I saw in the comments of Damaged man that many wanted a part 2. So here it is!  And there may even be a part three... Comment if you would like a part 3. ^^ Anyways! As always thanks for reading.

The rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, interrupting the peaceful night that had settled over New York just hours ago. Stephen tossed and turned, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as he mumbled incoherent words under his breath. His body shivered from cold, his covers having been tossed to the floor just moments ago.

His mind was restless, an uneasy feeling always settled in the depths of his mind. After you left, his mind became a mess. His nights of peaceful sleep had become nightmares reflecting his mistakes. It had been long after he snapped out of his anger. Memories of when it happened were still fresh in his mind.

The clock on his bedroom ticked again and again, eventually hitting the right hour for him to wake up. Two in the morning, a perfect time for Stephen to be drinking as usual. It had become a habit of his to wake up early and drown his thoughts with some strong drinking. He pulled the covers off him, standing up and making his way to the kitchen as he left his messy bedroom behind.

He had stumbled through the hallway, bumping into things every now and then from the effect of drinking just hours ago.

His arrival to the kitchen had taken some time, but he eventually got there after some struggle. He let out a long and careless yawn, flicking up the switch on the wall next to him and being received by his messy and unkempt kitchen.

The once beautifully designed and arranged kitchen was now loitered around with bottles varying from beer, wine, whiskey, and several other types of alcohol. The sink was floodig with dirty plates, having been too lazy to even think of cleaning up. Piles of paper plates could be found here and there since he had run out of plates really soon.

He opened a cabinet, snatched a new bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass with some ice in it. He took a seat on the only clean and available stool, setting his glass down as he ruffled his hair to undo the appearance of a typical bed head. He picked up his whiskey, downed it in one gulp and set it down with a loud clank on the marble counter.

A groan left his mouth as the strong taste of alcohol went down his throat like a burning flame. He hated it, yet he found himself loving it also. The bitter taste would stay in his throat for hours, aching and reminding him of all the drinking he has gone. But that is what he enjoyed about it. The bitter taste made him forget everything else. Like an escale to reality.

He didn't hesitate to pour some more in his glass, his eyes closing for a moment as he cleared his throat. His throat ached from the taste, his body practically screaming at him to stop drinking for once and for all.

He ignored it as usually, about to down his whiskey once again when he suddenly froze in place. His hand shot up to his mouth, covering it as he stood and stumbled back on his steps quickly. His other hand opened up immediately and his drink fell to the floor, landing with a loud crash as pieces of glass scattered everywhere.

His eyes were wide, extreme terror present on his expression as he uncovered his mouth. "Wh-What have I done?" His raspy voice whispered to no one in particular as he continued taking steps back. His eyes were darting around, spotting every single bottle of alcohol that had been laying around for months.

His eyesight blurred, making him realize how quickly he was breathing. His chest heaved up and down at an increidbly fast place, his lungs trying to get the sufficient oxygen needed to continue working correctly. His mind started racing, terror flooding his veins as he only looked around frantically.

He had never gone through one ever in his life, he had only heard of it and even see people having one. He would scoff and wonder with irritation why people always got so scared when they faced one. But oh how wrong he had been, thinking it was stupid how people reacted when they were facing one.

If someone ever asked him what he was feeling, he would have such difficulty in explaining what the hell was going on with him. Everything was so sudden and confusing that he didn't realize he was having an anxiety attack until later on, when he could think clearly and rationalize.

But right then he had no idea what was going on. He could feel his heart thumping against his chest like the tick of a running clock. He could practically feel how it hard it thumped, like a drummer playing on his drum loudly, making him wake up from the tiredness of his insomnia. The tremble in his hands only worsened as he tried to grab on to something, to hold onto a stable object to assure him he wasn't loosing his grasp with reality.

He stumbled back harshly with big steps. His head hitting the wall harshly as he slid down the wall and brought his legs to his chest, his breathing never decreasing in speed. He shut his eyes tightly, tears brimming at the corner of his eyes as he was suddenly overwhelmed with worry and solitude knowing well no one could help him.

