AFFIRMATION
.

Sadie,

I can't say how sorry I am to hear about your mother, and how sorry I am that I can't be with you to help you through it.

I also can't pretend to know how you're feeling, and what this must be like for you. I know that when I lost my mom, nothing anyone said made me feel better, because my whole world had changed.

But I wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you, and what you're experiencing. And since I can't be there to lend you a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on, I'm instead going to write you a few reminders:

Your mother is still out there, and you'll see her again.
She made you the woman that you are, and she was proud of you.
All that you loved in her, is in you, too.
You are strong enough, and resilient enough to survive this.
It's okay to let people help you, and to tell them what you need.
If you ever feel alone, remember that you're not- and even if you were, having yourself is more than enough.
I care about you, and I'm thinking about you, and as soon as this manhunt dies down, I'm coming home to see you.
You are the most amazing, the most intelligent, and the strongest person on the planet- and I'm far from the only person to see that. You're more respected than you know.
If anyone can get through this, it's you.

I've included a drawing, like you asked for. I'm still in Africa (Sadie supposed he didn't want to get too specific with location) as I write this, so I've drawn you what I thought you'd like best- "Baobab" trees we spotted by the river. They're huge: rumour has it they've been preserved for fourteen generations, and honestly, I believe it.

And- here is what I'm most excited to tell you!- I have a medical fact I'm sure you don't know already, because I don't think anyone in the world knows what these people do. The fruit of the Baobab tree is apparently the perfect remedy for a fever, and some of the locals say it repairs the nervous system too. They're trying to make it into a cure for epilepsy. And that's about where my medical knowledge runs short- it seems rather unimpressive in hindsight.

By the time you read this, I will have left here already. Unfortunately, that's going to have to be the flow of things. I can't send a letter until I'm far away from wherever I was. I hope you can understand.

I'll write again soon. Please remember all of the things I put in the list above, and go back to it whenever you need.

Thinking of you always,
Steve.

Sadie hated to cry again.

She'd only cried an hour ago when she realised she'd left her photo album in her house when she'd brought her things to the Valentina home.

Her house, that she couldn't stay in, because she had a tag on her ankle and because she wasn't allowed to grieve alone. She had to hire somebody to water her plants. She had to hire security to make sure she wasn't burgled!

None of that would be a problem if she was allowed to stay in her own home.

But all of that wasn't the reason for her tears earlier- the reason had been that the photo album had all of Sadie's favourite pictures of her mom, and she couldn't look at them.

And now, Steve had written such a lovely letter that she was crying again, wearing his shirt, wishing he were with her.

"Aunt Sadie?" the voice was Sophia Valentina, stood at the door to the guest room with a tray in hand. "Mom was bringing you coffee, but I said I would make it!"

"Thanks baby girl," Sadie sniffed, sitting up and patting the space beside her in the bed.

Sophia followed her gesture, setting down the tray and climbing up, immediately settling into Sadie's side. "Are you sad because of Tìa Abuela?"

"A little," Sadie nodded, folding the letter and tucking it away. "Are you?"

"A little," Sophia shrugged. "We used to read magazines in the hospital. And she used to do my hair."

"I can do your hair," Sadie offered, and Sophia laughed. Sadie took a sip of the coffee- not as strong as she usually had it, but for a ten year-old, it was good. "Woah, 'Fia. You could get a barista job with these skills."

"Thanks, Auntie. What were you reading?" Sophia asked curiously, and Sadie let out a breath.

"You remember Steve? You met him when you were eight," she said, and the girl only frowned in response. Sadie sighed, and tried again. "You remember... Captain America?"

"Um, yeah, I'm not stupid," Sophia said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Captain America and Aceso are an item!"

"Steve and your Aunt Sadie are an item," she corrected, ruffling Sophia's hair. "Anyway, he drew me a picture, and wrote me a nice little list since... Since he broke his phone. And it made me quite happy."

"So you cried?"

"So I cried," Sadie smiled. "Sometimes that's what happens. You get so happy that you cry."

"You sure he didn't make you a little sad, too?" Sophia asked, before bouncing up slightly, a grin on her face. "Sure I don't have to fight him?"

"Oh, I don't think it'd be fair to set such a skilled fighter loose on an amateur like him," she answered, simply. "Even if he did make me a little sad."

