chapter seven
swallow the truth
(or spit it out?)

        Sabrina scrubs her hands until the skin is raw and pink, and even then the blood does not completely fade away.  It congeals underneath her nails and stains the sleeves of her tunic.  She grips the edge of the sink and stares up at her reflection in the mirror.  Tired brow eyes greet her own and Sabrina's heart sinks in sorrow for herself.  Her face is littered with tiny cuts—enough to make constellations out of them—the gash on her forehead is still present, though the bleeding has slowed significantly.  Her palms sting from the small cuts that bleed profusely upon her prodding, leaving a pink tint on the surface of the pure white basin.  Sabrina lets out a shaking breath and splashes her face with water.  For now, they're safe.  The pretty doctor—Christine—was nice enough to allow her to use the sink in the small room that connects to the operating theatre.

Faintly, through the closed door she hears voices outside—one belonging to Christine, and the other belonging to Stephen.  She doesn't know what Christine is to Stephen—whether she is an old friend or old colleague, or even something more, Sabrina does not get a chance to ask.  She does not have the time.  All the time in the world is running against Stephen.  Sabrina understands that he might not live through the night.  She turns around from the sink and places her hands behind her head, letting out a strangled sob.  If only they had had more time.  Maybe Stephen would be okay.  Maybe Abiral would still be alive.  Maybe Sabrina would be okay.  But time has never been on their side.

In a way, Sabrina thinks she understands Kaecilius and his followers.  Time is not very forgiving.  Time only takes and takes away from us.  But that is the natural order of things.  That is how the universe works.  Sabrina has come to terms with this a long time ago, but Kaecilius is not.  It is possible to be resentful of how the world works without being cruel to others.  It is possible to wish for eternal life without snuffing out others in the process.  While Sabrina may agree with Kaecilius in principle, she does not agree with him in practice.  Not when the Dark Dimension threatens to consume their world whole.

When she emerges from the small room, wiping furiously at her face, the operating theater is dark.  Papers and instruments are strewn about the floor.  Christine hovers over Stephen's body, breathing shallowly as she stitches the two sides of his flesh back together.  Sabrina raises her eyebrows but does not say anything, and instead crosses her arms as she hovers in the background.  She doesn't know if she is welcome to approach the operating table.  She feels as though this is supposed to be a tender moment between two old friends—or two old lovers—and she doesn't want to infringe on it.

"After all this time..." Christine says softly, "you just show up here...flying out of your own body, and with a kid."

"Yeah, I know," Stephen replies faintly.  "I missed you too, by the way."

"Ha, ha," Christine responds dryly.

"I wrote you emails, but you never responded," Stephen tells her.

"Why would I?" Christine retorts.

"Christine, I am so so sorry," Stephen tells her.  Sabrina wonders what he had done to this poor woman to elicit such emotion and genuine remorse in his apology.  Christine seems like a woman who deserves the world.  She has a kind face and a kind voice and had offered to patch Sabrina up as soon as she was done tending to Stephen and find her a fresh change of clothes to replace the blood-soaked tunic that she still wears.  Stephen before he had come to Kamar-Taj had been cold and callous and arrogant, everything that Christine seems not to be.  Whatever note they had broken their relationship off on was bound to be one that lingered for years and left a bitter taste in your mouth.  "For all of it.  You were right.  I was a complete asshole.  I treated you so horribly.  And you deserved so much more."

"Stop," Christine orders, "you're clearly in shock."

 Stephen lets out a laugh. 

Christine only shakes her head and picks up a pair of scissors from the operating table.  Her next few questions come out in a soft whisper.  "I mean, what the hell is happening?  Where have you been?"

Stephen lets out a sigh.  "Well.  After Western medicine failed me, I headed east, and I ended up in Kathmandu."

"Kathmandu?" Christine repeats, astonished.

"Yeah," Stephen says with a small nod.

"What?" Christine fixes Stephen with an almost exasperated look.  "Like the Bob Serger song?"

"1975, Beautiful Loser, side A," Stephen recites.  "Yeah."

