Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Strange, neither am I profiting from this work. I also have very little medical knowledge so everything will be from Google.
Stephen Strange is known as a world renowned neurosurgeon. Or at least, he was.
After a bad day, he had gotten into an accident that destroyed his career. He remembered it clearly, though he wishes he didn't.
Stephen had woken up late and therefore didn't have time for a quick breakfast before he had to rush to the hospital for his shift. Once he had literally ran into multiple co-workers and his office, it was non-stop surgery.
Patient after patient was rolled in and Stephen fixed them. Incisions, scrubs, needles, lights, scissors, stitches, bandages, and everything else one could think of, including music. Yes, music.
It had become a kind of ritual for Stephen to listen to music during surgery- it kept him calm and helped him focus.
During this particular surgery, a coworker named Billy was monitoring the patients vitals– and running music through Stephen's iphone. Two other doctors assigned to work with the neurosurgeon stood besides him, aiding in the surgery.
"Challenge round, Billy." Stephen announced, breaking the tense silence.
Billy nodded and switched songs, the music filling the room. Stephen groaned and his hands stilled. "Oh, come on, Billy. You've got to be messing with me!"
Billy chuckled. "No, doctor."
Stephen rolled his eyes, turning back to his patient. "'Feels So Good', Chuck Mangione, 1977." Stephen's gaze flicked to the assistant. "Seriously, Billy, you said this one would be hard!"
"Hah!" Billy exclaimed. "It's 1978."
Stephen shook his head, smirking. "No, Billy, while Feels So Good may have charted in 1978, the album was released in December, 1977."
Billy looked up at the doctor, confused. "No, no. Wikipedia says the-"
"Check again." Stephen instructed with a knowing grin.
"When did you-?"
One of the other doctors spared him an amused glance. "Where do you store all this useless information?"
Stephen scoffed. "Useless? The man charted a top ten hit with a flugelhorn! Status, Billy?"
Billy sighed dejectedly, not meeting the neurosurgeons gaze. "1977."
The doctor sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please! I hate you."
Stephen grinned behind his mask, doing jazz hands. "Woah! 'Feels So Good', doesn't it?"
Everyone in the room except Stephen and the unconscious patient groaned.
Despite the banter and jokes, the surgery was a complete success and Stephen left the OR smiling proudly.
Reaching the cleanup room, Stephen stripped off his scrubs and gathered his things, ready to go home after a long shift. He was nearing the elevator on the third floor when the building began to shake.
A nurse in the hall behind Stephen let out a shout of alarm and Stephen looked around for the cause of the shaking. His first thought was an earthquake, but the thought was quickly dismissed as he caught a glimpse of something in the distance. Something silver, sometimes deadly with sharp, metallic teeth and a black gaze that seemed hungry for blood.
Stephen was frozen as the monster neared, roaring, the sound grating against Stephen's ears and rattling the window panes.
The monster grew closer and closer. Paralyzed with fear, Stephen could only watch as he realized the monster was going to crash into the hospital.
Until a deafening shout caught the monsters attention. It turned away and roared again, but abandoned the hospital to pursue the large form of Thor, from what Stephen could see. The neurosurgeon heaved a sigh of relief. He's never been more grateful of a god until that moment.
Until the monster's tail slammed into the building. Stephen shouted as plaster and large parts of the hospital frame rained down, coating him in white dust. Stephen felt the floor beneath him crumble and the next thing he knew, he was free falling.
Screaming, Stephen twisted in midair, watching the ground fly closer. Squeezing his eyes shut, Stephen threw his arms in from of him and prepared himself for the impact.
He landed with a scream of pain. He could feel his wrists and finger bones shattering on impact.
Stephen let out a sob, rolling onto his back. His arms were burning, everything in his body hurt.
Stephen tried to sit up, to find safety, but his body cried out in protest. Stephen fell back, his head colliding painfully with the ground beneath him, his vision beggining to blur. He felt something warm and wet and sticky trickle down his face, matting his hair together. Blood, he assumed.
The doctor groaned and lifted his hands. They were mangled and bloody, he could see a few pieces of white and too many spots of grey where rock had dug into his skin. He was right, the bones in his hands had been shattered on impact. His hazy mind refused to acknowledge the fact that if he was left untreated, his injuries would ruin any chance of ever operating again.
All he could recognize at the moment, however, was the blood on his hands. All he could see was blood. Sticky, red, painfully blood.
Stephen moaned at the overpowering pain as the world began to spin.
His vision began to fade and Stephen's hands dropped to his sides, spikes of hot pain running up and down his arms.
Hopefully someone would find him. Someone had to. A stranger, probably. Or an Avenger. Probably not a family member or significant other as those were all people Stephen didn't have in his life at the moment.
If Stephen wasn't nearly passed out on the cracked cement, laying in a pile of rubble, sparkling like Edward Cullen from all the broken glass, be would've chuckled dryly.
Maybe Christine would help him.
He and Christine hadn't worked out, but he still cared deeply for her. She cared for him too, he thought.
Yeah, Stephen's conscious whispered in his ears. Christine would find him.
Everything went black.