Slowing things down after last chapter's action pack ride. Enjoy!
Chapter 18
New York City
December
Strange continued to hold on to Cleopatra, gently rubbing circles into her back as her crying finally came to a halt. Pulling back from Strange's now soaked shirt, Cleo peeped a quiet 'sorry' as she rubbed her puffy red eyes. Brushing some loose curly strands of hair from her face, Strange's heart broke as he saw the difficulty she took to breath. "Stay here…" he mumbled as he rose from the bed and made way to his bedroom. Searching for a few minutes, he returned to his spot on the bed with a stethoscope and medical bag in hand. "Can you lift up your shirt?" he asked cautiously.
Nodding, Cleo began the motion of removing her shirt but gasped in pain as she clutched her left side. Strange's shaky hand immediately ghosted over Cleo's tanned ones, moving her hand aside he placed them over her ribs. Slowly, he added pressure. Cleo's hiss was all the indication that he needed. "You have several fractured ribs," he diagnosed as he retreated his scarred hand, "I will need to take off your sweatshirt so I can check…"
"He wasn't only physical." Cleo cut into Strange's repertoire. The first time she had spoken since he had apologized to her. Her voice was hoarse, probably due to dehydration, Strange added to his diagnoses.
Already knowing the answer but he hoped she wouldn't say it, Strange asked, "What do you mean?"
"He also used magic." Cleo whispered as her eyes began to sting, confirming his fears. He felt as though his heart sunk like a stone in the ocean.
Using magic as a means of torture was prohibited as the damages were sometimes permanent. Holding his voice steady, "Where," he asked. Opening her mouth, no words left as she drew in her eyebrows, vivid memories flashing in her mind. He noticed.
"Why don't we get you changed first and then you can show me?" Strange offered as he rose to his feet, feeling heavy with worry and guilt. Nodding her head, Strange got to work. Since the sweatshirt was already sleeveless, Strange cut it off of Cleo. Turning his back as Cleo slowly took off her pants, Strange gathered some additional medical supplies from her bathroom. Fighting to not turn back around at every grunt or sharp intake of breath he heard. Releasing his Cloak to go and get Cleo a water bottle, Strange leaned against the bathroom door, prepping himself for he was about to see. Once he got the okay from her, he turned around and hated what he saw.
Visiting the ER to see Christine or to owe her a favour, Strange was accustomed to seeing varying injuries but the worst ones to see, the hardest ones to look those patients in the eyes were those domestically abused. They would come in after years of sustaining injury, injuries that were never treated. They would come in when it was too much. Or when it was much too late. Battered bodies of women and men, the broken look in their eyes. That was all he was reminded of as he looked at Cleo as she sat on the bed in her sports bra and black shorts.
Deep blue and purple bruises littered her tanned skin. He saw multiple large hand prints wrapped around her limbs. Looking back up at her face, he noticed the dried blood running down her neck. Yet the worse thing was a black swirl on her chest, right on top of her heart.
"It can't look worse than it feels," Cleo commented, snapping Strange out of his thoughts. Setting the medical bag on the bed beside her, Strange knelt on the floor, placing his stethoscope on her chest, making sure to not touch the black swirl. Cleo jumped at the contact. "Did I hurt you?!" he asked snatching his hand away from her skin. "No, no, sorry it was just really cold," she responded sheepishly. Small smile on his lips, Strange returned the stethoscope to her chest and instructed her to breath.
His previous diagnoses of fractured ribs was correct as he removed the medical instrument from Cleo's side. Strange paused his administrations as the Cloak returned and Cleo hastily downed the two water bottles the relic had brought. Wiping the dry blood from her body, he could hear little grunts. Wrapping her side with ointment and gauze, he asked the question he had been dreading.
"Can you show me where?"
Taking in a deep breath, Cleo hesitantly pointed to every one of the hand prints on her body, her neck and lastly to the black swirl on her chest. "Right," Strange mumbled as he inspected the hand prints first on her arm. "It felt like I was being electrocuted," Cleo whispered, eyes glued to the floor.
