I know you guys probably miss the other guys, but don't fret! the journey has been long, but we're almost there!

Immediately following this chapter I will start into the thor ragnarok timeline, this chapter has a lot to cover before we can get there, so it will be longer than usual. I love you all, enjoy the story!

Stephen Strange visited Lyra once every day, she didn't say anything for a few more days after that. A couple times he got some one word responses, but they never exceeded to more than that.

When he walked in, her plate he had previously brought her was untouched, that was almost six days she refused to eat. He huffed in frustration, she hardly reacted anymore when he came in, just stared at him, sometimes didn't even bother to look at him. He walked over briskly, only slowing briefly when she flinched. He picked up her old plate that was untouched, before replacing it with the new one, it had a sandwich and cooked potatoes, he tried something new everyday, trying to find out what she would eat.

He couldn't help but be slightly aggravated at the waste of food, but it was obvious she had undergone some serious trauma, it was the only explanation in his mind. He looked at her.

"Ly- I mean, Bird, you can't continue to starve yourself. You have to eat something." He instructed her, her throat bobbed, and he could see the hunger in her eyes when she saw the new plate of food. But then she looked away, her eyes wide and strangely hopeless.

"Come on, it's not like it's poisoned." Strange said insistently, but not unkindly. He had to remind himself to be patient with her. With her dry laugh and her wandering gaze, he figured his sarcastic comment actually was a good guess. She was expecting something to happen if she ate it.

He sighed, before picking up her fork and shoving a potato in his mouth, making sure she saw himself chew and swallow. He sat the fork down and motioned toward the plate. "See?" He said, giving her a friendly smile. She looked at him, and then the plate, still just a disbelieving, but he took a step away from her nonetheless.

Hesitantly, with a slow, shaking hand, she reached forward and grabbed a slice of cooked potato. She brought it to her mouth, looking at him and back to the food before slowly popping it in her mouth. He couldn't help but smile a little, knowing that she was at least getting a little better.

She chewed equally as slowly, and when she finally swallowed she was tense, her eyes squeezed shut, waiting for something. Her shoulders relaxed and she sighed, looking on the verge of tears.

Strange gave her a big smile, before turning around, picking up the still undisturbed clothes off of the chair and placing it on the foot of the bed, before sitting in the armchair, watching her with glee as she continued to eat. She looked genuinely confused and concerned while she ate, but her hunger probably won her over. By the look of her, she'd gone longer without food, with her hollow cheeks and ribs that poked from her skin.

"When was the last time you ate, Bird?" He asked, watching her carefully, she sucked in a breath at the nickname, which he assumed she didn't like, but didn't know what else to call her. Her real name made her look like she was about to stab herself in the throat with a pencil.

She looked at him, opened her mouth to answer him, but then looked up like she honestly didn't remember. "I-" She started, she shook her head. "I don't remember."

He knitted his brows together. He said, very carefully, "Can you tell me what you do remember?" She tensed at that, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. It was clear she wasn't going to talk about it anymore, so he let go. He looked around the room, until his eyes landed on the clothes he had brought her before. He cracked a small smile, trying to set her at ease. "If you aren't going to shower, you might as well change. You've been in those rags God knows how long," He laughed, trying to set her toward something positive, like getting comfortable.

He was surprised to see her jerk her head up, annoyance flashing in her eyes. She stood up suddenly, making eye contact with him, and failing at hiding the sway in her feet, his eyes glinted with humor as she grabbed the side of the bed to steady herself, almost in agitation. She grabbed the over sized men's t-shirt and began to pull it over her head, raising her arms. Strange, watching her with amusement at the first show in emotion (other than fear) from her, paused. He could see now, lash marks, scars, burns, twisted bones beneath her thin skin, covering her from head to toe.

He stood up in shock. "Holy shit," He stuttered as he stared at her in disbelief.

Someone did this to her, someone sick and twisted. That's why she was acted like something terrible happened to her: something terrible did happen to her.

That's also why she was terrified of everyone, she thought they'd do the same.

Lyra was frozen, her eyes wide with the shirt still in her hands. She was pale, looking terrified. She had the shirt in front of her chest, as if it protected her from him. Stephen looked at her face, realizing he had been staring at her semi-naked body far too long, looking at the evidence of years of torment like he could live through some of it himself if he stared long enough.

"Lyra- what- what happened to you?"

She was shaking now, her face red and her lips trembling. She looked terrified- he was about to try and calm her down when he glanced at Lyra's face. Oh, he thought. She wasn't scared at all.

She was furious.

