▄▄▄▄▄▄ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ▄▄▄▄▄▄

{ How am I selfish for wanting my dad back? The real you-not this shell of a man who's obsessed with something he can't change! }

Carrie Strange has gotten use to the beeping.

It is a constant reminder of what happened, of what's to come. It's a constant reminder that no person waits for her at home. It's a constant reminder that her father has fallen into a deep sleep.

She has been in that same old room for weeks on end. (Really one week, but it felt much more than that for her). She would receive two meals a day delivered by Doctor Palmer, and since it was Thanksgiving break, she could ignore school, as much as she hates to do so and as much as her father would disapprove. And once a day, before lunch until after, Christine would force the tired girl to get some fresh air in the hospital's park. Carrie Strange does not look like Carrie Strange. She now has purple bags underneath her eyes almost begging her to get just an ounce of sleep and even though it has been only a week since the fatal car accident, the poor Strange girl lost weight by her poor eating habits. Christine expressed a great sorrow for the girl and begged her to act human again, to ignore the great pain and loss she was suffering but only a couple hours. Carrie can't. She just... can't.

She wishes that it would have happened differently. Maybe- just maybe- if Carrie had gone to that silly dinner party her father always hosts, she would have warned her father to stop speeding and to get off of all electronics. She could have saved her father and his very being. But, she stayed home and did all that retched homework.

Now, she has to stare at her father's fallen eyes bruised in colors of purples and blues as if someone took a paintbrush and painted across it to make a horrific painting. And his hands were pierced in many, many needles to only save the hands he needed so desperately in his career.

Carrie feels a brush of a finger on her shoulder clothed in her silly cardigan her father wore often. She knows who it is. A doctor she found solace in since the past week, and technically appointed guardian since her mother, Rachel, did not want to come out all the way to New York just for Stephen's injury. Although, Wesley did. But, Carrie heard that her mother had stopped him before he could even do so.

"You should go eat." Christine Palmer in her every glory whispers softly in the quietness of the room.

But, Cassie shook her head slowly and exhaustingly. "No. I can't."

Christine closes her eyes as she inhales a deep breath. "Little doe," she begins lowly. "Come on. Don't- don't be like your father."

The young girl's eyes sharply look over to the woman. As much as she wanted to disagree with the statement, her heart couldn't handle denying it. It was a trait she hopes to never receive from her father; to have your career be centered in your life above all else. That was her fear. Her enemy. If someone were to ask her what she is most scared of in the world, she wouldn't say spiders (even though she loathes them with her whole being) or the dark, she would say... becoming her father.

And somehow, someway, even though she wanted to leave the nightmare of bland white walls and the monotonous beeping echoed throughout the room, she just didn't have the heart to leave her parent. "I can't." Is all she whimpered.

Christine sighs worryingly as she takes a seat besides the young girl. And as she did so, she starts to stroke Carrie's brown hair soothingly. "Honey," she begins slowly. "He'll wake up any day now, like I said and the other doctor said. Plus, I haven't heard you play the violin in such a long time."

Carrie froze. She knows that whilst people are in such a deep sleep, in a coma, sometimes they can hear the words surrounding them, spoken by others. "I- I am thinking of giving it up." She whispers.

Christine notices the lingering gaze by Carrie on her father and nods carefully. "Hmmm." She hums lowly. "Still haven't told him huh?" And all Carrie does is shake her head disappointingly. "Well, you can tell him after he wakes up from his coma."

Carrie does not say a word and just gazes at the floor. "Will he though?" She softly whispers. "Dad does talk sometimes you know, and he says that the probability to wake up from a coma induced by an accident like that is rare."

"Well-" Christine begins. "Your dad can be such a let down some times, huh?"

This made the young girl chuckle through the few fallen tears that had managed to escape. "Sometimes yeah."

The Doctor Palmer's fingers get tangled in Carrie's hair. "There we go. There's my girl."

And in those few tender moments, Christine Palmer convinced the young Strange girl to stop worrying about the decaying body laid beside them. In the next week, whilst Stephen was still asleep, Carrie managed to go to her High School, Midtown High, and complete all of her homework even if Carrie's mind was far from schoolwork and still always thinking of her father. Though, the Doctor Strange's news of the accident spread throughout New York like wildfire. Even the high schoolers heard of this. Some of them stared at Carrie knowing full and well that not only she was a child of divorced parents but her father had carelessly destroyed his career. Whilst others felt sorry for the young girl and her troubles.

