Doc Strange, Amanda - Tuesday night
Dec. 14th, 2004 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsStrange comes in response to a call from Moira, bearing gifts, of a sort.
Footsteps, slow and measured, rang on the medlab floor. They belonged to a certain New York academic/magician, and his expression was grave as he made his way to the room Moira had told him Amanda was in.
Three days. That's how long the recharge had lasted. Three days free from the exhaustion and tension that was almost his student's default state these days, and now here he was again, summoned by another urgent phone call to the news that something else had happened. The beginnings of a headache throbbed in his temples, and he battled with the fear that three days had not been enough, that there hadn't been long enough for Selene's influence to be purged. Reminding himself that she'd had two of those days travelling through some of the purest mystical sites in North America, he pushed the door of her room quietly open, pausing in the doorway for a moment to take the sight of her in.
She was so young. That thought struck him regularly - when she came bouncing into his office, keen to get to work; when she made a mistake, and she'd give him that wide-eyed look as if half-expecting him to punish her; that day back in July, when the terrorists had attached the campus, and she'd seemed so small and broken in Nathan's arms… And now, curled up in the sterile-looking medlab bed, pale and drained, the dark circles back beneath her eyes, the amulet glowing fitfully as it tried to cope with the almost insurmountable task of replenishing what had been used. To his eyes, her personal energy levels were glowing as fitfully as the amulet. So small, so young, so fragile…
So brave. The thought came from nowhere, but it fit, and he smiled a little, coming in and closing the door behind him. "I wish you'd been able to last a little longer before the next heroic act, child," he said quietly as he took a seat in the chair by the bed. "But I'm very proud of you."
Amanda stirred a little, as if aware of his presence, but her sleep was too heavy - or the need to avoid the headache that she'd fled into unconsciousness to avoid too great - and she didn't wake. Dipping into the pocket of his suit, Strange drew out a crystal globe, its opaque depths lit by a slow burning reddish glow. "I brought you something," he went on softly, reaching over to place the orb in her upturned hand, laying her other hand limply on top and holding them in place with his own. "The Orb of Fortis - I know, you thought you'd drained it, but there is quite the market for the repair of mystical artefacts." There was a slight smile on his ascetic face as he said it, watching the light within the crystal flare up as Amanda's mutant power triggered. "It took some recharging, but here we are. After what Moira told me, I thought you'd need it."
Under his hands, Amanda's fingers twitched, tightened on the Orb, and her eyelids flickered, but still didn't open. "He'll recover, Mr Marko," Strange went on, gratified by those signs, and by the changes in her aura he could see. Her strength was growing - again, he found himself almost in awe of her mutation, its scope. "I spoke to Doctor MacTaggart… Moira. The three of you did something amazing there - I don't think it's ever been done before, in the history of science or magic. And Mr Dayspring…" He frowned. "He's as drained as you are, in his way. But Moira tells me he'll recover."
That got a response - Amanda stirred further, hands clenching spasmodically on the Orb, and with effort, she opened her eyes. "Nate?" she rasped, voice thick from the hours of sleep. "There was… light. So much light…"
Strange kept his hands wrapped around hers, a gesture his PhD students would have been surprised to see from him. "He'll recover," he reassured her gently. "The doctors are taking care of him."
"Light…" Amanda's eyes dropped closed, then opened again to meet his. "The spell… it'll hold?"
"Yes, it'll hold. You did well." Lifting one hand from hers, he brushed the hair out of her face. "But you need to rest."
"Don't think that's an issue, Doc," she said with a faint smile. "Dead tired."
"As you would be." Resting his fingertips lightly against her temple, he said one word. "Sleep." At his command, her eyes fluttered shut again, and her breathing deepened, evened out into regular sleep. But Strange wasn't done yet. Laying his hand over her forehead, he concentrated, the words soft but with unmistakable command: "One week. No magic. This geas I lay upon you." It wasn't a path he wanted to take, but even if Amanda gave him her word, there would be something that came up, some matter that she'd feel duty bound to fix… He'd tell Moira what he'd done before he left, ensure that the right people knew. And he would wear the consequences. Not the girl sleeping so peacefully now.
