And here we are! I don't own anything of the MCU or any of the other fandoms I might 'borrow' to create the insanity that has become the Nightingale-verse (not like I regret it or anything, just so we're clear). I'm not doing this for profit, other than your kudos and comments, which, of course, are always welcome.
This is the fourth and final part of this, the third phase of the Nightingale series. It consists of three chapters, the first two written in first person, each by a different character, while the last one is in third person.
I'm taking a lot of liberties here, not just by giving some characters more of a backstory that they thus far have in the MCU, but also in the creation of the 'mythos' serving as background to this series. I know it might be hard to keep up with everything I'm mixing up, but I do hope you'll give it (and me) a chance, I promise this is as crazy as things are bound to get (if you can deal with this you can deal with anything I throw at you, honest!).
From the very moment I learned about Doctor Strange I knew I wanted him to be in this series, I also had an idea of just how I wanted him in, but had to wait to watch the movie before I was actually sure if it could be done (I could have rewritten his story, of course, but I liked the movie a lot, and in the end it did fit my ideas, so...).
You'll see a number of new Original Characters here, most are secondary, but one is particularly important (not a main character exactly, but still). I also think I must remind you that, whatever might be shown in the future in the MCU, my version of Hela Lokidottir will probably be nothing like that; and not only because mine is played by Katie McGrath...
On the topic of my dreamcast. Since some people seem to actually like knowing who I picture as certain characters, these are the new ones: Donna Strange (I borrowed her from the comics, actually) is played by Ashley Greene (some might remember her for playing Alice Cullen in the Twilight Saga, just picture her with her original long hair rather than Alice's pixie cut); Sachiko Nishimura is played by Sophie Oda, Master Turner by Daniel Day-Lewis, Tamara Walker by Jane Seymour and Maureen Pangborn by Eva Mendes.
Ethereal Gift
(Companion to Fate and Destiny and Bouquet of Roses)
By: Lalaith Quetzalli
Gifts, especially those immaterial, can be tricky. Seen by some as curses, and by others as blessings; they're none of that. In the end a Gift is nothing more, nothing less than what its bearer makes of it. It can be a terrible burden, and the most incredible of rewards. It can dwell in darkness or shine brightly in the light.
The Curse of the Crown (Stephen)
Magic always comes with a price, sometimes higher than others...
I was born Stephen Vincent Strange in July of 1977, to Beverly and Eugene Strange, grew up in a small family farm close to Norfolk, Nebraska.
From a young age I was a genius, and I knew it. I discovered my eidetic memory when I was still in elementary school. I didn't know what it was at first, or that there was even a name for it. All I knew was that whatever the professor was teaching I learned perfectly the first time they said it, which meant that I spent the rest of the class (and sometimes even more than that) extremely bored as they kept repeating the same thing over and over again. And reviews the days before exams were even worse!
I had some trouble at school, when boredom pushed me into doing some... less than stellar things, and I know I put my parents through a great deal of grief because of that. Eventually it was my mother who found a way to deal with me. She began buying me puzzles, workbooks full of riddles and anything else she could find. That kept me entertained for the most part. Especially because mom would always smile at me, so full of love and pride, whenever I finished one of those books. Especially when she began buying me the kind that were supposed to be for older kids and adults. I loved making her smile!
And then she became sick. Cancer, the doctors didn't catch it on time. She died a week after I graduated from High-School, when I was sixteen. Her loss hit me hard and I lost myself for a while. College was boring, I kept changing my mind on what I wanted my major to be. My dad tried to buy me puzzles, but it simply wasn't the same, he'd never understood me, not like mom did and... and I think a part of me believed he should have realized mom was sick earlier. It got the point where I convinced myself I'd have seen it...
I was seventeen when I went into pre-med. Wasn't sure if that was really what I wanted, but it was the only thing that had held my interest for more than a couple of months. Even then, nothing could ever heal the rift with my father.
The other member of my family was my little sister: Donna. She was my favorite person in the world. She wasn't a genius like I was, but that didn't matter at all to me, because she was a genius in her own way. She also loved me, didn't care that I was so different from most kids my age, she even once punched a neighbor in the nose when he called me a nerd and a loser (not that I cared much for the insult, but I loved her for doing it nonetheless). Donna was six years younger than me, a huge age difference for some, still, I didn't care.
She was ten years old when mom died, and while she had dad (at the two of them got along well) I still did my best to be there for her. To make sure she knew she was loved; that we loved her, and so had mom. We'd sit together on the floor, playing with some of my old puzzles, those were the only times I ever re-did any, and while there was nothing challenging in them for myself, I loved seeing the light in her eyes, her focus, and her blinding smile whenever she managed to finish them. Her delight at her achievements.
I was almost twenty-one and close to finishing my first year in medical school when Donna fell sick. At first it didn't seem like anything more than a serious migraine, but it went from there. The pain never went away, and then came the fever, nausea, sensitivity to light, the confusion... the doctors kept changing her diagnosis, and no one had the slightest idea what she had. I was in California at the time, took the first plane to Nebraska the moment I heard what had happened. I was the one to connect all of Donna's symptoms to encephalitis.
Thankfully the doctors realized I was right in time to help her. It took a while, but she fully recovered. I stayed with her until she was back home, then returned to San Francisco.
Three years later I was ready to begin my specialty. The best part: I had been admitted into Harvard. I was going to become a neurosurgeon! I was happy, really. While I still learned fast, it was no longer a bad thing. Most of the professors didn't care how much attention I paid to them in class as long as I did all my work and passed all the tests, and that was perfect.
That was the same year that Donna graduated High-School. She was eighteen, and had already informed us that she'd be studying medicine too. She had this dream, about the two of us working together one day. I liked it. I'd promised to take her somewhere the day after her graduation to celebrate. I wasn't expecting it when I got a call from Harvard, asking me to go in for some kind of interview on the same day. Of course Donna told me to go, insisted that we'd have all summer for me to take her to celebrate. She'd go with her best friends to the mall instead... I promised to make it up to her...
I never got to do that. Just like she never made it to the mall, nor did Melissa, her friend. They were hit by a drunk-driver. Melissa, who'd been driving, died instantly, Donna died hours later, on the table, while doctors tried to save her life but they failed, she'd hit her head and blood vessels had burst, there was nothing they could do. I couldn't help but think that I'd have been able to do something, if I'd just been there. I was supposed to be there that day!
I failed Donna. I failed my little sister, the one person who believed in me the most, the only one who truly loved me since mom had died. I failed her... I promised myself, in her memory, that I'd never fail again. Never.
So I went to Harvard, I became a Neurosurgeon. My father died a year before I graduated, when I was twenty-nine, but by then the rift between us was so deep... I didn't even find it in myself to cry about it. I'd used up all my tears upon Donna's death.
By the time I got my medical degree I already had something of a reputation. Before the end of the summer of 2007 I was working at Metro-General in New York. I used the money from my father's life insurance to buy a luxurious flat just a few blocks away from the hospital. I even considered selling the farm, but in the end I didn't. That place carried so many memories, from both Donna and my mom... I didn't dare get rid of it.
It was in Metro-General that I met Dr. Christine Palmer. She reminded me of Donna, though she was actually three or four years older than my sister would have been. Even then, her eyes, the look in them whenever she focused, her smile whenever she saved a life... They were all things that reminded me strongly of Donna.