It's best to ignore them. Christine said to her. And even though Carrie did so, she couldn't help but feel the lingering stares. The hurtful stares. Like she didn't feel wanted even around peers her age.

So, in the bright of day, about a week later, where the time reads 4:32, Carrie Strange sits close to her father pinned to his bed finishing off some homework whilst Christine Palmer sits in a nearby chair, flipping through a book teaching about medical surgeries that could benefit Stephen. The two are in a silence with the beeping of the heart monitor never stopping for break, and it warms Carrie's heart to hear father's heart beat like so. And it was like that ever since Carrie gotten off of school. Until, they heard heavy breaths.

Carrie's eyes shoots up to Christine in full panic. This means.... He's... he can talk to her again. And as much as she wants to be excited, to be able to finally see those eyes she desperately wanted to see again, she cannot help but feel pain and anxious of what's to come.

Christine knows full and well what is going to happen. He is, of course, Doctor Strange. So, with a protective hand pushing Carrie to the side, she takes her place. She gently places another hand over the man's chest, all she had to do is wait for his eyes to open. And when he does, his broken face moves slightly and his bloody and bruised eyes barely open. It was not even a second before the panic sets in. Stephen gazes around the room to his partner soothing him in soft gentle words and his daughter's widen eyes glued to him.

Then, finally, once his eyes un-blur, they set onto his hands hung on a fabric whilst 11 pins are pierced into his skin. He gasps lowly as an unfathomable feeling over takes him. "What did they do?" His words slowly and hoarsely come out.

"They rushed you in a chopper. But it took a little while to find you. Golden hours for nerve damage went by while you were in the car." Christine's voice shakes as she explains with deep sorrow.

Stephen does not believe it. He can't. "What did they do?" He strongly speaks.

Finally recognizing how his gaze has fallen on his hands, Christine gulps slowly. "11 stainless steel pins in the bones. Multiple torn ligaments. Severe nerve damage in both hands. You were on the table for 11 hours."

"Look at these fixators." Stephen tries to wiggle his fingers but fails much to his dismay.

Christine, though, shakes her head at the double meaning behind his sentence. "No one could have done better."

"I could have done better." He whimpers through his pain. And then, he glances to the figure in the corner witnessing all of this and his jaw shakes. "Carrie, I could have done better."

Carrie's whole body freezes. What does that mean?

"No. No one could have done better." Christine's attempt to soothe the man has failed so miserably.

Weeks pasts. Months even. Stephen couldn't take no for an answer. He had gone through seven surgeries just so he can get his hands, the one thing he loved more than anything else, the one thing he needed for his job and to make a break through he so desperately wanted to see. And every time he would wake up in that same hospital room painted white silly color and the doctors would say 'It didn't work' and every time he would get frustrated and aggressively scream at the doctor who took care of them. Strange would go home and do more research than the world held just so that he could earn his hands back.

And whilst he did, Christine and Carrie just had to stand by and watch him decay more than he did months ago in his coma. They beg every single time for him to stop, but.. Strange can't have enough. He needs more. Always.

A month has passed. The sun has settled to the far west with moon rising on the other side of the sky and the stars began to litter the sky in a beautiful symphony.

Stephen Strange stands in his dark bathroom with the lightbulb illuminating. His shaken hands held a razor to his growing beard and his eyes are full of frustration and anger. Every time the sharpen knife brushes against his skin, his hands tremble and cuts a slash against his cheek. His frustrated yells are heard across the house. Especially where a young fifteen year old girl stood whimpering at the noise. When another yell is heard, Carrie takes a deep breath with closed eyes and treads softly across her house to get to her father.

Her expression softens at the sight of her wounded father, though healed from the surgeries but not from the razor and nor the mental pain he had prospered through.

"Father?" She asks for his attention and his dark eyes sharply shoots towards hers.

"Don't you have some school to do?" He mutters lowly as he continues to brush the razor against his stubble.

Then, Carrie, though she knows her father will protest, walks over to the sink and gently takes away the razor. Her father stares at her with curiosity and as his mouth began to open to speak against her actions, Carrie starts to shave off the hair on his cheek. Her eyes holds a deep concentration and, unbeknownst to her, Stephen eyes stares deeply onto her.

"I've got it, Arie." He shamefully says.

"I know you do." She doesn't stop from there and continues until all the stubble is gone.

And as Stephen checks his new appearance in the mirror, Carrie couldn't help but look at his shaken hands. Oh how his prize possession had fallen like a decrescendo.

