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ay0nha · 2 years ago

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The Strange Policy | Stephen Strange

Pairing: surgeon!Stephen Strange x nurse!femme!reader

Word Count: 5K

A/N: I watched When Harry Met Sally and got inspired and in my feels. This is a product of that and it’s also my take on the “there's only one-bed” trope. This is also my first Stephen smut so be gentle....might do an angsty part two, but ZERO promises. Enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), mentions of wounds/cuts/etc, doctor stuff, vague ass stuff, lack of medical knowledge, cringey fluff, etc.

"Did I wake you?"

She hummed briefly, debating lying but sighing out the truth, "You know I don't sleep."

"You sleep more than I do," His laugh was breathy, revealing his fatigue, "What are you doing?"

"Watching When Harry Met Sally."

Her chin was working its way down to her chest as she slumped further into her bed. She filtered through the channels, nothing grabbing her withering attention. But then there it was.

Maybe it was the fall leaves she was desperate to have over the snow that taken over that drew her in or maybe it was the nostalgia tied to it, either way, it filled her with something that she was happy Stephen's call interrupted.

"Really?" There was his superficial judgment she was looking for. In an odd way, it grounded her, always a good reminder to not take too things seriously. That was only when it wasn't getting on her nerves.

Her tone was dull as she answered, "Really."

She could picture him now, his posture slightly hunched to reach the phone while he rubbed his recently discarded cap off his head and through his hair. His mind was probably still in the operating room already critiquing his technically perfect operation.

If she wasn't in the room with her, he'd always call her after. He'd give her the play-by-play of what happened, down to the music choice. She preferred to be in the O.R. with him, no longer dreading it like she once had.

She could appreciate the way he worked. It was clinical for a purpose, but under all of that, she loved the way she'd inadvertently become his good luck charm. It was the first and last time she'd complimented him on his procedure methods. From there forward, he'd offer her a wink before picking up his scalpel. It was a joke at first, but it stuck like honey due to his superstition and genuine amusement.

"Do you agree?"

"With what?" She mumbled, watching as the movie had another five-year time skip. New York was always so romanticized in the movies, only showing the beautiful love-filled parts. Perhaps, that's what it truly did look like for someone in love.

"That men and women can never be friends because the sex part always gets in the way."

He could feel her laugh on the other end all the way down to his toes. That or it was the exhaustion catching up to him.

"You clearly do with that 'Strange Policy' and all," She smiled lightly, loving teasing him about the unofficial rule Palmer had created for Metro-General. One that she knew was in place not for his lack of trying.

"That doesn't answer my question," He tutted softly. She could feel his smirk from the other end, knowing her answer was contrary to his and how he loved to pick it apart. He lived to challenge her but loved when she challenged him as she was one of the few who succeeded in doing so.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

---

They had met years ago, yet if you asked Stephen at the time he would have said he'd never met her. She was his scrub nurse of a handful of years and yet he had failed to learn her name, too concerned over his ego to care.

It wasn't until a fateful New Year's Eve. There was always the press at the door, waiting for the New Year's Eve babies. Along with the numerous alcohol-fueled accidents that fit in just before midnight. Then there were the patients that had been in their beds for months, the ones that needed constant care even during the busiest nights.

Sure, the pay was slightly better, but there wasn't enough monetary compensation to give to make up for what the nurses endured on the holiday. The work was demanding, but the doctors were even more so. The doctors were always on edge, but the holiday brought out a completely other side to them. Accident reports were their worst enemy, but it was the unorthodox olive branch between the doctor and the nurse.

"They got you good," Stephen spoke softly to match the quietness of the room. His headlamp was bright in her eyes as she tried to pull away from him and the utensils he was too quick to pull out.

"It wasn't her fault," Her response held bitterness. Her head was throbbing from the bedpan that had been thrown at her. It was yet another nightmare story to add to her repertoire.

"Shouldn't need stitches," He continued his examination on the small flesh wound above her eyebrow, dabbing it with the iodine swab.

She grew jittery on the parchment paper of the exam chair. The entire thing was uncomfortable from its start. Stephen had walked in on her disinfecting her cut, thinking he was one of the only ones left. She tried to be discreet about it, but he was criticizing her methods before she knew what was happening.

"I know that."

"It's a superficial wound at best-

"I know."

