𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 — it's not about you

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 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 cared for with every ounce of your being, lying on a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of them, with machines furiously beeping around them... Well, it brought out an indescribable feeling.

 There was nausea that made the skin itch; like the feeling of a million butterflies or buzzing bee's swarming the gut. There was the powerlessness that came with watching doctors parade about whilst you stood by and did nothing to help. The feeling that you were intruding, seeing someone in such a weakened state leaving them vulnerable, it felt wrong to watch. like one should avert their eyes.

 Emilia felt misplaced as she peered through the glass of the operating room with tears bubbling on her waterline, threatening to be pushed over the edge if a single machine beeped again. Her fingers were shaking as she pressed them to her lips, trying to stifle any gasps or harsh breathes that would attract pitying stares and fog up her view through the glass.

 She was well aware of the looks Stephen and Christine threw her way, but Emilia's eyes never strayed from the hospital bed... They never strayed from the bloodied body of her mentor.

 Her breathing was uneven, puffs of hot air came out in short bursts. Her cheeks were burning, a glaring red was blossoming under her skin and her body felt numb. She knew the feeling of watching people die. Yet it was no easier now that it had ever been before.

 She was panicking. That creeping feeling of hands wrapping around her windpipe was crawling over her. She had a choice, to stay and keep her eyes trained on the person who had taken her in and offered her warmth in a time where she only knew the cold of her own thoughts whilst her lungs constricted and forced her to her knees.

 Or she could tear her eyes away from the sight that was likely going to be seared into her mind for years to come — that was likely to play out at night when sleep refused to settle her — and take a minute in the bathroom to regain herself.

 Neither was good. Having a panic attack in the middle of a hospital with grieving patients and overworked staff sounded terrible, but the thought of taking a break and coming back only to be greeted with a lifeless body... She couldn't see that again.

 So Emilia held her breath and shut her eyes.

 One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten...

 It wasn't helping at all. No matter how many numbers she chanted in her head, no matter how long she prevented oxygen from entering her system, she still shook like a fragile leaf in the wind and her heart still thudded like the hooves of a raging stampede. 

 A choke tore its way out of her chapped, split lips; her face had grown a deeper red from holding her breath and now her head was dizzy and her skin had began to blossom in blue. The lights around her were blurring and mixing with the sounds of the machines that struggled to keep her mentor alive.

 Then a single, long beep sounded out from the room before her, and Emilia's heart stilled. The erratic pounding in her chest that warmed her skin became an immovable weight that made her blood run cold. Her ears began to ring. Her eyes began to water. Her hands continued to tremble.

 Blurry eyes sought out the room and the only thing to be seen were doctors, nurses and surgeons scurrying around in their powder-blue whilst a single green line trailed across the heart monitor. It was glaring at Emilia.

 Emilia didn't have the time to see the way Stephen's body jolted back ever so slightly inside the surgery room — a telltale sign of the man entering his astral form — for Emilia had already transported herself into her own, without a single care of the fact that her body would slowly crumble to the ground, toppling upon the cold tiles.

 It was an odd feeling, to be in one's astral form, entirely detached from the physical body and plane. Everything was slowed, Emilia's falling body had barely begun its descent. Clattering tools that had been used to tug and tear at the Ancient One's wound barely moved as the doctors and nurses slowed their pace. The silver tools were almost dangling in the air, as though hanging by strings.

 Emilia drifted through the wall, eyes stinging even as she passed her mentors still and bloodied body. Then she was outside, standing on a balcony that overlooked the magnificent city.

 Lights beamed and lit up the darkening sky like twinkling stars within the night, thunder split through clouds and jostled the light sprinkling of snow that fluttered through the sky like speckles of diamond, or even confetti.

 The Ancient One smiled despite her back being turned to Emilia, and with a single movement, the Sorcerer moved a step away from Stephen, allowing Emilia to join them and take her place within the deligated gap. 

 Emilia didn't know what to say. This was it for her mentor, for the woman with an open heart who had accepted Emilia and the destruction she had caused, this is where she left, there was no doubt about it.

 The Sorcerer Supreme was cryptic, she often skirted around the truth in times that she deemed it necessary, and she could school her emotions with a snap of her fingers. But now, as she stared out at the calming descent of the snow with the dimmest sparkle in her eyes. 

 Emilia knew.

 She had spoken of the snow before, prattled on about thunder crawling through the clouds as the sky grew darker and darker. She'd described it like a critic would a painting. Yet she spoke with a hazed glaze of longing and curiosity. Only now did Emilia realise, this was the exact moment she had been describing.