Oh how he wished someone would. Someone to be there to wrap their arms around him to comfort him, speaking assuring words to him. "I am here for you Stephen, everything is alright. Just. Breath" But none of that happened. He had pushed all his friends away from him. He had pushed you away from him and now you were gone. He had been to ignorant and selfish to realize you were the only one he had left that would be there for him.

It took him a while to get to calm down, but he eventually did. He stayed sitting in the same spot, his head down as he looked at the floor as he processed what just happened. He blinked rapidly as the first rays of sun came through his windows, hitting against his face and reminding him a new day had come. He closed his eyes tightly before deciding to stand up, slowly making his way to the living room and standing in front of his wide windows, looking outside.

He admired the city after a long time of keeping himself locked. Away from everyone around him. And in that moment his mind set into something.

He had to find you...

But he had absolutely no idea where you were.

***

Moving on was not easy, but with time, effort and tears shed, you did. You had moved on from Stephen Strange, even though deep below in your heart you still loved him. The bruise he left both in your cheek and heart was slowly disappearing.

After all, moving on is not as simple as it sounds. You still thought about him every now and then, but you only chose to remember the good things about him. You weren't a person to hold a grudge on someone for long. Heck you never held grudges against anyone.

You understood his reasons. You understood why he decided to do what he had done. But even if you had completely forgiven him, you still didn't forget. There were some days where you would sit and think what would happen if you ever saw him again. Would it be awkward? Would it be a joyous greeting? Will he still remember you or would he not?

Stephen Strange had definitely been something different in your life. He had changed it for the better after all. That day... after you sat for a good while in the frontsteps of his building, you stood up and headed home. Or your old home at least since you had just been kicked out of your home with Stephen.

You took a break from your work at the hospital. Not much of a break simce you practically handed in your resign reluctantly, leaving behind what had been your workplace for years.

You didn't say goodbye, you were not seen when you handed in your resign. There was only one person that knew what happened, your friend and the one who received your resign, Mrs. Claire. She had been too kind to even offer you a place that you could rent when she was told you were moving off state. You had to deny, even though it sounded tempting. You just had to start new.

You found yourself wondering why you were moving in the first place. In your lifetime you never thought of leaving the hospital you had worked in. Leaving back your passion in that hospital to move off to another state had never crossed your mind once. Of course, you would find a job in any hospital as soon as you settled in your new home. You would never stop doing what you loved. After all you never left your passion. The problem had been the place.

You didn't want to remember that hospital any time in the future. You wanted to forget what happened in New York. You wanted to forget all those years of having gone to college with Stephen. All those months you both struggled but eventually got your degree as neurosurgeons. All those days you spent together with Stephen in that hospital, saving people's lives every day.

You just wanted to forget him, but even though you had already moved, settled and got a job in another hospital you just couldn't forget. Why was it so hard to forget that man?You couldn't even think of his name without being hit by all those memories! This fact would sometimes make you cry for not knowing what to do. You felt like a lost puppie, looking for an owner and a home. You sometimes felt as if you did the wrong thing. Maybe you should-

"Doctor (L/N), we need you in operating room 5." Interrupted your thoughts, making you look up from your half eaten lunch. You had barely touched your food for almost an hour. You cleared your throat, wiping your mouth as you stood up and grabbed your lab coat and made your way outside the break room. You let out a sigh, checking your watch as you buttoned up your coat. You still had another twenty minutes of your break yet they called you out, which was unusual as that would never happen unless it was a big emergency.

"What's the matter with this patient Kyle? I have never been called during my break" You spoke up, watching as your coworker flipped through some pages on his clipboard. With a huff, he let go of the papers as he kept on walking. "That's the thing Doctor, we don't know what's wrong with him."

You stopped walking, having reached the operation room. You raised a brow at him as you washed your hands and a nurse helped you with the gloves. "What do you mean you don't know what is wrong with the patient?" You replied in confusion.

Kyle sighed in exasperation, tapping several times on his tablet and showing you a radiography of the patient. "It is clear it is an internal penetrating trauma in his lower abdomen. Several organs have been pierced and it is necessary to act immediately." This only made you furrow your eyebrows as you examined intently the image.

