Work Text:
Stephen had been grocery shopping the first time he felt it. (Putting spiritual above the material does not mean having no ice cream on the premises, Wong). As he was checking out, a masked man suddenly pulled out a gun and confronted the cashier. He couldn't help but stare at the criminal. Any bystanders would assume it was out of shock. A man was waving a firearm around, after all. Assuming he was shocked wouldn't be a far cry from the truth, but instead of the shock being born of fear, it was curiosity.
He's encountered plenty of criminals before ranging from tax evaders to serial killers, but not since the Scarlet Witch incident. This is the first time he's felt something so... off about a criminal. Whiffs of sulfur and the graininess of rust emanated from the man. "Hey!" Stephen called out as the man tried pointing the gun at the cashier. The criminal whipped the gun towards him instead, making the mistake of initiating eye contact. Both men shared a level glare, neither willing to break it.
On the edges of sulfur and rust was a flame, and with that flame, Stephen felt something else, not from the man, but himself.
A fire-poker in the form of a silent command.
The man slowly lowered the gun and backed up cautiously towards the door with his eyes never leaving Stephen. (Not that he could anyway, Stephen wouldn't let him.) With a quick glance at the cashier, the criminal darted out the door. Stephen just watched and pulled his jacket a little tighter around himself.
The second time was during a fight against an apprentice who wanted too much power too quickly. She was a good student if not a bit overly ambitious, so she turned to the quick and easy solution. Dark magic. She somehow successfully made a pact with a demon which allowed it entrance to this world in return for power. As demon deals usually go, she drew the short end of the straw and was now possessed.
It was stronger this time around, the sulfur smell. He could practically feel the rust crumbling between his fingertips. Feel the flames licking at his skin. A Master was thrown against the wall as the apprentice blasted him, eyes blazing red as the demon, the corrupted soul, inside her raged. Stephen felt a shiver travel down his spine as he let the ashes from the flame settle on him. Could no one else feel the chill in the air? He shivered again as the sulfur took over his senses.
The apprentice managed to pin Wong against a wall with a spell ready at her fingertips. She promised fire and chaos in her eyes yet Stephen had never felt more in control than in the middle of the blaze. "Stop," he commanded. The apprentice shot an arm out to dispel him but to no avail. The spell at her fingertips faded to nothing as she finally looked at Stephen. He countered with a raised hand of his own, trembling all the more with the oppressive cold he felt in his very bones. "Leave."
The girl doubled over and shrieked inhumanly as the demon inside fought against Stephen. He felt his vision darken and there was a startled gasp somewhere beside him. Wong. With a snarl, Stephen tore the demon from the girl's influence. It cried out curses and bestowed nightmares should it be sent back, but Stephen was unhindered. With a clenched fist, the demon was nothing but an already forgotten inconvenience. A puff of smoke.
It wasn't just Stephen's hands shaking as he lowered his arm and slid down the nearest wall to the floor. "Stephen," Wong approached him, "what was that? Why were your eyes black?"
"Were they? Huh. That's new." He said through chattering teeth. "Do we have any blankets? It's really cold in here."
Wong nodded toward the other sorcerers and they all left the room, taking the unconscious apprentice with them. Stephen hoped someone would come back with something warm. "You expelled a demon without the exorcism rituals."
Stephen looked at his friend, "yea, I guess. She was about to hurt you so I stopped her. Told the demon to leave."
"You 'told' it to leave?" Wong asked incredulously, "no, you commanded it." Stephen merely shrugged. Wong looked over Stephen's still shivering form with concern buried in his features. "How do you feel?"
"Cold," Stephen tried to joke.
"Like how you felt when you controlled the Souls of the Damned?" Wong asked in a hushed whisper.
Stephen inhaled sharply at the realization, "yea, actually. But really, do we not have blankets? I'm freezing."
"That's because you're not dead, unlike when you were puppeteering your variant's body," Wong explained and opened a small portal to a volcano. Stephen automatically leaned in towards the warmth. "Congratulations Stephen. You're corrupted."