"You seem to know a lot," He hummed while removing his gloves for a fresh pair. He was nothing but thorough. Then he looked down at her scrubs to add, "You're not a doctor on this floor, are you?"

Her laugh was anything but genuine. In hindsight, she could see how his question was actual, but the struggles of the night overwhelmed her and took her sense of humor with it.

She went to speak but his voice was louder, "I work this holiday every year-

"So do I-

"How come I've never seen you?"

"Look, Dr. Strange-

"You know me?" His charm was instantaneous, asking the ego-filled question with delight. He read her face quickly understanding the double meaning of the conversation, "Am I supposed to know you?"

She eyed him, trying hard to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his smugness drove her, "Ask me for a scalpel."

He paused his action for a moment, a confused laugh threatening to break his perfect bandage application, "What?"

She insisted, remaining still until he pulled away from her again, checking his handiwork. It looked seamlessly put back together, some of his best work, "Come on, ask me."

He'd bite.

"Pass me the 10-blade." It depended on the surgery and she hadn't been specific. Therefore, he went for the safe, generic choice. One he rarely used due to the higher-powered tools it took to get inside of someone's head.

"10-blade." Her tone was mocking and he finally understood why.

He hadn't realized she was the hands behind him tying his medical gown. It wasn't a part of his routine to pay attention. He was too immersed in running through the surgery ahead of him trying to push away the feeling of pressure to hold up perfection. There were always more people in his room, all the students pushing and shoving each other behind the glass wall in hopes they'd be able to catch Stephen's free hand something.

Yet, he never realized she was front row to all of it.

---

She had a love-hate relationship with hospitals. She thought they were always too bright with a bleak atmosphere. There were phones constantly ringing, monitors always beeping, people coughing all of the air out of themselves; everything too overwhelming to the senses. Yet, she loved everything about it even down to the paperwork.

It was therapeutic for her, something to keep her hands busy and give her a breather from the constant social interactions of her position. It was a moment she'd have for herself that she usually spent contently alone.

"You seem tired."

A coffee cup now sat on the line she was supposed to use to record her notes. She followed it up to be met with Stephen, an identical cup in his own hand. This was new.

"We don't have that thrombectomy until 12," Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion all the while ignoring his unintentional insult.

"I know," He took her response as an invitation to join her, pulling the chair next to her away from the table for himself, "We've got some time to kill."

It took him a few weeks to warm up to the idea he was in the wrong for not recognizing her. But once he did their conversation flowed more smoothly. It remained professional, cordial even, but it was no longer in the nonexistent territory. Something he couldn't stand.

"Did you always want to be a nurse?"

"What is this?" She looked between the coffee and him, suspicion settling instantly. The last thing she wanted was someone else workload passed off on her on mile high stack.

"What? Don't blame me for trying to get to know the person who hands me blades..." He teased only to receive a glare. He copied her squint slightly in further jest to ask, "Too soon?"

It was the first time his humor had caused the smallest of smiles to appear on her face. She wasn't sure what about it let him wedge his way into her life she so desperately wanted to separate from him, but figuring out that she preferred her coffee black with a lot of sugar helped.

It helped start a routine, something both doctors and nurses thrived off of. Usually, Stephen's break would have a slight overlap with hers, not always, but day by day it seemed as if it was happening more frequently. So frequently, Stephen had begun waiting at the nurse's station for her to come out of the last thing she'd been doing.

"Loitering again, Dr. Strange?" Her voice startled him slightly, her hand coming to touch the back of his arm to move past him more easily. It was fleeting, but it was deliberate.

Sometimes their finger brushed in the O.R., but there was always gloves covering the touch. His skin pricked as if she'd shocked him. He wasn't used to touch in that way, let alone accepting it, but it felt different from her. It was like his senses had become heightened to how closely she was now standing to him. He watched her as she sorted her charts like she always had mindlessly chatting with him about something unrelated.

But Stephen hadn't heard a word, too focused on how she was careless with her movements, no longer thinking or moving away if they touched. It was like they had passed an unspoken milestone. One that made Stephen's confidence falter for just a moment.

"Can't do coffee today," She muttered, but Stephen finally and fully picked up on what she said. He ignored the rest of her reasoning due to simply not wanting to hear it, "I'm going to-

"I noticed on the schedule you get off at eight," He continued despite her still speaking, "I was thinking-

"You do a lot of that," She stopped him before he could start. She'd evaded it skillfully the past few times, not usually one to mix business and pleasure, but Stephen was nothing but persistent.

