far and away | quill

eleven

spoiler alert: this point on, far and away contains doctor strange spoilers.
thanks again for the reads!

Noise.

Ontario was a bustling planet, with roads in the sky and buildings in odd forms. But it was beautiful nonetheless.

She took the lead and pushed through large masses of people, as Stephen followed close behind. Apologizing for her abrupt actions.

They reached a stretch of clearing in the crowd and he finally touched her shoulder. The rest made it and she turned, mumbling.

"Quinn, running into everyone won't make this go any quicker," he started.

She was quiet, looking at him for a long time. She examined every detail of his worried face, "Gamora, she's close." She looked between them, "Come on."

She led the way, this time Stephen didn't let her out of his sight.

Quinn looked briefly at him, his Stone was tucked inside his garments. He caught her looking and she moved her gaze quickly to the line of vendors.

A certain green woman stood by a textile cart, asking a man for direction.

Quinn saw her first. She broke into a sprint, the few people in her way obediently moved. Stephen followed, without doubting her reasoning.

Gamora had been a good hundred yards when they first saw her, but was now only fifty or so from Quinn.

The rest of the crew saw her run, but waiting until they saw her actual target. They caught up with Stephen.

"I'm going after her, she'll need backup," Rocket said, placing a furry paw on his blaster. Without a word, he ran at his full speed after the girl.

Gamora looked down the sidewalk just in time to see Quinn sprinting towards her. She dropped the map and took off.

This part of the sidewalk wasn't nearly as dense, there were people scattered on benches and that was about it other than vendors; this gave room to run.

Gamora hurried away with her long strides. Before they knew it, she turned back with a blaster raised. She missed the three shots she took frantically, hitting alien-like bushes and the cement ground.

Quinn ran after her still; a hand on the daggers that lay under her cloak in the back of her dark jeans.

"Stop running Gamora! We need your help!" She yelled as she gained speed.

"No! I want no part," Gamora yelled back. They were gaining fast, and she knew it.

Rocket came up on Quinn's side, pulling out a small disk and throwing it rather skillfully, towards Gamora. It opened in mid-air, revealing a net, and trapped the green woman in its ropes. She toppled onto the ground.

"I don't care if you don't want to help," Quinn said as she approached her, "You're going to."

She squirmed as Peter came, lifted her up and over his shoulder.

"To Eerie," Quinn said quietly and looked around. The people of Ontario had formed a crowd and watched them with disgust; she placed a hand on her chest. Her face flushed.

"We need to get out of here," Stephen said quickly and worked as her crutch to get them back to the ship, and helped her up the ramp and onto the couch.

She squirmed with agonizing sickness.

"Take off, will you?" Stephen demanded cruelly, "We have to get her out of here." Peter took off without protest.

"Where does it hurt?" Stephen asked her gently, quickly changing his tone. She placed a hand on her chest. She was having difficulty breathing, therefore unable to put words together to explain.

He nodded and rummaged through his things to find his med kit. He brought it back to her and took a needle out.

Stephen helped her to get her shirt off and pierced the needle in her chest with his shaking hands. She winced, he pulled out some clear liquid.

She took in lungfuls of air with greed and haste.

He took the needle out, setting it aside and sat against the couch.

She felt her back sweating, as well as her forehead. But she was okay.

"Occasionally, when one undergoes severe shock and paranoia, the body produces a liquid," she looked at the murky substance in the syringe. "It fills the lungs. You drown in your panic."

"Oh God, I could've died."

"Good thing you have a doctor on staff then," he mumbled, almost assuring himself he was still a doctor. He took his gloves off and looked at his hands sadly, "I thought I had the shaking under control. I'm sorry if it hurt."

"It's alright," she watched his hands as he had been doing. He clenched them into fists, just to let them go again.

"Tell me a story?" his request was almost inaudible, but she heard it. Because she heard everything. He sat against the couch, away from her.

"The one about Growing Up," she stated, "The orphanage let the kids go when they turned eighteen. And low and behold, I'd turned eighteen. It was a cold December day when I had packed my things up in the single suitcase they gave me and I left. I had no where to go, no known family. So I lived in an abandoned factory with some other kids my age and stayed there. My brother, who'd left years before me had cut off connections as soon as he left. I needed money, so I traded sex," he was quiet.

"I didn't work for a pimp or anything. Just friends of friends, I guess. Anyways I made enough to buy a little apartment. But I got arrested for prostitution and let out on good behavior and I got beat up one night when I was twenty and you operated on me."

He smiled to himself, she could see the edge of his lips curving.

"And you asked if I had anyone to call, I said no. Any home, again I said no. You said you'd give me one," she chuckled, "Imagine my surprise when a thirty-some, billionaire doctor, handsome as hell says he'll give you a home. You then got me into the space program and they got me out here within two years," she paused, "And you wrote an email to me one day during training."

Her voice faltered. He turned slowly, knowing what was coming. She said sadly and very meekly, "You said you were in an accident and you couldn't operate on people anymore. You couldn't work and you lost Christine. You said you could've died and that this hell - with your hands - was worse than death." She wouldn't meet his gaze. There was a deep emptiness in her stomach, it seemed unreachable.

"Then the emails stopped and I thought you did die. But then you finally sent one weeks, months later. Telling me about this place in Nepal called Kathmandu and telling me you were going to be healed. But I was sent into space in a tin can and the emails stopped again."

She paused, "The only way I saw or heard from you was from the news: the great Doctor Strange who saved the universe from Dormammo. I missed you so much."

He moved closer to her, "I missed you too. I couldn't talk to you because the program told me I wasn't allowed to. That you had to focus on the mission."

She smiled sadly and looked at him, "I'm not very good at staying on task."

He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Get some sleep," he stood and laid a blanket on her. "We'll be there soon."