The Sorcerer's Apprentice {Stephen Strange}

Eight

Strange Magic by Electric Light Orchestra

"I specifically said not to do that," Stephen whispers to his shoulder as if he were talking to his cloak. The pointy collar folds over like a dog's ears when punished. Emerson blinks her eyes one more time just to make sure what she's seeing is real.

"What kind of doctor are you?" She questions realizing how stupid she is to trust some weirdo in robes who claims they are a surgeon.

"One whose hobbies include the mystic arts," he sheepishly responds. He reaches out his hand in an attempt to give Em the coffee mug but she sits frozen in front of him.

"Mystic arts? I didn't realize I was at Hogwarts visiting Harry Potter," The sergeant mutters aloud, grabbing her head in disbelief. "What a joke... I mean, you're just some ex-doctor hopped up on prescription painkillers playing some weird magic trick on me. How'd you make the cloak look like it's flying? Is it motorized? Is there a fishing line connected to it pulling it around?" She spews out, frustration overcoming her.

"Eh, I'd say I'm more like Albus Dumbledore," he quips and Emerson squints her eyes at him. She strolls towards him, using her hands to propel herself forward. She sits in front of him, looking up at his ginormous figure hanging over her.

"You think this is funny?" Emerson raises her voice in annoyance. "I came all this way and spent the last little bit of money I had left to get here just to find out I'm meeting some junkie who does parlor tricks to woo over vulnerable, disabled women. What was the point in dragging me here? I don't have time to play games. My nerves are beyond screwed up and I came here for help, not an America's Got Talent magician. Pfft, Dr. Strange? The name holds true-" In an instant his palm comes forward, quickly pushing her back. As Emerson blinks, she's pushed out of her body, looking down to see herself sitting in the wheelchair. She watches her chair roll back in slow motion, her body along with it. The soldier glances up at Strange and he opens his mouth to speak.

"Are you done?" he asks, looking annoyed. Emerson doesn't respond as fear pulses through her veins. She hovers above the ground, feeling as though she can walk. Even though she's floating, she stands straight up, no longer sitting. Raising her hands in front of her face, she looks right through my arm at Dr. Strange's smug face.

"W-What is this?"  she whispers, trying to calm herself down. He watches her stare at him and he looks impressed with himself.  She however feels confused and nervous while shooting eye daggers at him.

"Your astral form," Is all he says back.

"Ass what?... Did you lace my food last night? Why am I watching myself? Oh my god, is this what happens when you die? Holy shit, I am freaking out right now,"  She manages to choke out as she begins struggling to breathe.

"No, I didn't- What? No, you're not dying," he tells me, flustered by my comments. "And I'm not a magician. I'm Doctor Stephen Strange and I'm trying to help you. It's not some gimmick or trick; this is real," he explains.

"Astral form? Put me back in my normal form," Emerson begs. Her voice catches in her throat and she begins struggling for air. Her anxiety skyrockets, convincing her she's dying. In a blink, the sergeant is being sucked back into her body.  she doubles over, using her hands to cover her face, hiding from anyone who could possibly see her. She gasps for breath trying to inhale more oxygen but never feeling satisfied.

"Sgt. Moore?" He asks, stepping forward while speaking to her. "Hey, open your eyes. You're here, you're fine," he tries telling her but she barely hears him.  She hyperventilates, making herself feel light-headed and foggy. Fear hovers over her head making the world feel like it's closing in on her. She feels his hand rest upon her shoulder, grounding her. The feeling of his shaky hand holding Emerson's shoulder reassures her that she really is back in her own body instead of 'floating' in mid-air. Once her breathing calms down she slowly opens her eyes, looking around the kitchen. Stephen's face hovers over her and their eyes lock for a little too long. He oddly feels bad for scaring her. Strange steps away while awkwardly clearing his throat.