It has only been a few weeks since the chaos, since Doctor Stephen Strange died repeatedly to stop the world from being sucked into a timeless void. He is just getting his feet back under him and the Sanctums rebuilt when the doorbell rang on the New York Sanctum. He had not been aware he had a doorbell, given that his only visitors had been sorcerers themselves, who had a bad habit of showing up unannounced and letting themselves in.

A woman a bit younger than him with long wavy brown hair and rather attractive curves was standing on his doorstep.

"Hi," she said.

"Um… Hello," Strange said. It came out almost as a question.

She cleared her throat and started speaking in a rush. "Hi. I already said that. Never mind. Stephen Strange? I'm Darcy Lewis. You probably don't remember me, I mean, how would you. You were in a coma at the time. Which really sucks. I'm Darcy and I was the other driver."

After everything he has seen in the last few months, Strange is not an easy man to surprise. This managed to stun him into silence.

Darcy started speaking again. "I don't know why I came here, especially after all this while. I mean, I checked on you a bit after the accident but it was all 'family and close friends only' and I mean, the police report didn't blame me but I still felt bad about it, especially since I knew you were hurt so bad. And then when I tried to check on you no one seemed to know where you had gone, just that you had left the country. And I moved to London for a little while for my internship and life went kind of insane. And now I'm graduated and figured I should try to look you up again. I'm sure it's probably really selfish tracking you down like this just to assuage my own… What the hell are you wearing?" she demanded, cutting herself off.

"It's a tunic," he said. "And a cloak."

Then it was Darcy's turn to be stunned into silence. Finally, she managed "And why are you wearing a tunic and cloak?"

"Because I'm a sorcerer, the Sorcerer Supreme, actually." He said it as though it were a relatively normal thing, being a sorcerer. "Would you like to come in?" The truth was, he felt suddenly guilty with her here. He had been so caught up in his own pain that the fate of the other driver had never crossed his mind.
He stepped out of the doorway to let her in.

"You're a sorcerer? Like Loki?" she asked, as though being a sorcerer was only slightly odd.

"Not exactly. I protect earth from magical and extradimensional threats."

"Cool. Was this a recent career change, or are you allowed to be a sorcerer and a doctor?"

"I am a doctor," he said, a little sharply. "I'm not practicing medicine at the moment, but I earned a medical degree and the title that goes with it."

"Oh. Right. Sorry," she said, looking remorseful.

"And yes," he said, changing the subject back. "Sorcerer is a relatively new career path for me, within the last year."

"Is the magic house of magic new, too?"

"The New York Sanctum is at least several hundred years old. I am still learning the details of its history. But it is new to me."

"So what made you decide on sorcery?"

"I didn't," he said honestly. "I think sorcery chose me. Would you like some tea, or something? I don't have guests here very often. Ever, actually."

"Yeah, thanks. That would be great."

He makes the tea but the kettle won't stop shaking in his hand when he tries to pour. She must have noticed, but doesn't say anything, and he transitions almost smoothly into using magic and showing off. It's frustrating that, after everything, he still can't get his hands to do something as simple as pouring tea.

"I never did find out how you were after the crash," he said.

She shrugged. "Probably because there wasn't much to find out. I was lucky. I walked away with two broken bones, which healed back stronger, and a scar." She rolled up her sleeve to reveal a jagged scar. "Which I'm pretty proud of, by the way, because I hang out with some kinda badass people and it's nice to have a tough looking scar. Besides, you had your own crap to deal with at the time, being comatose for example." She took a sip of the tea and accepted his offer of sugar.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said.

"You too. I mean, sure, I wasn't hurt as bad, but you turned into a wizard, which is awesome. Anyway, I won't bug you anymore, I just… I'm still not even sure, just wanted to check in, I guess. It was nice to meet you, Doctor Strange."

"You too, Miss Lewis."

He never expected to see her again, but there she was two days later, standing on his doorstep with a box of cookies.

"Hi," she said brightly. "I was in the area and thought 'hey, why not bring some cookies to the good doctor.'"

"I don't need your pity," he said, but it was said with weariness rather than heat.

"Pity? Who's got pity? You're a wizard. You practically live in Hogwarts. I may have not told you the full truth. What I really thought was 'hey, maybe if I bring the good doctor some cookies, he'll give me a tour of his awesome magical house,' but it would seem less planned if I just gave you the cookies and let you taste them and then decided to give me a tour out of the goodness of your heart."

"A tour? Of the house?" Strange asked.

"Yes. It's awesome and the closest thing to Hogwarts that I know where it is."

He glanced back at the book he was reading. He almost sent her away but decided against it. There was something contagious about her enthusiasm. He flashed her a smile.

"Well, in that case, come in."