The Strange-st Sorceress

Just How Bad is He?

THIS CHAPTER IS JUST MY WAY OF TRYING TO SQUEEZE AS MUCH PRE-MOVIE STUFF AS I CAN WITHOUT GETTING INTO THE PLOT TOO MUCH. SO...SORRY. THIS IS PROBABLY NOT VERY GOOD, BUT...YEAH, I WANTED TO WRITE THIS TO GIVE YOU A LITTLE MORE TO READ WHILE WE ALL WAIT FOR THAT STUPID DVD. *SIGH* ANYWAY, PLEASE REVIEW, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, ALL THAT JAZZ.

GOD BLESS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER

Bursting into the hospital, I catch my breath as I walk to the receptionist.

"I'm Stephen Strange's sister. H-he's been in a car crash." The woman smiled at me.

"Yes. I see." I recognized her voice as the one who had called and told me my brother was possibly severely injured and dying. She clicked a few keys on her keyboard and then frowned before turning to me with a sympathetic expression. "I...I'm so sorry. Your brother is in surgery right now. I don't know when he'll be, uh...when it'll be done." She swallows. I nod, tears brimming.

"Th-thank you. I-I'll wait...I guess." I swallow thickly and sit down in the farthest seat from the desk in the waiting room. I hang my head in my hands, allowing my emotions to overwhelm me. I end up sobbing on the floor, curled in a sitting fetal position, rocking back and forth as my tears hit the shiny white tiles.

What if Stephen does not survive the surgery? What if he is completely paralyzed? What if...what if he has no memories?

The possibilities, each of them worse than the others, raged in my head for a long time before someone touched my shoulder. I start and look up. It's Christine, looking pale, haggard, and ready to drop. I suppose I look the same, though, so I can't judge her.

"He's made it through surgery, as far as I know-I just got out of the operating room-but...we are still waiting for him to wake up." She says. I nod gratefully. She didn't sugarcoat it. She knew I would hate her for it. "I can take you to the room he'll be in after surgery, since you're blood-related, but...he's out cold, has been for several hours, and will probably stay that way for a long time..." She sounds as tired as she looks as I stand. I happen to see a clock over her shoulder. 3:45am. Oh, man...had I fallen asleep? "The chairs in his room will be more comfortable than the floor, at least." She says in an attempt to lighten the mood. I nod.

"Probably. Thank you. I mean it."

She smiles. "I know." I sigh and follow her lead as we wind down a few hallways. She yawns several times throughout our journey, and I let her lean on my arm for support. I'm wide awake compared to her, most likely, as she was just coming off surgery. She uses the support sparingly, but it's gratifying to know that we trust each other this much. Finally, we arrive at a bare hospital room with only the standard set-up of a room, but without a bed and my brother to greet me and tell me 'it looks worse than it is'. However, the illusion that Stephen would have, in any world, be able to speak after surgery and that coherently is shattered by the reality of his situation. Even after surgery, he would be in so much pain...it'd be a miracle he recognizes me and would try to talk to me at all, honestly. I sigh and collapse in a chair. Christine sighs, as well, yawning into the back of her hand.

"Listen, I've got to go back some sleep. When you wake up, Stephen should be here, I think. I dunno..." Another yawn has me smirking, despite everything.

"I got it. Go." I tell her and she's gone. I'm asleep again before I know she's replied.

The noise of a bed being wheeled in wakes me, but no one speaks, and soon enough they're gone and I fall asleep again.

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The nest thing I know, the sun shines in my eyes and there's an odd sensation against my thigh. I scrunch my eyes and reluctantly open them to find sunlight streaming in. I squint and blink and soon enough, my eyes are adjusted. I groan, my muscles popping and protesting. Then, I am aware of my jacket pocket vibrating. I look at the time even as I accept the call. I cringe. 10:15am. I was supposed to be at the library at 7:30am.