 Whatever conversation had begun during the time it had taken for Emilia to join the pair continued on. The Ancient One offered her company a solemn smile, "Time is relative. Your bodies haven't even hit the ground yet..." She inhaled a steady, deep breath, it wasn't needed and yet her see-through form still followed the motion, "I've spent so many years peering through time, looking at this exact moment. But I can't see past it."

 Emilia stayed silent, almost dazed by the words she'd heard that just further confirmed her own thoughts. Her eyes were glued to the spiderweb of thunder that decorated the sky, watching as vines tore at the landscape.

 "I've prevented countless terrible futures. And after each one, there's always another. They all lead here, but never further..." The Ancient One trailed off whimsically, keeping her head forward as her students looked to her with what was a mixture of both sadness and guilt.

 "You always told me about the snow, the lightning..." Emilia muttered, as her teeth worried her lip. "You always knew this is where you'd die."

 That final word came out as nothing more than a whisper, a trembling breath before Emilia cleared her throat.

 Stephen lowered his head, a ghostly hand reaching to brush Emilia's, the two taking solace within intertwined fingers. Stephen was no stranger to death, to watching his own loved ones die, after all, that was the very reason for his cold demeanour. He didn't want to let people in only to watch them go... Just like Emilia. But it seemed both of them had no choice in the matter; they were to watch as yet another person they cared for left them behind once more.

 "Do you wonder what I see in your future, Stephen?" The Ancient One questioned.

 "No."

 The Ancient One finally turned to them. Emilia's face was stricken with grief, with mourning before her death had even come to be. The Sorcerer Supreme didn't speak of it, instead, she sent a look towards Stephen, for she knew him well, and she knew that that ever-growing need for answers was growing within him.

 Stephen let out a sigh, his head bobbing, "Yes...."

 "I never saw your future, only its possibilities. You have such a capacity for goodness." The Ancient One smiled, "You always excelled, but not because you craved success, but because of your fear of failure."

 "It's what made me a great doctor."

 "It's precisely what kept you from greatness. Arrogance and fear still keep you from learning the simplest and most significant lesson of all."

 "Which is?"

 "It's not about you." The Ancient One breathed, "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."

 Stephen blinked, his eyes drifting to the hands that shook by his side, even in his astral form. They were a taunt, "He uses magic to walk."

 "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?"

 The mere thought of being able to help people in such a way again... In the very way people couldn't help his family before. The urge to force himself back to his physical body and channel every ounce of magic into his fingers was overwhelming. Blinding, almost.

 "You could. And the world would be all the lesser for it." The Ancient One lowered her gaze to the silent student that stood between them, "And you Emilia? The possibilities of your future are endless... As long as you refuse to give up on yourself."

 Emilia, with wide eyes, looked up to her mentor as she continued to speak in that soft, praising tone.

 "I know how much your past haunts you, but you cannot let it prevent you from doing the good — the great that you are destined to do. Your powers are inconsequential, and with control over them you'd be able to do things that others would deem impossible." Such warmth filled the Ancient Ones eyes as her ghostly fingers lightly clutched at Emilia's shoulder, "If anyone else had been granted such capabilities... I doubt they'd succeed, but I have every ounce of faith in you. You are selfless. You'd rather see the end of your own life than risk harming another person, and I know, even without seeing your future, that you'll do great things, Emilia."

 The Ancient One knew she had a piece of information that Emilia deserved to know, yet at that moment, watching as her student's ghostly eyes watered. Watching as Emilia gripped Stephen for comfort... She couldn't do it. She couldn't cause more pain... Or perhaps... Perhaps the Ancient One simply wished not to see a scathing look on Emilia's face. it couldn't be the last thing she saw.

 "Please stop talking like that." Emilia whispered as her dull green eyes latched onto the bolt of thunder that was still trickling through the sky like rainfall. Her words sounded like a note that would be left behind when someone passed, and though Emilia wasn't naive to believe that her mentor would still be by her side by day's end... It still hurt. Her fingers squeezed at Stephens, and he repeated the action in return.

 The Ancient One smiled sadly, her lips falling as she slowly tore her gaze from her student, "I've hated drawing power from the Dark Dimension. But as you both well know, sometimes one must break the rules in order to serve the greater good."

 "Mordo won't see it that way, you know he won't."