It was probably why I always helped her. Whether it was by supporting her ideas, giving her a second opinion when she asked for one, or anything else she might need from me. Even when her patients weren't the kind I usually took (she worked in the ER, after all), I never once refused her, just like I'd have never refused my sister.
Of course I wasn't seeing her as a sister when we slept together. It would be hard to tell how that started, in fact. I was well-known for being something of a casanova. And most girls did not mind, they knew what they were getting into. I was a doctor, a neurosurgeon, I had no time (or interest) in a relationship. And I didn't see any problem with sleeping with a beautiful woman (or many) if we both agreed it was what we wanted. Just sex, no strings attached.
Christine... that wasn't a string, it was a web of them, because I valued her, as a colleague and as a friend to simply ignore her afterwards. I even gave the whole relationship-thing a try, just for her, because she wanted to. It was until afterwards that I remembered how awful I was at being in a relationship. I had always been, even back in college. I wasn't romantic at all, and few things could keep my attention for long (which happened to include whatever woman I might be with). I could still remember one particular girl who'd actually slapped me and cried a river in front of me after I'd left her bed (and her apartment) after we had sex. Apparently she'd been expecting me to stay the night, and for breakfast and... just no.
Still, for Christine, I tried. And once it was all over I couldn't help but wonder if maybe that had been the mistake. Perhaps if we'd just stopped, if I'd stayed true to who I was, then I wouldn't have hurt her so badly. Then again, if I had we would have never been so close, she probably wouldn't have been there when I'd needed someone the most... and I honestly have no idea what would have become of me then.
Through my life more than a few negative terms have been used to describe me. Words like proud, arrogant, selfish, asshole... being pretty much the least of them. No one understood, no one even tried to see; the fact that it was never about the pride of the arrogance, but rather a deep seated fear of failure. I'd failed once, and it'd cost Donna her life, and I'd promised on my sister's memory to never fail again. The selfishness... they were probably right about that, but I'd already lost everyone I cared for once, it was easier to keep from that kind of pain if I didn't have anyone. Also, as long as people didn't expect me to be a good man, I didn't risk disappointing them, or having them disappoint me; as far as I was concerned the lack of expectations could only make things easier on everyone. And the last one... well, it was simply a consequence of all the other ones already mentioned.
It was also why I refused so many cases. I said they weren't interesting enough... but it was more that I didn't dare take cases that could become personal in any way, I refused to allow myself to connect in any way. I also refused cases that seemed too hard, not because I think they didn't deserve to have someone do it, but my fear of failure was simply too great. Truth is I let that fear rule my life for a very long time...
Then there was something else, something I'd never told anyone, something I barely even thought about myself: I was missing something. A piece of me... Ridiculous as it might sound, I'd always felt that way, since I was very young. Like I was a puzzle myself, only I was missing a piece, and I hated that. Mom and Donna, they helped me forget it sometimes, their smiles, their love, they helped me feel enough at peace that I'd ignore that hole inside me. Christine... she tried, but truth is she never managed it. It wasn't her fault, of course, the hole was in me, not her, but since I refused to really acknowledge that emptiness... it was easier to push her away.
My fear of failure went so far I chose to treat her poorly, to push her into leaving me, rather than breaking things off myself. Like that made things any better. Like her being the one to do it somehow made the break-up her fault, rather than mine... her failure. But no, the fault was always mine, as was the failure.
Still, those were all truths that I didn't dare see, didn't allow myself to see, for the longest time. Not until a terrible car accident (once again caused by my own fault) caused me to lose my hands (and in many ways, myself as well).
It was until I found myself sitting on a chair in the middle of my mostly empty flat (I'd sold all I could to finance all kind of experimental surgeries in an attempt to recover the use of my hands) my last wrist-watch and a cherry-wood jewelry box in front of me; that I realized how far I'd fallen. The two things before me, the only things I hadn't yet sold, and had no intention of doing so. They weren't particularly valuable, or at least they wouldn't be to whoever I might want to sell them to, but for me... The first was an engraved watch, a gift from Christine on the one and only birthday (mine) we got to celebrate together; the other was a jewelry box, it was also a puzzle box, I'd had it made while in San Francisco, a gift for Donna's graduation, never got to give it to her. They were the only mementos I still had of the three women I'd truly cared for in my whole life (the puzzle box wasn't representative only of my sister, but also of our mother, as she was the one who'd gotten me into puzzles).
Just earlier that morning I'd finally managed to push Christine away for what would probably be the last time, right after a once-friend and colleague had refused to take me on as a patient, to try an experimental procedure that might have eliminated (or at the very least lessened) the shaking in my hands. It was... disheartening, to suddenly find myself on the other side from where I'd always been; being the one rejected by a doctor who didn't want to risk ruining his 'record'; made me wonder if that was how all the people I'd once turned away had felt... Perhaps I deserved it. After everything I'd done (and not done), perhaps I was finally getting my due.
Still, I'm not the kind of man to give up, to lay down and let life pass me by (or over). With Pangborn, and especially when he told me what exactly he'd done, and where I had to go... I knew I was grasping at straws, but there really was nothing else I could think of doing. I was at the end of my rope. So I sold the flat, packed a bag with the few belongings I'd left, and used all the money I'd left to buy a plane ticket to Kathmandu.
Kamar-Taj was... intense in a way few things can be; in a way I couldn't explain, couldn't even fully comprehend when I first arrived. Once I got past its initial image, past how different it was from what I'd been expecting; it was then that I realized how little I knew, understood, about the world. Granted, I wasn't exactly having a good day, I'd gotten mugged, the watch was broken and the puzzle box had been damaged (and while I might be an expert at solving them, I couldn't build them... or fix them, not before my accident, and certainly not afterwards).
The first few days were hard. I had no idea how I was supposed to do anything, my shaking hands seemed to me like an insurmountable obstacle. Really, it had taken me eight months and seven surgeries (besides the different drugs and rehabilitation techniques) to even get to the point I was in that moment; I had no idea how I was supposed to achieve what I saw the sorcerers around me doing. It took me a month before I could get more than a handful of sparks when I tried to focus. Then again, perhaps having my life depend on it was the kind of motivation I needed to get moving.
The Ancient One... I once described her as complicated, and that was a pretty fit description, though even I could have never imagined just how complicated she was exactly. Then again, at the time I said that I had no idea just how many years she'd lived, or who she'd once been, before becoming a Sorceress, and the Ancient One. When we lost her (when I lost her), I didn't see it coming. I may only have known her for four months, and she may not have liked me much at first (at times it seemed like she didn't quite like me even afterwards... perhaps it was because of how much I reminded her of a certain former student of hers... or perhaps it was herself I reminded her of... I will never know). But even though we hadn't known each other for long, even though in the end she never gave me what I sought to get from her, her loss still hit me hard. She was the first person since my mother and sister who believed that I could be more than I was, who believed that I could be a good man, not just a great one. "It's not about you..." That's what she said to me, her last lesson to me, and it's one I took to heart. It's not about me, not about my achievements, or my failures. It was those words that finally pushed me into doing the very thing I'd been terrified of for almost half my life: I allowed myself to care again.
