Potentiality

Initiation

Stiles watched as his pack stepped through one of Strange's portals back to Beacon Hills. They'd just said their goodbyes and he could just tell Strange was judging them, though Stiles had to admit it was a bit too teary considering he could visit home at the weekend probably if he wanted to because portals, duh.

But bad things did have a bad tendency of happening to people from Beacon Hills and the pack didn't like to let each other out of sight for too long. Even Peter looked worried... Okay maybe not worried but distrustful of Doctor Strange, probably doubting his ability to make sure Stiles was safe, Peter had always had his personal reasons for wanting Stiles relatively unharmed and now Stiles realised it was probably because of this whole Spark potentiality thing. As long as Stiles had known him, Peter had craved power.

The long boring talk had gone surprisingly well in the end, even if it was long and boring. The pack had agreed to help out with the problem so long as there wasn't a threat in Beacon Hills that took priority and so long as there were people left behind to defend the area if anyone got any ideas in their absence.

Stiles had also agreed to help, though he wasn't sure what he could do. Even if he did have a powerful spark, it wasn't like he knew how to use it.

When an attack happened, Strange or another practioneer of the Mystic arts would help get whoever went to where it was happening or an aircraft if it was close enough and therefore more convenient. Then they would help get it under control and bring the culprit, if caught, to be interviewed to try to stop any more attacks. However, this was unlikely to happen as every culprit but for two (one of which had been caught whilst Stiles was sipping a frappuccino and waiting for Strange) had been captured. The rest had escaped somehow, possibly the person organising this had a teleporter.

The pack waved to Stiles as Strange closed the portal, Scott looking a bit teary. There was an odd silence once it was closed: just Strange and Stiles were in the room now and between Tony Stark and the pack it hadn't been silent for a while. The last time there had been peace and quiet, Stiles recalled, was in his rented New York apartment that morning which felt so long ago considering what had happened since- even though it had probably only been 8 hours at the most.

'So, ' said Stiles, breaking the silence. 'What now? '

Strange raised an eyebrow, glancing at a watch. '6'O Clock- I believe it's dinner time'

Stiles frowned. 'Where? '

They'd had lunch during the long boring talk earlier, nibbling on sandwiches between discussion, it had been hard to procure a decent flavoured sandwich as the others had dived in like wolves.. which couldn't be helped, Stiles supposed, as a lot of them were half wolf. And one of them was freaking Black Widow.

. Anyhow, Stiles wasn't looking forward to risking his life fighting for a pork chop or slice of pizza or whatever was on the menu. 'Don't worry' laughed Strange, looking at the expression on Stiles' face. 'We'll eat at the sanctum'

Stiles breathed a sigh if relief but was also slightly terrified, imagining a dark long mahogany table full of powerful mysterious strangers- masters of the Mystic arts.

-----

'What? ' said Stiles, jaw agape as they stepped through a portal into- into McDonald's.

'Not what you were expecting? ' asked Strange, ignoring the gaping people around and joining the queue. Stiles hurried to follow him, feeling incredibly self-conscious having just stepped through a magic portal into a McDonald's. 'I bet you were expecting a big dark long table full of cloaked people with roast venison or something'

Stiles joined the gapers with his facial expression. 'Can you read minds? '

'No ' smirked Strange. 'That's just what Peter thought when I got him dinner. '