The Sorcerer's Apprentice {St...

By stinkytootsies

40.5K 1.2K 397

After serving in the military for 10 years after high school, First Sergeant Emerson Moore was honorably disc... More

The Sorcerer's Apprentice
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three: The End

Six

1.1K 41 2
By stinkytootsies

I Saw The Light by Todd Rundgren

Emerson got bored of sitting on the bed for hours, waiting to see the doctor. She knows Wong said not to touch anything but he didn't say she couldn't look. Earlier she left the room to snoop around and see what was in this building. Unfortunately, she cannot make her way up the tall stairs with her wheelchair and there doesn't seem to be an elevator. She keeps strolling along, noticing an enormous bookshelf. She traces her finger over the wood, her finger getting a thick coat of dust. The sergeant pulls one of the books out and slowly opens it, feeling its spine crack in her hands. These books haven't been touched in ages and they've probably never even been read. She quickly places the book back, not wanting to get caught touching things. Emerson pushes herself towards one of the abnormally large windows, wanting to see the night sky. The city has become dark with hints of luminescence coming from the stars and the streetlights. She locks her wheelchair in front of the window so it doesn't move and perches herself over the windowsill wanting to see more of the sky. She looks closely at the stars, trying to imagine shapes and figures in the sky. She manages to spot an elephant, a taco, and some sort of phallic-looking image. Em laughs at her absurdness before admiring the city in front of her. The streets are empty compared to during the day. There are cars parked on the road as there are no parking garages. Where she's from it is odd to not have a garage but here that seems normal.

Emerson sighs to herself as she is already starting to feel homesick. Normally at this time, she would be at the gym closing up after the fight club. She would be changing in the dressing room and ignoring anyone who tried to talk to her. After the incident though she'd currently be laying in bed, staring at the ceiling contemplating her life's choices. She would be thinking about her mom and how she would be so disappointed in her daughter. She'd be thinking of her dad and how he's going to die sometime soon, within the next ten months. She can tell time is creeping up on her and she'll only get to be with him for a little while longer. That's one of the reasons she wishes she were home right now; to spend their precious time together. She could be at home watching cheesy horror films with him, laughing at the main characters for acting stupid. They could be talking about the memories they made with mom and how they wish she could be with us. But instead, the sergeant's here at some weird building hoping to meet a Doctor that is four hours late. Who even knows what the doctor is going to tell her. He'll probably give her some advice and send her on her way after asking for a buttload of money. Maybe all he wants from her is some money and that's why she's here right now with an envelope full of cash.

"Sergeant Emerson Moore," she hears from behind her. She snaps out of her thoughts and turns her chair around to face the voice. Before her stands a slender, unbelievably tall man with a finely lined goatee. His cheekbones look sharp enough to cut anyone who touched his face. His hair is parted with sleek streaks of grey on both sides of his head. He wears a more intricate robe-like attire than Wong and it confuses her even more. The robe is a navy blue color with a belt wrapped around it and a cape covering his shoulders. He wears a glowing necklace in the shape of an eye and yellow gloves on his hands. She'd say he's considerably attractive but the outfit he's wearing really throws her off. "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange. Sorry I'm late," he reaches a gloved hand out for her to shake. She slowly raises her hand to return the gesture, still confused as ever.

The doctor, however, can't help but look down at her beautiful body confined to a bulky wheelchair. He suddenly feels a tad insecure next to this surprisingly strong woman with a confident look on her face. He quickly looks away from her, afraid of staring for too long. He'd hate to make her think he's staring at her due to her disability, but it's honestly because she's attractive. He shifts on his legs, trying to stand up straighter.

"Uh, it's fine," she replies with a monotone voice. He notices her staring and he clears his throat. She looks away from his outfit and back out the window. "And there's no need to call me sergeant," she smiles. She's not even in the military anymore yet people still address her so formally.

"Alright...Emerson," he corrects himself, feeling odd addressing her any less formally. She looks away from the window and back to him. "So, we have a lot to discuss-"

"Do you mind me asking why you guys are wearing robes? Am I missing something?" she asks and he lets out a short chuckle. "I'm not judging whatsoever, I'm just very confused," she quickly justifies her question, trying not to sound like an asshole.

"Ha- Well, that's a great question. See, we wear these because-" he starts but pauses for a second. "Wong?" he asks, hoping he'll explain instead. Wong walks around the steps after hearing his name.

"We wear these in Kathmandu. Strange and I feel comfortable wearing them here as well," he tries to explain. He looks to Dr. Strange for reassurance.

"Yes, we appreciate the representation in New York," he spews out before moving on to another topic. She can tell by his hesitation when speaking that he's making that answer up on the spot. She decides not to press the issue and move forward. "How was the trip here?" he asks.

"It was okay. A little expensive for a last-minute flight but it was manageable," she responds truthfully, neglecting to bring up how she felt embarrassed for being in a wheelchair. "Wong was a great chauffeur. He took his turns a little too wide though," she jokes, and Strange laughs at her comment. Emerson lets out a sigh of relief knowing that he does well with humor. When meeting new people it's hard to tell if being humorous is the right way to act. Some people don't do well in responding or understanding simple jokes so she's glad he appreciates a good laugh.

"He already sounds like a better driver than me," he rebuttals and she grins in response, not knowing how true his comment was. "Well, I'd like to get started talking about your concerns and wishes but I'm assuming you're hungry after your trip. I, for one, had a long day and would enjoy a meal before heading to bed," he suggests. The ex-soldier nods her head to show that she agrees. She did not expect to be housed and fed on her first evening here. "Great because I already had Wong pick up dinner. Hope you like Chinese food," he quips.