"Dinner."

"Dr. Strange-

"My treat."

"Dr. Strange-

"Stephen."

If there were lingering nurses near them, they all stopped what they were doing, eyes and ears intended on hearing what was happening between the two. Stephen was notorious for his wit, but not entirely for his flirtatious side. It caught everyone in the room off guard.

However, she wasn't buying any of it for a moment, "What's your motive?"

He couldn't help but smile, "Didn't realize I murdered someone."

---

It was cold out again, a few winters later.

She had finally gotten a moment to herself where she could strip herself of the scrubs she had on for over twelve hours, shower to wash off other people's bodily fluids, and get off her aching feet to give her back a break.

The beds were never comfortable in the on-call room, but they fulfilled their purpose.

She was fast asleep when she felt the bed dip. She turned slightly, thinking it was someone else trying to hoist themselves to the bunk above her. Soon enough, she'd slip back under into slumber. But, she felt the scratchy blanket being pulled from her shoulders pulling her further from the state she wanted to be in.

"Move over," The voice was deep, but undoubtedly belonged to the head of neurosurgery.

She groaned lightly, something resembling a disappointed whine, "Get your own bed, I've finally got a break."

"I've got surgery in an hour," He said pushing himself further into the twin-sized space, "And the other beds are taken-

"Fine." She hadn't allowed him to protest further. She couldn't care about anything else, desperate for sleep to chase away exhaustion. However, his sterile smell overwhelmed her quickly, pushing her to whisper once more, "Where'd you come from?"

"Craniotomy," He moved around more, looking for the most comfortable spot to lay.

She could only hum in acknowledgment, barely able to really process what he was really saying.

He continued, mind still buzzing from it. He thought it was a routine procedure, but once he saw the grey matter, it became much more complicated. He explained every detail to her, his volume increasing slightly with excitement, "You should have been there..."

"Sounds interesting..." Her response was on instinct. She knew he'd be talking about the surgery until the next big one came along and she'd be filled in on the details more than once.

However, what she truly neglected to get from his elation was how much more he was trying, in his own way, to convey to her.

"There's this other case I've been trying to get, I need your help on it," He said, turning on his side to face her better, "Maybe if you talk to the mom she'll sign off on-

"Hey, Stephen," She mumbled straight into the now shared pillow, "I'm going to go back to sleep now."

Stephen. He melted at the sentiment of just his name coming from her lips. It usually bothered him when his title wasn't used and he found joy in correcting people. However, whenever she called out for him. Dr. Strange. It was always so cold, ironically both clinical and cynical.

"Right, right," He apologized briefly.

He shuffled more in his spot, pressed against her with ease. It was just how she was; always a sense of ease radiating from her. Stephen liked to think she heard him. He could say anything to her. He could just be himself. It all felt easy.

"Your watch is digging into my back," Her voice was still soft as she turned back to him. She pulled at his wrist until his arm was over her, creating more space for the two to be more comfortable squashed in.

The complaint was a disguise to take advantage of his warmth. Stephen loved when it was cold out because that meant her touches always lingered. This, though, was entirely different as his arms encased her completely. It was like she could finally shake off the chill on her bones.

His frame perfectly covered her, his body looking like the only one in the bed. An outsider would have difficulty seeing her in front of him as she was almost to the wall. It didn't matter if anyone saw them, everyone knew by now they functioned as a unit. If there was one, the other wasn't far behind.

"Did you see the snow out?" He all but mumbled into her shoulder. He knew she wouldn't be asleep for a little while longer, maybe not even at all.

"Mhmm," She nodded, her muscles relaxing into him, "We're supposed to get a few inches tonight."

"Did you get your tree yet?" He added before too much of a pause happened.

"Stephen-

"I know you haven't," He continued his thought, "Let's pick it up tonight before we get snowed in and-

"I'll get it on my day off," She groaned, shifting in his arms to face him. Her eyes were still shut meaning she missed how his eyes were studying her face.

It was a bold move on his part to pull her to him, but he was no sense of shyness in the hold. Neither would admit it, but they missed each other throughout the day.

