An Imaginary Throne // Doctor Strange // Far From Home

Chapter Four // duck

"MY NAME is Doctor Stephen Strange."

Eyes set on the horizon, he extends a hand to Casey. For a moment, she stares at his outstretched palm, considering her injured shoulder, then returns her gaze to his face with an embarrassed smile. His lips part in a silent 'oh' as it dawns on him and he quickly draws back, confidence faltering in a second of unease that all-too-quickly disappears behind another poker face. Casey swallows the lump in her throat, teetering on her toes. Something squeaks in the distance.

"I'm, I'm-" She stutters, momentarily overwhelmed, and he doesn't hesitate to interrupt.

"You're Adria. Kaecillius named you after your mother although I hear you go by Casey now which is understandable, all things considered."

"You knew my father?" She asks and he scoffs, turning his attention to Quentin.

"Now that's odd." He says.

You could say it's strange.

Skipping over a protruding rebar, Strange strides briskly toward him, the portal dispersing in his wake. Watching him squat by Quentin's body, Casey briefly considers running for the closing gateway, tempted by her proximity to safety. There it is, her best chance of escape from danger and instead of leaping at the opportunity, she is hesitating- choosing to stay on a collapsing bridge for the sake of a man who she's doubting more and more by the minute.

Casey observes from a distance as Strange moves toward Quentin, his fingers outstretched but curiously, never touching. It doesn't take long for her to see why. Long, white scars outline the bones of his hands. Surgical scars. It's far from a pleasant sight and she figures it's better not to bring it up so soon into their acquaintance, though her eyes linger noticeably.

"Are you going to help me?" She asks, as he faces her. Glad her hands have stilled, she removes the sling ring and traces the hallmark inside with the tip of her thumb. Under her touch, the engraving morphs into a complex symbol and when it has fully formed, she holds it out to him.

"If you do then this stays between us." She says, trying and failing to introduce confidence to her tone.

"Let me remind you I'm under no obligation to do that."

Though his disposition is stern, he accepts the ring. There's a wary glint in his blue eyes as he holds it up to the light.

"The beard might be misleading but I'm not the Ancient One. That seal means nothing to me." He speaks plainly, but his actions betray his words when he pockets the device.

"She's dead, isn't she?" It's a statement- a fact, but Casey phrases it as a question.

When he doesn't respond, she continues.

"And you don't respect her wishes?"

That makes him chuckle.

"You're an excommunicated member of the Mystic Arts and the daughter of a genocidal psychopath, forgive me for being a little hesitant."

Casey's throat closes up at the mention of her father but she fights past it, massaging her inner palm where the rubble has caused small indentations.

"Kaecillius cost me everything but my life, trust me when I say I want nothing more to do with him. I'm not asking you to let me back into the Academy. I know that's, that's near impossible but right now the people in that chopper are trying to kill me and you're my only hope. I don't care where you take me so long as it's away from here."

"Except, that's not all you want." He's implying Quentin, of course.

Before Casey can respond, a light pressure breaches the back of her hairline, nudging the nape of her neck. When she absentmindedly reaches for the itch, her fingers come across a sleek metal surface and she turns to see a bullet hovering behind her. Struggling to compose herself, she nudges it aside and returns her attention to Strange, awestruck.