Ever since he’d woken up and realized what was going on, Abe had been spending a lot of time in his office avoiding most of the normal patrons and his employees. He probably should have out searching for information on how this was possible and how to fix it, but he was more making sure that he didn’t tell someone about what was going on that he didn’t need to tell. Case in point, his granddaughter was working tonight, and Abe knew that he couldn’t suddenly tell her everything. The few people that had realized the truth had decided to tell a handful of people. Some were friends and some were those that might be able to get them back to Atlantis.
After his and Lissa’s conversation, Abe decided to tell Dr. Stephen Strange. He didn’t know him well, but he saw him occasionally at Dive, and he had memories from seeing him at Motherload too. He knew that Strange had abilities that he didn’t fully understand, but he was someone that might be able to at least see a possibility of getting out of this… even if he didn’t have full access to his abilities. Abe sure didn’t have his Moroi abilities just like he hadn’t been needing to drink blood ever since all of this started.
He was on his way out of his office and about to set off to find the doctor when, as luck would have it, the man himself had walked into the restaurant. Taking a breath, Abe walked over and as he did, he tried to think of the man’s name in this fake universe. Thankfully, he was fairly sure that he had the same first name just like Abe himself did.
“Hello…. Stephen, isn’t it?” He asked, just to make sure. “Do you have a moment? There’s something I wanted to ask you.” He motioned back towards his office. This wasn’t a conversation that needed to be overheard.
Stephen didn’t favour any particular bar or pub in Breck. He’d been careful not to. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to know people or that he was anti-social enough to not want to be a ‘regular’ but more because the more often he came to a place, the more they seemed to assume familiarity and with that usually came the questions, mostly about his hands.
The other reason for not wanting to be a regular came to mind when he was approached by the man he recognised as owning Motherload. He sighed softly and debated telling the man… Abe, he was fairly sure he was called… that he wasn’t a doctor anymore and if he had a medical issue he should take it to a clinic or a hospital. But from his experience, that never worked as well as it ought to. Though, since the man was gesturing towards his office, maybe it was about someone else.
“Sure,” he said resignedly. “Lead on. Though, you know I’m not a doctor anymore, right?” He had to try even if no one ever really listened.
Abe couldn't help but smile to himself as he led the other man back to his office. “I'm aware, yes. This isn't a medical need,” he assured him as the door was closed behind him. There was a much bigger issue at hand. Although, telling someone he barely knew that he needed medical advice might have been easier as opposed to explaining that they were all living in an alternate universe.
“Would you like something to drink?” He'd come into the bar, after all, so Abe could only assume. He offered a bottle of some of his personal stash and left it on the table. If Strange was anything like Abe, he'd probably need it later.
Abe leaned forward against the desk. “This is probably going to sound crazy, trust me I know exactly how it sounds, but here it goes. Everything you remember of Breckentale is a lie. It's a ruse, and somehow we've all been made to believe these are our lives. Your name is Dr. Stephen Strange, and you're a… well, to be honest I'm not quite sure what it is that you do.”
Not knowing how to properly explain himself, Abe paused for a moment. “Does the city of Atlantis mean anything to you? Aside from the old legends and stories of its existence.”
Stephen frowned a little when he was told it wasn’t a medical need. He wasn’t sure what else someone would need to talk to him about and he was tempted to toss it in and just leave. But curiosity made him follow Abe into the office, though he didn’t take a drink just yet. He wanted his wits about him when Abe told him about… whatever it was.
He regretted not having that drink when Abe started speaking. Breck was a lie? His life was a lie? His accident, his hands, everything? It was ridiculous. Ludicrous. And yet… something in the back of his mind started yelling at him. He shook his head, unsure if he was trying to deny it or just shake those intruding thoughts away.
“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that,” he blustered. “And… Atlantis? It’s a myth.”
The information was received precisely about how Abe expected it. If the shoe had been on the other foot, and Dr. Strange had been telling him that his entire life here was some sort of illusion, he probably would have laughed and said that the other man had already had a few too many drinks for the evening.
Instead, Abe nodded and poured a drink for himself. “I know how crazy it sounds,” he stated. “About our lives here, Atlantis, all of it.” Even the bits and pieces that he hadn’t even gotten into. That Strange was some sort of Master of the Mystic Arts and a sorcerer while Abe was a mortal vampire. Speaking of, those traits and his magical ability hadn’t quite come back to him in full yet. He didn’t miss the sensitivity to the sun, but he did miss his earth abilities.
“When I started to gain these memories, I thought I was going a bit crazy myself. Then I realized it started to make sense, and that this life had holes that I couldn’t explain.” Abe took a sip of his drink. “There are others,” he continued. “Others that also remember the lives we’re supposed to be living.”