"Get out." She spat, staring at him with heat blazing in her eyes. He thought that look alone might set him ablaze, and had no idea that thought very well was true. "Okay, calm down, just please- tell me what happened- I can help you-"

"You know damn well what happened to me," She growled, she took confident steps toward him. He faltered back, "Wh-what-" "STOP PRETENDING!" She wailed, angry tears springing from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. "There is no hope for you to give me. You do not fool me. So stop fucking pretending!" She was screaming now, eyes and face turning red, Strange, ever confused and terrified, noticed the significant rise in temperature in the room. He looked around in confusion.

"I don't know what you've been through, but-" "I SAID STOP! If you're going to hurt me, GET IT OVER WITH! If not-" she gulped, standing inches away from Strange now. "Get the fuck OUT!"

Strange staggered to the door as she power walked toward him. "Lyr- " He stopped, eyes widening as he stared at her.

Flames were wrapped around her palms, they began to circle her arms and touched her skin, she didn't even blink. "Holy shit-"

The minute she followed his eyes and saw the fire, she yelped and it disappeared. She stared at her hands, eyes wide. Her hands trembled and tears fell out of her lids. She then said quietly, almost calmly, "get out,"

This time, he obliged.

-

I fell to my knees in the middle of the room, and the sobs came immediately, with no delay between the moment the door closes. I stared at my hands, but it was impossible- I couldn't summon my fire during illusions.

My hands shook as I looked at them, I hadn't noticed it before- was too naive to notice it- but I could feel it there, the phantom caress of the heat in my veins.

I wouldn't let myself think of the possibility then, but now it was all I could hope for, all I could cry for, what if I had escaped? What if he saved me from that planet? I bent over and cried, cupping my hands to my chest. I hated the uncertainty, I hated the fear, but I couldn't bring myself to summon the fire again to be sure. Because if I couldn't, all this hope-

I curled up in the middle of the floor, hunkered over my hand, trying to give myself the motivation. I turned my head skyward, sniffling, and squeezing my eyes shut. I let my fire wrap around my fist, I felt its heat and I released a shuddering sob, before looking back down and gasping. Flames spawned in my hand, hugging my skin with its heat.

I sobbed, falling to the floor and crying. Please. I begged nobody. Let this be real.

I laid on the floor for several seconds, before a deep male voice, different than mine, different than any I recognize or any I dread, answered me. You're safe now, Admiral.

Admiral.

That name, I'd never been taunted with it before. Like Bird, Lyra, love, or sometimes princess.

But Admiral, how did it seem so familiar yet so clueless?

I cried, but I smiled, I believed the voice: and I liked the name, too.

-

Strange waited a day before coming back to check on her. Truth be told, he was terrified to. Lyra hadn't exploded like that since the first day she was there, and that was far more intense than her last outburst.

Her last outburst she hadn't literally burst into flames. Then again, she tried to stab herself in the throat that time. Shit, he thought. Did she try again? He knocked on her door, calling out her false name. "Bird?" When she didn't answer, he let himself in.

When he walked in, he was surprised. She had taken a book from the nightstand and was sitting at the end of the bed, brows together in confusion as she looked at the words. She looked up and saw him, and he expected her to react poorly, or say nothing like she usually did, but to his surprise-

she talked

"I don't remember saying you could come in," She said, but she sounded humored. He frowned, why was she acting different?

"It's good to see you're feeling better," Strange said, but he wasn't sure. She gave him a small half smile, before closing the book and looking at the cover, she had a book on astral projection in her hands. "You know, I actually don't remember how to read. I look at the letters, and I remember they have a meaning, but I don't know what." Lyra said, running her fingers on the lettering. He studied her for a moment, she still shook a little, and she seemed nervous with his presence. But she acted like she was trying to improve, to become comfortable, but she still sat stiff on the end of the bed. He wondered when was the last time she'd talked comfortably with someone, but he still had to give it to her for trying.

He sat on the armchair, surprised that she didn't crawl away from him considering the armchair was close to where she was sitting.

"Are you.. okay?" He asked cautiously, trying to prevent another freak out. She smiled at him, though it was clearly forced and looked more like a grimace. "I um-" She started, taking a breath as she fixed her eyes on the cover of the book. "I need to apologize." She said. He was surprised by that.

"I shouldn't, shouldn't have-" She sucked in a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut. He leaned forward and placed a hand on hers, "It's alright," He said, she gave him a tight smile, but her eyes were glued to his hand. He moved his hand back, forgetting himself for a moment.

She straightened, blinking her red eyes before actually looking at him. "I just.. I didn't know that this was real. That..." She sighed, closing her eyes and tugging her shirt collar down, exposing the gnarly brand on her chest, and a few scars that littered her neck area. But his eyes immediately went to the nasty scar tissue that was obviously some sort of ownership tag or symbol, burned into her skin. "you wouldn't do the same to me." She finished, before covering herself again. He gulped, refraining himself from asking who it was that did that.