"Let's just get it tonight," He insisted, wanting an excuse to spend more time with her, "I passed a place today they have those scrawny ones you like-

"You're going to wake up the whole room with all your Christmas spirit," She mused, body turning to face him the conversation pulling her completely from slumber. She didn't mind, too focused on how Stephen's fingers became bold as they trailed rhythmically up and down her spine.

His smile was that of a child, "So is that a yes?

Her lips tugged, "Of course."

---

"Did I lose you?"

"Hmm?" Her eyelids were becoming heavy, but she was in no mood to fall asleep. The relaxation was too good to.

"You're not falling asleep are you?" He quipped. He was starting to feel antsy in his spot, ready to leave the hospital but hanging onto her every word.

"Can't," She started, eye focusing intently on the screen in front of her, "How will I find out if they get together in the end?"

"Don't be ridiculous, they always get together in the end."

"Always a cynic."

"Oh come on now, don't be upset," He wanted to hear her voice once more before their call ended, "...Look, I'll make it up to you...I can pick up some of those noodles you love-

"With the extra sauce?" She asked, falling for the obvious trap.

It was routine at this point, a good way to debrief from the day. It was easy to be sucked into the hospital 24/7. The late-night food after a grueling shift was always the cure and as Stephen put it doctor recommended.

"With the extra sauce," He promised.

From the moment he left the hospital to the moment he left with the warm meal, he was ecstatic. Stephen chalked it up to hunger and seeking warmth. On his way over it seemed everything reminded him of her from the dainty Christmas trees in the shop windows to the people bundled up with warm drinks, making each step he made more assured than the last.

Once he made it to her door, Stephen balanced the food steadily in one hand while the other felt blindly on top of her door frame until he hit her spare key. Entering her home was always a simple action, a ritual Stephen loved.

Firstly, he'd place the key back in its spot for the next time he'd need to use it. Then, there were the dim lights of her place always on in a way that would lead him down the hall to her room. Her home contrasted his in such a clear way. Everything in her home once belongs to someone else but was put together in a way that was uniquely hers. Each piece in his home was custom made to be only his and he paid generously to make sure. Hers was warm and inviting while his was lavish and desolate.

"Good I made it just in time for the end," His sarcasm was palpable as he push his shoes off one by one while announcing his presence.

"For a second there, I thought you might have gotten lost," She joked, sitting up to accept the warm food he passed to her, "...Thank you."

Mumbling a quick you're welcome, Stephen propped himself up just how he'd found her. What Stephen had really come for was her bed. It was smaller than his, but the memory foam was unmatched. His legs were stretched out in front of him, ankles cross while his hands lay comfortably on his chest. In only a matter of moments, his breathing steadied to that of someone in a deep slumber.

Surgeons liked to think they were invincible, that they could fight sleep better than any other person. However, with the perfect concoction of low lights, a comfortable bed, and a working radiator, sleep became instant and irresistible.

She went to speak to him but closed her mouth once she saw how his head drooped to the side. The entire thing felt out of place, but she wouldn't want it any other way. The two had created a bond that she never thought she'd hold so dearly to her heart. Neither of them was blind to how the other grew fonder by the day. But there was always the doubt of lack of reciprocation or the fear of ruining what had taken time to build.

"You crying?" Stephen mumbled as he adjust his spot by moving on his side, palms together and hands under his cheek as he gave her a once over realizing she actually was.

Her head stayed positioned forward, watching how the two protagonists finally understood the other, "Go back to sleep."

"C'mon now, don't cry," He studied her unable to catch her true feelings. Tears from her, good or bad, held his attention. Stephen moved to her quickly as the laughter started to bubble in his chest, "He gets the girl in the end."

"That's not the point."

They both knew what she was talking about, the setting all too domestic to not. He now used his thumb to catch any remaining stray tears, "I think that's the whole point."

Neither could remember how their faces gravitated towards each other, but it was most likely due to how his thumb was to her lip, an eye trained to where he'd just traced. It was a preface to how their lips connected: quiet and barely there, a tender peck as if to console her, and something innocent. Then he pecked her once more slightly less tentative and less friendly. It wasn't until the third she melted into his touch, reciprocating the same level if not more emotion.

He used his body weight as leverage as he now was pressed above her. He was warm, filling her senses with his scent as he stared at her ear and nibbled his way down to where her shirt had lifted. He was languid in his movements. Giving her every moment to savor the feeling of holding each other this close.