Now Stephen did pour himself a drink. Part of him wanted to leave, to dismiss what Abe was saying as madness and go off and find somewhere else to drink. He didn’t though. Because even as he was thinking that, there was some part of him deep down that was saying it was true. He didn’t really want to believe it though. Why would he? His life here was… not what it had been. Not that he disliked all of it and goodness knows Riley was a large part of that but he didn’t like to think that someone could have done this to him. Or perhaps that had he done it to himself?
“What do you mean about holes you couldn't explain?” he asked with a frown. “And if I’m not… me, then who am I?”
“Pieces that began not to make sense. Family connections, life histories. It’s hard to explain, and I’m normally a man who likes to see the facts in front of him, but it was in part a feeling. This life here in Breck is much more normal, I suppose, than what I’m used to.” He thought about Stephen’s question for a moment and decided to go with the truth. A version of the truth.
“You’re still a doctor,” he started. “Or you were, from what I understand, although, you you’re involved much more deeply in the mystic arts. I don’t completely understand what it is that you’re able to do, but there’s another one of us with Atlantis memories that may. You two didn’t know one another, but you’re from the same world.” Daisy could likely at least be able to explain it better than he could himself.
“In Atlantis, we’re all fighting a war. There are agents, known as COS agents, that are fighting to end creativity. It’s our assumption that they’re the ones responsible for this. That they’ve somehow managed to use magic to put us all in a world where our lives are much different than what we’re used to in order to serve as a distraction.” He paused for a moment. “Does any of this ring any bells at all?”
Family connections? Stephen frowned. He had sisters and nothing seemed wrong about that… until it did. He had sisters. Even saying it his head didn’t sound quite right. Close but not quite there. And when he thought about his life and everything that had happened to him, again it was… just not quite right. Some things didn’t raise alarm bells but then others… it felt like he’d stubbed a mental toe or something.
“Okay,” he said slowly and he took a big drink. “Okay. That’s... “ He wasn’t sure what to say really then the reference to the mystic arts sunk in. “Mystic arts? Like magic?” He scoffed. “I don’t even believe in aromatherapy, why would I believe in magic?”
And yet, even as he said it, he felt that sensation of mentally stubbing a toe as it were. Like he was banging up against an invisible wall. He frowned as the image of a woman came to mind. A bald woman wearing strange yellow clothing. She was standing on the balcony of a building, watching an impossibly slow lightning storm. He lurched to his feet, fumbling the glass to the table and ignoring the way some of the liquor sloshed over his scarred hand.
He looked down at the back of his hands, at the familiar scars running along his fingers. A car accident. He was driving his Lamborghini on a mountain road in the rain and he lost control. That all felt right in his mind. Nick did his best but the nerve damage was too severe, the golden hour had passed while they were still trying to find him. That also felt right. He tried every surgical solution under the sun until he started getting knocked back. Yes, that was right. Failing that he… left and came back to Breck…
He shook his head as though trying to get rid of an errant thought. “My hands,” he said in a low but still audible tone. “I was searching for a solution to my hands and Etienne knocked me back. I went…” He paused. “Jonathan Pangborn. Why do I know that name?”
Abe sat at the desk calmly as he watched the Doctor process all information that he was giving him. He could only imagine what memories and pieces of his actual past were flashing through his mind. In some ways, he felt a twinge a guilt for revealing this to him, especially if he was living out a happy life here, but not enough to stop him. His or anyone else’s fake happy life wasn’t worth letting COS win by keeping them locked inside this bubble.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know that name,” Abe told him. The truth was, he didn’t know the other man as well as some others he could have told that were closer to him, but those others wouldn’t be able to help get them back home. Not unless that solution required beating up someone.
“But, yes, magic. From what I understand, you are one of the most powerful sorcerers of your world. For some reason, here in Breck, none of us have our abilities, but I think they may begin to return slowly once we know the truth. I, myself, have the ability to move or manipulate pieces of the earth only I’m not nearly at my full strength.” Abe picked up the glass, ignoring the spilled liquor on the desk, and poured a bit more. He thought Strange might need it. “We need to figure out a way to get all of us back home, Doctor, and we need your help.”
It was as though speaking Pangborn’s name out loud had broken some sort of dam and various memories washed through his mind even as he heard what Abe was saying. The memories started with things that were benign or not that different from what he thought was real - his meeting with Pangborn, his argument with Christine (which in the life he’d thought was real had been far less heated - though still disgracefully spiteful on his side), Kathmandu and the attempted mugging. The memories that came in the wake of those were enough to make him fumble his way back into his seat - his first introduction to magic with his tour of the multiverse, training, the Eye of Agamotto, Dormammu… Thanos.