Footsteps, slow and measured, rang on the medlab floor. They belonged to a certain New York academic/magician, and his expression was grave as he made his way to the room Moira had told him Amanda was in.
Three days. That's how long the recharge had lasted. Three days free from the exhaustion and tension that was almost his student's default state these days, and now here he was again, summoned by another urgent phone call to the news that something else had happened. The beginnings of a headache throbbed in his temples, and he battled with the fear that three days had not been enough, that there hadn't been long enough for Selene's influence to be purged. Reminding himself that she'd had two of those days travelling through some of the purest mystical sites in North America, he pushed the door of her room quietly open, pausing in the doorway for a moment to take the sight of her in.
She was so young. That thought struck him regularly - when she came bouncing into his office, keen to get to work; when she made a mistake, and she'd give him that wide-eyed look as if half-expecting him to punish her; that day back in July, when the terrorists had attached the campus, and she'd seemed so small and broken in Nathan's arms… And now, curled up in the sterile-looking medlab bed, pale and drained, the dark circles back beneath her eyes, the amulet glowing fitfully as it tried to cope with the almost insurmountable task of replenishing what had been used. To his eyes, her personal energy levels were glowing as fitfully as the amulet. So small, so young, so fragile…
So brave. The thought came from nowhere, but it fit, and he smiled a little, coming in and closing the door behind him. "I wish you'd been able to last a little longer before the next heroic act, child," he said quietly as he took a seat in the chair by the bed. "But I'm very proud of you."
Amanda stirred a little, as if aware of his presence, but her sleep was too heavy - or the need to avoid the headache that she'd fled into unconsciousness to avoid too great - and she didn't wake. Dipping into the pocket of his suit, Strange drew out a crystal globe, its opaque depths lit by a slow burning reddish glow. "I brought you something," he went on softly, reaching over to place the orb in her upturned hand, laying her other hand limply on top and holding them in place with his own. "The Orb of Fortis - I know, you thought you'd drained it, but there is quite the market for the repair of mystical artefacts." There was a slight smile on his ascetic face as he said it, watching the light within the crystal flare up as Amanda's mutant power triggered. "It took some recharging, but here we are. After what Moira told me, I thought you'd need it."
Under his hands, Amanda's fingers twitched, tightened on the Orb, and her eyelids flickered, but still didn't open. "He'll recover, Mr Marko," Strange went on, gratified by those signs, and by the changes in her aura he could see. Her strength was growing - again, he found himself almost in awe of her mutation, its scope. "I spoke to Doctor MacTaggart… Moira. The three of you did something amazing there - I don't think it's ever been done before, in the history of science or magic. And Mr Dayspring…" He frowned. "He's as drained as you are, in his way. But Moira tells me he'll recover."
That got a response - Amanda stirred further, hands clenching spasmodically on the Orb, and with effort, she opened her eyes. "Nate?" she rasped, voice thick from the hours of sleep. "There was… light. So much light…"
Strange kept his hands wrapped around hers, a gesture his PhD students would have been surprised to see from him. "He'll recover," he reassured her gently. "The doctors are taking care of him."
"Light…" Amanda's eyes dropped closed, then opened again to meet his. "The spell… it'll hold?"
"Yes, it'll hold. You did well." Lifting one hand from hers, he brushed the hair out of her face. "But you need to rest."
"Don't think that's an issue, Doc," she said with a faint smile. "Dead tired."
"As you would be." Resting his fingertips lightly against her temple, he said one word. "Sleep." At his command, her eyes fluttered shut again, and her breathing deepened, evened out into regular sleep. But Strange wasn't done yet. Laying his hand over her forehead, he concentrated, the words soft but with unmistakable command: "One week. No magic. This geas I lay upon you." It wasn't a path he wanted to take, but even if Amanda gave him her word, there would be something that came up, some matter that she'd feel duty bound to fix… He'd tell Moira what he'd done before he left, ensure that the right people knew. And he would wear the consequences. Not the girl sleeping so peacefully now.
