This was crueller than the wedding. Strange turned as the world around them changed to his old apartment, to the time and place before his hands had shattered and he'd become... this. All he'd had in life was ego, reputation and her. He hadn't appreciated the sight before him at the time, but he did now. Pink, raw skin, ratted hair dripping wet, and an air of innocence and kindness that belied her need to prove him wrong at every turn. Stephen knew he was a masochist, but, for a second, he wanted to stay stuck in this place forever.
"She did," he said to Loki, blinking in confusion. "How... did it work?" Strange found that he couldn't let go of his connection to the man at his side either, whether by spell or by his own mind telling him to stay with the one real thing there.
But it was Christine. The only woman he could ever love more than himself, even if it hadn't been enough. "Christine?"