Stephen leaned back, pulling the hem of his shirt over his head before tossing it aside, giving her the time to do it for herself. The two took their time to be settled between each other until Stephen's hands slid down her now bare stomach. One hand went to grip her thigh, while the other sandwiched itself in the space between her pelvis and his. His fingertips could already feel the heat radiating from her clothed core.

"Your hands are always so cold," He mumbled against her neck, feeling how her hands trailed his chest to get to his sides.

It had almost distracted him from the journey his fingers were on. However, Stephen's eyes were latched to hers, exploring the interaction in every sense as their lips tangled again. He tapped two fingers against the soaking fabric, happy with the way it caused her to squirm breathlessly.

He pulled away from her lips, but stayed close, ghosting his mouth over hers to say, "Will you let me taste you?"

Her stomach tingled at his bluntness, only fueling his conviction.

She'd never felt like this before. She didn't know that she could feel an ache so deep inside her and be so completely aware that the only cure for it is the touch of another person. A specific person. At this moment, she felt like he was her person.

But before she could reply with anything, Stephen pushed aside her underwear and pushed his fingers as deep as he could. The relief she found was instantaneous. A breathless sigh slipped past her lips as he rubbed over her folds, delighted with the fluttering breaths she was letting out.

Despite the tension building up in her body, this is the most relaxed she'd felt in days. The attention he was paying to her body was like no other. Stephen knew how her core was soon going to convulse in the most delightfully sinful way, making him harder than he'd think was ever possible. He wanted to feel her completely and wholly, but he needed to see how he could make her feel with just his hands. He wanted a taste, he wanted to hold, he wanted to suck, he wanted to bite, he wanted to squeeze, he wanted to do anything and everything that had to do with her.

She, though, all she wanted was for Stephen to fill her up so completely that she'd be feeling him for days, "Stephen..."

It went quick, his movements stopping, leaving her empty, and pulling back. She worried that it was time to come to their senses, but before she could finish her thought she could feel Stephen's wet kisses on her thighs. He was craving her at this point, selfishly not being able to give her what she was asking for. He kissed the inside of her thigh once more as he gets settled in between them pulling her underwear off so his arms could hook around both thighs to pull her closer.

Her hips twitched in the slightest movement, and Stephen's eyes darted up to hers for a moment before he dove in. He was teasing her and it was borderline painful the way he slowly kissed every part of her that ached for him.

Her lips parted, eyes shutting in pure bliss as he got to work, lips closing in on her clit to gently suck. Then, his still warm fingers returned to work in and out of her like no tomorrow, she was sure to be done in minutes. He continued to skillfully work his mouth and fingers in her heat as she moaned deeply, beginning to see stars and feel warm.

As predicted, it didn't take long for Stephen to coax her through and down from a powerful orgasm. He coaxed her through it all from the high and back down, settling his cheek against her thigh in a tender hold as he watched her catch her breath.

Once it was still again, Stephen smiled to himself; pleased with her pleasure. He was ready to dive in for more, wanting to feel again how her fingers tugged his hair tenderly. But she couldn't help but beg him again, "Stephen, please."

Her wish was his command. Especially when she said his name the way she did. Stephen got pleasure in her pleasure, so now as her legs were spread wide open just for him, it was his absolute bliss.

"Let's just go slow," Stephen managed through a confident breath, regaining his composure. Slow. His voice became lustful with his last word, just how she wanted it to. However, he wasted no time kicking the rest of his clothes to the side so he could drag his tip along her slick core.

He guided himself to spread her open, circling around her clit making her walls flutter as he then pressed further. She could feel how his breath fanned against her neck, causing her to shiver. The feeling heightened when Stephen relaxed completely into her, causing them both to groan at the sensation of how her body instinctively reacted with a soft clench.

The moment he filled her for the first time, there was a feeling of completeness that she'd been missing. She needed this, she thought. She needed to be stretched, to be filled. She meant to hold her in her mewl, but she only had so much control when she was underneath Stephen.

Yet, Stephen based everything on her as he asked, "This okay? Do you want me to stop?"

"God, no."

Neither admitted it to the other, but it had been a long time for both to be in the position with anyone. Their pleasure was quickly building as Stephen began to push his hips towards her finding the perfect rhythm within a few thrusts.

“Right there, Stephen,” She whispered, “Oh, right there.”