"Nerd," Sabrina mutters quietly.

"I went to a place called Kamar-Taj..." Stephen trails off after a moment.  "Wait—where's Sabrina?  Where's the kid?  Oh, God, if I've lost her—"

"Jeez, chill out, Doc," Sabrina calls, making her way toward the operating table.  "I'm fine.  Which, is more than I can say for you."  She grins down at him and he manages to return the smile.  "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too," Stephen agrees.

"Now that we've happily reunited, you can continue on with the story," Sabrina says.  "I'm sure lovely Christine would like to hear all about your adventures."

"Right," Stephen agrees.  "So, I went to Kamar-Taj, where I met Sabrina and I talked to someone called 'The Ancient One'."

"Oh," Christine voices, "so you joined a cult."

Sabrina frowns and then shrugs.  "Well, when you put it that way..."

"No," Stephen interrupts.  "I didn't join a cult.  Not exactly.  No.  They did teach me to tap into powers that I never even knew existed."

"Yeah," Christine nods.  "That sounds like a cult."

"It's not a cult."

"Well..." Christine says with a shrug.  "That's what cultists would say."

"She's got a point, y'know," Sabrina reasons.  She turns back to Chrstine.  "I'm really starting to like you, Christine."

"Uh, thanks," Christine replies awkwardly as Stephen starts to push himself up from the operating table.  She places a hand against his chest and pushes him back down onto the operating table.  "Wait.  Stephen.  Wait.  What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm late for a cult meeting," Stephen answers.

Sabrina is quick to jump to Stephen's side as his feet hit the ground and he gratefully leans against her.  Christine appears on his left and puts his arm around her shoulders and together, she and Sabrina work together to guide Stephen out of the operating theater.

"This is insane," Christine hisses as they make their way down the hallway.

"Yeah," Stephen agrees.

"Where are you guys going?" Christine questions.

"Um..."

"Can you tell me the truth?"

"Well," Stephen starts, "a powerful sorcerer who gave himself over to an ancient entity can bend the very laws of physics tried very hard to kill me.  But I left him chained up in Greenwich Village and the quickest way back there is through a dimensional gateway that Sabrina opened up in the mop closet."

Christine lets out a heavy sigh as she unwinds her arm from around Stephen's face and leaves him to lean on Sabrina.  She crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head.  "Okay.  Don't tell me.  Fine."

Stephen lets out a sigh and glances at Sabrina, who only shrugs in response.  Stephen pushes the broom closet door open to reveal the portal that Sabrina had opened, still shimmering strongly.  Sabrina hops through the portal first, stepping back into the New York Sanctum.  The body of the zealot lays on the ground, abandoned by the cloaks.  It is motionless.  Sabrina does not want to know what had happened to the man.  Stephen steps into the portal behind her and turns back to face Christine, who now stands thousands of miles away on the other side of the portal.

"Really do have to go," Stephen tells her.

"Bye, Christine!" Sabrina calls.  "It was nice meeting you!"

And with that, the portal shrinks and closes.

Stephen stares at Sabrina with an amused expression on his face.  "I thought you said you flooded Kamar-Taj the last time you opened a portal."

"Yeah, well, I lied," Sabrina replies with a shrug.  She nudges Stephen with her shoulder as they make their way down the hallway.  "So...Christine is really nice.  Who exactly is she to you?"

"Ex," Stephen answers after a moment.

"No way," Sabrina replies with a shake of her head.  "Dude, she's literally so pretty.  How'd you manage to get with her?  I mean, no offense, but she's really nice and you...well, weren't."

Stephen doesn't answer.  Instead, he slowly approaches the limp body of the zealot.  Sabrina hovers a few feet away as Stephen places a tentative hand over his throat, searching for any sign of a pulse.  He rises slowly with a grim expression on his face and reaches for the neck of the red cloak which hovers over the zealot's body and allows it to wrap itself around his shoulders.  The purple cloak, which had been hovering beside the red cloak flies over to Sabrina before fastening itself around her own shoulders.

