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A Tale of Two Doctors

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John washed up, after a long and arduous surgery. The patient had died. Now it was time to tell the family. I’m sorry for your loss, but your son fucked up, got drunk and pedaled his bicycle in front of a bus. I tried but couldn’t put all the pieces back together again. Fuck, this part of the job sucked.

He made his way to where the family waited, their eyes hopeful and wary at the same time. Then the mother looked at him and he looked at her. She knew, even before he spoke she knew. Her wail of grief made the hairs on his arms stand on end. Her husband moved to catch her.

 He looked at John, wanting the empirical evidence his heart couldn’t accept.  “I’m sorry, your son didn’t survive, his injuries were too severe.”

“Did he regain consciousness and say anything?”

The mother’s sobs made John want to scream as well. “No, I’m sorry.” Then he left, knowing that he would hear her sobs in his dreams. I need a drink. When is my bloody shift over? He stopped just outside his office and looked at the figure that hovered at the door. “Wong, is that you? How are you? What are you doing here?” Then he looked at Wong and Wong looked at him. “Oh Christ, it’s Strange, isn’t it?”

Wong nodded. “Yes.”

John ran to the nurses’ station to where his nurse sat at her desk. “Find someone to cover for me. I have a family emergency.” Then he followed Wong into the swirling vortex he had created just inside his office.

With his blood, stained scrubs still clinging to his body, John ran down the hall after Wong. Just outside of Strange’s room Wong paused. “John, Strange has changed. Though he will tell you he’s fine, he’s not. He is dying.”

John leaned against the wall. “What? How do you know? Are you a Doctor?”

“No, but I have seen this sickness before and it did not end well. The sorcerer died.”

“Well, fuck that and fuck you. I don’t give up that easily.”

Wong patted his shoulder. “That’s what we’re counting on.”

He pushed past him, to where Strange lay curled up on his bed. Brownie whined when he caught sight of him, then lay back down at Strange’s feet with his tail thumping. “Strange,” he whispered, kneeling by the side of the bed.

Strange opened his eyes and John gasped, they were as red as the eye of agamotto. “John?”

John took his cold, white hand, brushing Strange’s hair away from his forehead. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m here.” Then he ran his thumb along Strange’s lower lip. Strange leaned into the pressure, closing his eyes when their foreheads touched.

 After a few moments Strange looked up at him, frowning when he noticed the soiled scrubs. “John, is that your blood? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I had just gotten out of surgery when Wong looked me up.”

Strange smiled. “You’re staring.”

“It’s your eyes.”

“They’re kind of sexy, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are. Feral red turns me on.”

Strange put one hand behind his head. “Let’s face it, you’ve been trying to get me into bed since the first day we met.”

John laughed, then climbed in beside him. “If I were to get you into bed, I’d fuck you until you bled from your ears.”

Strange’s uncontrolled laughter shook the whole bed. “Oh John, I’ve missed you.”

He rubbed his smooth cheek against Strange’s whiskered one. “Me too, I’m sorry for everything.”

Strange fingered his clothing. “Did your patient survive?”


“There’s a clean robe in my closet. Put it on, then come back to bed. I’m tired and cold.”

John slipped off his things, noting when Strange leaned back, watching his every move. His eyes took in every detail, his stocky build, short legs, and the bulge that rested in the center of his boxers. He twirled around. “Like what you see?”

Strange chuckled. “Come on Kong, get into bed.”

John smiled, put on the robe, then slipped in beside Strange and took him in his arms. “We’ll, fix this.”

Strange shivered. “Sure, but let’s rest now. I’m so tired. And John?”


“I had no idea you were carrying a concealed weapon in your briefs.”

“Wait until I brandish it at you, then in you.”

Strange smiled. “I look forward to it, Mister Big Stuff.”

The smile froze on John’s face. “Are you referring to the song sung by Jean Knight?” I finally got him. He’s not answering. “Strange?” Great, he’s asleep. “Goodnight Strange,” he whispered, taking a whiff of his hair. Umm, like sex and Christmas.


John awoke feeling hot. Though the sun had not come up yet, he was sweating. Jesus, why am I so warm? Because I’m wrapped up tight with, Strange. He then began to untangle himself from Strange’s legs, swearing when his morning wood brushed up against Strange’s backside. God, what an ass. I want to plough it. I want to…Jesus, John get a grip. I bet he has a strong grip. JOHN, focus with the head above your waist. Strange needs you, the sanctum needs you. He then crept out of bed, hoping that Strange would remain asleep.


“Ssh, go back to sleep.”


He looked down to where Strange fixed his red eyed stare.  “Stop, it’s not what you think. I have to pee. Now go back to sleep. I’m going to get something to eat, then I’m going to the library to find out how we can fix this.”

“I thought you liked the sexy red eyes.”

“I thought we’d settled that last night.”

“Did we?”

“Strange, you have a virus running through your system that’s going to kill you if we don’t find a way to get it out.” Then he walked over, and reached out to touch the eye of agamotto.

Strange grabbed his arm. “Don’t if you touch it, it could infect you as well.”

“Strange, what aren’t you telling me?” Strange looked away. “God dammit, look at me.”

“You can’t read Sanskrit and even if you could I’m not willing to risk it. I’m not willing to risk your safety.”

John clinched his fists to his sides, then moved his hands until the entire room lay covered in neon colored shields. “I am a sorcerer and a healer and nothing will keep me from protecting you. You are mine.” His voice became low, while he screeched out a warning to the eye of agamotto that hung around Strange’s neck. The walls began to crack, but he took no heed. Strange was in danger. Then the cape of levitation swirled in front of him, while Brownie barked at his feet. It was the little dog’s loving eyes that made him rein in his control. He brought his hands down to his sides.

The room remained silent a moment, then Strange got out of the bed and approached him. “You didn’t have to be so dramatic. I got it, your powers have developed. Give me your hands.”

He held out his shaking, singed hands. Strange looked at him, reached into a drawer for some salve, and began to rub it on the red areas of his palms. Then Strange pulled him in close, so that their hips were touching. “Strange, don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you.”

A knock at the door made them both jump.

“What is it?” Strange growled.

Wong burst into the room. “We have a pinpoint on Mordo.”

Strange and John moved apart, while the room irrupted in chaos. Brownie barked, Wong spouted out information, the cape of levitation draped itself over Strange’s shoulders, and they smiled. Without Strange lifting a finger, time slowed down while they watched each other.