An: This piece is therapy for me. It contains discussions if depression and suicidal tendencies. My mc is a maladaptive daydreamer, just like me. This has real feelings in it. Real pain, woven in to try and make sense of it all.
Stephen Strange hated when he had to go to the hospital during working hours. Since becoming sorceror supreme, he visited sometimes; trying to make things up with Christine, but any other reason reminded him of the initial tragedy that had driven him away. She hadn't been here this time, so he was on his way out when he saw from the corner of his eye...an astral form. It was a young lady, barely into her twenties. She was laughing and dancing down the hall. The room she'd drifted from had a steady beeping. He took a peek in and hesitated.
The young lady had the wristband given out to suicidal patients, the ones who needed to be watched. She was currently alone though, and with a glance at her chart, it became apparent why. "Medically induced coma...By self?" Still alive, though. Strange frowned and went after the patient's astral form. "You should get back to your body. You'll die soon if you don't."
She startled. "You can see me? No one ever sees me when I'm having this dream."
This dream? She's projected before? "You're not dreaming. You're dying because you overdosed on sleeping pills and your soul left your body."
She ignored this. "Isn't it beautiful how when you're asleep you can be anything you want?" Before his eyes, her astral form shifted and changed into a shiny, winged version of herself with an extra pair of eyes. "Being a fairy is a lot more fun."
"You shouldn't be able to do that." He was a little unnerved. "Are you a student at Kamar Taj?"
She laughed and flitted around the hall. "I don't know what that is. I think I'm ready to move on. This setting kind of sucks." The walls began to move, to change. Strange tried not to give in to the burgeoning headache and grabbed the soul by her arm.
"Normally I'd mind my own business. But I am still technically a doctor. I cannot just let a suicide case finish the job."
The girl stilled, the word seeming to bring her back. In a small, broken voice she looked at him and began shaking. "I wasn't trying to die. I just don't want to be awake. I can be anything here. There...awake...trapped in that body...It feels so wrong."
"Are you... transgender? Fluid?"
The young lady shook her head. "No. I just...feel so suffocated by that body. So constrained. Dreams are like magic. The only magic I can get. It's scary without..." She quieted. "I can't stand reality. Not anymore. So...I mean, dying doesn't sound so bad. Like a forever dream."
Fuck. Strange fought to keep a neutral expression. His bedside manner was awful. There was a reason surgery had appealed more to him, beyond simply paying so much. It was both a challenge and kept him from dealing with conscious patients that much more. I hated my rotation in psychiatry. "Death is permanent." He tried.
"Yeah well, I never asked to be made or born into this shitty hell. If reality is mere perception and a matter of perspective...Well my reality is that the dreams are just as real as the crap you say I have to go back to. And not only are they just as real...But they're infinitely better. I have actual control when I'm asleep, a chance to be what I'd like to be. All the tools I could ever need."
"Life is supposed to suck. Nothing worth having is easy." He started, only for her to steam roll him again.
"Perspective, doctor. I think I've struggled enough in this life time. I've struggled enough that I deserve this nap. This break."
"I fully support checking out occasionally, but you still need to maintain your house." His temple was throbbing. "Look I can force you back in. I won't like it. You really won't. But I can and I will. Then I'll have you watched so tightly you never get a chance to do this again."
She deflated. "Then go ahead. Re-assign me to my suffering. I hope it ends soon."
"Or you can come with me to Kamar Taj and I'll teach you a healthier way to do this. Without drugs and self-induced comas."
"You'll...show me how to do this more often?" He could see she was interested. "These are the best kind."
"I would make sure you learned it." Strange was careful to make no promises, given that it seemed like it would be healthy to have less sleep. She was still wavering. "Room and board is provided for our students."
"Can we fake my death? I don't have anything left here and it would benefit what little family there is if I just died." Strange felt this like a slap to the face. "There's insurance on me. Had a good job before I stopped being able to stay awake. They need it and if you're to give me a place to sleep...I don't need to be alive. Technically. Not in society."
"Legally." He corrected. "And... I'll think about that. Will you get back in your body now?"
"Fine. But I hate it." The soul went back and slipped in. Strange sat around to wait for a nurse so he could figure out the patient custody situation.
x
By the time Strange got custody of the patient, Wong had gotten back to him on the room he'd asked to have prepared for the girl. He was reading over her file now and noticed an alarming pattern of therapy, medication, medication abuse, hospitalization, near death, and a restart of all the above. He glanced at the name. Meri Greene, 24. It didn't take much digging to see that her mother had suffered the same affliction with the same kind of pattern. A sling portal swirled into existence next to him and Strange spoke to Wong.
"Did you bring the things I asked you to?" He was handed the items in a pouch.
"You think the girl isn't human." Wong was weary.
"I think there's something more than what she believes." Strange hesitated. "To so often and easily connect to one's astral self without training..." He met Wong's eyes. "The pattern of behavior is reminiscent of some creatures from a higher plane. I recall reading of them." He began producing the items for the magical detection of one's lineage. "Let's get this done and move her into a room at the temple before she wakes up."