"Shit," Sabrina whispers as they crest the stairs, greeted with nothing but the empty carcass of the armor that had bound Kaecilius to the ground.

"Strange!" A voice calls.  "Sabrina!"

Stephen and Sabrina whirl around, alarmed as a figure steps out of the shadows.  Sabrina, who had already jumped into her battle stance relaxes when she recognizes Mordo.  A wave of relief washes over her and before she really knows what she's doing, she's sprinting across the room and tackling Mordo in a tight hug.  She lets out a strangled sob as she buries her face in his shoulder, he smells of sandalwood and paper and all things comforting.  She feels Mordo's arms hesitantly wrap around her before they squeeze the fabric of her tunic tight and draw her closer.  It's been a long time since someone has hugged her this long and this fiercely.  Here, she feels safe.  Here, she feels like nothing can touch her.  She wishes that she could stay in this moment forever.  Perhaps snap a photograph on it and keep it on a shelf to revisit this memory on a rainy day. 

"You're okay," Mordo says as he breaks the embrace, holding her at arm's length.  She can hear the giddy relief in his voice, the way it cracks.  Almost as if he had been moved to tears.  Sabrina lets out a small laugh and wipes her eyes.  "You're both okay."

"A relative term, but yeah, we're okay," Stephen replies.

"The Cloak of Levitation," Mordo says, gesturing to the red cloak around Stephen's shoulders.  "And The Cloak of Vitality.  They came to you."

"No minor feat," a familiar voice speaks up.  "It's a fickle thing."

Sabrina thinks that on any other day, she would have embraced The Ancient One in the same way that she had embraced Mordo.  But Kaecilius's words haunt her far more than she would like to admit.  Things are different now.  Things have changed.  Sabrina does not know if she knows The Ancient One as well as she had believed.  Kaecilius had planted his twisted seeds of doubt in her mind and fertilized them with her words.  They only sprout more, the longer that she stares at The Ancient One.  She does not know if Kaecilius speaks the truth, but she does not know that The Ancient One is innocent of the accusations thrown at her.

"He's escaped," Stephen tells The Ancient One.

"Kaecilius?" She asks.

"Yeah," Stephen answers.  "He can fold space and matter at will."

"He folds matter outside the Mirror Dimension, in the real world?" The Ancient One asks.

"Yeah," Stephen confirms. 

"How many more?" The Ancient One inquires.

"Two," Stephen answers.  "We stranded one in the desert."

"And the other?"

"His body's in the hall," Stephen tells her.  He takes a deep breath.  "Master Drumm is in the foyer."

"He's been taken back to Kamar-Taj," Mordo informs them.

"The London Sanctum has fallen," The Ancient One reports.  "Only New York and Hong Kong remain now to shield us from the Dark Dimension.  You defended the New York Sanctum from attack.  With its master gone, it needs another, Master Strange."

Sabrina does not miss the bitter expression on Mordo's face as he stares at The Ancient One.  And Sabrina understands where his bitterness sprouts from.  For years, he had trained under The Ancient One until she gave him the power to fight his demons.  He continued to stay at Kamar-Taj, training students in the ways of the Mystic Arts.  He had remained loyal to The Ancient One despite the turmoil that Kaecilius had caused.  Shouldn't he be the new Master of the New York Sanctum?  Wasn't that the fair way to settle it?  After all, what did Stephen Strange have that Mordo did not? 

"No," Stephen whispers.  He turns back around to face The Ancient One.  "It is Doctor Strange.  Not Master Strange.  Not Mister Strange.  Doctor Strange.  When I became a doctor, I swore an oath to do no harm.  And I have just killed a man!  I am not doing that again.  I became a doctor to save lives, not take them."

"You became a doctor to save one life above all others," The Ancient One says calmly.  "Your own."

Stephen lets out a scoff.  "Still seeing through me, are you?"