Wong... he was easier to understand, at least to a point. A stoic, loyal-to-a-fault, clever, brave man with an almost hilarious interest in modern music (not sure if that one was my fault or not). He was unsure of me, and rightly so, since apparently my attitude reminded everyone of a former member of the order, who'd gone dark (and who'd go on to becoming enemy to us all): Kaecilius. Still, he was willing to give me a chance, to see the good along with the bad, and he worried about me, about all of us (even if he had some odd ways of showing it, sometimes). At times I wonder what he thought when he saw me in Hong Kong, that day... I wonder if he remembers dying, the way I do... a question I shall never ask.
There were of course other sorcerers, though I didn't really make friends with hardly any of them. I was too focused on my studies, still believing back then that if I became good enough I'd be able to heal my hands, to return to my old life... It's almost funny, how long I spent holding onto that idea, that dream. Like my life as Dr. Strange was some book I'd been forced to put down one day, one I'd pick back up when I was ready. I held onto that, like I held onto a broken watch and a ruined puzzle box, to a dozen e-mails that were never answered, and even more that were never even sent (or written at all). It didn't occur to me until much, much later, that perhaps holding onto the past so tenaciously was my first mistake (or at least the first mistake in my new life).
The Cloak of Levitation was a character in and of itself (herself? himself?). Odd as it is to be thinking of it as if it were a person, I know it's not like any other normal cloak, and not only because its a relic and it allows me to fly, it has a consciousness of its own. It saved my life, more than once, either moving me away, shielding me, going against my enemies when I cannot do it myself... it has even died with me (for me?).
I've wondered at times, how the Cloak... Levi, I've been calling her Levi in my head for a while now (seemed better than thinking Cloak of Levitation all the time); I've wondered how she ever came to be. The Ancient One said it was fickle, but I don't think that's it. The first time she wrapped herself around me I got a sense of... fulfillment? Almost relief actually, happiness? It makes me wonder when she was last used; or no, not used, when she last had a partner. Someone who valued her. Kaecilius didn't seem to think much of her even as he saw me with her, like she wasn't anything extraordinary... but he's wrong, so very wrong.
It feels odd, thinking of an object as a partner, but she's not just a piece of fabric, Levi's so much more. She's... almost like a big sister, or what I think a big sister, or perhaps an aunt would have been like (not like I've ever had either, but still). She's protective, and caring, and fussy. She saw something in me, when I was so convinced I wanted nothing more than to turn my back on the whole magic-thing, to find my way back to my old life. She saw something in me, she trusted me, saved my life... I know she did not agree with my plan when it came to dealing with Dormammu (not like we ever discussed it, but still), yet she stayed with me. She went through all of that, all those deaths with me... how could I not care for her too?
There's also the fact that it was Levi who lead me to the Gloves. They were another relic, unlike Levi they had no conscience of their own, but there was power in them. They were resistant to all but the darkest of magics, helped direct magic better... they also helped neutralize the shaking in my hands. As long as I wore them they were alright.
Then there was Mordo... Karl Mordo. It's amazing (in a terrible, almost depressing kind of way) to think of how things ended on that front, and compare it to how they began. I still remember (I will always remember) that he was the one who found me, that day in Kathmandu, as I wandered through the streets, a stranger in a strange country (pun intended); I had no idea what I was looking for, or how I was supposed to find it. It was Mordo who found me, after my mugging, he saved me from a beating and even got my wrist-watch back. He was the one to take me to Kamar-Taj, even tried to help me accept how different the place was from what I'd imagined in my own head (didn't stop me from being an idiot, but he still tried...).
He was the one who found me, and he was the first one to believe in me, when no one else did. I know. I know that when the Ancient One threw me out, he was the one to speak on my behalf, he's the one that convinced her to give me a chance. He kept pushing me to do better, when everyone else was focused on their own training. He trained with me, trained me, when no one else would help me. He was there for me, as a mentor, as a friend...
I wonder if he realizes how important he was to me (how important he still is). One day he told me to fight like my life depended on it, I didn't understand it then, not until later. And yet in the end my focus wasn't on that, not really, in the end my focus wasn't on the fact that my life might depend on it, but all the other lives that did...
I still remember that day, in the New York Sanctum. After I killed that zealot... the argument we had. He didn't understand my point of view, as a doctor, my vow of doing no harm; and I didn't understand his own point of view either, warrior that he was. He thought I was making things difficult just because, not wanting to kill others, even when they wanted to kill me. And yet... and yet when the attack came, when he went to fight, I went with him. Where he lead I followed, without a doubt. I wonder if he realizes that, if he understands what it means. I know I didn't at first, the fact that there was no hesitation on my part. I was so willing to follow him. I followed him that day... I would probably still follow him, if he only asked.
When the Ancient One suggested that I should become a Master, the master of the NY Sanctum... I could see his shock (and perhaps jealousy?). My refusal probably didn't help matters any. He believed so much in her... so absolutely, the Ancient One was almost his god... and perhaps that was the problem (and my revealing her secret probably didn't help matters any). When the post of Master was offered to me, all I could think was that it was insane, eventually I only took it out of respect for her, for her memory... There's one question I wish I'd asked her, before she died. Why me? Why me when Mordo deserved that post, that honor, so much more? Perhaps... a part of me wonders if I already know the answer; the idea that he might have been meant for a higher one, that she might have meant him to be her successor. It might be just wishful thinking, but I cannot help but think that he would have deserved it, I certainly would have followed him, just like I did that day (I still would).
The Ancient One told me that I needed Mordo's strength, and he my flexibility. She meant for us to work together, and I don't think she meant it only in the fight against Kaecilius. A partnership that would have helped protect our world... I like to believe it would have worked, if only Mordo had given it a chance, given me a chance... I wonder, if I had told him how many times I died during that time loop, before Dormammu finally agreed to my bargain, would he have seen that as enough of a price to pay for breaking the laws of nature? Would he have stayed then? It's one of the many things I wonder, and the one I'm most afraid of ever asking...
xXx
"Dormammu, I've come to bargain!"
I woke up drenched in sweat, hands fisted at my sides even as they kept shaking, heart beating a mile a minute and my breaths coming in pants as I tried and failed to calm down; my own voice, pronouncing those same words still rang in my ears... I would never be able to forget those five words, nor what had followed.
413... That's the number of times I looped in time, the number of times I said those words... the number of times I died.
I have perfect memory, which meant of course I remember every single detail about each of those deaths. No one knew about it, though. With the London Sanctum in ruins, and the loss of the Supreme Sorcerer... the priority had been to make sure Earth would be protected. Even with Dormammu staying away, that was no guarantee there wouldn't be some other enemy coming after our planet. So I moved into the NY Sanctum, took my post as the new Master (though I still consider myself Doctor Strange, rather than Master Strange... perhaps a bit pointless in the grand scheme of things, but the Order just followed my wishes). I focused then on putting the place in order, and staying vigilant. Others worked on restoring the London Sanctum and a new Master had been found. Wong was in charge of Kamar-Taj for the time being.
So, all in all, there had been no time to talk about what had happened exactly, how I'd gotten Dormammu to stay away, and to take Kaecilius and his zealots with it. No one knew about the 'bargain', the deaths, or the nightmares that followed... Perfectly understandable considering that, since I'd been in a loop of time, no one knew that more than a second had passed at all. Wong had said we'd be talking about it, reports had to be redacted and added to the archives, but first the safety of the world needed to be ensured.