"Boys always make people sad."

"True," Sadie agreed. "But I think I made him sad first, this time."

"How?"

"He wanted... to go on vacation," Sadie said, cheerfully as she could. "To Wakanda. You know Wakanda?"

Sophia nodded, looking a little puzzled. "What's in Wakanda?"

"Lots of things, apparently, like cool metals, and trees that can cure epilepsy," she grinned. "But I told him I wouldn't go. And now he's on vacation on his own."

"He doesn't have friends?"

"He does."

"But you're his special friend," Sophia grinned, wiggling her eyebrows, making Sadie laugh genuinely for the first time that day. "Mom and Dad think it's good you came home but..."

"But what?"

"But maybe you could have gone with him. It'd be romantic," she shrugged.

"Yeah, well, your Aunt Sadie loves to self sabotage," Sadie said plainly, setting down her empty mug. She didn't realise how empty her stomach was.. "Don't be like me- be like your Mom."

"I can't be like you both?" Sophia asked, with a frown.

Sadie almost felt bad, to talk to her goddaughter that way, but she suddenly felt so impatient, suddenly wanted to be alone. And where Sophia nestled into her side had once felt comforting, it now felt claustrophobic, and Sadie could feel the irritability rising within her.

But she wouldn't snap on a child.

"Thanks for the coffee, 'Fia," Sadie said, pressing a kiss to the child's forehead. "I've got a big, big headache though. D'you think you could take the tray away and turn the light off as you go?"

"You can't use your powers to fix it?" she asked, and Sadie took another breath.

She hadn't been able to make her hands glow since her mother died.

"Sometimes things just need a little time."

"Okay, Auntie," Sophia smiled, dragging herself from the satin sheets. "I'm sorry you're sad."

"Thank you," Sadie said. "I'm sorry you're sad, too. Later, I'll read you magazines and do your hair like Tìa Abuela used to do. Sound good?"

"Can you do me a French Braid?" Sophia asked, with an excited smile.

"Absolutely," Sadie smiled. "Give me a couple hours, I'll be right out."

As soon as the door clicked shut, and the light turned off, Sadie thought she would feel some relief, but she didn't. It was hard to talk, but just as hard to be alone, too.

She let herself sink into the black satin, pulled the material of Steve's shirt up against her neck as she settled into a fetal position. Inhaled.

The scent of his cologne was starting to fade already- why did he have to wear the subtle stuff? Still, she had four other shirts and two sweaters of his, so she couldn't complain. It was the closest she'd get to being held by him, now.

Sadie had nothing to simulate her mother though, not even the photographs in the leatherbound album. She could ask Adrianne to pick it up, but she'd already asked for so much.

Her body ached, and her head pounded, and all Sadie had for comfort was Steve's letter, which her eyes were too tired to read over again. She pictured his strong hand against the page, traced her own over the cursive writing- not dissimilar to the melancholy war letters she'd studied in school.

Sadie held the sketch paper close to her heart.

She tried imagine what Shan's advice to her would be, but she couldn't think of anything wise enough. She wished so badly to speak to her mother again, if only for a final time. If only to ask her how Sadie could be as strong and resilient as she was supposed to be- as Steve believed she was.

If only she could ask her mother how to be strong enough to get out of this damned bed.

"Get out of the damn bed," a voice said, shocking Sadie out of her wits.

She opened an eye to note Adrianne at the foot of the bed, her hands on her hips. She was dressed in workout gear, her long dark hair in a bun atop her head and a bottle of water in hand.

"I don't wanna," Sadie sighed, pulling her duvet closer around herself. "Unless you have one of two things waiting out there for me: my mom, or my man."

"I have neither," Adrianne said. "What I do have, is an incredibly difficult case I've been trying to crack."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Exploratory surgery is never ideal- I could do with the help of New York's finest diagnostician to figure out what's wrong without us cutting," Adrianne smiled. "It'll be good for you. And we can even do a work out after."

"A workout? Why?"

"You're always telling patients that movement makes them feel better. How about we take your own advice?"

"What, that movement is the key to feeling okay?" Sadie sighed. "That was my mom's advice, not mine. I stole it."

"Still," Adrianne said. "You don't like to train?"

