For every one of those reasons - that they had always been linked somehow, either out of friendship or something much more - Stephen knew that there was little use in sparing her all of the further details. Not now. Not when she was bearing witness to what he had been hearing over the past few months. Before he became aware that destiny had other mysterious mechanization for him, and for whoever else had been earmarked of importance. He considered the further possibility that those close to people of greater importance were now being lured into this mess. It hadn't been this bad at first, just a minor tinkling noise amidst the all encompassing hush of the astral plane. As time passed, it began to grow in intensity, ebbing between a state of stability and moments where it seemed like everything might shatter to pieces. Yet it held its own. And the other him, in the other timeline, didn't seem to be affected or notice any inconsistency over there at all. They hadn't spoken, but that was because Stephen was a strong proponent of not interfering, especially where time travel was concerned. This was his problem and his home universe.
"Everything I've studied says it should settle into its own. Eventually. In the meantime, there will be...inconsistencies," was his matter-of-fact reply. These days he sounded like he knew more than anyone else did, only without talking down to someone at the same time. "I'm guessing there will be periodic bleed-over from the primary timeline, and from other timelines. That's why there were sharks in tornadoes. Must have been a busy day in the emergency department. And if I used the time stone when it sounds like this? It could shatter everything."
Thankfully, the din quieted back down again. Stephen's eyes darted back and forth as he listened, before he focused back on Christine with a tight smile.
"Relative stability."
He found himself wishing that they had reached some form of stability, before the accident and the mystic route he set out on. He was a different person then. Arrogant and dismissive of anyone he viewed as inferior. That had extended to Christine's life calling, choosing to save drunk idiots with guns from their own stupidity. How often had he looked down at patients like they were Darwin Award honorees, and now he had the population of an entire planet to safeguard. The irony of this was not lost on him.
Even if Stephen was still resting his hands on Christine's shoulders, he always felt a disconnect from everyone and everything. Once upon a time, it had been his ego and intellect getting in the way. Now, it was the side-effect of knowing more than was ever imagined in humanity's wildest dreams, and from having one foot on Earth while the other was tap-dancing around in limitless dimensions.