He picked up his glass with hands that were shaking for more reasons than just the nerve damage and took a drink. He remembered Atlantis now and the war. Then something else hit him - Riley… or rather Tony. He paled a little as he recalled their lovely little domestic life in the last month and how in real life none of it was true… and how much he wanted it to be true. He firmly shoved those thoughts aside. He could have an existential breakdown over them later.
“I… think I have a headache,” he said dryly as he took another drink. “I’m just not sure how much of that is real and how much is metaphorical.” He looked over at Abe and suspected he looked as shaken as he felt. Still, he hadn’t been one of the best neurosurgeons in the world - and now the Sorcerer Supreme - by not being able to think and act past his own shock. “Okay, so… magic is real, I’m a sorcerer and this…” He waved a hand. “Is not real.”
He made the hand gestures that should result in two small shields - the Shields of the Seraphim - but nothing happened beyond a few golden sparks. “And you’re correct about how much access we have to our powers. Alright, you have my help.”
“I’m fairly certain I’ve had a headache for the last several days,” Abe said with a sigh and took a drink. Maybe even longer since the unusual feeling of something not being quite right had been going on for a week or more before the memories came back completely. Aside from the 24-hour coma he was in, of course. That had actually been a nice reprieve all things considered.
“Pretty much, yes,” Abe said about all of this being real or not real. It was hard to explain, but thankfully the Doctor seemed to be catching on pretty quickly. At least he didn’t run out of the room claiming he was insane. “And, thank you. I know how jarring it feels to find out that all of this is only an illusion.” One he was very ready to be free of soon.
“There are a handful of us that know the truth. You heard about the group of us that fell into comas earlier this week? We’ve all known for a few days, and after… whatever happened to put us under, we decided that it was best to tell a handful of people what we knew to see if we could reverse what put us here. I’ll can contact the others to set up a meeting with the entire group later tonight or tomorrow to start going over a plan.”
Stephen smiled wryly. “One thing you learn as a surgeon is how to internalise your freak outs while staying calm and competent on the outside. Add to that my first introduction to magic was a tour of some of the more mind-bending corners of the multiverse. So… I’ll fall apart later.” Or rather he would meditate, if he could find somewhere where Tony wasn’t likely to find him. He knew he’d have to tell him sooner rather than later. Even in this reality, Tony was incredibly observant and intelligent and Stephen had no illusions about his ability to keep up the charade of being Stephen Sampson with someone he lived with for any length of time. “Illusion or another alternate universe? Or a combination of the two?”
He nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. How long have your powers been coming back? Does anyone have an estimated timeline on how long that’s likely to take?”
Abe tilted his head a bit to the side in consideration. “A combination of both is possible. We’ve discussed something magical, sophisticated tech, or a combination of the two. If this is COS, anything might be possible.” Or this could have been just a simple Atlantis mishap. One that affected everyone for a much longer period of time than any of the other instances ever had since his time here.
“I’ve only been ‘awake’ for… four or five days now? A few others have known a day or two longer. As far as I know, no one has their full abilities back, but it may also depend on the power or how powerful that person is.” As someone who could manipulate the earth or earth substances, Abe wasn’t going to be causing any mini earthquakes anytime in the near future. “Hopefully sooner rather than later if we’re going to get back to reality.” He finished off his drink and sat the glass back down on the table.
“What’s the old saying?” Stephen said dryly. “Any sufficiently advanced technology will be indistinguishable from magic? I can attest to there being some truth in that.”
“I’ll be able to monitor how fast my own abilities are returning through meditation,” he said thoughtfully. “I can already tell that the connection to the multiverse is there but it feels like there is… not a wall precisely but some sort of impediment. As though I was walking through fog. My destination is there but I just can’t see it just yet.”
Abe smiled slightly. The saying Stephen repeated reminded him a bit of his favorite alchemist and the way she eventually strengthened her magical skills to that in a lot of ways went along with her knowledge of the sciences. “The longer I’ve been in Atlantis, the more I find that to be true,” he said with a nod.
“It may happen a lot like my memories did except more slowly. I remember everything all at once. Little hints here and there, dreams, and eventually everything came back. Hopefully it’ll be sooner rather than later, so we can figure out how to get back to where we’re supposed to be.” More or less all things considered.
“I’ll contact the others and we can set up a time to meet. I’ve been hiding back here more often than normal, so I should probably show my face out front a bit.” He didn’t want Taisia, or he supposed she was Montana here, to come back asking questions he couldn’t answer. He had an excellent poker face, but she knew him better than most people. “Feel free to stay here and gather your thoughts as long as you need.”