"Nothing beats Americanized Chinese food... Except for actual Chinese food," she responds and follows him as he starts walking towards a door below the steps. They make their way into what looks to be a dining room.

"You're in luck. It is 'actual' Chinese food from a small family-owned restaurant called 'Tiny Duck'," he tells her as he moves a chair away from the table, leaving room for her to sit on her wheelchair. He walks around the table and pulls his own chair out before sitting down. The doctor opens the plastic bag on the table in order to grab out the takeout boxes full of food.

"It translates to Little Bird," Wong corrects Strange. "He doesn't know what he's saying. Ignore him."

"Whatever it's called, it smells delicious," Em responds and Strange hands her a box with a fork and chopsticks. She waits for them to dig into their food before she does so herself. Both Emerson and Wong use chopsticks while Dr. Strange uses a plastic fork.

"You can use chopsticks?" Wong asks.

"I was stationed in South Korea for a year so I learned a lot from the ladies there, including how to use chopsticks," Emerson tells him before taking a bite of her rice. "You can't use chopsticks?" She asks aloud to Dr. Strange. He glances towards Wong before looking back at her. Refraining from revealing too much about himself, he instead comes up with a lousy excuse.

"Uh, no, I cannot. It's faster to eat with a fork, so why waste time learning to use chopsticks?," he answers before taking a drink of water from the cup in front of him. Once everyone finishes dinner, which she makes sure to thank the doctor for, they head back to the main area near the entrance. Wong vacates the area leaving only Dr. Strange and Emerson to talk. She places her wheelchair in front of him. She wants to move into the comfortable-looking chair beside her but she doesn't for fear of him watching her struggle. She likes to present herself as tough and independent and it's hard to do so when you can't walk. She ignores the fact that her back is in pain and her lower half is numb from sitting all day. "I was surprised by your response to the first email I sent you-"

"I am so sorry about how rude I was. I know there is no excuse but I was just having a hard time trying to find someone to help me out," she hurriedly explains herself. He raises his hands in defense while speaking, clearly not bothered by the tone of her email.

"No, no. I appreciate the assertiveness. I have been where you are now and it made me realize it's my turn to give back again," he tells her, not showing any bit of annoyance or frustration. "How far away do you live from here?"

"I'm from Colorado so it was a little out of my way to come here. Not that I'm complaining, I just want you to know that I had traveled all this way in hopes of genuine help. I had talked to a few Doctors who only wanted money and that's not something I necessarily have," she says bluntly, making sure the facts are presented. Emerson wants to lay it all out on the table for him so if he has any issues he can tell her now. The sergeant really doesn't want to waste her time and effort on dreams that possibly won't come true. "I didn't expect a response from you the first time, let alone the second. Dr. Palmer told me there was a possibility the email address wouldn't even work," the soldier informs him. His face falls at the mention of Dr. Palmer. His heart aches at the thought of her but as time goes on he thinks about Christine even less.

"I'm glad she referred you to me," he gives her an archaic smile. "I thought of a few things we could have you start doing tomorrow and then I can show you some ways to... meditate."

"Okay, I'd love that. When will you have me go back home? Will you send me with a list of things to do once I go back?" Emerson asks and he pauses. Strange never considered when she'd go back home; surprisingly, he didn't think that far ahead.

"Oh right. You can go back anytime."

"Do I need to pay for some type of housing until then?" The woman asks, wanting to make sure she hits all the bases. The doctor leans back in his seat, his two hands resting on the armrests of the chair.

"No," is all he says. He stands up from the chair and walks away from the circle. She turns to face him, not sure if she should follow him or not.

"Why not? Is this some gimmick?" All of this kindness makes her feel paranoid that this is all a trick. She's waiting for Ashton Kutcher to run around the corner yelling 'You just got Punk'd' before laughing in her face. If she's being tricked right now, this is one sick joke. Emerson came all this way to meet a weird doctor in fancy robes, looking for some cure to make her walk again. The whole idea is quite absurd and unrealistic. It doesn't make sense why he would want to help her either; she's just some random woman from a small town. It makes no difference to him or his life if she's able to walk or not. The sergeant is just some minuscule spec in an everlasting universe with no purpose in life. She just doesn't understand why he'd take the time to help her... It doesn't make any sense.

"I understand what kind of predicament you are in right now. I have considered-"

"Stephen feels he needs to compensate for any wrongdoings he has done in the past. He believes you can be his redemption and that will prove him to be a decent person," a woman walks into the sitting area, a goldish-yellow coat and robe covering her body. She has sharp cheekbones and a bald head making her not easy to miss. The woman brushes past Emerson and up the long steps clearly in a rush. "I apologize for cutting your meeting short, however, I am in need of some assistance," she says aloud to Stephen Strange. His eyes land back on the sergeant's face before giving her an apologetic look.

"Let's continue this tomorrow morning," he whispers before standing from his chair and excusing himself. He brushes past her before briskly making his way up the steps. The soldier turns around and wheels herself back down the hallway where the bedroom provided is located. Down the hall, Em spots a few more doors and she decides to peek in the rooms to find the bathroom.

***

A/N: This chapter was originally written in 1st person and has been quickly edited to fit the rest of the book's format in 3rd person. I will come back and edit these chapters to better suit the fic once I have finished the entirety of the fanfic.

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