[ Sanctum Sanctorum ]

The day after yesterday.

"Ah, crap. Jesus..." Strange moaned, cracking his wrist bone. Looking at the scars he attained—not from his tragic accident—but from yesterday, he sighed. "Are they still inside the box?"

His cape tapped him on his shoulder and waved up and down—signifying that they were.

It had been a long day of fighting yesterday, and it was time to fully assess the situation that had transpired.

The barely awake Strange walked down the same steps that he took with Peter, leading to the same dungeon that they performed the Multiversal spell that failed tremendously. He wished that it had worked—that he would have found his Multiversal Warriors, but it wasn't meant to be.

—This time, he had gotten something much worse.

"He's not going to be able to handle this." He thought, entering the dungeon.

The altar was still there, rotating mindlessly. However, there was a cube, which had runic and ancient designs plastered all over it, floating on top of the altar. It was coloured in green and gold.

"Is there even a spell that could stop this?" Strange pondered, looking around the cube. Looking throughout the dungeon, he noticed one detail: "And now I have to get rid of all this sand."

As he circled the altar, he noticed something was off—one of the locks were loose. There were locks on six sides of the cube, with each lock being able to serve as a handle. It seemed impossible, as he had made sure every lock was in place yesterday. Now, one of them was gone.

—They were walking in their universe.

This frightened Strange more than anything.

"Where did he go..." Strange muttered to himself, touching the surface of the cube. "Who even—"

He realized who had escaped. It was the worst one possible.

"You've got to be shitting me..." He covered his face with his hand. "It had to be him."

—A gasp and a face beyond belief.

"Parker."

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Meanwhile...

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"You have reached the phone of Stephen Strange. I am currently busy with such sp—"

Peter sighed, placing his face on the table. Nothing goes his way anymore these days. Even the school he was in right now; they were still giving him stares and comments. It wasn't as hurtful as two months earlier, but there was still a sense of dissatisfaction.

And now, he was sitting with Ned, who had gotten much slimmer between the time of Peter's revelation and now. They were just talking about plans to spend time together and what he had done the day before—meet with Strange.

"So? What did he say?" Ned curiously asked.

Peter threw one of his hands up. "Nothing. He's probably too 'busy' fixing whatever mess we made yesterday."

"Well, it is the Doctor Strange—the guy who was literally doing magic and circle-thingies six years ago."

"Yeah... but... I thought I could depend on him. Just fixing all of this."

"Woah, woah..." Ned had stopped him, "Depend on him? I can see you asking for help, but you don't need to depend on him. You're Spider-Man!"

"I know, Ned, I know." Peter nodded but slowly turned into him shaking his head. "But, I'm just a friendly-neighbour hood Spider-Man; and people still think I'm a murderer."

"But there's still some people that believe in Spider-Man."

"And I need people to believe in Peter Parker—but they don't."

"I believe in you." Ned assured.

Peter looked broken, but smiled once his friend said that. At this point in time, he's been taking anyone's advice. Anything good that comes his way—even at the slightest—he has been taking it.

"Thanks, bud..." Peter tapped Ned on the shoulder, "Where you going after this?"

"You know, club meeting."

"Really busy today, huh?"

"Yeah;" Ned grabbed his bag, "So, you 'meetin with MJ?"

"Oh..." Peter shook his head, "She's not at school. She 'kinda got sick."

"Alright then," Ned was about to exit the classroom, when he turned back to Peter. "You didn't spend the day with me just bec—"

"No. No, god, no!" Peter profusely denied. "It—it's because you're busy with the club and—"

"It's alright, Peter." Ned chuckled. It was nice for him to see his friend so joyful. It took him back to the old times—before the whole 'Peter Parker is Spider-Man' ordeal. "Catch you later."

"Yeah, you too."

—And thus, Peter smiled.

But for how longer...

A few minutes later...

Where was Peter Parker?

The answer to that would be moping around outside of the school building. Even two months after being discovered, no one wants to approach him. There's only a few people in his social circle, and besides that, he's got nothing. The whole world is still wary of him.

Happy has reached out a few times, but was too busy discussing terms about the Stark satellites that were used by E.D.I.T.H. Still, Peter appreciates the time that they talk with one another.

For Mr. Murdock, Peter has been mingling with him less and less nowadays. It was the occasional question and reassurance that they were going to win the case. But with the trial being held in a few days, he was doubting whether they were going to make it on time.

On the other hand, Aunt May was doing terrific in her job at FEAST. She had made her mark at that place and was slowly being recognized as one of their harder workers. Peter could gladly confirm that after his numerous visits to her.

Now that he thought of it, none of these good and bad things would have happened if he had been more careful. There would have been less people having to adapt to a better situation if he had trusted the right person. Someday, he'll prove that he can trust the right person.

Someday.

Instead, he had reached the back of the school where the field of wildlife was. A forest, if you will. It was usually the place where people would go after school and just do...

—You know.

But for now, it was empty. There was a lot of green to look at. Nothing but green...

When was this nightmare going to end. When will he be seen as Peter Parker again and not "Spider-Man." He wants to protect people and have his own life. Was it that hard to achieve?

The more you do it, the more dangerous it becomes.

What did Mr. Strange know about living two different lives. As if he had people that he cared about in one life, and a reality in another. If he could just understand.

If anyone understood him, then maybe—

"Peter!"

Peter snapped out of it, looking to the direction of the sound. It was people from his actual social circle—Betty Brant and Flash Thompson. Flash, always dashing with his blonde hair, approached him. "What 'you doing here, buddy?"

"Oh, I'm just..." Peter pointed out to the forest without saying anything.

Betty widened her eyes. "I didn't take you as much of a wildlife lover. Is that the Spid—"

"Betty..." He scolded.

