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“No, I am explicitly telling you. You are not allowed to come in here. I am under quarantine. This curse is dangerous.”
He could hear America groan from outside the door but honestly, Stephen didn’t care so long as she was safe.
From him.
It was a curse cast by a rogue sorcerer (when wasn’t it) and had hit Stephen square in the face. Luckily for him the first to fall victim to the curse was an unlucky bird who happened to look him in the eye. As soon as Stephen realized what had happened, he immediately created a portal to isolate himself.
That had been a week ago.
Wong had quickly pieced together what exactly Stephen had gotten hit with and rushed to the library to try and find the cure. Stephen was stuck in a room for everyone else’s safety and he honestly was fine there so long as no one would fall victim to the devastating effects of this particular curse.
“Stephen, it’s okay! We’ll figure this out together but you don’t have to stay in that room alone!” America pleaded. As much as Stephen could sympathize with the fact that she saw isolation as the most harsh of punishments, he wouldn’t budge.
“America, I keep telling you it’s not safe now. As soon as Wong finds the cure then I will be fine. Even with precautions we could outside of this room, something could happen and it would not be worth it.”
Stephen wasn’t even able to lock the room from the inside. It was unfortunately a feature of the Sanctum that any room could be used to keep a threat contained, which was unfortunately him at the moment, so no locks were permitted on the inside.
His blood froze as he heard the handle jiggle and the door swing open, unable to move quick enough to look away. He involuntarily glanced up at her and it was all it took.
“Stephen, I-“ Her sentence was cut off as the curse took hold. Her form quickly froze as flesh became stone and the snakes that were once his hair hissed at the intrusion.
“No. No no no no-“ He leapt up and rushed for America, forever trapped with a hopeful look on her face, sympathy on her lips as she tried to comfort him. One mistake, that’s all it took. It was always the damn small mistakes that took the ones he loved from him. “WONG. I NEED HELP!” He bellowed, grief aching in his throat in chest as he pushed the words out. He quickly grabbed the nearby blanket and wrapped his head so he would be blinded and not hurt anyone else.
That wouldn’t stop the mental image of the girl as good as his daughter being trapped as a statue from staying seared in his mind’s eye.
He could hear Wong running towards them but honestly, it was too late. Stephen Strange got someone else he loved killed.
He didn’t need to be cursed to be a monster. He already was.