"I do like to train," Sadie said, with a sad sigh. "I used to train with Steve. He went away."

"And?" Adrianne said, with that tough love tone Sadie did not want to hear. "What are you gonna do now he's gone? Watch the 'Emotion' video forty more times like last night?"

"Listen, it's comfort music, and that story hits me," Sadie argued. "Only thing I don't relate to is Beyoncé bleaching her boy's clothes."

"Why are you lying? We both know you've been there several times," Adrianne retorted. "So are you gonna let me hold you up like those girls did? Or are you gonna stick to it on your own?"

Sadie didn't want to answer that so she closed her eyes, pulled her covers over her head. She felt a weight shift beside her, then her friend's hands on her shoulders.

"Is everyone just getting in my bed today?" Sadie groaned, but she was actually quite touch starved as Adrianne settled beside her.

"We don't have to leave this bed if you're not ready," Adrianne said. "But I'm not going to leave you here by yourself."

"We could be here forever," Sadie said.

"That's fine by me," her best friend laughed. "I could do with some time out of the OR."

"You'll practically combust if you don't get to cut," she argued. "And d'you know what happens if you stay in a bed too long? Bed sores, muscle degeneration, heightened stress levels..."

"So I'm gonna let you deal with all that on your own?" Adrianne asked, rhetorically. "What kind of woman do you think I am?"

Sadie thought for a moment. It was clear her best friend wasn't going anywhere, and that she would be stuck there with her for as long as Sadie refused to move. So what could she do to make it easier for herself to brave the outside world again? Or at least, outside this guest room.

She glanced back at Steve's letter before folding it away, and peeping her head over the covers.

Let people help you, and tell them what you need.

"Okay, here's my proposal," Sadie said, turning to face her friend. "I'll crack your medical case. After I crack my mom's."

"What?"

"I just need some clarity," Sadie said. "The case doesn't make sense to me."

"Your mother's case?" Adrianne asked.

"That's what I said," Sadie sighed. "When I left for Europe, she was doing fine. Up to date with her chemo, up to date with her radiation and she had a surgery scheduled for that week. But her surgery wasn't performed, and it wasn't even the cancer that killed her. It was a heart attack."

"Sometimes these things have... unexpected complications," Adrianne said.

"But why wasn't the surgery performed?" Sadie said. "I thought if she'd die anywhere, she'd die on the table-"

"Dark."

"-but true, right?" Sadie said, chewing her lip. "It was the most likely outcome, the next likely being survival. But she didn't get either of those. She got a massive MI!"

"I don't have any answers for you-"

"Why wasn't the surgery performed?" She asked again. Adrianne shook her head with a sigh. "It's your department, shouldn't you know? Was it rescheduled, was it- was it bumped off the board? Was there something wrong with the OR?"

"Strange said he couldn't perform it," Adrianne said eventually. "He called from Metro General after we sent him the updated scans. He said it's best to wait a few weeks longer, I trusted his judgement as a surgeon."

"Okay," Sadie breathed, but she was only more confused. "What did he see in the scans?"

"Honestly, you'd need to ask him," Adrianne said. "I was in a trauma room, I just got the message from a nurse."

Tell them what you need.

"Maybe I do need to ask him," Sadie said. "I need to call Strange, I need to understand this case back to back. And I need you to leave me alone while I do that-"

"Sadie, I didn't mean now."

"Please, Adrianne, this is what I need," she said. "I won't be on my own, will I? I'll be having human interaction with Stephen Strange."

"Who is sort of a jackass," Adrianne huffed.

"Who is sort of a genius," Sadie argued. "Will you go? I'll come out right after, work on that case with you. I'll have something that's not coffee and I'll even work out. After I do Sophia's hair and read her magazines."

"Look at you," Adrianne smiled, sitting up. "A working to-do list. This is progress!"

"Yeah, yeah, just pass me my phone?" Sadie asked, and her friend complied, leaving quickly after Sadie ushered her out.

The phone rang six times before there was any response, and it wasn't a response that thrilled Sadie right away.

"Good afternoon," said a woman's voice, who Sadie didn't recognise. "Doctor Strange is currently performing surgery at the moment, he's asked me to ask you if it's important."

"Who's speaking?"

"Nancy McFarlane, I'm the scrub nurse," the woman said.

