Alex shook her head, hiding a smile when Carol strode into Stephen’s lab space on one of L-Corp’s lower floors. She wasn’t overly familiar with the older woman - they knew each other from Defense and from mutual mingling spaces - but they shared a name, and Alex liked her. There was no hint of self-consciousness in this woman. It reminded Alex of Kara in Supergirl mode - all power and very aware of it. She didn’t have a care in the world, and why should she?
While Alex busied herself readying the syringe and tubes for blood collection, Carol headed right over to Stephen, pulled out a stool, and looked up at him with a big grin.
“Reporting for duty, Doc. Which of you two medical brains has the honor of sucking the blue blood out of my veins this fine morning?”
Two Danvers ladies, in the same space - it was definitely a wild time, but Stephen wasn’t complaining. The med lab he’d taken over from where Ravi was first set up wasn’t particularly large, however, it was sleek and shiny and all stainless steel and state of the art equipment - older labs tended to smell acrid and bitter because of certain odors sinking into wooden fixtures and being released back, but this was all brand new. Reminded him of those young, promising days when he’d been a med student - or even pre-med, toiling away at Columbia University.
“I think I’m going to do you first, then Alex will do me,” Stephen replied, completely deadpanned - as if he was unaware how terrible that sounded but come on. He didn’t make dirty jokes often at all, let him have this one.
His hands were a constant problem but he would use magic to steady them for simple tasks - a flow of Eldritch energy that ignited his veins and smoothed over any shakiness; impossible to do it for an eight-hour brain surgery but certainly feasible for his day-to-day work in the medical field (something he never thought he’d get back into - funny how things happened sometimes). “Just give me your arm, please, if you don’t mind,” he added as he rolled his own stool closer to where Carol was sitting.
Alex ignored the dirty joke (too easy, Stephen, you’re better than that) and handed over the proper equipment - a syringe with an enchanted needle, most prominently. She wondered vaguely if that would be a better solution for Kara in the future. Kryptonite needles had served their purpose over the years, but they also hurt Kara. Alex had never been entirely comfortable with even small amounts of Kryptonite making its way into her sister’s bloodstream. Maybe magic would be a little less potentially harmful.
Carol, meanwhile, obeyed, extending her arm out for Stephen to poke. No need to roll up any sleeves here - it was still chilly outside, but the temperature meant nothing to her, and she had come out here in a t-shirt and jeans. Occasionally, she’d have her Air Force jacket on just to keep up appearances, but Emme had taken that hostage and wouldn’t give it up easily. She didn’t mind all that much, though; there was something satisfying about having her name stamped across the woman she loved.
“You can do us both in your dreams,” she teased him, smirking and stretching out her fingers, keeping her arm very still. She wasn’t mature enough to let that dirty joke pass, sorry. “Maybe you can magically straighten us out.”
Agamotto’s bones. Well done, Carol, Stephen was impressed. He snorted a laugh, slipping on a pair of latex gloves - a careful gesture, slow, a lot slower than he’d been in his neurosurgeon days though certainly just as meticulous. “Not even all that straight myself,” he admitted - it was true. He could go either way with who he was attracted to - either way, any way, it didn’t matter to him as long as they challenged him. Strange didn’t fall in love easily but when he did he was all in, a continuous and mesmerizing eclipse. “But I’d do my best.”
He thanked Alex for the needle, which he’d enchanted earlier - hard to tell, save for the slight glow about it, an orange luminescence that looked like the syringe had been dipped in shimmering merthiolate. But his hands were steady and he’d done this countless times - he tied the tourniquet on Carol’s arm, gently tracing veins with his index finger to find the right one. “I do appreciate this,” Stephen added. “Not that I expect to have the cure for the common cold here or anything but I guess you never know. Plus it’s good work that keeps me busy.”
“I don’t mind,” Carol told him. She’d joked about being called out by name, but she’d have volunteered regardless. No one had blood like hers, and even without being bonded to the Space Stone, she’d have given it to Stephen or whomever (assuming they were trustworthy) if they thought it might be helpful in some way. Even if this was only to satiate Stephen’s curiosity, she had no problem with it.
“The Kree don’t have the same types of illnesses Terrans do,” she added, watching as the needle pierced her skin without so much as flinching. She’d been hit with much, much worse; even a magically-enhanced needle was nothing. “I guess the cure for the common cold could be in there. Hard to say. But feel free to use it if it works.”