So Wong and the rest of the Order were working on securing the other Sanctums and Kamar-Taj, while I did my best to keep things in NY alright (and dealt with my nightmares... mostly through denials and long periods of time during which I chose to do things in the astral plane, hoping that my body sleeping would somehow be enough).
I spent three months like that, and by then I was already at the end of my rope.
I'd dropped by Metro-General Hospital a number of times, never precisely to see Christine... though I'd have liked the chance to at least say hello. I never saw her more than in passing, which was remarkable considering that most of the time she was the one treating the people I was there to see, those from my order. Not many sorcerers had chosen to stay in NY after I was made Master of the Sanctum, which was understandable, all things considered (starting with the recent attack and the death of the previous Master, and ending with the fact that I hadn't even been a Sorcerer for a full year... also, I was somewhat quirky, I knew that, and not everyone was ready or willing to deal with me).
Even though there were few people in the Sanctum, accidents were still known to happen, most of them during training, and sometimes serious enough to require a visit to the ER. Healing was a very particular branch of magic, one very few people had the aptitude for; it was also a slippery slope, where it came to the laws of nature. Mostly because the only way to heal with the mystic arts was by basically accelerating the body's natural healing; however, doing so meant pushing cells into multiplying faster than they usually did, something that also accelerated aging... which effectively meant that healing also made the person age. (I hadn't understood how Pangborn fit in all that, until I realized that he never healed himself, not really, what he did was channel magic in such a way that it allowed him to bypass his injury... he effectively used magic to compensate where his injury had severed muscles and nerves). It was why I couldn't really heal my hands, why it had never been an option.
In any case, since I was the Master of the NY Sanctum, I would go personally to make sure my people were alright, make arrangements for their return home once they were ready. I knew Christine was the one who treated most of them. She recognized them by their clothing and knew not to ask too many questions, she also always managed to cover for them, so no one else would know what they'd been doing exactly when they got injured (I didn't want to imagine the kind of trouble we all would be in, if she didn't do that). And yet, we still kept somehow missing each other every time I was in the hospital (How strong my denial must have been that I didn't realize what that must mean for the longest time...).
And then I saw her at a little Deli a few blocks from the Sanctum (not far from Metro-General), I liked the place, they had the best filled croissants in all of New York, and some very good tea as well. I'd just been by the hospital and one of the sorcerers was taking his apprentice (the latest one to get injured) back to the Sanctum, I'd decided to treat myself to some lunch. She was there, drinking her favorite latte and reading a magazine. I decided to approach her, just to say hello. There was a lot of people, and I had trouble getting to her (on the other side of the place); she raised her head at one point, and I thought she'd seen me... by the time I got there, though, she was gone. I would have believed it all to be nothing more than an accident too, if I hadn't noticed her nervous expression as she left the Deli, or the way she looked straight at me as she left... She had known I was there, she'd chosen to leave rather than speak to me.
It was then that I finally decided to accept what a part of me had known all along (yet most of me had been too stubborn to give up) Christine didn't want me anymore. I was a fool for believing there was a chance we would make things work. I still remembered the last time we'd met, touched... that day in the prep-room, after the Ancient One died:
I held her face in my hands, relishing in the touch, her warmth, thinking of how much I'd missed it, had missed her... My accident had taken so much from me: my hands, my job, my reputation, most of my money, what I believed was my place in the world. Yet somehow she was still there...
"You said that losing my hands didn't have to be the end, that it could be a beginning." I couldn't help but remind her in a whisper.
"Yeah." She agreed with me. "Because there are other ways to save lives."
"A harder way." I offered.
"A weirder way." She retorted, making me chuckle.
We were interrupted then, by someone paging her from the ER. I knew then that if I didn't say what was in my heart I might never get another chance (not the least because there was a not inconsiderable chance that I would die in the following hours), so I just came out and said it:
"I don't want to let you go."
She pressed a hand to my jaw, and I turned into her touch, and then she kissed me, a single kiss, on the cheek, before leaving.
Back then I'd wanted to believe that kiss was a sign of hope, that there was still a chance for me, for us... after what happened in the Deli I was forced to accept the truth a part of me had known all along: that kiss had been a goodbye.
That night I took off the wristwatch and placed it inside one of my drawers, where it and the inscription in the back wouldn't be tempting me again. It was time to move on.
xXx
"Dormammu, I've come to bargain!"
Yet again I woke sweating, panting, shaking. Yet, as I forced myself to relax (with no little help from Levi, who did her best to embrace me, offer me as much comfort as she could), I couldn't help but notice something else. An image I'd noticed in my dream, a tall figure wearing a dark turquoise-green velvet cloak. She (I thought it was a she) had been in my dream, though she most certainly hadn't been there in reality. Seemingly standing in a corner (of the Dark Dimension? The dream? My consciousness?). I couldn't see her face, hidden beneath the hood of her cloak as it was, though it seemed that she was looking straight at me. I had no idea who she might be, if she was even real at all.
Wong dropped by the NY Sanctum that morning. I wasn't expecting him.
"You haven't been sleeping Strange." He said, accusingly, straight out.
"Hello to you too Wong, how have you been?" I drawled. "Me, I'm just fi..."
"You're not fine, not at all." He cut me off, before repeating: "You're not sleeping."
"Has someone been tattling on me again?" I couldn't help but ask with a roll of my eyes. "Then again, I thought you were usually the one doing the tattling, rather than the other way around."
"Deflecting will not make this go away Strange." He pressed. "Nor will using astral projection. Your mind needs rest too, not just your body."
I let out a breath, I'd known it was coming, I just didn't know if I was ready for that conversation (wasn't sure I'd ever be). Not that I think he was giving me the option.
I was right of course. An hour later I found myself sitting in what had become my office with him, Master Turner (the Order's Scribe) as well as Tamara Walker (one of the most experienced sorcerers in NY) and her apprentice (when one of the students proved to be particularly talented, one of the more experienced sorcerers might take them in for further training... like Mordo once did with me), young Sachiko Nishimura (who I eventually learned was the one to 'rat me out') acting as witnesses to the official report.
The first part was actually somewhat easy. We'd decided to start with the attack on the London Sanctum, the way its destruction had echoed in Kamar-Taj, blowing me through the gateway into the NY Sanctum; explaining how I'd been there for Kaecilius attack there. I'd witnessed Master Drumm's death and then been forced to fight for my life as Kaecilius and his zealots went after me. It was I also who realized they could bend reality outside of the Mirror Dimension...
Then came the explanation after the fight, sending the zealots elsewhere through the gateways and Levi's intervention. Sachiko actually giggled at my name for the Cloak of Levitation... while Master Walker didn't seem to understand why I treated the Cloak as I did, until Levi made a somewhat rude gesture in her direction, before tickling Sachiko some to elicit even more giggles.
"The Ancient One said it was a fickle thing." Wong commented with a shrug.
"I don't think it's that at all." I couldn't help but say, as I ran a hand on Levi's edge, prompting her to return to my shoulders. "She just likes feeling appreciated, that she matters, as more than just a piece of fabric."
"But she... It is a piece of fabric!" Walker insisted.
"If you're a sorcerer and cannot see what's wrong with your statement I don't know how to help you." I stated, perhaps with more bite than entirely necessary, which was confirmed as Levi pressed on me comfortingly. "Levi has a consciousness of her own. She came to me when I was attacked, saved my life from Kaecilius and his zealot, it was also her idea to use the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak to restrain him. Something that worked well enough for a while. I wouldn't have survived if it weren't for her. She..." I had to take a deep breath before adding. "She also followed me into the Dark Dimension when I went to confront Dormammu..."
