Plus, I might be going to see Dr Strange again soon.
Dr. Strange Genderbend
Summary: Chris and Steph talk, and the Cloak congratulates itself on a job well done.
Word Count: 600
Hints of Chris/Steph but nothing explicit.
The Cloak comes back, and the two humans are talking. The Doctor is speaking haltingly, but she is talking, which is more than she’s done in a long time.
They try not to look smug, but Steph rolls her eyes at them. “I can see you there,” she points out, sounding slightly more alive, and they preen anyway, handing both cups. The Doctor has the strength to look sarcastic again and it’s nice. Still, she looks grateful. All in all it’s a good day.
“Tea?” Palmer looks confused. “You never used to like tea.”
Strange laughs. It’s an actual laugh and startles them all, but that’s definitely a smirk now. “It was too normal for me. I didn’t want to be the woman daintily sipping tea.” She sighs quietly. “The ginger helps the pain, though, and tea is wonderful for helping with recharging from magic use.”
Palmer looks uncomfortable, but to his credit doesn’t shy away from it. “I think I’m owed an explanation on that front. How’d you go from a woman who wouldn’t give the fortune-teller at the circus the time of day to being a sorceress in a cult?”
“It’s not a cult!” she responds automatically and then sighs. “For one thing, no sign of those stupid suicide pacts or ‘dues to the Masters’ or anything. We’ve dealt with enough casualties being dropped by the hospital to notice those signs.” She’s quiet for a full minute. “…I’ll admit that I had my worries, a lone woman traveling halfway across the world in search of a promised miracle cure. The Ancient One worried me a little before I realized that he was more interested in treating us all like wayward lost children than anything nefarious. And now that he’s dead…”
“The man in the hospital?” Chris asks, confirming, and Steph nods.
“I suppose if you want to categorize the Avengers as a cult, then you might have a point. Especially with what Stark’s been doing lately, treating any dissention as a sacrilege. I think of cults as empty, unable to fulfill their promises. We actually practice magic, and I haven’t seen kool-aid at a single meeting.” The Cloak doesn’t understand all the words, but Chris laughs.
“But your hands—” He’s staring blatantly.
The Cloak freezes, shivering a little.
“There’s so much.” Her voice shakes like her hands, so she sets the cup down on the table. “I’ve been telling myself that I don’t want to make a mistake, that I could make it worse. I have the power. I could turn back time, regain these beautiful masterpieces, but there are consequences for meddling with time and I’m not sure that I want to pay any more than I already have, but it’s more than that.” She crosses her arms defensively and tries not to shiver. The Cloak swoops in and cuddles her shoulders, feeling her shake. It’s hard to tell whether it’s fear or cold. “I don’t want to go back to who I was. I don’t want to forget the lessons I’ve learned. Your watch is a reminder of that. Just because I have the power doesn’t mean I should use it.”
Chris frowns, then smiles. “You mean, magic doesn’t offer the magic pill any more than those fools on TV?”
That earns a grin. “Everything has side effects. Everything has consequences.”
“Well, I’m glad you could learn that. And that it’s not all about you. And that you’re still alive, you idiot,” he responds, and wraps Steph in a hug, and the Cloak wriggles out and joins in, covering them both in warmth and affection.