WHAT: Stephen and Emme tag team Carol so she'll get a grip and switch them back (and she does! because THE POWER OF LOVE or something) WHERE: The Sanctum WHEN: Today WARNINGS: Language & sad feelings STATUS: Complete
The whole body swap thing had been stressful from go, but now that they were on day three, her patience had run thin, and unfortunately, she had only herself to blame. Her intentions had been pure and good, but she’d fucked up - something she’d admitted more times than she could count in the past seventy-two hours. Now it was just a matter of fixing it, something she’d struggled with so far.
She’d have killed to get into the Mirror Dimension for a couple of hours. She may not have her own powers and the ability to blast cubist mountains to pieces, but she would take any kind of primal satisfaction she could get by smashing things to bits barehanded. Her frustration levels were skyrocketing, and even when she found those periods of zen, the difficulties she was having always sent her right back into that headspace.
Currently, she was just managing to keep herself even. She and Stephen were seated on the couch facing each other, and he was guiding her hands with his own, trying to reenact the trainwreck she’d created the other day. It was coming along, actually, staying the appropriate orange color, then suddenly it flickered and her hands shook and it was gone.
“Fuck,” she hissed, her fury levels rising again. She glared in Stephen’s direction - not at him, exactly, but it was just the way she was facing, okay. “Did we ever think maybe you need to undo the spell? It was my body that did it and you are in my body.”
“That’s true, it was - but since your body messed up the spell, it would stand to reason that trying to fix it in your body would just nudge it further into a downward spiral.”
That was Stephen’s equally tired response because, by the Vishanti, he was tired also - exhausted, actually. It felt like a harness was tethered to his body, trapping him, keeping him in place and clouding everything, every thought (and some of them were doomsday thoughts about how what if they couldn’t fix this in time for the wedding and so forth?). He knew Carol’s body was equipped to go without sleep for a long time but he was mentally exhausted. Emotionally too.
Cranky. He wanted to be in his own room, in his own body, and wrapped up with his own wife - surely it was the same for Carol too and while Stephen liked Emme he didn’t like her in that way and there was no pretending as if they were people they actually were not. It wasn’t going to work.
Neither was this spell, apparently. But no - he couldn’t keep stumbling along that path into darkness that felt like walking up a spiral staircase and missing a few steps. They would do this. Only problem was, forcing it made things worse - because nothing happened and then you just got more frustrated. “You almost had it though,” he added, tone softening. Cloak even attempted to add some comfort, draping over Carol and the collar nuzzling her cheek - it had been with Stephen through every timeloop, against Dormammu, against Thanos; his relic was always there for him. It wouldn’t quit now.
Yeah, there was no mistaking that Carol was tired. Even after sleeping a full eight hours (because Stephen’s body required sleep, ugh), she was just as emotionally and mentally drained. She missed Emme (even though she was right here, had been since she first told her what had happened; but it was difficult in a body that wasn’t her own). She missed their own home, away from this place. And it wasn’t that she didn’t love Stephen and Wanda and the Sanctum - but being forced to stay here while they tried to set what she’d done right had her wanting to be literally anywhere else.
She appreciated Cloak’s support, though, leaning into the collar rubbing against her cheek. She wasn’t one to cry easily, but holy shit, she wanted to cry right now. The pain she felt every time she so much as lifted one of these hands was crippling, and she’d never valued being as powerful as she was as much as she did now, after being without it. She was always in awe of Stephen, in that best friend-y, you’re-so-cool kind of way. Now she was amazed he could exist like this because she felt like she was on the brink of breaking at all times.
She took a long, deep breath, slowly in through her nose and out through her mouth. Her eyes were a little glassy, but she forced the almost-tears away. She tried to steel herself again, jaw set determinedly, and nodded, teeth gritting as she lifted her hands back up. “Okay,” she muttered. “It did - it felt closer. Let’s try again. Help, please?”
Stephen didn’t like seeing her upset - he didn’t like seeing it on his face. The forming tears sort of crushed his heart a little - the same heart that was basically a swamp, a small lake that had been filled in with silt, broken quartz and sediment. “Of course,” he nodded, trying to keep it together so he didn’t cry too. “We’ll keep going - and if you need another break, just tell me.”
He reached out and placed his hands over Carol’s, helping her go through the motions of the right finger tuts to get the shimmering circles to appear - and, not for the first time, Stephen thought that this may be his fault. If he hadn’t chosen this bit of sacred geometry to start with maybe they wouldn’t even be in this predicament. But there was no point in dwelling on things like that - it was what it was, and all they could do was move forward.
