A Perfect Nightmare

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Dr. Strange Genderbend
Summary: This isn't what Stephanie remembers.
Word Count: 645
Rating: Gen

         Stephanie wakes up slowly. Usually, she’s impatient to be awake, impatient to be doing things, but she feels sluggish. There’s something clouding her mind.
         She’s lying on the floor, and it’s cold and she aches, and it only takes a little turn of her head to—
         It’s a skyscraper. She’s in her old apartment, somehow, and she quickly, urgently pulls herself to her feet. She has yet to sell all of her watches, by the look of things, and her tablet sits, perfectly accusing, on the table.
         “No, no, no, no!” she yells into the darkened apartment. This is—this is an illusion or another dimension or—
         Keys at the door. A door opening, hesitantly, ever so cautiously. “Steph?”
         She turns, and it’s—it’s him. It’s Chris. All those emails, and now he’s finally within reach, and it’s probably not even him.
         “Did they reject your request again?” he asks, calm and concerned, and how the hell did she not get that Chris had her best interests at heart, always?
         “What? Yes, well, that doesn’t matter, does it?” It’s something pretending to be him, or—
         “Maybe it’s for the best?” he asks, and it’s here she blew up at him the first time. She thinks it’s just a case of sour grapes, she knows. If it’s him and not just something wearing his face and playing with him.
         “Probably. Chris—I’m so sorry.” She’s been trying to apologize for months, plural. Maybe he doesn’t want to hear it. Maybe it’s not even him, but she could certainly use the practice. She doesn’t do it very often.
         “I—excuse me?” He’s suddenly worried, crossing to her and placing a hand on her forehead, looking for a fever probably.
         “You’ve been—you’ve looked after me, and not just after the accident, and I was so ungrateful—and you’re so kind, one of the kindest people I know, and I—” She’s cut off by Chris looking more and more disturbed.
         “Maybe I should take you to the hospital,” he decides, and she quickly shakes her head.
         A mandala spell, she decides. That’s easy enough. She moves her hands in the required way, and—
         And no yellow sparks. She panics and reaches for the place inside, the core of her magic, and—
         There’s nothing there. Just her heart, hollow and beating like she’s run a marathon.
         “Steph?” She’s really worrying him.
         He’s acting the way she’d expect. And she suddenly can see herself living this life, Chris at her side, helping her through life. It’s realistic, much more like real life than what she’s been experiencing these past few weeks. Easier to accept for the rational mind.
         Was it—was it all a dream? A lie? It felt so real, and who’s to say it wasn’t some sort of glimpse of the future, or—
         “I—” She can’t hold in the tears, and buries her head in Chris’s shoulder, who hesitantly hugs her. “I’ve been such an ass. I don’t know how you dealt with me all these years.”
         He freezes slightly below her, but chuckles in response. “Maybe that’s my type.”
         She snickers, wiping at her eyes. “You do seem to appreciate a nicely formed backside.”
         They’re soon laughing like fools, and it feels real, feels genuine, but—
         —There are other ways to save lives.
         —This doesn’t have to be the end.
         What would she be? Before, it was arrogance. She couldn’t think of a world without the famous Doctor Strange. Now, it was more a feeling of loss.
         She realizes how selfish, how arrogant she is. It’s not just the accusations of insecure men. She has to try to figure that out, how she’s going to deal with that, where the lines of cruelty and confidence are, because she refuses to bow down to men as a ‘lesser’ being. Perhaps it’d be easy to accept this.