 "Mordo's soul is unmovable, he's a stubborn man, you know that well, Emilia." The Sorcerer Supreme's lips quirked at the sound of a light laugh pouring from Emilia, though it lacked her usual spark, "He needs you both. He needs your flexibility, Stephen. He needs your friendship and your craving for goodness, Emilia. Just as you both need his strength, and just as you both need each other." The echoing sound of another clap of lightning began to ring out, loud and impossibly slow, "Only together do you stand a chance of stopping Dormammu."

 "I don't think I can —" Emilia began, only for her mentor to turn her head.

 "— You can."

 Emilia's lips clamped shut, pressing into a thin line as she suppressed the tears that had been brewing for far too long. She wanted to say I can't do this without you, without the promise you made... 

 But mostly she just wanted to say I don't think I can say goodbye again.

 "You've made me proud."

 The tears that had been building and threatening to break free finally tumbled over Emilia's cheeks and though the mentor and student were close, they had never quite spoken such things aloud. Emilia huffed as she shook her head, swiftly bouncing onto the tips of her toes as she parted her hand from Stephens only to wrap her arms around her teacher's neck, "Thank you."

 "Death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered; your time is short." The Ancient One smoothed a gentle hand over Emilia's back, her eyes opening to meet with Stephens over Emilia's shoulder, "You'd think after all this time I'd be ready. But look at me, stretching one moment into a thousand... Just so I can watch the snow..."

 The snow around them reflected the light emanating from the thunder, each tiny snowflake illuminated like a bundle of Christmas lights ready to be tangled around a tree; yet such a celebration wouldn't come.

 Emilia's eyes were closed when her arms slowly began to fall back to her side, no longer being kept up by the form of her mentor. They cracked open, only to be met with the scenery that the Ancient One had spoken of so often, and with such fondness.

 A hand tangled with her own as she stared at the empty space before her, and then they both disappeared, retreating back to the bodies they'd left behind.

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 Christine was solemn, her eyes were flooded with grief and guilt as she reached a gentle hand to guide Emilia towards Stephen's side. She could have spotted the sadness that tangled within their pupils from a mile away, the tears that begged and pleaded to fall down their cheeks.

 Emilia was numb. The only way that she could tell that she was obediently following Christine was by the way the scenery around her changed from beeping machines to a spotless line of soap and sinks. She was walking, but hardly thinking.

 Emilia could barely lift her head as grief held her down, pressing against her. Her fingers curled inwards, nails scraping at the calloused skin of her palms as she finally met Stephen's eyes. Her lips trembled, a shuddering gasp breaking free despite the effort Emilia had made to keep it under lock and key.

 Stephen sighed, his own tears clouding his vision as he stepped closer to the woman who had somehow come to mean so much in the time of being a student. His trembling fingers stretched out, seeking her own, and once they were intertwined all it took was the gentlest of tugs for Emilia to stumble forth.

 Her face was immediately met with the fabric of Stephens robe that darkened in colour, deepening from a royal blue into the very colour of the midnight sky. Both of their shoulders shook and the tiniest of breaths and sobs fell from their parted lips.

 Stephen's arms tightened as Emilia heaved a heavy breath, "I'm so sorry."

 Never before had Stephen been a man that sat before the relatives of his patients and offered them words and gestures of comfort. He never truly cared enough, in all honesty. But now, as he knew the very grief that tore through Emilia's heart, the heart of somebody who had broken through his shields and made him care, he couldn't pull away.

 The loss of his teacher had hit him deeply, even despite the differing views. There were many things that Stephen didn't agree with, including many of the rules and sayings of the Ancient One, but even so, she was his mentor, his teacher and she had given him a home and a distraction when he had nothing left.

 Emilia's breathing was shallow, outlined by rasps that echoed and rumbled in the depths of her sore throat. She was tired. So damn tired of watching the people she cared for die. It was as though a switch flipped inside of her head, she was done watching people suffer.

 Emilia stepped back, her hands lightly pushing against Stephen's chest as she did so. The man that towered over her simply looked down, his red eyes shrouded in salted tears falling to her own that looked all too similar.

 "We have to go." Emilia said, her voice far lower than usual, breaking with each word.

 She knew it would be far harder than it sounded, but Emilia needed... No... She had to abandon her fear, she needed to harness whatever chaos laid within her blood and bones, and she knew she had to use it to protect other people. There was no more time to hide, to run away whenever she broke something.

 She needed, and she had to take control. This time, she wanted it, she craved it, and she needed it. The Ancient One, her mentor who had taught her so much and watched her struggles daily, believed she could take control of her power, and now that she was gone, Emilia vowed that she wouldn't disappoint her.

 "I know," Stephen muttered in response as his scarred thumb swiped across the flawed skin of Emilia's hand. He could see the determination in her eyes, "I know."