Pausing to look at her, Strange felt his heart sink further. "And this one?" he asked pointing to her other arm. "All the hand prints felt like a current of electricity stabbing at me," she mumbled. "And… and this one?" he asked, pointing to the black swirl on her chest. She didn't respond right away, wiping some stray tears that had fallen, "Um… it felt like… like a heart attack. I thought my heart was going to explode." Rubbing furiously at her eyes, Cleo covered her face with her hands, beginning to shake again, "I had never experienced pain like that before."
"Cleo…" Strange whispered as he watched the Scribe ball the bed cover in one hand as she tried to calm her breathing. Placing one of his scarred hands over hers, Strange tightened his hold. "What are you…?" Cleo paused her question as a purple aura glowed around their hands. Looking up at Strange, he had his eyes closed, muttering a spell. "No!" Cleo croaked out, trying to pull her hand from his with what little strength she had left. "No, please! You don't have to."
The purple aura stretched across Cleo's body, engulfing her.
"Strange, please." She begged.
The aura surrounding Cleo's body traveled down to her hand and up Strange's covering his body. Cleo felt the tug of pain, soreness and anxiety lifted from her body. Some of the hand prints had disappeared from her arms and legs. Cleo could see clearer and breath with less difficulty, Strange on the other hand had his eyebrows drawn in, his hand shaking more than usual, sweating profusely. Letting go of her hand with his clammy one, Strange stood from the bed grunting as he wrapped an arm around his stomach. The purple aura gone.
"Strange!" Cleo called out as she followed him. He leaned against the open door frame of the bathroom. Holding his hand in front of her face, give me a moment, it read as Strange curled over the toilet, releasing what little he had in his stomach. Cleo stood outside of the bathroom, unsure of what to do. Looking back to her, he pointed a scarred hand to the bed, Cleo understood and raced to retrieve the medical bag. Placing it on the counter, Strange rose on unsteady feet to rummage through the bag, panting heavily as he produced a needle and small glass container. Trying unsuccessfully to load the needle with the medicine, Strange groaned as he dropped the items on the counter to vomit again. Picking up where he had left off, Cleo loaded the needle for Strange, eyes fixated on his figure, confused as to what was happening. "Stephan…"
Wiping bile from his lips, he sat on the ground, back against the tub. Pointing to his neck, Cleo understood once again and pierced his skin with the needle, slowly pushing the medication in. Cleo stood frozen as she watched Strange's breathing slowly return to normal. Opening one of his eyes open, Strange smirked, "You have a doctor's hand." Smiling, Cleo chucked a towel at Stephan.
"What happened?" Cleo asked as she sank to the bathroom floor, sitting adjacent to the Doctor. The black swirl on her chest still stinging. Wiping his face with the towel, Strange spoke from his reclined position, "My body went into shock. Absorbing half of your suffering crashed my system. My body viewed the influx as an infection but it was unable to release the necessary chemicals to fight it. You injected me with ceftriaxone, which helped my body not fall into a coma."
"Oh…" Cleo was shocked. Looking at the man in front of her, her dark eyes softened as she noticed his flinching as he brought himself to an upright position.
"Why would you do it? Why would you willingly take my agony?" she asked.
Dark eyes met greenish blue ones, Strange responded with an almost broken voice, "Pain is an old friend."
Silence filled the air between the two. Two hurting people in a seemingly cruel and indifferent world.
"Something doesn't make sense," Strange pondered from his spot on the floor, "how is it that your body did not go into shock, or react to the pain? How were you able to keep conscious this whole time?" Strange asked as he looked at the Scribe. Looking to her upper left arm, Strange gasped, "What happened to the Bracelet of Boudica?"
"I… I removed the gem so I would be able to fight against Mordo." She explained nonchalantly. "You did what?!" Strange asked, reaching for the incomplete relic. "Yea… I dug the gem out with my hand. The gem is on the nightstand." Cleo explained, not fully catching what the big deal was. Strange released the gold band from Cleo's arm, making note of the angry red burn the bracelet hid.