"Internal stab wound? How is that possible? You mean to say he has been stabbed internally?" You asked him, wanting to make sure you heard correctly. Kyle nodded vigorously, turning off the tablet as he followed you in the room. "I don't know about you, but this patient seems suspicious. I mean, have you seen the clothes he was wearing when he came in? It seemed as though he came from ancient somewhere, wearing such a weird outfit!"

You shook your head slightly, pushing the doors open as you readied yourself for a long surgery. "We'll see about that." You walked in at a fast pace, greeting the nurses and doctors in the room with a nod as you got to work. As you stood right next to the patient, you blinked in confusion at the sight in front of you.

That man had clearly been stabbed with some type of transparent weapon. How did no one saw that? It was as clear as the day that there was still a weapon inside the patient. You looked over at Kyle, seeing him next to you as you leaned over and whispered.

"Are you seriously not seeing that weapon on his abdomen?" Kyle only shook his head hesitantly, watching as you retreated back with a confused and somewhat worried expression. Were you going mad? Were you imagining a transparent weapon on the patient? You shook away those thoughts, concentrating in the task at hand. Saving that man.

You looked around, not knowing if anyone also saw the weapon, which you suspected not since it would've already been removed. You decided to not risk it as you grabbed a scalpel and lowered your hand, stopping right next to the weapon as you took it in your hand and started removing it slowly, knowing well when to move it whether left, right, up or down. The weapon was soon free and you set it carefully on the table next to you. "I've got the damage located." You whispered so no one wondered why you had lowered your hand in yet done nothing.

The rest of the surgery went as normal, though the thought of being the only one being able to see that transparent weapon kept nagging at your mind. The rest of the surgery went by in a blurr, and soon you found yourself stitching up the wound to finalize the surgery. You suddenly looked up, looking around the room as you got a bad feeling about something. You didn't know what, but it just felt someone was watching you.

Before anyone could react, everyone was suddenly thrown back to the ground, the wall to your right fragmenting around as the explosion rumbled through the building. Alarms flared around, people on the other side ran for their lives and some were attending several of the wounded people that were hit by the explosion.

Everything became confusing after that. Your mind was yet processing that an explosion just occurred and it blew up at least two floors of the building. Several of the nurses and doctors that had been in the surgery were laying motionless on the floor, the remaining ones just barely getting up and looking around frantically.

You looked to your right, your eyes widening in horror as Kyle screamed in pain, his hands clutching his lab coat close to the right half of his face. He unfortunately had been far very close to the explosion, along with you. You soon realized how bad your state was as soon as you tried to get up, only to be received by the most excruciating pain you have ever felt in your life. The pain spread like wildfire through your whole back and right arm, and you were completely sure that you had second or third degree burns judging by the appearance of your arm.

Before you could pass out, you watched through your blurred vision as several men and women dressed oddly. Their faces were covered by hoods so you would need to be standing exactly in front of them to see who they are. Half of them were holding transparent weapons, just like the one you extracted from the patient. The other half were holding what seemed like bright orange cables, though it seemed as though as if it were lightning. They were fighting each other in mid hospital, and it seemed as though no one noticed still what was happening.

You reached over for the transparent weapon that was now laying next to the table were the patient was laying just moments ago.

Wait... was?

You had to take a look twice, confirming indeed that he was gone. You shook your head once again, concentrating in the fact that Kyle was bleeding to death and that probably you were too. You moved towards him with difficulty, helping him tie the torn piece of lab coat to try and stop the bleeding. Judging by his wide eyes and gaze fixed on the fighting men and women, he could see them too.

"C-Can you see that? Those men and women fighting with transparent weapons and orange lightning?" He exclaimed breathlessly, thinking maybe it was just due to the loss of blood. You blinked tiredly, lifting your head up to nod as you layed on your left side to try and avoid the pain. The loss of blood was taking a toll on you too, and you were loosing consciousness.

As your eyes shut close, the last thing you saw was a hooded figure approaching the both of you. She was holding one of the orange lighting and seemed to be the leader of the half by the way she fought and lead the others. As your eyes closed and you fell unconscious, you thought maybe indeed you were going crazy.