Her tone's softness was making his head dizzy. She'd only imagined this moment, craving to know how it felt to be with him as closely as they were. The moment finally solidified how the two grew exponentially fond of each other. It made all of her previous experience pale in comparison. She had never moved so in tandem with someone who held nothing but her best interests at heart.

She wanted to stay in the moment forever feeling the way he perfectly dragged through her to only return with such fervor. However, she could feel his tip pulsate inside of her as his thrust became sloppy and his breath low. She couldn't help but repeat his name, again and again, each time her voice sounded desperate. He groaned in response as she felt the hum throughout her entire body, vibrations sent straight to her core.

"Stephen," Her voice an octave higher, her hips eagerly chasing his movements. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, her name leaving his lips in a heavy breath.

"That’s it," He encouraged on her lips. She wasn't sure she could get anything out but moans much to his pleasure. His thrusts were becoming deeper, never missing that spot that was rarely explored.

Anything out of her mouth resembled a whimper, "You f-feel so good."

Stephen was trying hard to last as long as he could, but with one flex of her muscles, he was a moaning mess on top of her as he finished inside of her. Stephen collapsed on top of her, his heart pounding out of his chest. He wasn't sure if it was through passion or embarrassment.

"Sorry I just-

"You're alright," She spoke over his confession with honesty. She loved the feeling, being able to feel him, and how she now had something of his to hold onto which prompted her to say, "Let's just stay like this for a moment."

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ay0nha · 2 years ago

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Fate’s Sacrifice | Stephen Strange (Request)

Request: “reader doesn’t remember that she’s with stephen and he has to basically help her get her memories back”

Pairing: Stephen Strange x femme!reader

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST AND YOUR PATIENCE. The reason this stayed in my drafts was because I thought I was too vague, too wordy, couldn’t think of a title, and started a story line I didn’t know how to finish that strayed from the request sorry lol. Plus I’m a sucker for Stephen being in doctor mode, sue me.

If anyone has a better title name lmk.

Enjoy.

She had no dreams. At least ones she could remember. It was like her body was protecting her from seeing things that she shouldn't see. It was like they were always on the tip of her tongue, a small semblance to let her know there was something there, just deeply hidden.

Yet, there was always a feeling there; a feeling of someone familiar.

"This is the third time this month, Stephen, it should not go on," The voice spoke softly, but the threat was unmistakable. However, the voice wavered the more it revealed, "You're torturing her."

"Do not-" The other voice raised through emotion he clearly tried to hold back, "This is what she wanted."

"It's not right," The other voice was gruff, unwilling to budge.

"And you think I enjoy this?"

"It doesn't help that you keep scrambling her brain."

"They're coming after her, this is the only way to keep her out of this," Stephen all but bellowed, a volume he rarely took with his companion, "She's a sitting duck without our help."

"We cannot intervene."

She thought that maybe she had finally been able to dream, but with the warmth from the crackling ring above her, she knew she was fully awake. She looked into a room that wasn't hers where two men stood firmly arguing. Beside them a young girl with a look of worry on her face as she frantically tried to close the portal in front of her.

"Stephen-

"Not now, America," He hadn't bothered to look at what she needed him to, only continuing his arguing.

"Stephen-

There was something pulling her forward. Something that caused her to quietly move until her bed sheets were no longer tangled around her ankles. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she stepped through the portal, refusing to blink too afraid the image in front of her would disappear.

The atmosphere was cold and it could be felt deep in her bones. It was like coming home to an empty house that needed some warmth. That needed her.

"Sorry, I just..." The insincere apology tumbled out of her mouth because it was the only thing she could think of to fill the silence that fell over the others that stared back at her.

She knew this was far from a dream. It was happening more often when she'd wake up hearing a soft crackling. Living in a city warranted strange noises happening all the time, but this one felt distinct. She could pick it out with ease. It was like a pet scratching at her door that just wouldn't leave her alone.

Then there were the other times. They were always small openings where only she could see to the other side and see who had conjured the ring, but it was never big enough. Soon she learned about the novice on the other side, but she'd never been this close to crossing over to the other side. She knew at a moment like this it wasn't a good idea to go through the mysterious portal, especially when it had closed behind her, taking her only escape away from her.

"You cannot be here," One of the men spoke to her, pushing the two others behind him as he took her by the arm to escort her out, "This is no place for you."