"I am serious." Is all Strange says in a deep tone. And he knows deep down, he knows, the hurt or the damage he is leaving his daughter is forever going to stay there.

At the sharp words, Carrie drew the razor away. Her eyes carefully watches her father for any sudden movements, any changes in the face. "I am just trying to help."

"Well-" Stephen pounces back from the counter, his hands brush the shaving cream can and all other supplies collecting across the counter down into the floor. The clang echoed throughout the air with nothing but a painful, loud silence. "I don't need help! I am a grown a-s adult, Carrie!"

Carrie's tongue could go off as a violin stringing its chords, but she holds back her tongue only knowing that her words could make everything worse and could tamper with the relationship already falling apart. And instead, she just silently chuckles since she knows that if he is a grown up as he indeed calls himself, he would not quarrel with a teenage daughter just for helping. "I am sorry, father."

And with a silent laugh from the invisible crowd, Stephen could almost feel as though they were taunting him. Congratulating even for what final cut of the cord he had made between his daughter and him. He wants to reach for her, grasp her arm and pull her back, beg for forgiveness. But should he ask for forgiveness her for something he didn't even do?

Hours had passed. The rain begins to fall from the weeping clouds who are beaten by the sun above them. A terrible wind passed over the Strange household. Strange is at his table, scribbling his name on a blank notepad over and over again (seemingly written by a five year old or from his left hand). And whilst he is doing so, someone speaks to him over and over call. He was a doctor, still discussing treatment plans for Stephen's hands. And beside him, is his daughter swiftly writing away formulas in memorization from chemistry. But her focus is not on her schooling, but on her father's desperate yelling and the other doctor's annoyance seeping in their conversation.

"What you want from me is impossible, Stephen."

Stephen's eyes hopelessly drops down. "Come on."

"I've got my own reputation to consider."

And at the sound of the other doctor not believing what Strange thinks is possible, he begins to beg further. "Etienne, wait."

The doctor sighs in aggravation. "I can't help you." He drowns out the sounds of Stephen and his finger inches towards the red, bright button. "Good luck my friend."

"No. No! Wait!"

Carrie looks up at her father who blankly stares at the screen. The anger seeping through his face, the utter shock, and the denial is enough to make her inch backwards still sat in her chair. She waits, for even a sudden flinch from him, any movement that heeds a threat. And then, his arms sweep across the table, causing everything, his tablet and papers along with Carrie's homework and all important books, to clutter on the ground. She bad enough time to scoot her chair back to avoid anything hitting her, but she was still in shock. Her lifeless blue eyes stares at all of the items on the floor, then to her father whose eyes are glued to hers.

And through all that pain he holds so deeply, Carrie can still see the little guilt and remorse collecting on his face. Though, thinking of all the million of times where this exact instant happened, where Strange happens to hurt her so bad she just stuffs in deep where no one can see it and she forgives him because what else should she do, she doesn't find the heart to do the same this time. Her eyes squint angrily at her father before screeching the chair backwards in the loud silence. Strange's arms reaches out for her, but she treads away quicker than he could do so.

"Hey."

A concern feminine voice announces.

Both Carrie and Stephen freezes as they look at her concern eyes and frown.

"What happened?" Christine Palmer obviously is gazing at the ground where all the books are.

But, Stephen ignores her question and breathes deeply in anticipation. "He won't do it." Still avoiding Christine's reprimanding look, he stands up from the table and carefully picks up everything. "He's a hack. There's a new procedure in Tokyo. They culture donor cells and then harvest them and then 3D print a scaffolding. If I can get a loan together."

Carrie can't help but roll his eyes.

"Stephen." Christine sighs. Though, he does not heed her carful warning.

As now he is sat at the table, he hurries and continues to talk before she could stop him. "A small loan, just $200,000."

"Small?" Carrie's timid voice breaks in absolute fear. In fear that her life would be no more if this were to be true. "Dad? Small?

"It's what is necessary." Stephen sharply says to his daughter.

And if Carrie's disapproval was not enough for him, it was Christine's turn to share her opinion, her much needed opinion. "You've always spent money as fast as you can make it. Now you are spending money you don't even have. It not only hurting you, but your daughter." She reprimands, though Carrie knows it come from a place of undying love and not out of sheer hate. "Maybe it's time to consider stopping."

