Pull | Infinity War

Chapter 6: "So you joined a pajama-wearing cult? Is that it?"

Now Playing: A Simple Twist of Fate: Bob Dylan

They sat together in the park

As the evening sky grew dark

She looked at him and he felt a spark

Tingle to his bones

Stephen's humming sent vibrations through her head as she leaned against him, swaying to the tune. Occasionally, he'd mumble a verse under his breath and go back to humming. Eventually, Iris began to mumble along too, but she refused to sing, she always did.

Strange moved them back and forth; it was a bit sloppier than the first time they'd danced to the song, but considering they were dancing to their own voices and not a music player, Iris was pleasantly surprised.

Stephen tried to stretch their semi-peaceful time. Iris suspected he added a few measures that were repeats of the beginning, but she didn't comment. It was nice to pretend nothing was wrong and they were dancing in his living room instead of an alien spaceship.

He stopped humming but his arms around her didn't move. They stood still, and Iris felt his lips on top of her head. She let out a sigh into his chest.

"Can we stay like this? Just for a little while?" She chuckled under her breath and poked him in the back, next to his spine. It made him jump a bit, to which she giggled more.

"If I say yes, I'll never get an explanation. Besides, the song's over, it has been for a minute and a half."

"Caught me, have you?"

"I am victorious." He chuckled. 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." 

"Hey, that's my saying." 

"Well, it's mine now." Iris poked him again, making him jump in her arms. "You little-" Strange picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder like she was a rag doll. She squealed and laughed, a good, loud laugh she hadn't felt in a long time. 

Stephen walked over to where she'd previously sat, plopped her down on the ledge and sat down next to her, arm around her waist, her head leaning against his shoulder. 

"Fun time's over Pajama Man, time for explanations." He raised his eyebrow at her. 

"Pajama Man? Excuse me?" Iris shrugged. 

"You have a better name, Doctor?" 

"Several Miss Cunningham, perhaps my simple first name will suffice." 

"There you go again, talking like you belong in the 20th century and not the 21st." He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Where do you want me to begin."

"How about where you left and never came back? Because I would very much like to know where you ran off too, and I swear if there was another girl involved I-" 

"Will kick my ass here and now? I figured as much." 

"You know me too well. So talk Magic Man." 

"Magic Man?" 

"Stephen!" He held up his hands in surrender. 

"Fine, fine. You remember the car crash, right?" Iris nodded. The call she'd received from Christine late one night froze the blood in her veins. And when she actually saw him -unconscious with his hands propped up on medical platforms, cuts, and bruises littering him from head to toe -she had a heart attack.