the harvestman

“You were also dead for a bit. You deserve it as much as I do.” Not that Jess had technically died. It’s complicated. 

“Yeah I don’t really like answering those kinds of questions either. Though I get ‘what does space prince even mean’ and I don’t know how to tell them that isn’t even a real title.” 

“I thought you and I were friends.” Illyana’s lips tug downwards. “You’re not being very friendly, Stephen.”

“That’s a bit harsh. Don’t you think, dear?” The question is thrown over her shoulder as Clea continues to search for the tome she’s looking for. She could use magic to summon it, but it feels good to use her hands. “People are — understandably — going to have a lot of questions.”

“I think they’re slightly my concern, considering the fact that we share a Sanctum.” Regardless, the logistics of who was Sorcerer Supreme and why wouldn’t matter much soon anyways. Once Clea and Strange could finally see things the way Stephen did, they’d understand. But he still had to put on appearances.

“And that’s sorted, then? ‘Cause that sounds a whole lot like being enslaved to me.” There was concern etched on Clint’s brows as he stared at his friend, but he didn’t want to push anymore than he needed to. Being Death’s servant sounded like a lot of baggage that Clint wasn’t equipped to deal with. He couldn’t help the self deprecating chuckle at those next words as he nodded slightly and tried to offer up a smile. Emphasis on tried. “You could say that, yeah. It’s been... different than the Thunderbolts I’m used to.”

Stephen let out a dry laugh. “That’s exactly what it was, I won’t mince words about it. I wasn’t myself for so long that having my soul back feels.. odd.” He placed a hand over his chest as he took in a deep breath. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t know if I would ever make it back. Making Clea Sorcerer Supreme was the last desperate act to try and make things right.” And now she was giving him the title back. Things were changing faster than he liked.

“I’m not sure if it’s distant, but it’s definitely different.” It’s hard to explain. Jane can’t find the word but it’s on the tip of her tongue and it’s driving her insane. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t know why I got to be special. I know there’s a lot of people who try to claim they’re not done yet and need to go back.”

“If there is something, Stephen, we will find it.” Wanda reassures him. “What you have been through is traumatic, in addition to the ongoing trauma of our current state of affairs. I believe you’ve handled your transition far better than many others could.” 

“I don’t fear Death.” Emma all but waves him off. “Not even before the resurrections.” Perhaps that’s foolish of her. It likely is. Emma just exists within a certain bubble of confidence and privilege that’s protected her since birth. Even after Scott attempted to choke the Phoenix from her body, her conflicting emotions didn’t exactly line with fear. “I hope this doesn’t make enemies of us, Stephen. That’d be quite a shame.”

“I can do my best to research. This other Wanda is more.. seasoned than I am.” Wanda herself has studied the Darkhold extensively, but not for as long as the other Scarlet Witch has been training and practicing. People forget at times how inexperienced Wanda truly is. She’s made herself enough of a threat that they don’t focus on the fine facts while they run from the blast radius. “For a number of reasons, yes. It’s similar to Westiew, but different in the places where it would count.”