"I see what I've always seen: your over-inflated ego," The Ancient One replies.  Stephen only stares back at her defiantly.  Sabrina thinks that the seeds of rebellion have always been buried deep within Stephen, but his pride had kept them from sprouting.  Now, however, with Kaecilius' help, they've sprouted.  "You want to go back to the delusion that you can control anything.  Even death.  Which no one can control.  Not even the great Doctor Stephen Strange."

"Not even Dormammu?" Stephen questions.  The Ancient One does not answer.  Stephen takes a step toward her.  And then another.  And another.  "He offers immortality."

"It's our fear of death that gives Dormammu life," The Ancient One replies.  "He feeds off it."

"Like you feed off him?" Stephen retorts, bridging the gap between them.  "You talk to me about controlling death?  Oh, I know how you do it.  I've seen the missing rituals from The Book of Cagliostro."

The Ancient One doesn't answer for a moment.  "Measure your next words very carefully, Doctor."

"Because you may not like them?" Stephen replies, almost condescendingly.

"Because you might not know of what you speak."

"What is he talking about?" Mordo questions.

"I'd like to know, too," Sabrina agrees.  "In fact, I have a question, myself."

"I'm talking about her long life, the source of her immortality," Stephen tells Mordo without tearing his gaze away from the woman who stands before him.  "She draws power from the Dark Dimension to stay alive."

Mordo lets out a small scoff.  "That's not true."

"I've seen the rituals," Stephen continues.  "Worked them out.  I know how you do it."

"Once they regroup, the zealots will be back," The Ancient One says.  "You'll need reinforcements."

With that, The Ancient One turns her back on Stephen, Mordo, and Sabrina and strides away.  There's a sour taste in her mouth and Sabrina thinks that she might be sick.  She neither confirms nor denies Stephen's accusations and that does not put her mind at ease.  There's a small sickening voice in the back of their head that tells them that The Ancient One does not answer because she does not want to hurt them with what she hides from them.  Sabrina had idolized The Ancient One for so long, she had been the closest thing Sabrina had ever had to a mother (and now, in a way, Sabrina thinks that if everything Kaecilius said was true, The Ancient One was her mother), and now everything seems to be crumbling beneath her.  But when given to her, will Sabrina swallow the truth or spit it out like venom? 

She needs to know the truth, she decides.  Even if the truth hurts her.  Sabrina glances at Mordo and then at Stephen and then breaks away, running after The Ancient One.

"Sabrina!" Mordo calls after her, but she doesn't look back.

"Is it true?" Sabrina calls after The Ancient One as she reaches the foyer.

The Ancient One stops and turns around to face Sabrina.

"Is it true?" Sabrina repeats.  Softer, this time.  "What Kaecilius said—what he said about me."

"And what exactly did he say?" The Ancient One wonders.

"That I was once a part of Dormammu until you siphoned me off and molded me into the shape of a human," Sabrina answers.

The Ancient One lets out a small laugh.  As if she is amused by the predicament.  Sabrina crosses her arms over her chest.  She doesn't think this is very funny.  The Ancient One reaches up and tucks a strand of Sabrina's hair behind her ear.  On most days, Sabrina would have leaned into the almost maternal touch because there's always been an ache somewhere deep down inside Sabrina for a mother.  But there's a different ache within Sabrina this time.  An ache put there but The Ancient One.  An ache for the truth.  And this ache hurts.

She wants The Ancient One to tell her that Kaecilius only threads lies.  She wants The Ancient One to tell her that everything is going to be okay.  But Sabrina knows that if she wants to truth, she has to prepare to hear the things that she does not want to.  The truth is ugly and it spits in your face.  Truth buries itself deep within you and festers and spreads and grows.  The truth is hidden because lying makes everything less ugly.  Lying makes it hurt less at first.  But if a lie goes on for too long, wouldn't telling the truth at the beginning hurt less?

"My dear, you choose to believe the ravings of a madman?"

"I don't know what to believe or who to believe anymore," Sabrina answers.  "But I want the truth.  Even if you think I'm not ready."

author's note: sabrina is a christine palmer stan.  also one of the meanings of purple is vitality so like fun fact, i guess!!!