"You confronted Dormammu directly!" Sachiko practically eeped at that.
"We'll get to that." Wong stated, taking back control of the meeting.
And so we went back to the narration. My visit to the hospital, Christine's assistance, the astral fight with the zealot, then the return to the NY Sanctum. I carefully left my discovery about the origins of the Ancient One's long life out of it, something only Wong noticed. The last thing we needed was other members of the Order leaving because of what our former leader had done; especially because I couldn't help but think I was missing something in all that.
I did mention my argument with Mordo, regarding my choice not to kill, it was not a secret that whenever I trained, I always created whips, shields and sometimes staves, but never any weapon that might kill... I had also become more adept at using the Crimson Bands, while the relic wasn't quite mine, I could still use it just fine (I had also been working on creating a spell that might be able to replicate them, or at least create a similar effect).
"How do you intend to protect this Sanctum if you refuse to kill your enemies?" Master Turner asked, thankfully sounding more curious than judging.
"There are more ways to save lives, than just killing off those who oppose us." I said evenly. "I gave up my old life as a doctor, and any hope for it, to be who I am right now, doesn't mean I've forsaken the oaths I took when I became a doctor. I will try my best to do no harm, my priority will always be to save lives." I raised a hand to stop any interruptions. "I know I cannot possibly save everyone, and that I might have to kill at one point; and if it's necessary to save those under my care you can be assured I will do it. But that will never be my first option, never anything but the very last, in fact."
"You've chosen a hard path to walk, Master Strange." Turner murmured, and for the first time I heard honest respect in his voice. "A hard one indeed."
"I know." I nodded. He had no idea... but he would, and sooner than I might prefer.
So we went back to the story. The duel in the Mirror Dimension (trying my best to keep from saying anything that might give away the Ancient One's connection to the Dark Dimension), a fight that had ended with her death.
No one questioned Christine's second intervention (just like they hadn't questioned the first), everyone in NY by then knew about Christine Palmer, the fact that she was a good doctor, knew the very basics about the Order, and never asked questions when helping us. They'd all agreed it was good to have such a worthy ally (no mention was ever made about our old connection, as far as they all were concerned we were nothing more than old friends).
And then finally (finally!) we got to the moment when Mordo and I arrived to Hong Kong...
"You were wearing the Eye of Agamotto?!" Walker seemed to be honestly shocked by that.
"Yes." I nodded evenly. "I had it around my neck, had been experimenting a bit with it after reading the Book of Cagliostro. It was still around my neck when the explosion happened and I landed here, in this Sanctum. All through the attack, the duel in the Mirror Dimension, and eventually the battle in Hong Kong."
Which was less of a battle than most might expect (or it had been once I turned back time).
I couldn't help but notice the way they were all looking at me, it was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable.
"What?!" I finally snapped.
"He has no idea, does he?" Turner asked, looking at Wong, instead of at me.
"No idea about what?" I demanded, I really hated being talked about like I wasn't in the room.
"The Eye of Agamotto... some call it a relic, though it's a lot more." Turner explained, taking the tone of someone giving a lecture.
"I know about the Stone." I cut him off, somewhat petulantly.
"Yes, the Stone." He nodded, and I knew, I just knew I was missing something. "Do you want to hazard a guess who was the last person to be able to wield the Eye?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I hadn't the slightest idea, but wasn't about to admit that.
"The Infinity Stones, they are the rarest objects in the universe, the most powerful too, as well as near-impossible to wield." Turner explained in a surprisingly patient tone. "It is said that in their pure state, without a container of some kind... like the Eye in this case, they will destroy whoever touches them." He shook his head, before finally declaring: "I only know of two people to have been able to wield the Eye of Agamotto."
"What... two people in the last decade?" I asked, though I had a feeling that wasn't it. "Century?"
"Two people in known history." He corrected me. "To be precise, according to records, the only sorcerer recorded to have been able to wield the Eye of Agamotto, before you, and after the creator of the relic himself, did so back in the first half of the 6th century. His name was Myrddin Willt, also known as Myrddin Emrys..."
Sachiko eeped again, but I ignored her.
"Are you pulling my leg?!" I blurted out in absolute shock. "You cannot be telling me that aside from myself and Agamotto the only person to have wielded the Eye is Merlin!" I broke off, as something else occurred to me. "Wait a second? Merlin is real?!"
"Of course he is." Turner actually rolled his eyes at me. "He was never directly a part of our Order, refused to be, choosing instead to aid his homeland, and a certain young royal I'm sure you've heard of..."
I felt like my head was about to fall off. First magic, and evil, and monsters, and now to learn that one of the oldest legends, myths... whatever of British Literature was actually real...
"Of course things didn't happen exactly as it's been told." Turner went on. "A lot has been lost through time. Especially with the stories a few added later on, full of scandal and dishonor..." He cut himself off. "If you're curious, there are a few books in the library that may be of interest to you, especially if the Eye has chosen you..."
I couldn't quite wrap my head around that one. If the Eye had chosen me... I was having enough of a hard time with the fact that Levi had chosen me, and to then be told that another object, one of untold power that hadn't been used by anyone since the Wizard Merlin...! I definitely couldn't process that.
"You know, I think the Cloak of Levitation actually hails from the same time." Walker said, somewhat offhandedly, right then. "Created by someone from outside our order. It is said it was brought to us as a memento, by one of our Sorcerer Supreme."
I blinked, something nudging at the back of my head but I couldn't quite place it, so in the end I chose to push it aside.
"Yes well, I believe we still have a matter of a report to finish." Wong decided it was time to get the meeting back into order, thankfully (or not, considering the next part I needed to talk about).
I was just about to explain that part, when Sachiko spoke up unexpectedly:
"You twisted time, didn't you?" She inquired softly, it wasn't an accusation, there was so much awe in her voice, I could hardly believe it.
"What makes you believe that?" I asked, wondering how she'd known that.
"No casualties." She explained with a small shrug. "I've gone through the reports from Hong Kong. Not a single one. And yet... after what happened in London, and even here, that didn't seem quite possible. Unless time was changed."
I couldn't help but smile, that girl really was a genius...
"Indeed." I agreed.
I told them then. About arriving to Hong Kong with Mordo, only to find the battle was over already, the Sanctum had fallen and Dormammu was entering our world. Using the Eye had been more of an instinct than a conscious decision. And yet... even that hadn't been enough. I had just mentioned flying into the spot where the Dark Dimension had begun to meld with ours, when I found myself interrupted again:
"You fought Dormammu and won?!" Sachiko exclaimed, shocked.
"No." I hated breaking her hopes, but she needed to understand the truth. "I didn't fight him, and I certainly didn't win. I made a bargain."
I told them as stoically and succinctly as I could the basics of my plan: the fact that I'd known I stood no chance in direct combat, the time loop, and the terms of the actual bargain... Sachiko's eyes widened in horror, even as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, Turner and Walker just looked at me quietly, it was Wong who spoke:
"How many times?" He asked me simply.
I didn't bother pretending I didn't know what he was talking about.
"413." I said simply.