Slowly, he went through it, concentrating with a furrowed brow - not too fast, maybe that's the ticket. However, he also knew that his hands had been a hindrance when he was first learning magic; he had to get past the pain, past the block of I can’t do this (after all, the Ancient One had shown him a sorcerer named Hamir who opened a portal with no hands) before he was able to be successful. And that was difficult to do when the ache was steel-against-bone.
There was no way Carol could blame anyone but herself for the predicament they were in. She had asked to learn, and Stephen had acquiesced because he cared about her and wanted to give her what she wanted. He had tried to teach her to start simply, and she was the one who had driven the runaway train that had gotten them here. She was used to being able to do what she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted. It was arrogance, plain and simple, and now she was being smacked in the face with the results.
Stephen was capable of undoing it. Even if her theory that she’d tapped into her own energy instead of magical energy to create this problem was true, it had been channeled through Eldritch magic which meant Eldritch magic could fix it. Unfortunately, the only one of them who was capable of that magic was Stephen, and right now, Carol was in Stephen’s body. So, not only had she gotten them into this mess, but now she had to somehow get them out.
It was a slow process - that was hard for her in general, moving slowly. With Stephen’s hands, it was downright painful and something akin to torture. He would be lucky if his teeth weren’t ground down to dust by the time they switched back. If they ever switched back. She was starting to lose hope, no matter how fiercely she tried to cling to it. Emme had been switched with a face twin for a few days longer than this last month, so maybe she shouldn’t be losing hope, but three days was enough. Too much.
“Think if I promise never to do magic again it’ll work this time?” she tried to joke, but the tears started up again. She blinked them back and tried to concentrate, glaring in front of her at the sacred geometry shakily forming, but she wasn’t doing well keeping her emotions in check right now. Everything was heightened, and she felt like she was walking on a tightrope; one wrong move and she was going to plunge to the ground below.
“Worth a shot,” Stephen smirked lightly, but there was definitely that softness still there in his eyes - he wasn’t about to demand anything, he had to be a patient teacher. It was something he’d learned recently, after Peter nervously knocked on the Sanctum’s doors and asked for help and then things went tits up (similar to this situation now - once again, Stephen was making decisions out of empathy and it was blowing up in his face); he also had to learn to trust others more. To know, and understand, that he didn’t need to do everything himself in order to do what was right. To be a good person.
Still, he really wanted this shenanigans to be over - that was a fact.
The orange glow to the symbols was hazy - everything was tremulous at best, but it was something to grasp and Stephen was going to latch on. “There we go,” he encouraged, flexing fingers and pulling back a little to help support the spell from the opposite side - he had to be positive, or else it would fall apart. Please don’t fall apart, please don’t fall apart.
And the less he said the better, probably - nothing about just keep breathing because he didn’t think that would help. He just had to offer up a prayer to the Vishanti, gods.
Carol tried her best to cling to the encouragement and keep on going, but her self-esteem had taken a hell of a beating over the last three days. She had tried and failed so many times, and she was just tired. She wanted it to be over but had basically no faith that she’d be able to set it right. Even now, it was all hazy and barely there, and she was trying to keep breathing, but she was really holding her breath because she was terrified that one wrong move would fuck it all up.
And she wasn’t sure what move exactly that was, but almost as soon as that thought entered her mind - poof, symbols gone. This time the tears hit and she couldn’t stop that no matter how hard she tried. She ripped her hands out of Stephen’s grasp, clenching them into fists. That filled her with instant regret, as pain stabbed through her and even made her stomach twist in revolt.
“I give up,” she snapped, tears coursing down her cheeks. Even Cloak’s attempts to hug the angst out of her, while nice, weren’t enough to change her mood’s course this time. “I can’t do it, Stephen. I just can’t. There has to be some other way.”
She knew there wasn’t. Emme and Wanda had both tried, and it wasn’t wise to involve outside magic in these situations - that would only increase the likelihood of making things worse. But even in Stephen’s body, she was just not made for magic, and the result was this pathetic mess she had made of him that he now had to look upon from her body.
Fuck, she missed her own damn body.
“Carol - ” Stephen was about to protest. To find within him, from deep down in the trenches (where it felt like they both were), the right words to say - but he had never been good at grand, music-swelling motivational speeches, and all the power in the world didn’t make a world of difference when it came to that (trust him, he knew - Strange Supreme had tried, before the Guardians of the Multiverse took on an Ultron with an infinity gauntlet. It was laughable).
Still, his heart was in the right place - it always was, for the most part. But he also recognized that he had to switch trajectories right now - that he couldn’t do it on his own, however, maybe with someone else? They’d make this work. Someone Carol clearly needed too.
