The Sorcerer's Apprentice {Stephen Strange}

Fourteen

Black Magic Woman by Santana

Emerson races down the hallway, the Eye in her pocket as her hands push the wheels as fast as they could possibly go. She bursts outside, rain pouring down onto her sitting body as she darts across the plaza where the other apprentices normally train during the day. Outside the sky is dark and lightning strikes nearby, startling the soldier. By the time she makes it to the library, her hair is soaked, dripping onto her already wet wheelchair. She sneaks in, looking around to ensure that Wong isn't still working. Emerson grabs her book from the storage pocket on the back of her chair and she places it on a wooden table nearby. From the hexagonal bookshelf, she unchains a spellbook and places it beside the other textbook she brought with her. Normally she's not allowed to read the chained books without supervision from Wong. Apparently, that rule was implemented once Master Strange began learning here.

The sergeant locks her wheels at the front of the table to ensure she doesn't accidentally move. She quickly pulls the Eye of Agamotto out of her pocket and places it around her neck. Considering she's a lot shorter than Strange, it hangs down further than it does on him. She flips the book open to the previously marked pages, knowing she was going to need them as a reference. No matter how many times she's seen Master Strange use the Eye, she's never understood how it worked until now. She remembers Strange discussing with Wong how he used the Eye of Agamotto to recover a lost page from the Book of Cagliostro. Nearby sits a vase with a bundle of freshly picked roses from her garden. Emerson takes one out of the water, shakes it off, and places it on the table in front of her. To practice first, she raises her hands in front of her chest and takes a deep breath. Using her fingers to create the shape of an eye, just as she's seen Strange do many times before, she then crosses her wrists. Her fingers stay in the same shape as the Eye begins to open. The glowing light emits bright enough to illuminate the words on the books in front of her. The soldier jolts back in her seat, both apprehensive and exhilarated at her progress. Glancing down to read the next section of the book as a refresher, she raises her hands once more in a circular cupping shape to create a ring of green light. She pulls her left hand back and the ring travels up her other arm like a gauntlet of some sort. Energy pulses through her as she feels her heart beat faster, excited to test out her healing theory. She faces the red rose that's laying on the table in front of her. Emerson moves her glowing hand in a circle and watches the petals decay and turn brown in front of her. It shrivels up and becomes limp in front of her eyes, making her mouth drop open in surprise. Emerson then turns her hand in the opposite direction and the flower reverts to its original form with the thorns still intact. She watches the petals turn from a dark brown color back to the vibrant crimson it was when she found it.

"Holy shit," she mutters to herself in awe. She quickly plops the rose back in the vase where she found it, hoping no one would notice she even used it. Her eyes travel to her limp legs beneath her. She could do this right now. She could reverse her injury and be back to normal without all of the efforts. Hell, she could go as far back to make it so she was never injured in the first place, before the bare-fist boxing match. She could reverse time, back to when John was alive, begging her to throw the fight. Emerson could fix all of her problems right now.

She moves her hands to her legs, her palm merely inches away from her body. She takes a deep breath and steadies herself, not wanting to fuck it up. Slowly, she begins to move her hand, just as she did with the flower. An odd tingle starts in her legs, trailing up her back, and soon enough it turns into a searing, burning type of pain. She lets out a cry as it feels like her lower half is on fire. She didn't realize this process would make her feel like she's dying. The sergeant slams her eyes shut in an attempt to disassociate herself to escape the pain.

"Stop!" A voice behind her yells. Wanting to push through the pain, she ignores him and keeps her eyes closed. Memories and images flash through her mind, some that she remembers and some that never existed. Terrifying memories from the army play in her mind just as sweet childhood memories of her mother linger in the back of her mind as well. She grips the handles of her chair and throws her head back in agony. "Dammit," He shouts as he kicks the breaks on Emerson's chair to unlock them, and spins her around to face him. Her eyes fly open, the pain still climbing its way up her spine and to the back of her head. Strange grabs the Eye of Agamotto with enough force to seize it from the sergeant's neck. It snaps off and the green light around her hands dissipates and the terrible pain ceases. She lurches forward, nearly falling out of her wheelchair into the doctor's warm chest. Utterly exhausted, she rests her forehead on his t-shirt clad chest. Strange pushes her limp body back into the chair and reaches his shaky hands to firmly grasp her shoulders-- well, as firmly as he possibly can with his weak hands.