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Mordo and Amber stood side by side, watching as Stephen inspect the room, seeming stupefied at everything. Two students quickly approached him, stripping him from his coat and luggage.
"Thank you" He stuttered, peering over to a man in a chair before staring at a woman handing him a cup and filling it with tea. "Oh, thank you. Uh, thank you, Ancient One, for seeing—"
The man reading at the table stood up, tucked his book beneath his arm and walked away. Stephen's words trailed off as he became confused.
"You're very welcome." The woman in front of him answered with a smile, surprising him.
Stephen looked over his shoulder towards Mordo and Amber, who bowed their heads in response. "The Ancient One," Mordo confirmed, holding out a hand.
"Thank you, Master Mordo and Amber, thank you Master Hamir." She called as Hamir left while Mordo and Amber stood at the edge of the room.
"Mister Strange," the Ancient One introduced, letting out a breath.
Stephen blinked in slight annoyance, correcting her. "Doctor, actually." He brought the cup to his chapped lips, appreciating the moister it brought to his once dry throat and mouth.
"Well, no, not anymore, surely. Isn't that why you're here? You've undergone many procedures. Seven, right?" She airily asked, walking away to prepare three more cups of tea.
"Yeah. It's...good tea." He replied woodenly, looking down at it before studying her actions. Looking over to the two behind him once more, they stared back at him in silence, quite amused with his awkwardness so far. "Did you heal a man named Pangborn? Paralyzed man?"
"In a way." The Ancient One replied, not looking up.
"You helped him to walk again."
"Yes." She answered quickly with a curt nod, briefly glancing up at him.
"How did you correct a complete C7-C8 spinal cord injury?" Stephen demanded, approaching her in long strides. He longed to get back to the hospital, saving lives by the tips of his fingers.
"Well, I didn't correct it," She rebutted, stirring the tea with gentle movements. "He couldn't walk. I convinced him that he could."
"You're not suggesting it was psychosomatic?" He asked, disconcerted even from the mention of it.
"When you reattach the severed nerve, is it you who heals it back together, or the body?" She questioned back, continually stirring.
"It's the cells." He responded, knowing this like the back of his hand.
"And the cells are only programmed to put themselves back together in very specific ways." The Ancient One tapped the spoon on the rim of the cup.
