkened and she listened to him.
"You don't get it. You mustn't even use it, it will make you something you don't want. The temptation that comes from it. I know you only want good, but the book is the darkness and should never be used." She said in a certain voice and now came a little closer, she knew that it would be difficult to find reason in him now, because for him it was the best thing that could have happened to him.
"Are you ready to sacrifice us again for something greater? Didn't you see where your other variants got to using the book? I remember you saw things where you were sure you didn't want to happen." The whole thing was tugging at her and the newfound power living inside her reacted to Stephen and she tried to suppress it but her eyes turned a brilliant blue in that moment as her emotions triggered her powers. She let out a sigh in frustration and turned her head away in shame, rubbing her temples to regain control.
“Don’t. Don’t restrain it. Don’t withhold the gift you’ve been given.”
Stephen stretched out his arm and gently cupped Christine’s chin between his fingers and thumb.
“Don’t hide from me. Show me. Show me how much more beautiful you’ve become.”
His eyes were dark; the thirst for power evident deep within them. Now Palmer was to share in the beauty of it all and Doctor Strange could not be more thrilled.
“How could I be sacrificing us when we‘be just been granted what we were supposed to have this entire time?”
Doctor Strange cupped her face between his hands.
“Don’t you see? This is what we were *meant* to be. This is us.”
Her heart dropped heavily. "I am afraid of these powers, and I can see in your eyes. I see darkness. I can't do this again, Stephen. It's the book or me; you have to decide. My powers— we were not meant to use them for bad things. These powers, yours and mine, are meant to create good, to help people. What I feel coming from this book is pure darkness. You should have learned from your variants how much they lost while using it. I don't want this to be our fate." She felt sadness creeping up in her, and she grabbed his wrist and slowly moved his hands away from her face.
"You love me. I am your wife; don't destroy it. Don't destroy us. I can help you, but not like this. What I see brings me no joy," she said, and her eyes slowly filled with tears.
A dilemma. How could she? How could she do this to him knowing the greatness he feels inside? It is as if fate itself bestowed these abilities onto Christine and returned her to Stephen. They are meant to be as they are now: intertwined by the wonders of the universe.
As his hands were removed, his heart sank deeper into the darkness dwelling inside of him. The sorcerer was shattered. Angry. Heartbroken by the same woman who broke his heart long ago.
He could not comprehend her denial of their fate. Who would deny this power? Together, they can conquer worlds. Why is she failing to understand this potential?
“You choose to deny what we are meant to be together,” he stated sinisterly. “Do you really think fate will take that lightly?”
Doctor Strange takes a step backward.
“It has a funny way of getting what it wants. Trust me, it will sooner or later.”
If you weren't touched by the darkness, you would understand the words you just said to me. My powers are meant to bring good, but yours, through the book, are not good. Either we find another way, and you help me while I help you... but I can't repeat the pain we went through." She stepped closer again, and even though she had tears in her eyes, she used her powers—the ones filled with all the positivity of this earth. She touched his chest, and maybe for a moment, she managed to lift the cloud the book had cast over him, but it caused her body so much pain. She needed him to see clearly for a little while.
"My love for you is endless. I will find a way; maybe this time it is me who needs to save us. It has always been you saving us. Always." Then she pulled her hand away and looked deeply into his eyes.
"I deny the darkness. But not you."
The touch to his chest possessed more magic than he could ever fathom of conjuring. Even in the darkness, Christine managed to pull him to the surface. Her touch resulted in a gasp escaping Stephen’s lips, and it was then that he was unburdened by the clouds looming over him all this time. In that moment, he was no longer blinded by power and darkness. Rather, he was rejoined by the love he shared with Christine.
“I’ve been consumed,” Stephen confessed with an undeniable ache in his tone.
“I’ve been consumed and I need help, Christine. I need your guidance.”
Noticing the tears in Christine’s eyes, Strange shakily stretched a hand toward her face with the fear that she will only push him away.
As his scarred hand made contact with her cheek, his thumb gently brushed over each tear streaming down her face.