Looking back up to Cleo's face, innocence is bliss, Strange thought. Not able to contain his excitement, he woozily got up to his feet, pulling Cleo up with him. "Cleo, this explains so much!" He spoke, eyes coming back to life. "This means that your mother's magic gave you strength!"
"My Mother?" Cleo whispered.
"Yes!" Strange answered, "Yes, don't you see? Any normal sorcerer would be unable to remove the gem from the bracelet. They would be unable to endure a fraction of what you have been through, hell, I'm proof of that!" he gestured towards himself.
"I still don't…"
"It means that your mother's magic, the magic that is currently pulsing through your veins protects you and gives you not only magical strength but ups your threshold to withstand magical attacks. That is why you were still conscious after what Mordo had done to you. You have magical resistance. That is why you are alive!" He concluded, eyes locked into dark ones.
Even from beyond the grave, she still protects me, Cleo realized as she placed her hand over where the golden ankh had once been.
"All this time, I thought she gave me her magic just so Mordo couldn't take it," Cleo spoke softly, "But she gave it so I can be protected. It wasn't about Mordo, it was about ensuring I was taken care of. It was out of love." Turning around to look herself in the mirror, Cleo looked past her battered form. She noticed how her eyes were shaped like her mother, the same dark intensity looming beneath. Also her lips and nose. Cleo had never released just how alike she had looked to her mother. Placing a scarred hand on her shoulder, Strange looked into the mirror at Cleo, a small smile on his lips.
"She lives in you," he spoke.
"Shut up, Rafiki." Cleo replied turning around, her spirits slowly lifting.
"Ha ha, I should have never showed you Lion King!" Strange shot back as Cleo chuckled.
Laughing, the duo slowly caught their breath as they regained their composure. Looking up at Strange, Cleo felt better. Cathartic. Still chuckling, Strange exited the bathroom slowly, hand still around his stomach. "Come on, we can order from that Korean place you like so much." He offered as he picked up the gem and pocketed the relic, along with the arm band.
"Don't even lie, you like it more than I!" Cleo shot back as she threw on a shirt, covering the black swirl on her chest.
Still quipping, the pair made their way slowly up to the room with the fireplace. Strange taken off his shirt to wrap his own ribs in gauze and ointment as Cleo summoned mugs of hot chocolate from the kitchen. For a moment, it almost felt as though everything had returned back to normal. Before she sneaked out, before acquiring the Book, before being captured.
"No, no, you did not say that to Wong!" Cleo called from her armchair, pointing with her chopsticks.
"Yes, I did! I called him Beyoncé to his face." Strange answered, picking up another dumpling.
"I wish I saw that!" Cleo exclaimed, looking into the fire. The flames reflecting in her eyes.
"Cleopatra…" Strange spoke, setting down his dumpling, "Are you going to be alright?" he asked sincerely.
Looking between the flames and her Teacher, she nodded. Feeling her moods lifted. "I'm not dead. Mordo has tried multiple times and each time we always come out of it alive, albeit a bit roughed up." Looking to Strange, Cleo smiled, "So long as we have each other, I know that I will be fine, Stephan."
Smiling, Strange felt the weight on his shoulders lift.
"I'm sorry for sneaking out." Cleo apologized, eyes not leaving Strange. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted." Strange also apologized.
"But can you really blame me?" Cleo spoke, "I mean, the hot chocolate at the café I would visit was amazing!" Strange chuckled, glad that they were moving past the rough patch they had come across. They sat in comfortable silence as they finished their meal. The Cloak floating behind Strange, seeming also content. Summoning another round of hot chocolate, the pair sipped as they watched the flames dance.
"It will take time for you to heal, well, for the both of us," Strange thought aloud as he swallowed a mouthful of the sugary drink, "We will take the next couple of days off to heal properly. After… After, we will tackle your mother's magic. We will understand it and find a way for you to control it. Together." Strange promised.
"Together," Cleo responded.