I didn't tell him that the first two hundred had been quick, some so fast I'd hardly felt them at all. Then the next two hundred... that was when he'd been trying to break me, to make me break the loop if only to get away from him, it was when he got creative, killing me in as many different ways as he could think. The last thirteen though, those were the worst, because that was when he finally realized that nothing would make me break the loop, yet he wasn't yet ready to agree to my bargain, and so he took to killing me slowly, as slowly as he could, seeking to cause as much pain as possible before I died... once or twice I'd pushed myself a bit, just enough to have it end (or at least to grant me a reprieve, as small as it might be).
The look in Wong's face, though, told me that he could imagine at least some of it. Still, he was kind enough not to ask.
"That's why you can't sleep, isn't it?" Sachiko asked, very softly.
"Do you know what an eidetic memory is, Miss Nishimura?" I asked her kindly.
"Photographic memory." She answered instantly, then her eyes widened as she understood.
"I have it." I confirmed. "It's how I finished my MD and PhD and the same time. It's how I got so far in my studies of the Mystic Arts in such a short time. It's also why I remember every single time I died while in the Dark Dimension. While awake I can keep myself busy, while asleep... that's a different thing."
"So you'd rather not sleep." She finished for me.
"You knew what was going to happen." Walker commented evenly. "When you went to confront Dormammu. You knew he was too strong for you, it's why you made your plan, and you knew it wouldn't be easy for him to agree to it. You knew you would die..."
"Yes." I didn't see the point in lying.
"Why do it then?" She finally got to the point.
"Come on, 9 billion and some people, versus one?" I tried to drawl, didn't quite manage it.
"Strange..." Wong said simply, quietly.
I knew it was pointless to pretend with him.
"The Ancient One... she said something to me, right before she died." I admitted, very quietly. "She said, 'It's not about you'... Those were her exact words too. And she was right. For too many years, I made things about myself. My wishes, my aspirations, my accomplishments, my fears... my pain. She deserved more, she believed I could do, could be, more. Like you said, I could never hope to defeat Dormammu on my own... I believe even our whole Order could have never done that. So I cheated."
"You saved us all..." Sachiko breathed, awed.
"And you paid the price." Wong finished for her.
I was sure I wasn't the only one thinking about Mordo, his words that day... Would telling him the truth really have changed things that much? Would it have changed anything at all? I didn't know the answer to that question and was honestly afraid to find out.
xXx
Talking things out helped some. At least people knew the truth, and I was sure those who'd been present weren't the only ones looking at me with respect afterwards (there was no way Sachiko Nishimura kept things to herself, unless Walker ordered her to, and there was no reason to do that really). It did nothing for my nightmares though, I would still wake up way too early, gasping, panting, trembling and with the same words echoing in my head (sometimes even falling from my lips in a neverending mantra). I also thought I was beginning to remember other things: the moments between the end of one loop and the beginning of the next, the moments when I'd been, for all intents and purposes, dead. I remembered standing in the middle of nowhere, some kind of limbo, surrounded by nothing more than mist. Or almost nothing...
The most intriguing part, however, was that I also kept seeing the same woman, in every dream, most of the time standing in a corner (of the dream? Of reality? Of my freaking consciousness?) but other times she was closer. Those moments, between end and beginning, between death and life, she was there, right beside me, enveloped in her turquoise-green velvet cloak, seemingly keeping guard by my side...
Wong found me as I sat on the attic, by the huge window, holding a piece of paper in my hand. It had a drawing, a perfect drawing, one that I'd obviously not made by hand.
"And who might that be?" He asked, intrigued.
There were actually two images in the paper. The first was a full-body figure, there was nothing to tell for sure whether it was male or female, and it was covered in a floor-length cloak, opened just the slightest bit at the front, just enough to allow darker colored clothes to be seen, a dress most likely, and a face, almost completely obscured by the hood of her cloak. The second image was a close up, profile, showing head and shoulders (the face turned) the face was clearer there, feminine and with some aristocratic factions, light skin, bright eyes, full lips and a hint of what seemed like dark hair.
"I haven't the slightest idea." I admitted gruffly. "All I know is that she's been in my dreams, my nightmares, every night... and I know she wasn't there when it was happening."
At least not during the times I'd been alive. There was a lot I still did not understand about death, in general and my own specifically, to be in any way sure about that part.
"An old friend? Old lover perhaps?" Wong suggested.
I wanted to scoff, wanted to tell him I'd definitely remember if I'd ever slept with a woman that beautiful, and I would have! Also, I had an inkling that a woman such as her wouldn't have given the old-me the time of day... And yet, something in his words still rang true. I had no idea what any of it meant. It was driving me crazy!
"I suppose you'll have time to think it over later." Wong shrugged. "We just got a call from Dr. Palmer in Metro-General. A man was taken to the ER late last night. He just woke up, and he's asking for you."
"Who?" I didn't understand, no one in the Sanctum had gotten injured in the last week.
"Johnathan Pangborn." Wong's answer caused shivers down my back.
I had no idea what had happened exactly, why Pangborn was in the hospital, or why he was calling for me; still, an instinct told me it couldn't be anything good.
xXx
From all the things I might have been expecting as I walked to Metro-General, finding the man who'd helped saved me in many ways, who'd pointed me in the right direction to find my own salvation (even if not the kind I once thought I wanted) laying on a bed, paralyzed... again, wasn't one of them. It was one thing I could have never begun to imagine...
"What happened to you?!" I blurted out, too shocked to even try being kind.
Christine, standing in a corner of the room (I barely even noticed her) shot me a look.
"It's why I called you." He answered, seemingly not caring of my lack of tact. "A... common friend? Paid me a visit last night. He was spouting some nonsense about stolen power, and nature and whatever else. He claimed that he could finally see what was wrong with the world..."
"What?" I knew I wasn't going to like the answer, but I still had to ask.
"Too many sorcerers." Pangborn answered simply.
I almost cursed, almost. I did stand up abruptly, making a wild gesture with a hand.
"Strange?" Wong, who'd accompanied me asked.
The moment I turned to look at me my mind was already working a mile a minute. Considering all the possibilities, and what needed to be done.
"Wong." I said. "I need you to go back to the Sanctum, put everyone on alert. Tell them that no one is to go anywhere alone, they're all to stay in groups, the more numerous the better, and the youngest apprentices are to stay in close proximity to more experienced sorcerers at all times. Also, put the other Sanctums and Kamar-Taj under alert. We have a Sorcerer stealing powers, he will likely go after those on their own first."
"Those most vulnerable." Wong nodded in understanding. "What will you do?"
"I will stay here." I answered honestly. "Make sure Johnathan is alright. Also, make a few calls, in case we need to move him somewhere safer, same with the people at the Sanctum."
"You're planning something." Wong said, it wasn't a question.
"We both know who's doing this." I told him quietly. "He went after Johnathan because, in his mind, he violated the natural laws with his healing. He cannot stand that..."
"He will go after you next." Wong finished for me. "Then you need to be at the Sanctum."
"No!" I said instantly. "That's precisely the last place I must be. I won't even stay here, once I've made sure Johnathan will be alright."
"You're making yourself a target." Pangborn looked at me in disbelief. "Why?"
"Because he's coming after me anyway, and I rather he not hurt others in the process." I shrugged and then admitted, more quietly. "Also..."
"You think you can change his mind." Wong murmured.
"Yes." I didn't bother lying to him.
"What if you're wrong?" Wong questioned.