“I can’t do this without you.”
The touch to his chest possessed more magic than he could ever fathom of conjuring. Even in the darkness, Christine managed to pull him to the surface. Her touch resulted in a gasp escaping Stephen’s lips, and it was then that he was unburdened by the clouds looming over him all this time. In that moment, he was no longer blinded by power and darkness. Rather, he was rejoined by the love he shared with Christine.
“I’ve been consumed,” Stephen confessed with an undeniable ache in his tone.
“I’ve been consumed and I need help, Christine. I need your guidance.”
Noticing the tears in Christine’s eyes, Strange shakily stretched a hand toward her face with the fear that she will only push him away.
As his scarred hand made contact with her cheek, his thumb gently brushed over each tear streaming down her face.
“I can’t do this without you.”
She bit her lips and looked at him as his eyes turned. Softly, she kissed his hand and his wrists. "I know, I know that you need my guidance this time. But my power, I can't control it as well as I wish. I am driven by emotions," she said, and then she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him hard against her chest, resting her head against his shoulder.
"I felt the darkness; my magic is the opposite of it. You need to help me too. When you are not clouded, you need to teach me. Give me a safe room where I can practice everything; help me when I lose control, like I did with you," she said, looking into his eyes.
"Let's do something good now. I don't know how long we have. Maybe tell me if nature might help you?"
In a split second, all doubt and fear escaped from Stephen’s mind and soul. Christine’s embrace reassured him that, even though he is lost at the moment, he is capable of returning to who he was before his mind was clouded by the Darkhold.
His darkness and her light. There was something oddly prophetic about it. In a way, Christine was always Stephen’s light, even before his accident. No matter the man he had become, approaching a point of no return, she was the light at the end of the tunnel. It should be no surprise that she has empathetic abilities.
Strange held her in silence. There was no need to rush this time. This was healing. Progress.
“Magic and empathy,” he stated quietly.
“I’m not surprised.” Pulling back, he cupped her face between his hands and looked directly into her eyes.
“I will help you, but first I need to find my way back. Your abilities, they’re… they’re not as detrimental as mine if I lost all control. It would be a wave of what? Positivity if you did? Maybe that’s what we all need right now.”
Christine felt the warmth of Stephen’s hands on her face, and for a moment, she allowed herself to stay in his gaze. His words were a mixture of vulnerability and humor, a rare blend she’d only seen in him when he was completely disarmed. She could feel the weight he carried, the scars the Darkhold had left on him—not just in his actions, but in his spirit. And yet, she also felt the flicker of hope that had been reignited.
She placed her hands gently over his, her fingers brushing lightly against his as she spoke, her voice calm but steady. “Stephen, magic doesn’t come from the same place for everyone. For you, it’s power and precision. It’s a tool, a weapon, sometimes a shield. For me, it’s... connection. I didn’t choose it—it chose me. And maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel like a burden. Maybe it’s because it’s not meant to be used the way yours is.”
Her eyes softened, a small, wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “And as much as I’d like to believe a wave of positivity could solve everything, I think we both know it’s not that simple. Empathy can be as dangerous as magic if it’s used recklessly. Feeling too much, connecting too deeply... it can overwhelm you, make you lose sight of yourself.”
Christine paused, her thumbs tracing small circles over the backs of his hands. “But that’s why I’m here. That’s why we’re both here. You’re finding your way back, and I’ll help you. I’ll help you shoulder the weight when it feels like too much. You don’t have to carry it all alone anymore.”
Her voice softened even more, barely a whisper. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid of losing control, Stephen. But you taught me something, whether you meant to or not. You taught me that it’s not about the fear—it’s about what you do with it. And I choose to stand with you, no matter what.”
Christine let her hands drop back to her sides, stepping back slightly, but her presence was unwavering. Her light, no longer just a metaphor, seemed to hum faintly in the air around her—a soft glow, not visible but palpable, like warmth after a long, cold night. “Now,” she added, a quiet determination in her tone, “let’s figure this out. Together.”
