Stephen fell to the floor, his astral body sliding out of his physical one before he could hit the ground. He does not remember the last time he did this, and the strange out of body experience never fails to surprise him.
“S-Stephen!” A strangled, desperate cry.
Stephens astral projection turned and he saw the face of America Chavez staring at his bloodied and still body on the ground. His chest tightened as he saw her face, she looked every bit of her age in that very moment. A scared and lost girl, thinking she had just lost another person she cared for. Right before her eyes.
She ran to him and her knees buckled, falling down to his side. Her trembling hands stayed hovering over his body, complete shock and confusion on what to do shaking her every fiber. Stephen observed as a single tear falls down her right cheek, and his astral form wipes it away with infinite tenderness, it was useless and did nothing for America, but it was more for Stephens sake anyway.
Once some sort of reality hit America, she shakily put her hand over his wound, using her free hand to check his pulse. Though Stephen wasn’t in his physical form, he could tell his pulse was weak and was getting weaker. He cringed as a sharp inhale escaped from Americas lips.
Soon enough Americas breathing got quicker, more desperate, and tears completely blurred her vision. How could she forget the ability to breathe in such a short amount of time?
Her left hand, now bloodied, was still sat on Stephens torso applying pressure. Her right hand was now holding Stephens face as gentle as she possibility could.
“Please wake up” she whispered weakly, her breathing still scarily uneven. Stephen wanted nothing more than to go back into his physical body and talk to her, help her, but he couldn’t. He would be unconscious. And though he was ignoring it, there was a small voice in his head begging him to go back into his physical form, just so he wouldn’t see America in so much pain. So much pain he could not take away.
“Stay with me, please just- just don’t leave me” her grip tightened. America felt so useless, so small. There was nothing she could do but hold onto him and beg for him to be okay. She was not a healer nor was she a sorcerer. All she could do was wait for Wong.
Stephens astral form moved to kneel in front of his physical body, across from America. He gazed at her, watching tears fall down her face and her shoulders shake with such intensity. He felt as useless as she did. It was funny, a coincidence mostly. How did a child as lonely as Strange fall into his universe? How were they so similar yet so different? How did she blend into Stephens life so perfectly?
A portal opened a few feet away from them, a worried and combat ready Wong stepping out. America didn’t look away from Stephen, afraid he would disappear if she did. Once Wong eyes scanned the area and he saw Stephens body, his heart dropped and he rushed over to him and America.
Wong called for someone, but everything was muffled in Americas ears now. Wong was here, he was going to take care of Stephen. Stephen was going to be taken care of. She watched with wide puffy eyes as multiple people came out the portal, surrounding the bloody body in front of her. So many people were talking and she heard someone say her name through the white noise but she didn’t stop looking at Stephen. He looked so beaten up, so exhausted. Only when a few sorcerers had picked him up did Americas hands fall off his body, and as soon as he physically left her, her entire body stiffened. She felt his loss immediately. But he was still there in his astral form, he would not leave her.
America stared at the ground, still on her knees in the same exact spot Stephen had left her. She hadn’t noticed, but the warm tears had stopped running and her breathing had gotten abnormally calm. Everyone had left, well everyone besides Wong, who was standing in front of America. He leaned down and put his hand on her shoulder, grounding her slightly from whatever haze she was in. “Let’s go back to Kamar-Taj together. You can rest and get cleaned up, that is where Stephen is.” She nodded and with the help of Wong, she stood up with wobbly legs and stepped into the portal. Stephen was by their side the entire time.
America was curled around herself in her bed with her blankets wrapped around her legs. Her hair was messy and unbrushed and there were dark bags under her eyes. It had been 8 days since the incident, and she was only able to stay asleep for about an hour or two every night. Memories flooded her vision whenever she tried to close her eyes to rest.
The past few days had been rough, to say the least. America stayed inside her room and would only come out once a day to have a single meal. There were 4 times Wong had sat with her in Kamar-Taj’s dining room. He had sit across from her with his hands together, updating her on Stephen and how he was healing. He seemed tired and worried, probably due to staying with Stephen the past few nights. She would stay silent until he was finished filling her in on everything, “can I visit him?” she would ask. Wong looked at America with sad and guilty eyes every time, shaking his head no.
“I’m sorry, only when he is conscious can anyone visit him”
Was America just anyone ?
If she wasn’t exhausted, she surely would have said something. But her frustration and anger had blended in with her tiredness and whatever she was going to say to Wong died on her lips.
After the 6th day of waiting, America stopped showing up the the dining hall. She didn’t have an appetite anyway.
America rubbed her eyes, trying to get her brain to stop thinking about the past few days. She took a deep breath and pressed her face deeper into her pillow. She closed her eyes and felt the first of many tears dampen her pillow. America was so exhausted, she just wanted Stephen to be okay. She wanted Stephen to be here with her. To pick up all of Americas shattered pieces and put her together again. Americas arms wrapped sound herself and her fingers pressed into her shoulders. Surly it will leave bruises, but she did not care. She sat like that for a few minutes trying desperately to ground herself, only when she heard a knock at her door did her eyes spring open and her body sat up straight in bed. A visitor? Wong? An enemy? America did not feel ready for company. Her room was messy- she was messy, hopefully whoever it is just goes away. She stared at the door for what felt like hours until she heard another knock. Maybe if she is quiet they’ll think no one is in here and go away?
Once America heard yet another knock she wiped her tears and pushed herself off the bed, grumbling. Before she even reached the door, she found out she got up a little too quickly for someone who was in bed for two days because her wobbly legs gave out and she fell down, slamming her face into the ground.
“Ouch- fuck! FUCK!”
Stephen heard inside of Americas room. Worry filled his mind and he opened the door and stepped in. “America?” Once he was inside he saw the girl on the floor, her face scrunched up in pain and her legs tangled in blankets. “Kid?” He asked, stepping towards her.
America opened her eyes, staring up at Stephen. For a millisecond, he stared at her trying to figure out what to say. But his body had acted before his brain could come up with anything. He crouched down and grabbed Americas hands, holding them tightly. She just stared at him, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly opened. She was frozen. “You look like shit, kid” he stated. Stephen was about to start to stand up with her when she all but threw herself onto him, sending them both stumbling back.
“Stephen! You’re here!” She let out a watery laugh and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as possible. She pressed her head on his middle and Stephen was slightly taken back. He was not used to such physical affection but he can not say he didn’t like it. Though he hesitated at first, he held onto America. One of his scarred hands were on her back rubbing soft and comforting circles, while the other held the back of her head. They stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the ability to be in each other’s presence once again.
America had started to tremble and her grip on his clothes had tightened. “I thought- I thought you had-“ she choked out, her words were muffled and almost ineligible. Stephen held her a little bit tighter. “I know.” He whispered and his eyes started to burn. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere, kid” he rested his head on top of Americas, closing his eyes.
Stephen Strange never believed he could care for someone as deeply as he cared for America.
And he never believed he could have someone that cared for him as deeply as America cared for him.
When did Doctor Strange become so soft?
After a few minutes of comforting silence, America pulled away from Stephen. Her hands were still holding onto his arms while she settled in front of him. Her face was puffy and wet, but a goofy smile was plastered on her face. “I can’t believe you left me with Wong.” She joked, her voice cracking. Stephen barked out a laugh and wiped away her tears with his thumb.
“I think you’re being dramatic.”