Just papering over it is... too easy. It would be like absolving herself of her crimes, covering them up and forgetting the part she'd played in the destruction of an entire species. Like putting a patch on her memory to forget something horrifyingly painful.
She can't do that again. Straightening her spine, she turns back to Stephen, her expression open and raw but not asking him for anything. This is her life and her crime is not his burden.
"I wouldn't have even considered it," she tells him without hesitation, then turns one hand palm-up in a helpless sort of gesture. "But whatever the circumstances, I still did it."
Sighing, she glances back over her shoulder at the wallpaper and smiles sadly. "It's a pretty reminder, at least."
It wasn't strictly speaking a test, and yet Julia just passed with shining colours regardless. So Strange nods, a tight yet understanding expression on his face. Papering it over would have been too-tidy, too-simple, too-easy; she just scored a few more points in his book by resisting it.
"Then that's matters. Knowing when and why you would've done better. And in any case, we simply do the best we can with the tools and knowledge we have available."
His own guilt is less clear-cut, more circuitous and difficult to define. The Time Stone handed over, a decision made for an entire universe. Tony Stark's life on the micro-level, and the inadvertent casualties of the blip on the macro-level. The people who died coming back, reappearing in hospitals which weren't ready for them, or in vehicles which weren't there anymore— the statistics are gruesome whenever he sees them. He's not going to make it about himself, but he understands.
"At a certain point, living with your mistakes is all we can do. I'm sorry that happened."
Running from pain and guilt is something Julia is certainly capable of and this wouldn't have been the first time she'd chosen that path, but it doesn't feel right to do it now. She has to pay penance for the hurt she's caused, even if the only one she's answering to is herself.
That look of understanding he gives her is... unexpected. Julia's been able to relate to Stephen on a few things in the brief time since their meeting but she hadn't expected it to be reciprocated. It makes her want to know so much more about him, to learn everything he's willing to share about himself and the life that led him to this moment. That feeling overwhelms her for a moment and she just stares at him with lips parted like she's about to say something, surprise and hope flickering across her expression.
"Thank you," she finally says, meaning so many things with those two simple words. She thanks him for not rescinding his offer to help her; for understanding something of her situation; for not judging her for her past... For so many things.
'You're welcome' feels like the wrong thing to say. There's something weighty in that moment, something unspoken in the air between them, and the man is near-allergic to emotional vulnerability, so he finds himself uncertain what to do with it.
So. He ducks his head into a nod, and then pivots neatly to a safer topic. "That subway token, by the way. If you need to contact me telepathically, press your right thumb to the metal, firmly say 'Stephen Strange', and then project your thoughts at me. It should get through regardless of which dimension I'm on."
Then he cocks his head; considers. "Although I suppose I could've just given you my number. The reception in the Sanctum is garbage, though, be warned."
Changing subjects is a safer move for both of them and she's grateful for it. There will be plenty more occasions for them to dive into those tough topics, they don't need to tackle them all at once.
Julia listens carefully to the token's instructions and then bursts into an abrupt laugh at his afterthought. The entire thing suddenly strikes her as completely ridiculous yet perfectly fitting for their lives. Calling him on an actual phone hadn't even occurred to her until he'd mentioned it.
"It makes a strange sort of sense that the easiest way to contact you would be magically convoluted." She shakes her head with another chuckle and adds, "Technology gets kinda screwy at Brakebills, too."
His nose crinkles at the 'strange sort of sense'; ha, ha, very funny. But he truly hadn't thought of the phone first; it had just grown so much easier to reach for the magical solution. "It's nice to have alternatives. I like having both options on the table, both science and magic," Strange says.
He's not good with the delicate use of a cell phone these days, so he lets Julia fish out her own phone and tap in the numbers himself while he recites his aloud. It's been a long, long time since he gave a woman his number, but thankfully he doesn't overthink it, just swaps contacts with a kind of genteel casualness. It's an exchange between new colleagues — a way to stay in touch with each other, since she'll be coming and going from the townhouse — and nothing else, after all.
"I'll let you get set up, and tell the novices to expect one more for dinner. Unless we just do takeout. How do you feel about Thai?"
And then once they're sorted, in a glimmer of humour and a ripple of that scarlet cloak, he leaves the room and heads back out into the hallways, leaving her to get settled.
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ourladytrees) wrote2022-06-18 12:21 am
no subject
She can't do that again. Straightening her spine, she turns back to Stephen, her expression open and raw but not asking him for anything. This is her life and her crime is not his burden.
"I wouldn't have even considered it," she tells him without hesitation, then turns one hand palm-up in a helpless sort of gesture. "But whatever the circumstances, I still did it."
Sighing, she glances back over her shoulder at the wallpaper and smiles sadly. "It's a pretty reminder, at least."
no subject
"Then that's matters. Knowing when and why you would've done better. And in any case, we simply do the best we can with the tools and knowledge we have available."
His own guilt is less clear-cut, more circuitous and difficult to define. The Time Stone handed over, a decision made for an entire universe. Tony Stark's life on the micro-level, and the inadvertent casualties of the blip on the macro-level. The people who died coming back, reappearing in hospitals which weren't ready for them, or in vehicles which weren't there anymore— the statistics are gruesome whenever he sees them. He's not going to make it about himself, but he understands.
"At a certain point, living with your mistakes is all we can do. I'm sorry that happened."
no subject
That look of understanding he gives her is... unexpected. Julia's been able to relate to Stephen on a few things in the brief time since their meeting but she hadn't expected it to be reciprocated. It makes her want to know so much more about him, to learn everything he's willing to share about himself and the life that led him to this moment. That feeling overwhelms her for a moment and she just stares at him with lips parted like she's about to say something, surprise and hope flickering across her expression.
"Thank you," she finally says, meaning so many things with those two simple words. She thanks him for not rescinding his offer to help her; for understanding something of her situation; for not judging her for her past... For so many things.
no subject
So. He ducks his head into a nod, and then pivots neatly to a safer topic. "That subway token, by the way. If you need to contact me telepathically, press your right thumb to the metal, firmly say 'Stephen Strange', and then project your thoughts at me. It should get through regardless of which dimension I'm on."
Then he cocks his head; considers. "Although I suppose I could've just given you my number. The reception in the Sanctum is garbage, though, be warned."
no subject
Julia listens carefully to the token's instructions and then bursts into an abrupt laugh at his afterthought. The entire thing suddenly strikes her as completely ridiculous yet perfectly fitting for their lives. Calling him on an actual phone hadn't even occurred to her until he'd mentioned it.
"It makes a strange sort of sense that the easiest way to contact you would be magically convoluted." She shakes her head with another chuckle and adds, "Technology gets kinda screwy at Brakebills, too."
no subject
He's not good with the delicate use of a cell phone these days, so he lets Julia fish out her own phone and tap in the numbers himself while he recites his aloud. It's been a long, long time since he gave a woman his number, but thankfully he doesn't overthink it, just swaps contacts with a kind of genteel casualness. It's an exchange between new colleagues — a way to stay in touch with each other, since she'll be coming and going from the townhouse — and nothing else, after all.
"I'll let you get set up, and tell the novices to expect one more for dinner. Unless we just do takeout. How do you feel about Thai?"
And then once they're sorted, in a glimmer of humour and a ripple of that scarlet cloak, he leaves the room and heads back out into the hallways, leaving her to get settled.