“It’s okay,” he changed course. “Just wait here. I’ll be right back.”
He hadn’t mastered flying in the span of three days (more like he’d mastered a rush of adrenaline that felt like a geyser surging through him and propelling him into the air at high speed, before a lot of awkward falling) so he turned to Cloak, who immediately fluttered to him and latched onto his shoulders. Hurrying toward the Sanctum’s front doors, he was out and up in the air a moment later, heading in the direction he was sure Emmeline had gone - to drown her sorrows or also pick up some things they might need at Sanctum HQ; either way, he’d find her.
Emmeline was not one to let her emotions show if she could help it. After watching Carol and Stephen both struggling for days on end, all the while being completely unable to do anything to help, she was nearing the end of her proverbial rope. She hoped a walk might be just the thing to help her get a handle on her emotions so she could be the support that everyone needed. She’d taken off in a random direction, no true destination in mind, and as she walked she tried to sort through and compartmentalize her feelings about all of this.
She’d actually been making some good headway and could feel her control over her emotions strengthening once more when she spotted a familiar figure overhead. There was no mistaking that it was Stephen, even without the cloak. Emme had Carol’s mannerisms and movements down to a science, and she’d know her actual girlfriend anywhere. Three days hadn’t really lessened the sting of seeing Carol without it being Carol and unconsciously, Emmeline reached up and began fiddling with the necklace that hung below her collarbone.
“Hey.” Her tone was even and measured, despite her anxiety having shot sky-high once more. A thousand scenarios had begun tearing through her mind the moment she spotted Stephen, each more terrible than the last. “Is everything all right? I thought you and Carol were going to be working on things alone for a little while.”
“We were,” Stephen replied, touching down. The Cloak fluttered, a banner between slender shoulderblades (that weren’t his - by the Vishanti, he was also ready to be done with the situation). “And we actually seemed to be making progress, but - she’s tapping out and I think we need to tag team her to convince her that she can do this.”
Carol needed Emme’s support for the final push - it made perfect sense to Stephen. He loved her in a best friend way, not in a completely mad and beautiful kind of way - but combined, it would be effective. Because it was hard to resist when you had such strong support from all angles, when you knew people believed in you that much. Admittedly, he wasn’t used to that back home - it was always him having to do something difficult but having no emotional support to get it done. However, things were different now - it didn’t have to be that way anymore.
“If you’re okay with heading back, that is?”
Emmeline’s expression immediately shifted into one of absolute resolve. This was good. This was something she could do; the chance to not feel completely helpless. “Just try and stop me.” She gave him a small smile. “I can apparate us back - unless you’d prefer to fly.”
Oh no, was apparating the teleporting that made you want to puke up your lunch? Sling ring travel seemed a hell of a lot smoother but Stephen didn’t have that luxury right now. Not when Carol had the sling ring and they hadn’t even attempted to create sparks with it yet - because they were too busy attempting to figure out the body swapping situation.
“No, I’m good with the apparition,” he assured, waving a hand - magic fingers, though he was also sure that Emmeline used a wand for her particular brand of the arcane. “Let’s head back so we can pep talk our favorite Carol.”
Emme nodded and held her arm out for him to hang on to. Once he had a firm grip on her, she inhaled sharply, closed her eyes, and the both of them disappeared with a soft pop.
Apparition would never be considered comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, and she appreciated Stephen’s willingness in spite of that. She wanted to help Carol as quickly as possible, and this was the best way to achieve that. Everything went black and an immense pressure surrounded them on all sides. An instant later, the pair reappeared on the steps of the Sanctum. As soon as she felt solid ground beneath her feet once more, Emmeline turned to check on Stephen.
Oop, yeah, that was a ride. But given how he had traveled back and forth between dimensions many times - well, a little apparating was no big deal. Stephen had a strong stomach, okay, even when he wasn’t in the correct body. “All good,” he assured Emmeline with a thumbs up, just taking a moment to situate his brain in his skull and make sure his head wasn’t about to pop.
Still on his shoulders, excellent. They could move forward.
The doors to the Sanctum creaked open and Cloak eagerly tugged Stephen into the direction of where Carol was mournfully about to pass out in his body. “Brought you someone to help with the encouragement,” he said. “Because we’re going to do this, Danvers.”
Carol was definitely in a feeling sorry for herself position on the couch - stretched out, feet crossed at the ankles and propped up on the coffee table, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at…well, nothing in particular. The tears had faded, though a few stains remained on her cheeks. She knew she needed to rally and get this done, so they could both get back to their lives. She was well aware this was no more fun for Stephen and Wanda than it was for her and Emme.
