- Third POV -
She landed through a glass awning, hitting the ground hard just as the three sorcerers made their way through the crowd that was now gathering at the scene. Stephen ran in first, checking her pulse while the two masters stood back, at a loss for words.
---
As The Ancient One's body was rushed through the hospital, Stephen called out for help, "Christine!!!"
"Are you kidding me?" She sighed, before turning to see him running through with a team of nurses/paramedics. "Oh my god."
"It's not fibrillation. She has a stunned myocardium." He informed, as they rushed her body through the hospital.
"Neurogenic?" She asked, now helping push the stretcher.
"Yes."
---
They had made their way into a room, a team of surgeons now bustling around, ready to start. Stephen had slipped some spare scrubs over his robes, and moved to pick up a scalpel. His hands started to shake. The last time he was in a situation like this, he was at the top of his game. But now, upon being reminded of the life changing accident he had, he felt reluctant he could be of any help.
"Nick?" He spoke to the doctor in front of him. Previously, he had let his ego take over in situations like this, resulting in some frankly rude interactions towards the other members of staff, including Nick. He handed the scalpel to him, "We need to relieve the pressure on her brain."
The doctor accepted the tool, nodding slowly in surprise by Strange's new ability to deposit responsibility to others.
Beeppppp
"She's still dropping." A nurse called out, the heart monitor starting to flatline.
"We're losing her!" Christine shouted, making her way through the room.
"We need to increase her oxygen!" Stephen informed, standing off to the side but his attention ever present in this situation.
After several nurses were fussing about, Stephen noticed the heart monitor glitch and he realised what was happening. So, standing there, he released his astral form out of his body. And he was right. He saw the orange glow from The Ancient One's robes leave her body, and exit the room.
"What are you doing?" He called as he followed her through the halls, "Come on, you're dying!"
They made their way through a small cafeteria that Stephen used to avoid when it was crowded with other doctors, and she rested on the balcony, overlooking the night that consumed the busy city.
"You have to return to your body now. You don't have time." He stated, staring at her.
"Time is relative." She quipped, keeping her gaze forward, "Your body hasn't even hit the floor yet."
He joined her gaze, a helicopter flying in the distance, accompanied by a lightning strike, so slow, he could see it forming.
"I've spent so many years peering through time, looking at this exact moment. But I can't see past it," She spoke, her voice just as graceful and confident as when they first met. "I've prevented countless terrible futures. And after each one, there's always another. And they all lead here, but never further."
"You think this is where you die." Stephen added, now turning back to look at her.
"You wonder what I see in your future?" She asks,
"No."
She turns to him, clearly not convinced by his answer,
"Yes." He corrects, turning his gaze to the floor.
"I never saw your future, only its possibilities. You have such a capacity for goodness. You always excelled," Stephen was now hanging onto her words, every letter capturing his full attention, "but not because you crave success, but because of your fear of failure."
"It's what made me a great doctor."
"It's precisely what kept you from greatness." It had never occurred to him before, but fearing failure had always controlled his decisions. It was one of the reasons he was so selective about his operations. Not because he couldn't do them, but because he didn't want something so simple, so small to ruin his perfect record, his reputation. "Arrogance and fear still keep you from learning the simplest and most significant lesson of all." She finished
"Which is?"
She now turned to him, "It's not about you."
That struck something in him. He had felt changed with his new experience in Kamar-Taj, but could never pinpoint why he felt like he hadn't embraced it fully. But that was it. Although it was evident Stephen had started to become less conceited, less selfish, the question would always revert back to his hands. How could he heal himself. While factors like (Y/n), Mordo and even Wong were good distractions from his pain, that was all he ever thought about. He was determined to improve his skills not to fulfil his duties as a sorcerer, but to return to his old life.
"When you first came to me, you asked me how I was able to heal Jonathan Pangborn. I didn't. He channels dimensional energy directly into his own body." She spoke while she was watching the veins of electricity trickle down from the sky again.
"He uses magic to walk." Strange added in realisation.
"Constantly. He had a choice: to return to his own life, or to serve something greater than himself."
"So, I could have my hands back again? My old life?" He asked, looking to her for any sort of hint in her expression, which she kept turned away.
"You could." She paused, "And the world would be all the lesser for it. I've hated drawing power from the Dark Dimension, but as you well know, sometimes one must break the rules in order to serve the greater good."
"Mordo won't see it that way." He added, knowing the sorcerer would look down upon this information, no matter how true it may be.
"Mordo's soul is rigid and unmovable, forged by the fires of his youth. He needs your flexibility, and (Y/n)'s, just as you need his strength. (Y/n) will understand, at least it is my hope that she does." She had now turned to Stephen, "She needs your support just as much as you need hers. I see something special between the two of you."
"When you had mentioned, in the sanctuary, that you feared (Y/n) would get lost..." He started,
"She wields more power than just the mystic arts. Her mother was an Enchanter. And while I told her that was just a silly nickname we gave her mother for her impeccable casting abilities, it was true. She had feared she would pass this onto her daughter, so a suppression spell was cast over her just weeks after she was born, in order to protect her. But I fear it is too late, and the spell has worn off with age. She will need your help guiding her through it."
"But I don't know anything.."
"But you will. Only together do you stand a chance of stopping Dormammu."
"I'm not ready." His voice was low, nervousness creeping in.
"No one ever is." She sighed, "We don't choose our time." She moved to grab Stephen's hand, a gentle yet reassuring squeeze filling his palm. "Death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered, your time is short. You'd think after all this time I'd be ready. But look at me: Stretching one moment out into a thousand, just so I can watch the snow."
He turned his gaze to watch the lightning slowly creep across the sky, snow starting to fall. His eyes were now glossy, holding back tears as he watched the spectacle unfold before him. And just as he felt her let go of his hand, he turned to his side, and she was gone.
Honestly, mad words of wisdom right there. She will be missed.
Until next time <3
YOU ARE READING
Enchanting Sparks | (Doctor Strange x Female!Reader)
Fanfiction(Y/n) was only 8 when she was brought into the world of the mystic arts. When her path crosses that of Stephen Strange 20 years later, they soon realise just how important they are to each other. But everyone has their secrets, and mysterious pasts...
