Twisted Fates | ironstrange (Book 1)

reconciliation

Comeback by The Score fits really well with this chapter and listening while reading will give you a different experience.

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 Stephen's light footsteps echoed in the dark hall. Moonlight illuminated his path as he stepped out into the silent courtyard. It was past the Pupil's curfew, he knew that, but he couldn't sleep and he was unable to stand sitting alone in his dark room any longer. It had been three weeks since the Everest incident and Tony had been avoiding Stephen like the plague. He had even gone as far as requesting a room change from the Ancient One. She had vetoed the demand, but it still felt like a punch to the gut that Tony didn't want anything to do with the doctor.

Over the past few weeks, Stephen had tried to communicate with the genius- finding him during free time or on Sundays when Kamar-Taj fell silent in respect of the many religious practices and cultures found throughout the sanctuary. For Stephen -who didn't necessarily believe in a god but believed there to be a higher power- this was a day of rest. And a day of fruitless attempts at setting things right with the infamously stubborn Tony Stark. As a result, he had found himself sleeping less and less, plagued with his own thoughts and the demons that had followed him through life since the day his sister died and his brother blamed him.

It was all his fault.

Stephen huffed and watched his breath fog up slightly in the chilly October air. It wasn't quite cold enough for snow, but the temperatures were slowly dropping. A cool fall breeze whistled through the trees and pierced his skin through his light-weight undershirt. Stephen shivered, but relished the cold against his skin. It kept his mind off of other, rather unpleasant, things.

Despite the chill, however, his thoughts returned to the last few days of sleepless nights. He was used to long night shifts, days of no sleep as he worked on patient after patient, but when he was in the operating room, he didn't have to think. His photographic memory did the work for him while he let his hands breeze through the operation. But when his hands lost their power, their knowledge, his memory faltered as well. He could still remember everything perfectly, but that was the problem.

The first few weeks after his accident, he'd have vivid nightmares of that night, often waking up screaming in agony, his hands aching with phantom pains. In Kamar-Taj, he could remember every spell they learned, every unique hand sign, every book. But he could remember everything Tony said to him three weeks ago. He could remember the pain of his face, the unreadable emotions clouding his gorgeous brown eyes, every heart wrenching word out of his mouth. He couldn't forget every time that Tony looked at Stephen with a hard mask hiding sorrowful eyes every time the billionaire shoved past Stephen in the courtyard, hid behind a bookshelf when Stephen entered, refused to answer the door when Stephen came knocking.

It had ripped Stephen from the inside out and he couldn't take it anymore.

Gravel crunched under his worn out boots as he entered the secluded yard of the Ancient One's private quarters. Only a select few were allowed on the premises; Kamar-Taj masters, quests specifically invited, certain teachers, and Wong. It was a high honor to meet with the Ancient One in her quarters, and Stephen had not received any permission whatsoever. But he desperately needed advice and he hoped against hope that his teacher wouldn't mind his presence all that much.

The dimly-lit path led to the door of a simple wooden house. The single window was covered and the door closed, but a warm yellow light spilled out from the bottom. Stephen stopped right in front of the door and took a deep breath, steadying himself and quieting his thoughts. He knocked.

"Coming." The voice was light. The door opened, the warm light flooding into the yard, revealing a tired-looking Ancient One dressed in a long, light blue dressing gown. "Mr. Strange?" Stephen opened his mouth to respond, but the Ancient One continued. "It is past your curfew." They commented.