MARVEL IMAGINES

STEPHEN STRANGE • Get Better

As the weeks went by, the gaps between your boyfriend's presence outside the hospital dwindled. He went from coming in for 48 hours at a time when on call- to not leaving the perimeters for almost a whole business week.
The answer was in his eyes simplistic. You were dying, bed bound, and he needed to fix it. In the eyes of everyone else, however, he was being irrational and quite frankly stupid.

You had leukaemia. Your body was always drained of its energy, meaning that you don't usually get much further than your house and the hospital. For the past few weeks, you had been staying at the hospital. And as uncomfortable as it was sometimes, the hospital was really one of the best places for you, especially regarding the treatment that you so recently stopped.

The news broke to you a few days ago that you were reaching a terminal stage. Death was inevitable. This drew your boyfriend of 4 years, Stephen, into overdrive. He thought that them telling you that the only thing they can do is make you comfortable was ludicrous. You couldn't die. That was impossible. He was going to save you, whether the doctors liked it or not. He was a doctor himself, he was going to fix you.

Even if it took him to the end of his tether.

•••

"Stephen." You breathed, reaching for his hand, "you need to stop. Please. Sit down here and talk to me."

Stephen looked at you with hurt and glassy eyes. "No! I can't." He begged, "I need to go and–"

"Please." You squeaked in interruption, "I don't feel very good. I just want you next to me until I feel better." You reached out a hand once again, feeling a short sense of relief and betterment when he grabbed it softly with both hands. He sat on the chair next to the bed, pressing a soft kiss onto them.

"Fine. I'm here, honey, until you feel better. Then I'm going to check back on what I have done earlier, and see if any of the interns have had success."

You nodded numbly, your eyes beginning to feel increasingly droopy and tired. "I'm gonna have a nap, okay?" You whispered, "just stay for a little longer." You rested your head back onto the pillow, closing your eyes. Stephen watched as your body drifted off into a sleep, his eyes falling to his lap just as your heart rate begin to drop. With the rapid beeping of the machines, his head snapped up once again in confusion.

"Oh my god–" he jumped up, hitting the code blue button and sticking his head out the door, "I NEED HELP IN HERE!"

Nurses and doctors rushed in, pushing Stephen to the back to the room. He stood there helplessly, his hands behind his head. The doctors were shouting commands at the nurses- and each other- all of them echoing through his brain. He understood their phrases and code. He knew exactly what was happening to her. Stephen was helpless and alone.

—
ELLE x