"What changed?" He asked gently. She held her palm open in her lap, staring at it intently, before a small flame spawned in it. He sucked in a breath, watching cautiously and she gazed at it like she was hypnotized. She let it wrap around her fingers and it danced in her palm. "This. " She said simply, then elaborated. 

"I was put through...  illusions."  She sucked in a breath. "I didn't know what was real, but I could never summon my fire during them, and I did- and it opened my eyes-" She was crying now, tears falling from her eyes. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her arm. And then suddenly she fell forward, her body shuddering with sobs. He went onto his knees on the floor and caught her, and she surprised him when she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, trembling all over, and weeping. He hugged her back, tentative and confused, and a little uncomfortable, but didn't let her go all the while.

"Thank you," She sobbed, her arms trembling as she clenched him. "For what?" He asked in confusion. After one long second, she pulled away from him, sitting back on the bed and wiping her eyes.

"For breaking me out of that hell,"

-

"Tell me his name again?"

Lyra looked at Strange. It had been a few days since she'd known this was real, that she'd escaped, and Strange was trying to help her remember what happened. She had pieces of memory, but nothing solid.

"Thanos." She breathed, wringing her hands at the thought of his name.

"And you don't remember anything?" Strange asked carefully, she was sitting crossed legged on the bed, hanging her head down and staring at the bedspread, running her fingers along the seams. "I remember.. whispers. Pieces of what-" She paused, taking a deep breath. "happened to me. But  nothing of before, or even during." She said, careful with her wording. It was clear everything was still fresh to her, as she'd gotten out just over a week ago. She hardly remembered what happened to the moments leading up to Stephen Strange finding her and rescuing her, she remembers Thanos, and running-

and then Stephen.

When she looked at him, he had a sympathetic gaze fixed on her. "I'm sorry, Bird-" she sucked in a shaky breath. "Please, don't call me that anymore." She said quickly, cutting him off. He raised a brow. "All right, what should I call you?"

She glanced at him. "U-um, what's my real name?" She asked, having a suspicion she knew what it was.

He nodded. "It's Lyra, you know, the one that keeps making you freak out."

She nodded her head sheepishly. "Thank you. I'm sorry. " Lyra muttered.

"It's alright, let's just focus on getting your memory back for now. "

-

"Let me try something, I have an idea." Stephen said that day, he walked into my room without knocking, not that I minded. I'd gotten quite used to his presence in the last few weeks, which had turned into a month. And the more days that passed, the more I grew comfortable with him. Even if I couldn't remember my past, he was my life now. Thanos had took mine away.

"Okay?" I said, looking up at him.

He sat on the armchair again, his designated seat that was eventually moved to closer to the head of the bed now that I wasn't terrified of him.

"I won't do this if you're not comfortable, but I may be able to get figure out the problem with the astral plane. I will have to look around- in your mind-"

I breathed in nervously, but nodded. "If it means I can get my memories back, then let's do it. What do I need to do?" I asked him, he nodded, "I need you to stand up, I can handle everything."

I stood up in front of him, and crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, small circular disks of light at the end of his pointer fingers. "I'm going to send you into your Astral body, this way you can't feel me poking around in there. Are you ready?" He asked. I sucked in a breath and nodded, and I gasped as I suddenly felt myself exit my body.

I looked around in confusion, I was apart from myself, a ghosty light form of me walking around instead of actual me. Actual me was falling, but in over exaggerated slow motion.

Strange's eyes were closed with concentration, and I watched him with intrigue at the golden disks that surrounded his hands, this magic was so different than what I'd seen before. But I paused at the thought, I hadn't seen magic before, was that a memory hidden in my mind somewhere? I could only hope Strange helped me.

After a moment, I was sucked back into my body and I gasped in surprise, stumbling forward, Stephen, also coming from whatever funk he was in, quickly snapped to reality and gripped my elbows to steady me. "That was...an experience." I said, surprisingly drained. I sat back onto the bed, looking at Stephen. "Astral projection is draining on anyone who's not used to it." He said, he began to do something with his hands, stretching a golden line that transformed into different shapes with his movements.

"Yeah.. I'm definitely seeing that." I sighed. "Any luck?" I asked, he pressed his hands together, eyebrows raised as the gold pattern transformed again to an array of symbols . "Actually, yes."

I straightened, ready to hear whatever's going to bring me back my memory.

He stared at the golden symbols he displayed in front of him, brows pinched in concentration.  "Well?"I asked. He sighed. "There's something there... that isn't supposed to be. It's almost dormant, but it's also blocking your memories." Stephen said. He frowned as he looked at the golden patterns, I mirrored his expression. "Dormant? What does that mean?" I murmured. He glanced at me.