"Well, Nancy," Sadie said. "You tell Strange that of course it's important, or I wouldn't call."

"She said it is important-"

"Wait is he there?" Sadie frowned, noticing telltale background music. "You're in the OR?"

"Yes, ma'am, but-"

"Put me on speakerphone," Sadie sighed, and it was shortly followed by a sharp click, and the distant voice of Stephen Strange.

"Dr Moore, I am elbow deep in a man's spine right now, so please make this quick," he said. "What do you need? A character statement for the court?"

"Oh, and what would that include?" Sadie asked, curiously.

"Isadora Moore is a very good doctor, and a very good party host,' Strange started. "But what she is not good at, is picking a convenient time to call!"

"While that's very flattering, luckily my time in the courtroom is done," Sadie said. "I'm calling about my mother."

"Oh," he responded, and said nothing more after that. Then he addressed what Sadie could only assume was an OR full of eager students. "Okay everybody, if you haven't got your hands on a surgical table or on life saving machinery, then you're useless, and I'm going to need you all out."

There was a long moment of silence then, and the noise of shuffling feet and scrubs.

"Okay, Dr Moore, continue."

"I was just thinking about her case," Sadie said. "How that last surgery of hers fell through?"

"Isadora, I-" Strange stopped himself then, and there was the sound of surgical tools whirring. "Is this a conversation I should have a lawyer for?"

"Is this a conversation you need a lawyer for?"

"Not unless you plan to sue," he said, and Sadie could have laughed.

"I'm not going to sue you, Stephen," she assured him. "You gave my mother more time than any other surgeon was willing to. Unless you screwed up?"

"I never screw up."

"I just need some closure on it all," Sadie explained. "Why couldn't you perform the surgery?"

"There was a complication in the route of resection," Strange said. "I can send you the scans if you're ready to see them. The glioblastoma had grown uncontrollably in the six week recovery period before-" the sound of more tools. "Before her last surgery was scheduled."

"How?" Sadie asked. "Chemo and radiation were going as planned."

"In the targeted areas, yes," he explained. "It didn't grow where I'd previously resected- it was just growing further back, almost to the occipital lobe. Surgery so soon would've been a risk. I wanted to wait."

"Since when do you avoid risk?" Sadie asked, confused. "Miss a chance to show off?"

It was unlike Stephen Strange to back off a surgery because of an obstacle- it was much more like him to cut straight into the drama, show just how much of a genius he was. Strange sighed, audibly.

"This is... it was a special case," he admitted. "And I'll be honest, here- this is the only time you'll hear something like this from me, so soak it in. I have too much respect for you to have put my ego before your mother."

You're more respected than you know.

"Thank you," Sadie said, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, well, like I said," Strange said, plainly. "You won't hear it again. I'll send the scans and the files your way. You want them all?"

"All of it," she confirmed. "Down to the last note. The Presbyterian won't share anything."

"Lucky for you, I'm not on their payroll," he replied. "I'll have it in your inbox by this evening. McFarlane, would you hang up?"

Before Sadie could thank him again, the phone clicked off.

She was closer to some of the answers, at least. Closer to some closure on Shan Moore's death, on the timing of it all. And Sadie thought it would make her feel better, but it didn't.

It didn't change the fact that her mother was gone.

She wanted nothing more than to go back to bed then, but she thought of Sophia, and Adrianne, and the promises she made to them, and how lucky she was to have a family like this to help her through.

So Sadie dragged herself to her feet, keeping the beautiful words of Steve's letter at the front of her mind, imagining his low voice assuring her.

Your mother is still out there, and you'll see her again... she was proud of you.

Having yourself is more than enough.

. . .

. .

.

hi all! I really, really didn't expect to get this chapter out before the weekend, with the gorgeous combination of writer's block and flu I've been battling. But luckily, I had my plan for the chapter, and I had Steve's letter written out for quite some time- actually have a short collection of the letters lol I might weave them into the chapters as the story goes on, but we'll see what fits!

Hopefully this chapter feels a little lighter, and easier to read than the last. Of course, I wanted Sadie to still be grieving etc, but I wanted some humour in there too to break it all up, as I really don't want to tire you guys!

Let me know what you thought!

(PS: new banner to fit my new glitter theme, I did that)