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Although she was close to the two and even more so to Stephen, it was always odd for her to ask them for help. Being vulnerable in front of an adult was something she never had the luxury all her life. She only ever had someone take care of her a few years ago, and even then, it was interrupted.

"How did they get this deep? And they're infected." Strange muttered as he stitched her wound one by one. An uncomfortable sense of familiarity lingered in his head, looking at her hands. It was taking them time to finish both hands since there were so many wounds in each one. She winced and hissed throughout the process. "I'm almost done with this one. It won't take too much time."

The information he was giving her seemed completely irrelevant and useless to her. She wanted to talk to him, but she almost literally couldn't. Her mind was too busy replaying everything that happened but at the same time trying to ignore flashbacks. She wanted to cry, to reach a point of catharsis, but she was also too numb to do so.

"Uh...right, okay." Stephen nodded and reached for the bandages. She snapped out of her trance and realized he'd been talking for a while, now. She had just missed something that he said.

"What?,"

"I said what happened back there? We thought you were dead, I thought I would never see you again,"

"So did I." she started and watched him start to wrap one hand. She remembered all the walls, the concrete, the pain, the blood that her eyes were exposed to not even an hour ago, and she suddenly shot up.

Stephen jumped at her behavior and watched her think of what to do next. She paced back and forth around the room and he followed her with concern. "What are you-,"

"-Just leave me alone, please! For one second of your life just get off my back!" She snapped and let the silence take over them. She slowly returned from the high and turned back to him before he could leave. A look of hurt was in his eyes that he so clearly tried to hide. "Wait, I'm sorry, I'm...that was mean, I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry,"

"It's...okay, I get it. A lot can happen in six days," he sat back down. He was picking out every word in his head and treated her like a bomb.

"Six days? I was gone for six days?," she breathed out in shock. It finally dawned over her that time in Havoc worked differently in earth: 6 days is 3. She just missed six days of her life in a labyrinth.

"Come on, let me finish your hands." He gestured and she plopped down on the cushioned seat. He tried to make sense of her current physical state but couldn't. "Hazel, what happened?"

She breathed deeply to try and retell the story, but she didn't know where to begin. Stephen was reaching for a strand of her hair.

"Only if you'll allow me to." He announced and she nodded.

He amplified the strand of hair into a long rope of gold that he wrapped around his hand. He sat down on the floor on a meditative position and muttered some rituals to look into her memory. For a couple of seconds, his head whipped from left to right and a stressed expression appeared on him.

She slowly stepped to him with concern and his eyes bursted open. A thin film of sweat formed on his fore head and nose and he took a moment to gather himself.

"You didn't have to do that, I could've just told you-,"

"-how did you..." he stood up from his seat and wrapped her in an embrace that took her aback.

There was a silence in the air, and it was the kind that was both comforting, yet bleak. She continued to let the fluids in her eyes well up and she tried to calm herself down. She was hiccuping and trembling in his arms, and they shared the moment with almost painful empathy. He was urged to crush her with a cathartic hug, but he was gentle with her.

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