Starchild

The Taxi to New York

There is no bigger dread than the one caused by hearing the words "we need to talk". Either I am in trouble, or I am not. But it's better to expect a bad outcome and then be pleasantly proven wrong, or maybe proven right, but with no high hopes being broken.

Strange does not speak for a few minutes. He might be thinking of what to say, or he could be waiting for me to start the conversation.

Then, he sighs, —You can't be that soft again. —

Oh.

—Wong told me how the exorcism went. It was supposed to be an exorcism, maybe even an interrogation; not a negotiation. Should've gotten rid of that demon the moment it tried to run away. —

I look down. I'm still wearing the priest robes. I start playing with the sleeves. —They were just a demon, Strange. I'm sure I could have persuaded them if I had had more time to talk. Maybe we could have gotten their help. —

He shakes his head. —You don't know demons, Star. If you give them enough time and compassion they will use it. For bad. You're being naive. You can't let this happen again. —

—I don't need to know them. I know they are good, but you keep placing them in this small box which only lets them do bad. —I look at him, and we immediately lock eyes. He frowns. —Strange, they do these things because they don't know better! They think it's the only way for them to live. If I can be against that so-called evil "nature", I know they can too-—

He snaps. —You're an exception, Star! —then he remembers we are not alone, and tries to compose himself. He does not know the driver cannot hear us. I wish I could do the same with myself and not have this conversation ever again.

—Stop claiming to be a demon only when it's in your favour. You claimed it for powers. Now you're claiming it to somehow prove to me that a demon can be good. You're a demon by nature, not by nurture. There is a difference. These demons were created for bad and were raised for bad. You were raised-—

Don't you dare say it.

—Sabrina raised me for bad too, don't act like She didn't! I am not going to forget that because even after that happened I am still not as evil as you paint us to be-—

—I think you might be forgetting it 'cause here you are, still trusting demons! —

Wong loudly groans, —Calm down! Both of you! —

Strange and I stop looking at each other, instead looking forward. I fold my hands on my lap and I can hear him take a deep breath as Wong keeps staring us down. Based on the buildings I see through the window, we are still too many minutes away from arriving at the Sanctum. Too many minutes.

I sigh, —Look, —through the corner of my eye, I look at Strange, —If we have to do another exorcism, I want you to be there. And I am going to show you how wrong you are. I will show you a demon can help us. —

He chuckles. It's sarcastic, but at least it's a chuckle. —And you're going to make a deal with it? —his voice is quieter, as if he was trying not to enrage Wong again. I nod. —Like the deal your father made? —

There is no comparison. Sabrina was just a special kind of demon, and Father a special kind of desperate god.

—Yes. —I nod again. —And don't bring Father into this. —

I look at him, and find him looking at me. —How did that deal go? —

—It ended in war. —

There are just too many factors that led to that war. From both sides involved. A small deal with an insignificant demon will not lead to more than a lie and maybe a small fight. And even if it could get worse, I will make sure it doesn't. Father always explained to me what mistakes he made, and so did Sabrina when She felt like talking about him. I know what not to do. It cannot repeat itself.

—But not this time. Not again. —

He stares at me for a moment. He does not blink. —If the next exorcism goes wrong, —he says slowly, watching my reaction. There isn't one. —You won't make any more decisions regarding demons. We won't let you do anything like that alone. —he raises an eyebrow, —Understood? —

I nod. He looks away.

Demons do bad things, but they are not bad. They are taught that it is the good thing to do. And maybe it is; maybe we are the ones doing bad. But there must be a middle ground. And they can exist there. Demons have acted the same these last two thousand years, yet I am sure this next stage Hell is entering will change that. They will be able to do good. There will be no more tension. Strange will see their potential, and so will they.

The taxi stops.