OH, BOY. HERE WE GO AGAIN, EH? YET ANOTHER ORIGINAL CHARACTER, BUT THIS SIMPLY WOULD NOT LET ME GO, SO I SUCCUMBED AND WENT WITH THE FLOW. HOPE YOU LIKE MY NEWEST OC! I KNOW I LABELLED THIS A CROSS-OVER BETWEEN AVENGERS AND DR. STRANGE. I DIDN'T KNOW HOW ELSE TO MAKE SURE I WOULDN'T BE REPORTED FOR COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT OR WHATEVER, SO...YEAH. ENJOY!
GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!
~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER
It had been a normal day, but it all went wrong when I was handed my bill for lunch at a cafe.
The explosion knocked me down and the table ensured I would stay where I was, made of solid metal. Then, an alien being approached, blue and armored and hostile. I was thankful it kicked me out from under the table, but not so much when I was held up by my throat, a huge alien gun-thing pressing into my abdomen. I gagged and choked and tried to get this thing's hands off me, to no avail. Then, something thudded into the alien's back, exploding a second later. I was knocked out of the hold, crashing into the window of the restaurant and screaming as several shards gashed and tore into my back, most sticking out as I shakily pulled myself up and looked up to see a man on the roof opposite me, firing arrow after arrow into the advancing alien ranks. He gestures for me to move and I hold my thumb up, wondering if he had even seen before turning and making sure that everyone cowering in the restaurant was out and away from the danger.
Unfortunately, the aliens found us quickly and they began firing helter-skelter. Several civilians fell, wounded or killed before I whacked one upside the head with a board blasted from the wall. It turned and I realized too late what an awful mistake I had made. I pale, the board slipping from my fingers, but then I hear a gunshot and there's an African American man with a well-maintained goatee and short hair is holding a pistol, already firing at the only other alien before turning to me.
"Thanks." I tell him genuinely, shaking myself out of my stupor.
"No sweat. Try not to freeze up next time and we'll call it even." I grin, already moving with the man toward the head of the alley we hid in.
"Deal. I'm Ashleigh, by the way."
"Sam Wilson. Pleasure to-" He gets a look at my back and freezes, cursing under his breath. "Ashleigh, you have-"
"Glass in my back, I know! It actually doesn't hurt that bad." I mutter, slightly embarrassed. I had kinda forgotten about it, really. "Now-look out!" Too late, we're blasted backwards by a grenade-like thing tossed by a small group of aliens. Landing on my side by pure luck, I somehow get up and face the alley, only for a huge green guy-the Hulk, I realize blearily-destroys our offenders before roaring and charging into another group. Sam and I look at each other and simultaneously shrug.
"New York these days, I tell yah..." He muses with a straight face. I chuckle.
"Let's see if we can get these shards out. They're starting to really hurt." Sam tries to slip my arm over his shoulder, but I move away. "Thanks, but I got it. There's a hospital just up the street. Come on." Sam gapes at me, bewildered.
"How did you-"
"My brother works there. Let's go."
=#=#=#=#=
Being sister to someone like Stephen Strange has both its pros and its cons. One pro being that there's no wait because Stephen knows that if I come to his hospital, its serious. Not that I have anything against hospitals. Its just that I have next to no money, having just started my career as a Librarian. Thus, visits to the hospitals are few and far between, Steve diagnosing and treating me at home for free, cus usually my problems were not severe enough for Stephen to send me to the hospital.
One con being that he's prone to calling me when things get crazy and/or (heaven forbid) he catches wind of mugging near my apartment.
And with the alien invasion happening, I am honestly shocked he didn't call me sooner.
"Hey-" I didn't even get to finish greeting him.
"Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!" I have to chuckle.
"Uh...not really." I glare at Sam when he gives me a look.
"I know that tone, Ashleigh. What's wrong?" Steve asks sincerely. I roll my eyes.
"Stephen."
"Ashleigh." He insists. I groan.
"Fine. I'm coming." I grumble and end the call before he can insist on knowing what's wrong. For some reason, I'd rather not discuss it over the phone.
"Hey, bro." I greet in the waiting room, Sam for some reason still sitting beside me. It's not like it had been a long wait, but still. Steve looks quizzically at me, arriving practically right as we did.
"Ashleigh. What is it?" I turn, revealing my back, and hear my brother's gasp. He then pulls me up and toward the nearest empty room. I roll my eyes. He always was overprotective.