Needle inserted into the skin, Stephen watched (kind of fascinated), as blood flowed into the tube - because as he expected, Carol’s blood was blue. Dark blue like a southern summer night, close to charcoal but not quite there - even if the cure for the common cold wasn’t in there, he imagined that other interesting components would be; she had her own defenses against illnesses now, a superhuman durability and metabolism, and that was something to study too.
“My blood’s not green,” he chuckled, watching to make sure he didn’t take too much blood or that nothing went wrong - everything was flowing nicely, however. “But I didn’t have the same bonding experience with the time stone that you had with the space stone. I only held it once - and I don’t even think I was supposed to. Wanda made sure I didn’t disintegrate though.” That felt like so long ago, back when they’d been spirited away to ancient Vallo.
Once the first tube filled up, Alex handed over another. She wasn’t sure how many Stephen was banking on, but she figured two minimum was a safe bet - it would keep Carol from having to come back in if they needed another sample for some reason. Personally, she was already eager to see the difference in her antibodies; she figured it had to be more similar to Kryptonians than to Earthlings.
“Good job on not disintegrating, let’s keep it that way,” Carol chuckled. “But you know my blood’s blue because it’s Kree blood, not because of the Space Stone, right? Transfusion from my old mentor.” That last word was drawled out in a deeply sarcastic tone. “I wouldn’t bet on the Time Stone turning your blood green.”
“Oh, is that it? I assumed otherwise. Interesting,” Stephen remarked, swapping out the collection tubes - two was definitely a safe amount. He’d have lots to work with. “Or maybe I just didn’t get to hear about everything that happened with the Kree. They seem like a bunch of dicks.”
Fascists. A brutal authoritative regime, a bloated military, a very ‘Big Brother is Watching’ with the constant anti-Skrull propaganda because that war had been going on for an eon or so - yeah, definitely pass on the whole shebang and he could see why Carol wanted no part of that once she learned the truth about who she was. What they’d kept from her, wanting to control her.
There we go. He had enough blood so he withdrew the needle and put a smiley face bandage on her arm where the pinprick was, even if she didn’t technically need a bandage at all. “You’re just your own special sort of anomaly, Danvers.”
Maybe Carol hadn’t gotten around to telling him that - honestly, it made sense. She’d talked to him a lot about her travels, the other planets she’d been, and some of the alien species she’d encountered. But she wasn’t particularly proud of her time with the Kree. She hadn’t even talked much about it with Emme, but thankfully, she had almost three decades worth of other space adventures she did like talking about.
“I mean, you’re not wrong,” she agreed, because who was she to deny being special. She brushed a finger over the smiley face bandage with a grin - it wouldn’t be necessary in about five minutes, but she appreciated it anyway. “I’m an anomaly and the Kree are absolute dicks. But that’s not how they spin it on Hala, trust me. The Kree are the saviors of the universe, saving everyone from the evil, shapeshifting Skrulls.”
Stephen rolled his eyes. “Gross,” he replied - seemed like he was definitely correct about his dickhead assessment. He hadn’t had the greatest experiences with space travel - being brought on board Ebony Maw’s torture ship, to be poked with surgical needles in an effort to get him to spill the location of the time stone, had been a harrowing experience and something he still tended to have nightmares about to this day. Maybe he should just leave the plundering of the cosmos to others - though he certainly had his share of dealing with otherworldly entities too, as a Master of the Mystic Arts.
“Glad that you’re not buying the bullshit they’re selling,” he added, taping a label onto the blue-blood tube. Mission accomplished. “Alright, anomaly - I guess it’s my turn to be poked. Do you want to stay and watch?”
It likely wouldn’t be very interesting but they could chatter through it and Stephen wouldn’t have to focus on how he had a needle in his arm.
“I’ll hang out,” Carol agreed. “Do you have any idea what you think you’re gonna find?” She didn’t have anything else pressing to deal with at the moment, and while lab work wasn’t really her forte, she was obviously curious. This was probably as close to the stereotypical ‘alien kidnapped by the U.S. government and experimented on’ experience as she was going to get.
“Personally, I’m hoping for green blood,” Alex joked. She was no slouch here either - she may not have gone into medical practice, but she had done a chunk of her residency in Seattle before returning to California to finish off her bioengineering Ph.D. Applying the tourniquet was effortless, as was finding the right vein and slipping the needle into Stephen’s arm.
“If only,” Stephen sighed with faux-dramatics, but alas, he was pretty sure his blood ran crimson. The Vishanti knew he bled a lot during whatever battle had the world at stake (the one he’d seen Carol at had been the last one, on the banks of the Hudson where they all fought Thanos and his army) and he didn’t recall anything special there. Touching the time stone likely would not have changed that.