"It means whatever's there is waiting for a command of some sort; an activation. I'm not sure what this command is, or what it will do when its activated." He said, he looked clearly confused and that did not set me at ease.

"Wait, I don't get it, is it a piece of technology?" I asked in confusion. He shook his head, wiggling his fingers and the pattern changed. "No, technology is more consistent, and its a material... this.." He sucked in a breath, as if he realized. "It's magic." He said. I pinched my brows together. "Magic? That's what blocking my memory?"

"Yes, but its not just there for that. It has another purpose, I don't know what for."

"Can you get rid of it?" I asked, worry building inside me. He looked at me and I feared the answer after his gaze. "I can't, it's structure is like nothing I've ever seen before." He moves his hands about, moving the golden patterns like he was trying to study something.

"I can, and I did unblock your memories, though." He said it as an afterthought, but it was huge to me. "Wait, really? I'll be able to remember my life?" I exclaimed with growing excitement. I was tired of living in unsure whispers, and I was ready to remember things from before. I was ready to find out who I was. But by the look on his face, that excitement quickly left.

"Yes," He sighs, looking at the patterns. "But not just that. You'll remember everything, whatever you've been through, you can only remember pieces. But.. not anymore." He said, watching my reaction carefully.

I could practically feel the color drain from my face. I'd been so grateful for how little I remembered of Thanos. Could I handle remembering it all? I'd wanted to kill myself to escape just weeks ago, would I be able to stop myself if I knew it all?

I took in a shaky breath. "If that's what it takes." I said, trying to sound sure of myself, but my voice trembled. "When will I.. remember?" I asked. "You won't remember everything at once, but in large chunks. I'm not sure when it will be, but, if you start to remember things, come find me, okay? You might do something...drastic."

I nodded shortly, giving him a tight smile, and pretending that I didn't have the same thought.

-

A couple nights passed, no memories came back to me. The anticipation was driving me nuts, and so was Strange a little bit. He visited the room I stayed in more than twice a day now, and I could tell he was removing sharp objects from the room discreetly. It was a little annoying, but I knew his heart was in the right place.

I hadn't taken a shower the entire month I'd been there, and I could tell one was due. I'd been hesitant to get naked and vulnerable, even if I knew I was safe, and I hated seeing the scars on my body. Hated not knowing when or where I got them.

Hated knowing I would soon know.

I stripped down and turned on the water in the connected bathroom to the bedroom, watching the drops fall to the bath in the bottom. When I stepped in, the water was hotter than I thought it was going to be. The heat didn't bother me, it lived in me. I let the heat wash over me as I watched the steam rise in the shower. 

Steam that looked an awful lot like smoke.

The heat in the shower increased, turning into the air I breathed. I thought the heat reminded me of the flames I possessed, but it was something different.

Suddenly I was seeing flashes of fire, people running, people screaming, until it wasn't flashes.

I watched the memory of Thanos, touching my hair tentatively. "Little bird," He told me.

"Get the stone, burn anyone who stands in the way."

And then I did, I watched myself mindlessly burn thousands, thousands turning into millions while the power stone was clutched in my fist. I decimated an entire planet.

I killed millions.

I desperately tried to escape the heat, falling out of the shower door and onto the bathroom floor and splashing water everywhere. Agony and shame screamed in my chest and I wailed with the realization, scrubbing at my hands with my nails, trying to rid myself of the warmth that tingled there. My skin turned red as images as blue flame swallowed people whole as they tried to run away from me, terror in their eyes. Women carried children in their arms and I pressed my palms into my temples, crying and sobbing on the floor.

Vile rose in my throat and I fell to the toilet on my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach.

The door busted open and Stephen was there, eyes wide, no doubt hearing my wailing.

I couldn't even think about him, the fact he found me naked and screaming on the bathroom floor, could only see and smell burning flesh and feel the shame, the agony, the guilt penned up inside me. Stephen grabs a towel and wraps it around my shoulders, gathering my hair behind my back and letting me cry and empty my stomach.

I didn't deserve to live, couldn't live with the memory. With the guilt.

But I had to.

I must have voiced this, because Stephen stopped rubbing the towel on my back. "It wasn't you." He murmured. I shuddered, sobs racking my chest. He knew what I was reliving. He was at the planet when it happened.

He saved me from there, but not before my flames devoured the streets and burned innocent lives.

-

Strange had figured out, when he found Lyra naked and weeping on the bathroom floor, what the purpose of the magic in her head was. It was how Thanos had controlled her into doing what she did on Xandar.

But it was not the time to tell her that, maybe the time would never come.

No one wanted to hear that someone had literal mind control over you.