"Oh... right... no talking about the 'thing.'" She repeated, but thought. "How come Ned gets to talk about it?"

"C'mon, Betty. Ned is close to Peter. You have to understand it," Flash explained, nodding to seek Peter's approval.

"Yeah... that's right." Peter had followed along. "Anyways, what's up? Why'd you call?"

"Oh, it was because we were doing a fundraiser on Friday. It's for the school project, and we wanted to use it to get the school fair up and running." Betty gulped, "So... we were wondering if—"

"—Spider-Man would show up..." Peter could clearly see where it was going. "Betty, I'm having my trial in a few days. People hate me!"

"Not everyone, Peter. Most of local New York still love you. The school still loves you. Not everyone has given up o—"

"I see where you're coming from, Betty, but I can't. I promise you, it won't be a good look on the school; and it will absolutely not be a good look on my case. What will the public think of me?!" Peter raised his hands, "Next thing I know, the Bugle is putting out headlines like: 'Spider-Man: Party Thrower or Murderer.'"

"But the school won't have enough funds for the school fair and the Halloween party. We need this fundraiser to hit."

"Yeah, I know, but—"

}{ }{ }{ }{ }{

The Peter-Tingle.

"Um, guys. Who is that?" Flash alluded to the person Peter sensed behind them.

When they focused their attention beyond the gates, there was a figure standing out there—covered in the wildlife grass.

It looked to be a man in the older part of the spectrum. They looked lost in thought and in reality. They were confused. Their clothes did not seem to be of the wealthy kind, but looked passable. What was important was that they seemed... menacing.

But there was one thing that was going for him.

—It was enough to trigger his Peter-Tingle.

"Hey, who are you?! Show your face!" Peter demanded.

—And so, the man obliged.

"Who the hell is that?" Flash asked, coming closer to the fence.

"HEY!" Peter had gotten more aggressive than his companions. Getting close to the fence, his voice got louder. "WHAT'S YOUR NAME!"

The man looked at him, gasping at the air given to him "Help m—"

"NAME!"

He simply stared. No words to be said.

"I SWEAR, IF YOU DON'—"

Everybody froze when the sound of sparks rang off to the side. Beside them, a portal was opened. Peter knew where this was from. Where else could it have came from.

"Parker, I think your visit is up." Strange proclaimed. Betty and Flash stepped back in surprise. "Please, keep this to yourselves."

"Yo—your... your Doctor Strange!" Flash immediately recognized.

"I just..." Strange frustratingly gritted his teeth. He turned to Peter. "You're coming with me."

"Me? But what about—"

—Gone.

"What about what?"

"Wha—" Peter had to shake his head to see if he was just hallucinating. Strange doubted him once more. "The—there was just one—"

"Peter." Strange made him stop. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"My place. I've already got your clothes and such there."

"Clothes?!"

"You'll be staying with me for a bit."

"But, sir... I got the whole thing with the case and—"

"PARKER!" He beratingly groaned, "Get inside," he ordered, pointing to the portal.

"Sir!" Flash paused when Strange gave him a cold look. "Um, when will Peter be back?"

"When I give him the say so." Strange followed Peter who had forcingly entered the portal.

[ Sanctum Sanctorum ]

Peter looked at the same building he had been in yesterday. It seemed like all the cleaning was being delayed, as there was no other visible workers inside. He had also noticed that there were some broken glass and sand scattered around. It seemed like a busy afternoon when he left the day before.

"So, how long do I actually have to stay here?" Peter asked, no answer coming his way. "Mr—"

—And like that, Strange was gone too.

"Um, Stephen?"

"Peter?"

Finding the source of the sound, it was at the top of the stairs. There was the girl with hazel hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a beanie, and looked rather ill than optimistic.

"MJ?" Peter approached her at the top of the stairs. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I could ask the same to you." She asked, meeting him at the middle.

"Did Mr. Strange bring you here?"

"Uh, yeah." She looked around. "So, this is where he lives?"

"It's more like a place where he does magic."

"Wow..." MJ chuckled, "So, he's like a wizard?"

"Um... he's more like a sorcerer."

"But he does magic? Wizards do a lot of magic." She explained, as they went down the stairs. "Isn't he the one who has the weird yellow things?"

"Yeah, those weird symbol things."

"So he's basically Dumbledore?"

"No. No!" Peter argued passionately, "Mr. Strange is a definite sorcerer."

"What's the difference?"

"One has a hat and the other doesn't!"

As they playfully argued, another portal opened. This time, the sound of continuous questioning began as they exited. It was Strange once more but with another companion—Ned.

"Guys?" Ned asked, approaching them.

Peter let Ned join him and MJ before talking to Strange.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because..." Strange lowered to their level. "I'm trying to protect you three."

"From what?"

"..." Strange stood their in silence until he made a decision. "I'm protecting you from that as well."

"Then how are we going to defend for ourselves?"

"No need to. You're in the Sanctum Sanctorum anyways."

"Hey man..." MJ began with Strange.

"Sorcerer..." He glanced at Peter and back to MJ. "Supreme."

"You have to tell us what's happening. We have family and friends who we care about. Why are we the only ones you're protecting?"

"Because the one's who is dangerous won't be looking for them; they'll be looking for you." Strange sighed, "It's always you all."

"How long do you see us staying here then?" Ned added.

"As long as I need to get rid of the threat." He waved his cape, unlocking another door. "You'll be staying here."

"But Mr... sir." Peter confronted. "If you need to get rid of this threat, I can help. I'll prove it to you."

"I'd rather not, Parker. This job isn't suited for you."

"Then what makes him suitable for the job?" MJ interrupted. "He's Spider-Man. He's an Avenger. He does good things. What does he have to prove to you?"

Strange squinted. He was dead serious. "That he can be a competent Peter Parker."