I could tell he wasn't trying to change my mind, or to tell me I was wrong, he just wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting myself into.
"It's a risk I gotta take." I admitted quietly. "Mordo is a good man. His world view has been challenged, all his beliefs shattered. He put all his trust, his faith, in someone who let him down, and the shock was so great... he's lost, and if I can help him find his way back, I must try." I looked straight at Wong. "He believed in me Wong. Even before the Ancient One did, he gave me a chance. I can do no less."
"Lets just hope this desire of yours will not get you killed." Wong muttered.
He didn't like it, but whether he respected my position as Master, or simply myself in general, in the end he didn't try to stop me.
"I might be able to help with that." Christine offered quite unexpectedly.
I had almost forgotten she was there at all.
"Ch... Dr. Palmer?" I questioned, I'd promised myself that if we ever spoke again I'd keep cool, be polite, she was helping the Order too much to do any less.
"Stephen... You seemed to imply you need somewhere to go." She explained quietly. "I'm leaving for a medical conference in Chicago in a few hours, you're welcome to stay in my apartment while I'm gone."
"That's... that's actually a very good idea." I nodded. "Thank you."
I followed her out once Wong left, promising Johnathan to be back (I would be keeping him company until his wife got out from work and arrived). She handed me a key, after commenting I probably didn't really need it.
"About the other day at the Deli..." She began, then broke off, hesitant.
"Dr... Christine..." I said softly, a hand lightly on her arm. "It's quite alright."
"No I... I never wanted to hurt you Stephen..." She insisted.
"I know." I assured her. "You are in your right to make your own choices. And your choice has taken us down different paths. Or that should be, both our choices. I tried to hold on so hard to you, perhaps because I was simply too afraid to accept that there was nothing left of my old life anymore." I shook my head, somewhat self-deprecating. "Even after everything that's happened, everything I've learned, I was still trying to use you. I always did know you were much too good for me Christine..."
"No!" She shook her head vehemently. "It's not about that at all! I mean, well you did do a lot of stuff that hurt me. But it wasn't about that. I... you're a good man Stephen, never doubt that. You might have been... less than that for a long time, but that doesn't matter now. You're a good man, and one day you'll find a woman that will love you, who will be beautiful and courageous and ready to stand beside you in this new life you've made for yourself. But that person cannot be me. I... I want to help you, I like helping your friends... but I cannot be the one who sits at home waiting for her man to come back from the latest battle against evil, or even worse, if you were to ever not come back... I cannot handle that. I know there are other women out there that do it, and they have my utmost respect, but I cannot be like them."
"And you shouldn't have to be." I assured her. "There's nothing wrong with knowing your own limits Christine. You're a great, beautiful, kind, brave woman, and I have no doubt that you will find the right kind of man for you. I think... maybe we were simply never meant for one another."
I had tried to force myself into being something I wasn't, and it wasn't a matter of being or not ready, I simply wasn't the kind of man Christine needed in her life, and I could finally accept that. I still hoped she (both of us really) would one day find our matches.
"I think I would like to try being friends though." She offered then.
"I would like that too." I agreed.
She kissed me then, on the cheek, much like she had that day, before the battle in Hong Kong.
"Promise me you will take care." She murmured, hugging me tightly but briefly.
"I will do my very best." I assured her.
She nodded once, and then she was gone.
xXx
I waited until Maureen arrived and made sure she'd be alright. Walker had dropped by and placed a protective ward on Johnathan's room to make sure he and his wife would be safe. Maureen knew about us, about what had happened to her husband, their son didn't (though the two adults had made up an excuse to have him stay at a friend's place for a few days, so he'd be safer). I promised them both we'd make sure they were alright; also promised myself to find a way to help Johnathan, if anyone deserved being healed, it was him.
It took three days for Mordo to come after me. I suppose he might have been spying on me, making sure I was really alone, perhaps preparing himself for the confrontation (I would never believe it'd taken him that long to find me, he was too good for that).
I still wasn't sleeping well, though I wasn't sure what was worse anymore, if the painful memories of my many deaths, the confusing moments between dead and living, or the figure in the long cloak I could almost believe I knew, yet I couldn't even remember her name...
I was deep in meditation (the only way I got any real rest anymore... though I knew it was a temporary solution at best), when it finally happened. I might have been a genius, but I was still young, in some ways, still had much to learn, like Wong had said in a few occasions. I did not sense Mordo's approach until he was already upon me, and by then it was already too late. All I could do was take a breath and brace myself for the pain I expected to follow, whether he tried to kill me or steal my magic, I knew it'd be painful nonetheless...
Nothing happened, or not quite nothing, I could sense a shift, I also became aware of the fact that I couldn't move. My whole body was immobilized, nothing but the automatic motions (like my breathing, the beating of my heart and such) remained. I couldn't even open my eyes. I knew something was happening, but had no idea what at all. Still, the lack of pain was surprising.
"Strange..." His voice was suddenly in my ear. "How I wish it'd never come to this... but you broke the laws of nature, and justice must be served."
For a moment I could almost believe he'd whispered an apology to me at the end, but that was impossible, why would he be doing anything at all if he was sorry?
I couldn't know for sure how much time passed before I could move again, but the moment I could I swiftly got on my feet, looking around me. Mordo was nowhere to be seen. It also took me almost a handful of seconds to realize why my surroundings felt... off. I wasn't in the real world anymore...
"The Mirror Dimension..." I murmured to myself.
A quick search confirmed what I already suspected: my sling ring was gone. You don't want to get stuck in here without your sling ring. That's what the Ancient One had said. She also had explained how the dimension was used to train, survey and contain threats... was that what Mordo intended? What he saw me as? A threat to be contained? All the same, I was alive and unscathed, he hadn't even tried to hurt me, I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one, but I'd rather be positive about it. Didn't change the fact that I still needed to find a way to get out of the Mirror Dimension and back to the real one... without the sling ring... I hadn't the slightest idea how I was supposed to manage that.
xXx
It was one hell of a week. I'd basically walked all around the Mirror version of NY and nothing. No one could see me, and I could in no way affect the real world, no matter how insistently I used magic in the Mirror Dimension, it was pointless. And with the threat of Mordo no one in the Sanctum had so much as stepped into the Dimension for training. I saw Wong, Turner, Walker, and the rest of the most experienced sorcerers go out into NY every other day, quite probably looking for me (Wong himself had gone to Christine's apartment twice, but of course they never found me). I was beginning to lose hope of ever finding my way back.
Also, the Dimension wasn't helping matters any. On the third day I'd actually expended enough energy trying to force something onto the real world I pretty much dropped unconscious. I'd managed a good few hours of sleep with no dreams... but eventually the dreams did come, and they seemed to be even worse in the Mirror Dimension. She was always there... she... and I could never touch her. No matter how many times or how far I reached for her, I could never quite reach her, it was frustrating, disheartening, downright depressing...
The only comfort I had was Levi, and I could tell she was as stressed out as I was. She tried to help of course, be there for me, but I knew we'd probably both go crazy unless by some kind of miracle we managed to get out, and soon.
In the end I wasn't quite sure how it happened exactly (had no idea what happened at all, if I was honest with myself). I'd been in the Sanctum, wandering, and I ended in the attic (not a new thing really, I spent a lot of time there, looking out the window, at the city extending beneath me). I was actually walking in the direction of the window when I saw her. Her back was to me, and I felt the sudden need not to make a sound, like she was some kind of mirage and would vanish if I made the slightest noise...