But - he had a feeling something about him had changed. He couldn’t put his finger on what, however. “No idea what we might find but I’ve been...having a weird time with eating,” he admitted. “Wanda told me to get it checked out, so I guess I am now.” By having Alex take his blood - he wasn’t squeamish, since doctors generally couldn’t be. He never had been, not really. There were always a few fainters during the first autopsy in medical school - Stephen wasn’t one of those who needed to develop a thicker hide. It was like he’d been born for this - whatever this was.
“Maybe something will show up in the bloodwork, anyway.”
Alex frowned, brows furrowed in concern. She wished he’d led with that, so she could have taken the time to do a little research, but at least she knew now. But he was right - blood work would probably help answer that question. And if it didn’t, she would subject him to whatever battery of tests he needed to piece it together.
“It’s worth a look,” she agreed, pulling one full vial free and popping in another. She probably didn’t need to take the same amount they’d taken from Carol when they had much easier access to this spigot, but it couldn’t hurt. “What do you mean by ‘weird time with eating’?”
“Yeah,” Carol chimed in. “Was it just a bad pie or something? I’m sure even Wanda makes bad pies sometimes. Is that sacreligious to say?” Even the Scarlet Witch had to drop some bombs every once in a while, right?
Well. Stephen didn’t want to be rude, but - yeah, not all of Wanda’s pies had been tasty hits. The sweet potato one was just - maybe don’t try that experiment again, honey. But he’d eaten it then. He ate all of her pies, all of her kitchen experiments - he liked when the Sanctum smelled like baked goods or caramelized sugar, when it felt homey and not so chilly and dreary. The way it often felt when he was living there with Wong.
“It’s not sacrilegious to say but we’ll keep it between us,” he snorted a laugh. “However, no - I don’t think it was the pie. It’s everything I eat, unless it’s very bland. I used to love, say, spicy noodles. No problem there. Now I can’t keep them down.” It felt like acrobats were throwing knives around in his stomach before any attempted spicy noodles were swiftly ejected.
He once lived in an apartment, during his Columbia days, where the landlord bought a fifty dollar washing machine and set it up as kind of a ‘here you go, so you don’t have to beat your clothes on rocks’ - that was his stomach, that rattling and twisting, whenever he attempted spicy food. “I doubt it’s a big deal, maybe I just need to change my diet,” he shrugged. Hopefully he was still on the timeline where he fathered Iryna, and he couldn’t do that if he was dead.
“Old age hits us all, buddy,” Carol teased him, patting his shoulder. Alex rolled her eyes at her. “Well, it does,” she persisted. “Except for me, I’m sexy and ageless forever. Not sure if that one’s due to the Kree or the Space Stone, to be honest with you.” She was older than both of them but had no complaints so far. Maybe that would change once she hit the century mark.
“Well, neither of them have damaged your ego, that much is clear,” Alex bantered back. She popped the second vial loose and set it on the countertop before slowly pulling the syringe out of Stephen’s arm and followed it up with another smiley face bandage.
Oh, he got a smiley face bandage too? Excellent. Stephen was pleased. “Maybe since I’m old I can get away with not having to save the world all the damn time,” he groused but no - likely that wouldn’t happen, because no one else was going to step up to do it. To be the one to slip into the role of making hard decisions, for the greater good, decisions that weren’t always going to be one-hundred percent moral. It was just the way of things.
Heartbreak and hard decisions, the very core of what he was about - and as much as he’d tried to build a titanium wall around that heart to keep him away from forming connections with others, he couldn’t. Guess that meant he deserved all the misery coming to him, then.
“We’ll see what happens, I guess,” Stephen rolled his sleeve back down. “Now, I think I said something about coffee before?” He could keep that where it was supposed to be, at the very least. Probably.
“You guys go ahead,” Alex told them, already busy capping Stephen’s vials and scrawling his name across the labels. She was caffeinated enough after her chat with Stephen in the penthouse, and she might as well focus her mind on work so she didn’t feel too tempted to drink. “Whole Latte Love is pretty good, it’s right downstairs in the lobby. I’m going to run Stephen’s samples now and see if we can get your stomach issues diagnosed.”
“Sounds like an order to me, Doc,” Carol sing-songed, grabbing onto both his shoulders and giving him a little shove toward the door. “Buy me coffee and I’ll have you back here in thirty. I deserve it for my donation.”