"I-I-

"It was my fault, Wong," The young girl went running after him, "Every once and while when I you know," She held up her hand pretending to open yet another portal, "It's her on the other side..."

America was confused by Wong's demeanor. He was far more patient with her learning than Stephen was. She wasn't sure who the woman was or why she had rattled the two others so much, but she learned in her few months of training to never question the universe.

However, Stephen always did, particularly when it involved her.

---

"We've got to stop meeting like this, Dr. Strange," Her smile blew wide at seeing him on the other end. It was rare for his portals to open to her. The pull was usually exclusive to America or even on a unusual occasion, Wong.

His voice was dull, full of feigned annoyance as he saw her on the other side, "You've got to stop being an anomaly."

At least that's what Stephen called her. It was the easiest way to explain to her why the sanctum always willed her back. It wasn't all a lie, but it wasn't even close to the truth. It also helped mask his own confusion as to why his spell didn't seem to stick the way it was suppose to.

However, it was still what prevented her from connecting her past to the man standing before her, "When are you going to let me help figure that out?"

"You're going to get me in trouble with Wong," He tutted characteristically as if trying to ignore his own desire to welcome her help.

"I think you manage to do that on your own," She stretched out her hand, seeking his to help her into the Sanctum side of the portal.

He missed her wit. He missed everything about her and it felt like a piece of him died every time she returned. Her presence never angered him, but he needed to keep a facade to keep her at arms length.

When he reached halfway forward to help her through, he finally noticed her surroundings, questioning it immediately. It differed from her usual environments, "How did you get here?"

"What?" She looked behind her to the place she'd just left. It was like she had just blinked back into consciousness, not even realizing where she was herself.

Once Stephen had her securely behind him, he peered over the ring again. It was dark and cold, seemingly cavernous, but it was no doubt a deep, forgotten part of the subway. The echoing drips were the only thing that could be heard and it was too dark to really see anything beyond what the ring of light the portal provided.

"What is this place?" Stephen asked, feeling the cool draft that almost made him step further to investigate. As much as he liked to claim he was all knowing, he had yet to come across something quite like this.

Her eyes seemed hesitant to answer, like she wasn't sure herself or too scared to reveal how the place made her feel. His eyes studied her face, understanding almost instantaneously what had happened, but he didn't give her a moment to catch up to his actualization.

"How did you get there?" His finger pointed harshly to the opposite end. His look turned just as harsh, trying to make sense of the woman who stood before him.

"What do you mean?" She instinctively turned defensive, stepping back from him. It was as if she was moving away from him entirely, as if in a moments notice he'd reach for her with a malicious intent and leave her where she had shown up from.

His eyes softened for a moment as he stepped forward to meet her back within the Sanctum, trying to ease any anxiety she held, "Do you know what this place is?"

"Should I?"

"It's-

"Stephen!" The two flinched like teenagers being caught sneaking in past their curfew. Wong bound towards them with determination, "Close that, now."

Without hesitation, the portal was no longer.

"Look-" Stephen attempted to squash any misunderstanding, but Wong had already cut him off with a caution of his own.

"I have warned you against this-

"Wong, this wasn't intentional-

"You are not supposed to bring her-

"I didn't, she was already there."

Wong paused, recognizing the doctor's veracity. The entire situation bothered him. From the start his advice was never followed. He wanted the best for her, but there was only so much the two in front of him would agree with at the time. Now, he understood just how much of a necessity it was to have their lives so intertwined. The universe was making that plain to see, even if it defying the natural order of things.

"How long has that been going on?" Wong's attention finally turned towards her, interest peeked in worry.

They teetered around the topic, but never held back with the interrogation. It never failed to make her waver.

"I-I don't know," Her words stumbled out as she tried to find her voice and offer the truth.

Her eyebrows furrowed in her own confusion. Her mind felt foggy when she went to think back on it. She struggled to remember how she had gotten there. Minute by minute, the more unsettled she became.

"She isn't safe," Stephen's voice was low and held a new tone full of protectiveness, "She should be here."

Wong looked at him in agreement, but didn't dare let the words pass his lips. He looked between the two before saying, "Just leave me out of this."

She hoped to take advantage of finally spending longer than a handful of minutes in the sanctum, but she struggled. She felt like she was floating throughout the rest of the day. Anything that was said to her felt lost upon her. Everything seemed dulled and far from her touch. All of her senses followed suit. It felt like a fever dream, where she wasn't all there, but neither were her surroundings.

