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Hello! I just wanted to warn anyone who might be sensitive with talks of suicide/self image issues. Other than that, have fun.

The new Hazel was definitely something he had to get used to; it only dawned on him now that she wasn't a kid anymore. She'd be turning, what? 22, 23 years old, this year? She is a woman, now. A fully grown, adult woman. The thoughts weren't the easiest to comprehend, all the more accept. Stephen was going to change her bandages when he was taken aback by her new form. It was odd, entering the room and expecting to see a teenage girl. Granted, her mental age is probably triple, maybe even four times older than her physical one, but it was all still strange.

She looked so peaceful, laying on her bed. The light from her window kissed her face ever so gently, her hair was sprawled out on her sheets like a fan, and she looked even smaller wearing a large sweatshirt from the Metro General Hospital (that she had taken from him, and he'd deduced it months ago).

Her eyes fluttered open when a creaking gently sounded on her bed. She internally smiled when Stephen sat down the edge of her bed, but the only thing on her face was confusion.

"Don't mind me, I'll just be changing your bandages." He softly explained and placed the medical supplies down. She sat up with a small mutter of gratitude and stretched out her hands. The cold air stung the fresh wounds that were deep and raw from the hours of trauma. She inhaled sharply as he explained. "Of course, you could take the mystical approach to healing, but combining eastern and western medicine never hurt anybody- I just can't help myself, maybe it's the doctor in me."

There was a lightness in his voice that made her want to smile. She wanted to laugh along, grin, maybe even add to his joke like she always did, but it was almost impossible to. How can she smile when her hands were trembling, aching, raw- they look so...grotesque.

The medical supplies flew off the bed with one swift motion from her arms. The metal clanked to the ground and the roll of gauze unravelled all over the floor. There was no forethought before her actions, and the events only solidified when she observed his look of shock.

Hazel shot up from her bed and walked away from the room out of slight shame. It pained her, not being able to squeeze her hands to let her frustrations out. Her hands were ruined- there was no other way to put it.

"Hazel." He called out and stood a distance from her. There was sympathy in his expression, and he held his hands out. "You need to-,"

"6 years." She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes. "I've been doing this, defending the planet, for 6 years and...this is what happens to me?! You've got to be kidding me. This has to be some kind of sick joke,"

"You know that things like these happen for a reason. The universe works in ways we can't explain." He reminded and stiffened up his tone. This was completely expected from anyone who would have gone through the same thing, but she isn't just anyone: she is a sorcerer, maybe even the next Sorcerer Supreme. He couldn't decide whether he should empathise with her or lecture her. "The good thing is that you're alive,"

"Oh, yeah, great, I'm alive." She scoffed out with piercing sarcasm and threw her hands up. "So I can go on another mission and wreck another part of my body, almost lose my sanity, then heal so I can do it all over again!"

Being a doctor, he could recognise the outburst as an effect of trauma. The best thing to do is to let her cool off on her own, but what if this changes things? What if she abandons her craft? It felt like he was betraying her, when the idea of Hazel turning dark lingered in his head.

"The universe is a twisted, abusive force that preys on the weak and takes advantage of the strong. It...feeds off of people's resilience and...it never stops, does it?" Her voice broke and her posture dropped after the epiphany. She was disgusted by it, but more so herself when she stared at him. He looked at her with concern and pity, but there was an undertone of fear and caution in his eyes- it was like she was going to explode. "Look at you. Look at how you're looking at me- you look so careful,"

"Hazel, please. You know this isn't you." He held out his hands in a defensive motion. He straightened his posture up and brought his chest out. She knew that look from anywhere; he'd always do it before attacking a threat.

"What are you gonna do, Stephen? Are you gonna kill me? Are you scared I'll kill you?" She challenged and stepped closer to him tauntingly.

"Would you really?" He was now stiff and calculating. He squinted his eyes at her and tilted his head.

The look in his eyes was enough to bring her back to her senses, and she shook her head at her own actions. What is she doing? What is she doing here? She let out a sigh and sat down on a step.

"I wish I never made it out of there."

He knew better than anyone that no matter how much you get used to pain, suffering would always be a new experience. His defences broke down and he squatted down to give her an embrace.

"I don't want to keep losing. I can't lose any more things." She whispered, mostly to herself. "I hate this. I...hate myself."

Stephen struggled to think of something to say to her and breathed deeply.

"You won't lose anything. I'll help you recover, I've been there before. I always help you when I can, right?" He pulled away and stared into her glassy eyes. She let air get into her lungs and tried to compose herself.

"I thought I was doing pretty good on my own,"

"Yeah, but it gets lonely around here; a teacher needs his student." He shrugged with his lips curling up. "And this only buys us more time. I just didn't know you idolised me so much. It's a bit extreme, but otherwise, flattering."

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