 "I — " Emilia scoffed at herself, the mere sound of her trembling voice was enough to make her stand straighter, a fire lighting in her eyes, "I need you to promise me something."

 "Anything."

 A beat had barely passed after Emilia's words, and yet Stephen's response was like muscle memory, his words had parted his lips and drifted into the air without a single hint of hesitation, and he almost wicked himself for it. How obvious could he be?

 Clearly not obvious enough, for Emilia's stone gaze never shifted, "The Ancient One —" Emilia cleared her throat, banishing the tightness that threatened to leave her words to shatter like glass. Her words came out stronger this time, even despite the tears lingering in her eyes and clinging to her oil-black lashes, "The Ancient One promised me that if my powers... If they ever threatened to harm people the way they did before... She'd stop me."

 Stephen nodded, the single strand of onyx hair that dusted his forehead jostled, "Of course."

 "No, Stephen... She would stop me, by putting an end to the threat."

 Stephen's body went rigid. He had heard of this so-called 'Promise' that the Ancient One had made for Emilia, but this, killing her, putting an end to the threat... It was absurd. Surely she knew that, surely she knew that Stephen wouldn't be able to complete such a... Such a task.

 He knew he'd never be able to do it, put an end to her, his heart that he had kept so damn secure behind a cold wall of ice simply melted in her presence. He thought he had hidden it well, and maybe he did, but Christine, within a mere twenty minutes of seeing the pair together had cracked his feelings like the simplest of safes.

 He had forgotten that feeling, the feeling of being vulnerable. 

 His childhood had shaped him into the cold, arrogant surgeon that he had once been... The cold and arrogant surgeon that still lived inside of him, if only partly. Stephen had vowed to himself that his battered heart that had survived such loss, would never feel that way again. He'd never get attached again.

 With Christine... He had been attracted to her, he cared for her, but Emilia... Emilia had managed to do what so many had once thought impossible, she had made Stephen Strange go soft. She had made him smile and laugh in some of his darkest hours. She made his resolve crumble.

 They were both so terribly broken, and yet somehow Stephen felt as though the broken pieces of himself that had been abandoned in his past came back to him during his time within the Kamar-Taj... During his time beside Emilia.

 She was a woman that simply strived to be better for others. She wanted nothing more than to help people, and though she'd never see herself through Stephen's eyes, she had helped him in a way nobody ever had; she made him a better man. No, she made him want to be a better man, a deserving one.

 So how could he possibly nod his head with sincerity and agree to her request? It was something he'd never be able to do, but what he would be able to do is repay the kindness she had shown him. Emilia had helped him change his ways, and he would help her in return by training every hour if need be.

 He would stay awake as the moon began to fall from the sky, as the stars faded and the sun began to shine if she wanted him to. But he couldn't make the promise she so desperately needed him to make. 

 So, for the first time, he lied to her.

 Emilia gazed up at his conflicted expression, the way his brows tugged together and the way the corners of his lips tugged down into a frown. She needed this. She needed that reassurance that somebody would be there to stop such chaos from happening once more. Especially if she was truly going to give her all into mastering her abilities.

 He shifted on the spot, his crimson cloak gently fluttering forth and wrapping around his shoulders, "I promise."

 A sigh filled the air, utter relief flooded Emilia's features before a single laugh slipped from her lips.

 The rather loyal cloak that had perched upon Stephen's shoulders was trying its best to gently wipe the remnants of tears from his cheeks, and in true Stephen fashion, the man huffed and swatted the fabric away.

 Emilia, with a gentle touch, reached up to replace the cloak that had finally admitted defeat. The calloused pads of her thumbs swiped beneath his eyes and tiny drops of salted water soaked into them as Stephen's eyes fluttered shut.

 It was a peaceful moment that had followed a tragedy, and a moment that would soon be followed by blood.

 Emilia wasn't entirely certain why she had stepped closer to the man again, but her body had taken a mind of its own as she carefully slipped her arms around the former surgeon. She inhaled heavily, and though nothing but the smell of blood and the bitter scent of whatever antiseptic cleaners the hospital used filled her senses, a blanket of short-lived comfort settled over them.

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16-10-2021

i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! it's a little late as i was conflicted on posting more chapters at the moment, as i'm pretty sure someone's plagiarising this story. don't worry about it, i'm keeping an eye out and if i'm right, i'll update you all. please don't ask for the persons user etc etc, i'll deal with this myself.

anyway, again, i hope you enjoyed! please don't forget to vote, comment and follow! ily!