Stephen drops his tablet onto the glass table with his shaken, course hands and with those, he places his tired head into them. "No. Now is exactly the time not to stop. Because you see, I am not getting any better!" He yells out of pure frustration.

"But this isn't medicine anymore." Christine carries on. "This is pure mania. Some things just can't be fixed."

Staring out of the window, Stephen looks at his broken hands. "Life without my work-"

"Is still life." Christine who is full of hope confirms. "This meant the end. There are other things that can give your life meaning." Her gaze shifts over to Carrie who is shrunken in the corner out of absolute fear and guilt. "Like, Carrie."

"Like Carrie?" He sharply turns over to his daughter, his eye full of venom and anger as if a snake had wrapped around his tongue and bit it. Then, he turns over to Palmer, his anger equal if not greater than it was to his daughter. "What? Like you?"

Christine tilts her head, tears rushing to the brim but she begs her mind for them not to rush over. "And this is the part where you apologize."

The snake still twisting around Stephen tongue, twists even tighter than before. "This is the part where you leave."

Christine does as he asks with a chuckle. "Fine. I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore. To Carrie."

"To difficult for you, is it?"

"Yes it is." Christine replies even more sharply than Strange did. "It breaks my heart to see you this way."

Stephen points angrily at her, suddenly and speedily charges towards her. "Don't you dare pity me."

"I'm not pitying you." She frowns.

"Yeah?" Strange lifts a confused eyebrow. "Then what are you doing? Bringing cheese and wine like we're old friends going for a picnic? We are not friends, Christine. We were barely lovers. But you just love a sob story, don't you? Is that what I am to you now? Poor Stephen Strange, charity case. He finally needs me. Another dreg of humanity for you to work on. Patch him up and send him back into the world. Hearts just humming! You care so much, don't you?"

And with his final words, his final venom, his final crescendo, Christian just shakes her head in unbelief before saying her final two pieces of words. "Goodbye, Stephen."

The doctor glances at his daughter as they hear the echoing of the footsteps receding and the door slamming shut.

"She's right, dad." Carrie affirms. Though, she knows she is walking on thin ice that is likely to break no matter how light she walks.

"I don't have time for this." Strange waves off Carrie and begins to go to his bedroom in solace, but she has no amount patience left as it was drained throughout the last agonizing months.

"When?" Carrie's desperate voice stops her father with his back facing towards her pleading face. "When will you have time for me? For this?"

Her father flinches at her words, an ache blooming in his chest. It would have been easy to silence her, to push her frustrations away like he did with many of his own, but the truth was undeniable. But he can't give in to her, he can't give up on his hands, his only being and his only career. Giving up was not an option.

"What do you want me to do, Carrie?" he says, frustration bubbling through his controlled facade. "Throw a pity party and accept that I'm done? I'm trying to find a cure."

Carrie's heart raced; she is now pushing herself over an edge she thought she would never fall off of. But, how could she take steps if she can't get past this lingering pain and conversation that was doomed to happen since the moment her parents gotten divorce? "You're obsessed! You spend every waking hour on this. Don't you care that I feel like I'm losing my father?"

An icy silence followed her declaration. Stephen looks away again, his expression monolithic. "I'm trying to save my life and career.." He scowls angrily.

"But what about my life? What about us?" Carrie's voice broke as she struggles to hold back tears. "You think you're making a difference, but I'm standing right here and I feel invisible. I need you too, Dad!"

"Maybe you should focus on your own life, Carrie! Become a foolish doctor you always want to be. And- and- You're hardly the model daughter yourself. Do you sense how selfish you are being?"

"Selfish?!" she yells, her voice echoing like thunder in the small room. "How am I selfish for wanting my dad back? The real you-not this shell of a man who's obsessed with something he can't change!"

With those words, a dam broke. Carrie stormed out of their living room and towards her little room she called her him throughout these months, slamming the door behind her. She didn't look back-not once. Not even to view the guilt eating up on her father's face, whether it would be real, or not.

REA SPEAKS !

Soo... obviously, spoiler alert, and a well known fact Carrie Strange is going to have powers! Yay.

Also, anyone notice my music references throughout the chapter? It is supposed to be to signify something. I'll reveal in later chapters what the deep meaning is about, but I want to leave y'all guessing! (I bet y'all can't figure out what part of the USA I am from 😂)

Here's a question: what powers do you think she will have? What's her superhero name going to be? (I might change it from Venus to something else. Have a little idea)

PS Thank you to the wonderful and amazing aurunium for this closing gift!