Something Missing
Something was missing. Stephen could feel it deep in his soul, like it was something very dear to him.
He knew he was missing something the morning after his latest big fight, which he also couldn’t remember. He just woke up that morning and couldn’t remember how he’d gotten back to the Sanctum the night before. The Cloak more than likely had carried him back home which, embarrassingly enough, was not the first time nor would it be the last time she’d done that. He must’ve been unconscious after the battle. The Cloak was conveniently missing so he couldn’t ask her.
He knew there had to have been a big battle because his entire body was sore and his magic was depleted. He did a perfunctory check-up in case there were any stab wounds or broken bones. Nope, nothing was amiss, which was a blessing in his line of work.
He sat cross-legged and meditated to center himself, trying to feel if he had been hexed, cursed, or poisoned with magic he somehow didn’t notice. This was his daily ritual now after any fight, because he and Wong didn’t want a repeat of the Portland’s incident, which they refused to talk about even now.
Using a remnant of his magic, he scanned the universe of anything wrong that he could have missed while he was sleeping. Again, nothing was amiss. It was a rare treat that everything was in a perfect balance, usually meaning something big was about to happen. Typical.
It was then he realized he’d missed something. It was such a weird feeling. He doesn’t forget stuff due to his eidetic memory. Oh, how he wished he could forget some things he had seen. The demise of heroes, the sheer number of casualties and universal destruction in all those alternate futures he had lived through, his multiple deaths and tortures by the hand of Dormammu, Memphisto, and all those powerful entities who treated humans like insects. Forgetting those would save a lot of trauma and therapy bills. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. That’s why it really bothered him that he missed something and didn’t even know what he missed.
Could it be his soul? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done transactions by gambling his soul to the likes of Mephisto or Satana. He meditated again to do a further magic scan. Nope, his soul was battered but still intact. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least it was not his soul.
He looked up from his meditation to see the Cloak staring at him intensely. He knew the Cloak couldn’t stare because she had no eyes, obviously, but that was the feeling he got.
“Am I missing something?”
The Cloak nodded her collars.
“Can you tell me what it is?”
The Cloak made a shrugging motion by lifting her “shoulders” and dropped them, doing it three time to emphasize her point.
“Fine. So it’s complicated. I’ll find it myself but you need to help me.”
The Cloak nodded enthusiastically before flying back to his shoulders.
There was nothing else to do regarding his dilemma. He would just have to figure it out along the way.
He returned to his daily routine as the Master of the New York Sanctum and aiding the Sorcerer Supreme, which meant plenty of research and legwork on his part so Wong could do his duty well. He wished he could accompany Wong in more fights, but he knew research was also super important. They already had insufficient sorcerers as it was, everybody had to pull their weights. He couldn’t let Wong spread himself thin.
Three weeks later
Stephen hummed happily as he carried his and Wong’s lunch. Today was a good day. The deli had Wong’s Tuna Melt and his Paneer Sandwich as the Specials of the Day. Because the sandwiches were cheaper than usual, he could spend the leftover money on a tub of Hunka Hulka Burning Fudge and a tub of his new favorite ice cream, Spider-Man Cherry Pie.
As he walked through an alley, he heard a groan of pain behind a dumpster to his left. Immediately he was on alert, lifting both hands in defense. He felt the Cloak tense around his shoulders as well. Slowly, he crept around the dumpster only to be shocked when he found the source of the sound.
Spider-Man was slouched against the wall with a pool of blood surrounding him. Judging from the wound, it seemed that he had been shot. Stephen quickly switched to doctor mode.
He ordered the Cloak, “I need you to press on the wound to staunch the bleeding.” She complied as he opened a portal directly to the Sanctum. Time was critical before his impromptu patient lost too much blood.