It was a solemn ritual. One he had conducted so many times he had memorised all the steps by heart.
He shone his light into eyes that had once looked upon him with kindness and patience. Stephen remembered the look of disgust, disappointment and disdain in them on the day they parted ways. Now the pupils stared back at him, blank and unresponsive.
He gently injected ice-cold water into each ear in turn and the empty eyes remained still, moving neither left nor right, staring dead ahead.
The corneal response, the cough and gag reflexes, they all too proved absent and truly gone. All the primitive brain reflexes he had tested, all null and desolate with no glimmer of hope in sight.
With a heavy hand, Stephen disconnected the respirator and watched. He waited with bated breath, he waited for longer than he knew he should and usually did, for the return of spontaneous breathing that he knew, deep down in his heart, was never going to come.
"You have changed, Stephen Strange."
Stephen reconnected the ventilator. He did not turn around. There was no need to.
"As I fleeted in and out of my body, trying in vain to gain hold of my vessel once more, I watched you from the shadows." The disembodied voice spoke in nonchalance as if it mattered not in the slightest that the conversation be one-sided.
"You could have used the Eye of Agamotto to try and save your beloved Prince."
Stephen's hand stilled over the cold skin of Mordo's eyelids. He was in the midst of closing them.
"Loki never needed saving from anyone."
He could sense Mordo's astral form nod as if in affirmation behind him.
"I am the dying proof of that."
"I am afraid you are no longer even that, Mordo."
Stephen had hoped against hope the hypothermia had protected Mordo's brain function somewhat. Yet for all that Wong's magic had done to thaw his body, Mordo's own intrinsic magic, the myriad of healing spells and resuscitative efforts of the Healing Halls of Asgard…they were all no match against the savage, icy magic of the Casket of Ancient Winters.
"So this is it. The point of no return." The finality in Mordo's words struck a chord in Stephen's heart. There was no challenge in them, no defiance. Only acceptance and surrender.
The Stephen of old would have invoked the Eye in a heartbeat if it meant saving Mordo's life, as he did Wong's. But Stephen knew better than to invalidate Mordo's autonomy, a man so strong and principled in his convictions that Mordo would rather die with honour than live in infamy.
"I cannot even die in the right order. The brain dies first before the body." Mordo's astral form flickered, but his voice never wavered.
"I am the abomination."
To think Stephen had so many questions he wanted answered.
Why Loki. Why their unborn son. Why Pangborn.
Why him.
Now standing here in this cold, cold room with the empty shell of a man who was once his mentor, his shield-brother, his rival, his enemy -
"Goodbye, my friend."
Stephen's eyes filled.
The questions no longer mattered.
"Goodbye, Mordo."
Stephen slipped into the chamber where Loki was resting but stopped short at the sight of the figure seated on an armchair by the bedside. His back was turned but there was no mistaking who it was. Stephen gave little attention to the pangs of disappointment in his gut and turned to close the door behind him to give the brothers some privacy –
"Please do not leave on my account, Doctor." Thor's blond head never did turn to look but Stephen knew better now what made Thor so…Thor. He would rather accept the surprises than be awed by them. For all Stephen knew, the Viking God probably had eyes on the back of his head. It would not be the strangest thing he had seen.
A gauntleted hand waved to the empty chair on the other side of Loki's bed.
"Come. Sit here with us a while."
They sat in silence. For once it was not uncomfortable. Perhaps the sight of Loki lying peacefully on the bed and the golden hue of the healing dome enveloping his sleeping form was the grounding element Thor and Stephen needed to tolerate each other's company.
"How long till he wakes?
"The amount of blood that has seeped into the wall of his womb was not insignificant, the swelling needs to be undone." Stephen clasped his hands in his lap. He would have rubbed his thumbs together had he not forced them to still; it was a nervous gesture he realised he had developed.
"I intend to keep him asleep perhaps for a few days, a week at most. The involution of the muscle wall back to its rightful thickness I suspect would be very painful otherwise."
Thor seemed satisfied with his explanation. "Loki has experienced enough pain for a lifetime."
Stephen's heart skipped a beat.
"I'm sorry."
Thor looked at him sharply, his mismatched eyes unreadable.
"Why are you apologising?"
Stephen's throat constricted.
Why shouldn't he apologise? Mordo had only targeted Loki because of him. He could not stop Mordo the first time from cornering and attacking Loki two measly blocks away from his doorstep.
