THE MAGICIAN ( dr. strange.. )

002. Friendly Negotiations..

"We should call Miss Harss," Wong whispered-yelled into Stephen's close proximity the morning after The Magician's Show roared the entire New York City, with promises of expanding to the whole country and who knows, maybe the whole world. In his hand, today's newspaper crunched and its first page held the core of the two sorcerers' concerns:

Public Enemy No. 1 Webbed a Controversial Lover: Is Wendy Weber Spider-Man's Informant In Stark Industries?

Not far away from them, the people targeted apparently by this seemingly harmless magic show waited on conjured armchairs. Peter and Wendy sat, holding hands, still processing through the mess and the hypnosis they underwent, while across the fourier, behind the massive stairs decorating this entrance area, Stephen regretted with every fiber of his being not having attended the show.

How would he have stopped this mess if he did attend it? Some reasonable side of him asked, but the pending guilt was a burden which, unseen, ate at that fragile thing in Stephen's chest which anatomy made him call "heart", while his more mystically inclined friends insisted it was the "soul".

The heart couldn't break out of the blue, but the soul could, and because of the soul's breaking, heart problems could arise. That was the philosophy Danny and Sierra went by, along with many others, including his predecessors in the Sorcerer Supreme position.

Thinking of Sierra only reminded him of the Multiverse issue and the heart wrenching second in which he pulled Sierra aside and asked the question he was perhaps better off without. Him and his god damned curiosity, need for knowledge... He doomed himself in that moment to knowing it was a variant of himself who broke the Multiverse somewhere far, far away from them in the first place.

Despite knowing nothing else about the Strange who had caused that mess, Stephen couldn't help but feel a pressing duty, to prove he was better, that he was not a threat to the balance of whole reality. Failure after failure, too much had piled up and this situation with the Magician destroying public images of someone like Wendy and Peter was a drop too close to overflowing his imaginary glass of emotions.

"No," Stephen shook his head, leaving no room for negotiations whatsoever. He could have complained at that moment about how Wong had preferred Sierra over him from day one, when that damned ancient dragon vomited a sling ring in her hands, but he didn't. Stephen bit back any mean comments and straightened his back instead. The collar of his cloak stood tall, framed his face.

"She's on a vacation," he continued. And this is a problem the Sorcerer Supreme should be able to handle on his own, he added that only for his mind to hear and regulate itself by the high standards he was setting for himself. Medical school didn't get finished by him relying on others after all.

Wong's sigh was deep, but though he had all the rights to point out that Stephen was mistaken about the case of the cassettes and the invitation, Wong showed mercy to his ego. "We need to play our cards very well with this one."

"Stay here and watch the two," Stephen nodded, slowly building a plan in his mind. He had no reason to fear the Magician, so he was going to walk right up to the face behind this show, wreaking havoc in the NYC news. "I'll handle the friendly negotiations."

"Just don't be...," Wong's voice, rather tired, stopped Stephen from his decisive step he tried to make. He instead had to pause, look back at his colleague and see that funny stance where his hands rested on top of his waist. "Just don't be yourself."

If a stab through the "soul" could be audible, then Stephen Strange would have been the epicenter of enough decibels to shatter every single glass surface in the Sanctum Sanctorum.