Which is partly why I am still single, or so I tell myself. Stephen gently peels my shirt up, and I hold it there as my brother begins to pull the glass out slowly and carefully, making sure that there is nothing left behind. Once that's done, it feels like hours have passed but can't have been more than five minutes, he takes me to the bathroom and instructs me to get my back cleaned before he can stitch up and dress my wounds as he leaves, a hospital gown already on the counter. I hesitantly get undressed and take a shower, keeping the water as hot as I can take whilst trying not to cry from the pain as the water hits my back, cleaning it and making sure it won't be infected. Coming out, I spot Stephen out in the waiting room, talking to Sam. I groan. He's probably giving the 'protective big brother' speech by now.
Honestly, I cannot talk to any guy at all without Stephen's mother hen instincts kicking into overdrive. I cough to get his attention from the doorway and he comes over.
"He seems nice." Stephen notes crisply. I roll my eyes.
"I literally just met him during the sci-fi movie going on out there. Quit it!" He merely huffs and draws bandages from a container.
"Regardless, you need to be careful." I groan.
"I am not interested in him! Seriously!" I growl. Stephen lightly smacks my shoulder.
"I meant about your back. These gashes are just barely outside the stitch requirement. They'll open easily. So no gallivanting about." I hide my face in my hands.
"No one uses that phrase anymore...but thanks for patching me up." He smiles and side-hugs me.
"Anything for you. You know that." I smile.
"I know." I say as I gently pull my shirt back over my torso with help from Stephen. He advises against it until I said I was not going around in a hospital gown til I get home. That changed his mind.
=#=#=#=#=
That night, I hardly slept, too restless, so I decided to listen to music and draw. Drawing was fairly relaxing, although I paled in comparison to Stephen.
In yet another area. He had gotten through college first, landed a job first...a great, well-paying job. First. Always, he needed to be first, and if he wasn't...he pressed himself harder until he was. I'd had one victory; learning to read first. Even at five and a half years old, Stephen had strove to catch up. My small victory hadn't lasted a week, so I hardly counted it anymore. Then there was the issue with my father and his views on my career choice. I sighed and looked down.
I'd drawn both Stephen in his doctor's outfit, smiling at me warmly in a rare display of utter affection, and Sam with his own amazing smile, but he was holding his pistol. Frowning, I erased the arms and redrew them to appear open and welcoming, hoping for a hug. That seemed to fit Sam better.
This was something I could do easily. I have always been able to just...tell what people are feeling, even if they appear fine. No matter what, I can tell what people are feeling. Call it intuition, call it whatever, it's just how I was made. It's who I am. Sighing again, I stopped the music and got myself a cup of chamomile tea. It helped calm my nerves and thus I was able to get a bit of sleep.
=#=#=#=#=
"Why didn't you tell me your brother was the Stephen Strange?!" Sam asked, mock-offended as we enjoyed lunch. It was the same one we'd been in when the alien invasion happened. By pure coincidence, we arrived at this restaurant together and had started chatting. "He operated on a buddy of mine a little while back!" I took a sip of my Sprite before answering. This was always the hardest part for people to understand.
"...Well, living under someone like Stephen's shadow...it's refreshing to step out of it every now and again. I just knew I needed to get those blasted glass bits out, so..." I shrugged. Sam nodded with the good grace to look sheepish and...sympathetic. Huh. Interesting.
"I suppose. I guess I didn't think of it like that..." I blink. No one's ever apologized for assuming having a famous brother is all fun and games. It was...nice. I found myself fighting off a blush. It's just his personality. No need to go crazy over it. Or blush. Get a grip, girl...
"That's okay." I reply, with another shrug and bite of grilled chicken sandwich. We eat in a fairly comfortable silence for a little while before it's broken.
"...Can I get your number so we don't continue this restaurant roulette we've got going on?" Sam asks abruptly. I stiffen slightly. It hadn't been two days since I met Sam, and already I was giving him my number? I can hear the lecture now...
How can you be sure he won't hurt you? How do you know he's not after that one thing? Do you really know him at all? I don't want to see you hurt, is all. I love you. You know that, don't you?
Regardless, I decide to nod and give him my number using his phone and entering it into a new contact. he texted me a simple 'Hey!' and I added his number into my contacts before I could stop to think. Regardless of Steve's reaction, it was worth it. I didn't have many friends.
Sam would be one. I would make sure.