His carelessness had allowed the Spell of Revelation to spread its fiery clutches and nearly consume Loki in the throes of its fire. He was the one who had left Loki unprotected and allowed him to be taken under the very noses of Asgard's King, the Valkyrie and the Sorcerer Supreme. And the gravest mistake of all-
"I let him fall." Stephen closed his eyes at the memory. "I was right there, and I did not catch him."
Thor became so still Stephen feared the God of Thunder had stopped breathing. He had certainly stopped blinking.
"Do you know how many times I have been in your position, Strange?"
Stephen unclasped his hands. He slowly leaned back in his chair. The atmosphere had suddenly become heavy, almost stifling, as if the air itself had stopped moving.
"The first time he was hurled off the Bifrost after our stupid fight to dangle over the vast emptiness of The Void. I was right there."
Stephen felt the vacuum pressing heavily on his chest -
"The second time, Loki impaled Algrim the Kursed from behind in the attempt to save my life, and I watched the Monster grab my brother and pull him in onto the very blade Loki had thrust into his back. I was right there."
The pale hand closest to him twitched on top of the covers, but Loki did not awaken. Stephen stared at the long, tapered fingers and longed to touch. He could not; he was frozen.
"The third time…" Thor's voice trailed, his eyes haunted and distant. "The third time, the Mad Titan wrapped his giant hand around my brother's neck, choked the life out of him, snapped his spine before throwing his corpse at my feet. And I was right there."
How peculiar it was that Stephen was finding it difficult to breathe himself.
"So don't apologise, Stephen." Thor shook his head adamantly. "Loki may be many unsavoury things but he is a proud, lonely, and selfless soul."
"It shames me to say it but I love my brother all the more for it." Thor propped an elbow on the armrest and lifted his hand to his pursed lips, his eyes clouded. "For it means he would never begrudge me my failures."
Stephen unconsciously clasped his hands tighter. "I have come to fear that you would begrudge me mine."
"On the contrary. You found him, and you brought him home."
Stephen exhaled, not realising he had been holding his breath, "Thor, I -"
"Thank you." Thor would hear none of it. He shook his head. "You saved my brother's life, and I am forever in your debt."
"I…" Stephen swallowed against the imperceptible shake in his voice, "I almost didn't. I could have killed him, and our child."
Thor stared at him for a long time. "Would have, could have."
Stephen almost laughed out loud. The sheer absurdity of having his own words thrown back at him jolted him out of self-pity. "Would have, could have."
"But didn't." Thor reiterated.
Stephen felt his eyes water once more. He blinked the dust away and focused on Loki's face, his sharp, aristocratic features relaxed, his alabaster skin glowing in deep, medicated slumber.
"Thank you, Thor."
Thor nodded once in that unpretending yet magnanimous way of his.
"So…you're here to stay then?"
Stephen knew not if what Thor meant by 'here' be this sterile, impersonal Healing Chamber, or Asgard, or in Loki's life in general but he realised he did not care which one way or the other.
"I love him." Stephen said, almost stubbornly.
Thor gazed at him coolly and did not speak. When he finally did, he did it with a smile, gentle and loving, like the ones he had always reserved for Loki.
"I expect no less from you, Brother."
Stephen leaned his head against the pillar, looking out into the distance. The sun had risen over Asgard, the lights of the morning warm and pleasant on his face yet doing little to lift the deep melancholy in his heart. Despite the desire to stay longer, the Healers would not be hampered in their ministrations and he had left Loki's healing chamber unwillingly – in other words, he had been chased out. He mused, thinking of the countless number of times he himself had chased annoying, nosy relatives out of patients' rooms.
His small smile disappeared. The melancholy had less to do with being denied the pleasure of watching Loki get a sponge bath but more to do with the glinting object he now held in his hand, lightweight yet unbearably heavy.
The Cloak, as if sensing his heartbreak, lightly caressed his cheek and wrapped around his shoulders tighter.
"I'm sorry about your friend."
A sudden voice jolted him out of his reverie.
"Dr. Banner." Stephen unconsciously closed his palm over the sling ring. "Sorry, I didn't notice you."
Stephen sensed his hesitation, and decided he did not want to be alone after all. "Please, do join me if you wish."
Bruce soundlessly hefted himself onto the balcony, wavering as he grabbed onto one of the marble columns for support. "Oh my god, couldn't you find elsewhere to brood, somewhere not so dangerous?"
"You forget, Dr Banner. I can fly."
Bruce snorted. "Flying is over-rated. Everyone can do it now, Thor, Tony, you – " He waved a dismissive hand.
Stephen allowed a reluctant smile, before falling into solemnness once more.