The building was mystical, but something felt different when she entered. It felt like the building was living and breathing on it's own. The drafts within felt like small whispers to her that she strove to decipher. Her daze only broke when a pitched noise pierced the silence and caused her ears to ring. She followed the sound to it's source and stared into the deep red of it's center. She thought if she reached forward and touched the deep red relic she'd find her answers

"Don’t!"

She hissed back in pain, her hand feeling a burning sensation in it's wake. She pulled her hand to her chest when Stephen stepped closer to inspect the damage. He wanted to say more, reprimand her to trying to touch the ancient item, but it worried him more the way fear had settled in her eyes.

"What was that?"

"The relics are..." Stephen knew what her question really meant, but he navigated expertly around providing her the answer she actually wanted. He drew in a breath of explanation, "Finicky things...you never really know if you'll get along or not."

"Right..." Her confusion stayed present on her face and her eyes were anywhere but his. Stephen could see turmoil behind her expression. It was yet another unknown that would keep him up at night.

"Are you alright?" He reached for her hand to see any remnants of the burn. It was a selfish move on his part, but he was just desperate to have her close.

She stayed quiet, waiting a beat to gather herself. Stephen bite his tongue for the moment, waiting for her to answer, but he could see the red of her hand and how one wrong move would have her running for the hills.

His eyes were cast down as he inspected her hand, but the flickered up briefly while he asked his question, "Where did you go?"

Stephen wanted to know where her mind was in it's fragile state. It hadn't gotten past him that she had been off. The thousand-yard-stare gave it away and stayed throughout the time she'd been under the same roof as him.

On instinct, he wanted to blame himself. But just as fast he wanted to find the easy solution. Yet, both would need to wait, her state too delicate to be tampered with.

She shook her head like trying rid anything lingering in her mind, "Nowhere."

Stephen didn't push further as he conjured up things to help relieve the pain of the mystical burn. It truly wasn't bad, nothing a few days wouldn't clear up. But he needed to know his care would help her. It was the closest he could get to feeling useful to her.

"You’re a doctor, right?" She spoke quietly, afraid to break Stephen's concentration, "I mean, well, before this."

"Yes."

With his thumb, Stephen held the gauze down on her wrist. After a few circles around her wrist, he brought it across her palm, passing her thumb, and around the back of her hand. Then he held onto the tips of her fingers before he passed the white fabric along her thumb again creating a cross and followed this pattern a few times to secure the burn.

She added lighten to the conversation as she joked, "I've yet to see the credentials."

The process of wrapping her hand was like muscle memory; something innate within him to care for her. He slowly took his time to place everything perfectly secure, as if savoring the moment before pulling his diploma out of thin air.

"So readily available," She teased further. Holding it in her available hand, her eyes filtered over the paper, "This happen often?"

"What? That people ask me to prove I'm a doctor?" His sarcasm came back naturally. She nodded, her smile becoming teasing to mirror his, "No, just you."

It was almost identical to how she had first asked him all those years ago. Her curiosity never ceased. And currently, she looked at him like she hadn't forgotten him completely.

She recognized the way he looked at her, like he saw her a certain way others didn't. She wanted to question it, but there was also a plea she recognized in his countenance. One that begged her to just remain present for just a moment longer.

"I have this feeling that Wong hates me." The statement rolled off her tongue before she could really think of another way to phrase what was eating at her.

On the contrary. Wong and her had been close friends, long before Stephen had ever shown up on the doorstep of the Kamar-Taj. The two were thick as thieves, getting into all sort of otherworldly trouble. With her around was the only time other than Macau that Stephen had seen him let loose. She was better for everyone.

"He just takes time to warm up to people," Stephen dismissed her slightly, willing any excess items away. It wasn't a wrong assumption as Stephen experienced it first hand, "I've know him all these years and I've only just now moved out of acquaintance territory."

There that feeling was again. That sense of familiarity that would settle comfortably in her chest. It was in that moment that she realized what the common factor of the doctor in front of her. It was as if he'd always known her and always knew how to comfort her with his sense of humor.

"And you?" She watched him just as carefully after the latest thought, "Think we can be friends?"

Stephen eyed her fondly for just a moment before answering, "If fate allows it."

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