InsaneJournal

WHO: Christine Palmer and Stephen Strange
WHERE: Their apartment
WHEN: Tuesday Afternoon
WARNINGS: Mentions of death and general sadness but also with some feelings mixed in
SPOILERS? None!


Curiosity was a dangerous thing. Especially when you had just recently been pulled through time and space into the future. The movement had caught her attention, though. It was brief and mostly in her peripheral at first. Bats? Hadn't others mentioned bats recently?

The mug filled with hot tea hit the floor first, shattering upon impact. Where once the pristine interior of the apartment was, was now the large, empty surgery room. One that was all too familiar for Christine. Her hands were working on a large syringe, Stephen Strange laying on a table in front of her.

Lights swayed and Stephen, transparent and ghostly-looking, called out for her to hurry but also to be careful.

There was another crash behind her, a rolling tray falling over as a light shorted out with a spray of sparks. "Stephen? Stephen, stay with me, okay?" Despite the chaos that was taking place behind whatever astral veil Stephen had mentioned, Christine kept a steady hand. Even when whatever force he was battling collided with her, she took in a sharp breath to keep her hands still.

It wasn't working, though. It was a simple procedure, but something was wrong. Had she hit something? Was the monitor shorting because of everything else happening? "Stephen, we're almost done. Do you hear me?" There was silence, an eerie stillness, and Christine stole another glance at the monitor.

Flat line. That terrifying sound was deafening now.

"No...no. Stephen!" The cart was just out of reach no matter how close Christine got to it. "Stephen, hang on. Please. Stephen!"

She was on the floor of the apartment, knees of her jeans soaked from the spilled tea. It may have burned slightly, but Christine didn't feel it. She could just barely hear herself calling for Stephen, begging for him to hang on, over sobbing.