Of course that was why, the next step I took seemed to echo around me, almost mocking me.
She twisted around instantly, and for the first time I could truly see her face: perfect, unblemished porcelain skin with the slightest rosy tone, full coral-pink lips, almond shaped bright green eyes, as bright as the clearest emeralds I'd ever seen; and her hair really was black, as dark as a raven's wing, thick and somewhat curly, though I could see very little of it, with the seemingly ever present turquoise-green hooded cloak covering her.
"Oh..." The lightest of exclamation escaped her lips.
I didn't even think about it, I just stepped forward, reaching for her. I wanted to call to her, but hadn't the slightest idea what name to call. One of her white hands was outside the cloak and I reached for that. I only managed to brush her fingertips, the slightest whisper of a touch, and then as I gave another step, intending to reach her, to hold her, to learn who she was... Everything changed abruptly. It was as if the world tilted beneath my feet without warning. For a moment I wondered if someone had altered reality around me, perhaps Mordo had returned? Was he finally moving against me? But I soon realized it wasn't that, I dropped to my knees with a painful bang, hard enough I could feel the jarring deep into my bones. It still took me two seconds (or five) to realize everything around me had changed, in a way I could have never expected...
"Doctor Strange!"
I only vaguely heard Sachiko call me, less aware of her, and more of the fact that She was gone again. Then my mind finally caught up with me as I realized that somehow (miraculously) I was back in the real world. Darkness swallowed me but a moment later.
Creatures, other than human (more than human) I was among them and I felt complete... Things had changed, but that was alright because I wasn't alone, and as long as we were together nothing could ever be that hard, that bad... A thousand faces, a thousand places, times, lives, between joy and grief, success and failure, victory and defeat, life and death. A thousand lifetimes walking the worlds, the universe, side by side.
War, there was always war all around me, I grew tired of it, and especially, I grew tired of us losing each other to it. All I wanted was one lifetime where we could be happy, where we could be together and not fear that any moment something might happen that would rip us out of each other's arms again (old I might have been, in more ways than one, but I still hadn't understood that war is a neverending curse that plagues every world and every race in the universe).
A shift all around me, and suddenly I was standing on grass, dressed in blue robes, eyes fixed on the watery surface before me, and the figure slowly walking out of it, she was a vision, dressed in an off-white that wouldn't be out of place in the open ocean, as part of the surf, dark hair falling down her back, the water fell down her form, not a single drop clinging to her at all. In my eyes, she was beauty personified...
I blinked, and found myself surrounded by shadows and mist, confused, my mind still trying to catch up with the facts. Was I dead or was I alive? I couldn't quite remember what I'd been doing just before waking up in that odd place. I had been at war, had been fighting a battle... or had I? All thought fell to the wayside though, the moment I laid eyes on her. She was dressed all in black, and her equally dark hair looked somewhat unkempt, something that didn't fit with some odd idea of her in the back of my head (which wasn't logical at all, I'd never seen her before in my life... and I'd certainly have remembered one such as her)... She turned around then, and seemed to transform before my eyes, though the only thing that really changed was the light that suddenly appeared in her eyes.
"Stephanos..." She called in the sweetest voice I'd ever heard, even ambrosia couldn't be sweeter.
Stephanos... yes, that was my name. It had to be, hadn't it? It was what she was calling me.
So many stories, so many lifetimes, each as unsatisfying as the last, for I was always missing something and had no idea what exactly it was. And always at the end of it I'd get the chance, just for a few seconds, to see her, to stand by her, before it was all over and she was gone again. Or was I the one gone?
My mind seemed to finally reach working order, right as I found myself sitting behind the wheel of a car, that was enough to almost freeze me in shock (I had barely sat in any vehicles since my accident, certainly hadn't driven any); only I didn't freeze, as I soon realized, I had no control at all over my own body. It was like I was trapped inside a dream (nightmare? Memory?), could do nothing but let it take me where it may. I heard Billy on the phone, reading over the files of people who wanted me to take them on as my patients, heard as I rejected each one, over completely stupid reasons... and then it happened, the accident:
I was trapped inside my own body, or the memory of it as the car spun out of control, flipped twisted and so many more things I couldn't really comprehend. My hands hit the dashboard and I couldn't even feel the pain, the shock was simply too much. When the movement finally stopped I was still in my seat, hands practically destroyed, and I wasn't aware of anything at all... or not quite, back then I hadn't been, but as I sat inside my own body I began noticing things I hadn't back then... like the figure sitting on the passenger seat of my car, looking at me with a mix of worry and the greatest compassion.
She stayed by my side until the paramedics arrived, through the helicopter ride, and even as doctors approached and took the gurney I was on into the operating room. She never left my side. There was so much feeling in her eyes, half-obscured as they were beneath the hood of her ever-present cloak, I couldn't possibly have missed it.
"It's not your time yet..." I thought I could hear her whisper. "As much as I might miss you, as much as I might love you... No. Not yet Stephanos, and not like this."
She was there by my side, invisible to the human eye, through my time in the hospital, through all the surgeries, the PT sessions, the sleepless nights and frustrating days. She was there on the day I finally pushed Christine hard enough to make her leave and as I stood against the window, looking at my unkempt reflection I could see her, standing behind me and just a little to a side, a single white hand peeking from her cloak, extended as if she were trying to touch me and keeping herself from it at the same time.
I saw pieces of my own time at Kathmandú, through my training, my discoveries, and my unexpected (and heart-breaking) battle in the New York Sanctum. Wasn't sure how I knew it, but I got the sense that while she hadn't been there at the time, she'd come to know what had been happening to me... eventually.
She was there again, finally, in Hong Kong and even followed me into the Dark Dimension itself (through her presence there was even more blurry and less defined than anywhere else). And then I died for the first time, found myself standing in shadows and mist, like I had so long ago... (or had I?), and she was there, right beside me, except there was no cloak and instead of any black or off-white dresses (or green, or red or blue...), she was wearing a heavy purple velvet gown, and while that one too had a hood, in that moment it was pushed back and I could see her raven-black hair in a loose braid falling all the way to the small of her back.
"Oh Stephanos..." She spoke in a language I did not know, yet I could understand it anyway. "Oh my love I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you're in such pain. I wish so much I could help you yet there's nothing I can do, nothing but stand here, silent, watching you, holding you for a fraction of a second, between death and living. My valiant knight... I know this is hard, I know it hurts, but do not give up. Please never give up... Please..."
I hadn't remembered those words, not at the time, and still some kind of force had kept me from giving up, had pushed me to endure dying 413 times without breaking... Perhaps a part of me, instinctively, had known she was there, had known she'd never leave me... never...
I woke up abruptly, paying no attention at all to my surroundings, not quite noticing the fact that I was in my own room, laying on my own bed, or even the real world at all, a single word escaped my lips in a soul-wrenching scream:
"ELAINE!"
This fic consists of three parts, it's the fourth and last part of this third phase (there will be a fourth) in the Nightingale series. Updates will be coming weekly and after it's done (and a little break, three or four weeks) we shall be diving into a new round of AUs (four or six this time). Just so you all know what you can expect.
Full-size cover and set of wallpapers can, as always, be found in my deviantArt page, I go by Princess-Lalaith.