"We stopped being friends toward the end." He inhaled deeply, voice tinged heavy with regret. "His choice, not mine."
"I know a thing or two about falling out of friendships," Bruce leaned back onto the palms of his hand, his legs dangling even further out the open air below. "In the end you can almost never recall who was at fault. In the end there is only loss."
Stephen knew just what the physicist was talking about. The disbanding of the Avengers had been the talk of the town for months, and the sorcerer community was in the right to be concerned. One less protector of the Earth was one more enemy allowed to go unchecked.
"You know…you are cleverer than you look."
Bruce only smiled. "Not as clever as you think. The clever thing to do right now is catch up on some sleep and yet here I am, sitting here on this balcony with you and watching the sunrise like some kind of Western Oldie."
A chaffinch, a bright-blue and red little thing, flew past him and perched on the balustrade. Another one joined soon after, this time a grey with terracotta undertones for its feathers. Stephen watched as they bristled against each other.
"He was the first friend I made at Kamar-Taj."
"Kamar-Taj. Is that like your magic school? Your Hogwarts?"
Stephen rolled his eyes. "Yes, Banner."
Bruce had a longing look on his face. "I'd love to see it. Hey, do you think I can come around one day?"
Stephen blinked a few times before answering in a resigned voice. "Sure, Bruce. I don't see why not."
Bruce looked at the object in Stephen's palm. "That his?"
Stephen nodded. "If it weren't for him, I doubt the Ancient One would have accepted me into the Order. He was my mentor of sorts. Taught me. Trained me. We fought together, and dare I say, even saved the world together."
"And now…" Stephen gazed out into nothingness, his eyes hollow. "Everything's slipped out of my hands, like a rug's been pulled under me, you know? All of a sudden, everything's turned to shit and now he's dead."
"Guess we will never know what another person truly thinks unless he tells us, Strange."
"See that's exactly the thing. He did tell me." Stephen raked a hand through his hair. "Our paths diverged, but as Sorcerer Supreme, as his friend, I should have done something, said something, pulled him back-"
" 'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both. I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.' " Bruce recited softly. "You are not responsible for the path he chose for himself, Strange."
Stephen's eyes smarted in the morning breeze. He sniffed. "You do realise you have butchered one of the greatest poems in English literature, don't you?"
"Unintentionally besmirched, maybe, but not butchered, no." Bruce took off his spectacles and wiped them on his shirt. His eyes looked sunken and tired. "Not to the extent that anyone could fail to grasp the meaning."
"The power of words." Stephen's heart felt lighter and heavier at the same time. It was a peculiar sensation. "That poem drove the poet's friend into joining the first World War, did you know?"
"Equally it could have persuaded him to stay put at home, where he would have been safe and died decades later of old age, warm in his bed."
"Your friend Mordo made his choice and here? Now? That?" Bruce pointed at the sling ring in Stephen's hand, "are the consequences of his choice."
"Lament not what you have lost, but what you have found."
"Is that another poem?"
"No, that's all me." Bruce grinned. After a beat, "You have been to see Loki?"
Stephen nodded.
"I wanted to check on him but the Healers wouldn't let me. I think I'm starting to annoy them, but my OCD just wouldn't let me sleep." Bruce yawned. "His last vital signs were good, and baby's heart rate was good too but I just – well. I just wanted to make double sure."
"Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you." Stephen took a deep breath. "And I'm sorry for all the stupid things I said."
"You mean about my useless PhDs?"
"I…don't believe I actually used the word useless.."
Bruce only laughed.
"But thank you. I owe you my life."
Bruce's forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"Uh…did something else happen? Are we talking about the same thing –"
"Loki is my life," Stephen said softly and a strange sense of calmness washed over him. "And so is the baby in his belly."
He straightened up, his back cricking at having slouched for so long.
"You saved them both. And I would hug you, but I think I've overdrawn my limit of tender gestures for today so – " Stephen held out a hand, but it was ceremoniously ignored and he suddenly found himself in a tight embrace and both of them would have toppled over the edge had it not been for The Cloak's fast action to right their precarious position, "Bruce!"
"God, I was so scared."
The physicist released him just as suddenly as he had hugged him.
"Of sending us over the edge to plummet to our deaths? I wouldn't have guessed," Stephen said sarcastically.
Bruce shook his head in all seriousness. "We were so close to losing them both, Strange. So close."
Stephen's eyes drifted to gaze intently at the golden doors of the Healing Chamber, inside which Loki was recuperating, slowly healing; safe and out of danger.
For now.
A soft whisper, "Don't I know it."