But she felt helpless. She’d been feeling helpless much more often than ever before recently, and it was not a feeling she enjoyed at all. At least when it had come to the incident with Emme and Jennifer, that had been out of her control. Some mistake a child had caused because she couldn’t control her magic. The echoes of that situation weren’t lost on her, except she was a full-grown adult who should have known better than to attempt messing with shit she never had before, no matter what she’d meant to do.
She wasn’t surprised that Stephen returned with Emme. It did help to see her girlfriend, who had been so steady and supportive throughout this entire ordeal, but Carol was in a mood. It was going to take her a few minutes to get back into the headspace she needed to be in. Right now, it all felt like doom and gloom.
“We’ve been trying for three days,” she huffed at Stephen, and this time the glare was directed at him. “Don’t know what you think’s suddenly changed.”
“Hey there.” Emme’s tone was light, practically nonchalant, as she sidled to her right and stood in front of Stephen to intercept Carol’s glare. “Hi.” She gave a little wave to make sure she had her girlfriend’s attention, then put her hands on her hips.
“I’m looking for my girlfriend, perhaps you’ve seen her? Goes by the name Carol - never given up on anything in her life?”
Emmeline crossed the space between them and held her hands out toward the sulking figure on the couch. “Come on, up. This pouting is going to give Stephen wrinkles.”
There was some the old Carol can’t come to the phone right now - why? Because she’s dead joke a la Taylor Swift to be had here, and normally Stephen would have made it. But he was also far too concerned with wrinkles, no, please - Carol, smooth your face out right away, thanks.
“What she said,” he chimed in, folding his arms across his bosom (he had never really gone through the wow, let me touch my own tits phase of this adventure because as a doctor and after seeing countless naked people in a clinical setting, bouncy breasts just weren’t that interesting to him unless they were Wanda’s). “Look - I know we haven’t exactly made a lot of progress...” Or any progress. “And we’re both complete control freaks. But I think we need to let go of some of that, a little, if we want life to get back to normal.”
He moved to stand beside Emme so Carol could see the both of them, and continue glaring if she wanted. They were in the endgame now.
Carol sighed and straightened up, feet planting on the floor before she reached out and took Emme’s hands to stand as ordered. Part of her wanted to sulk and ignore everything for a while longer, but she’d been wallowing in self-pity long enough. She knew that tone of Emme’s and knew very well it meant business. Emme didn’t get stern with her often in their relationship, just on the occasion she was being difficult for some reason or another. It was usually deserved, and she couldn’t even deny that it was deserved now.
Stephen was right, too. She wanted to get back to normal, wanted to not have to look at herself when her friend was speaking, and God, was her voice always so fucking grating. She was wrong to get snippy with him, though, and shot him an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry. Mostly for being a shithead but the wrinkles, too. Wouldn’t want that.” She couldn't resist teasing, a smirk following as her mood lightened slightly. Wrinkles weren’t a concern for her, probably wouldn’t be for another century or so; Stephen didn’t have that luxury. “It just feels like we’ve made no progress, and I hate it. I hate feeling hopeless. And no matter if I try to tighten or loosen control, I can’t seem to make any fucking progress.”
Her gaze returned to Emme’s, her eyes softening. “And I’m sorry, babe. Again, for all this. I did a dumb thing.” There was definitely some shame in her expression. Good intentions meant fuck-all now that they were here. Her girlfriend had been so patient, trying to help her stay calm and find zen, and it felt like so far, it had all been for nothing.
Emme gave a small shake of her head and laughed. “Carol, do you know how many times I messed up when I was learning magic? I accidentally gave my father boils when he grounded me at 13. I set my bed on fire…multiple times. There was an incident with a frog that still haunts me to this day. I know those pale in comparison to what you’re dealing with right now, but the reason I bring them up is to remind you that this will be okay. We all mess up. Not even superheroes are exempt from it. What you need to do is remind yourself that it was an honest mistake, and try to let go of that guilt and shame that’s holding you back.”
Not even superheroes were exempt from it - oof, wasn’t that the truth. “I done messed up a few times too, with magic,” Stephen confirmed. The whole shitshow with the Runes of Kof-Kol had been one example of that and, granted, maybe it wouldn’t have turned out the way it did if the gates to the multiverse hadn’t already been blasted open but - there were probably a few things he could have handled differently, and he recognized that. “People, in life, make mistakes. It’s okay to make a mistake - being less than perfect is just a part of life too.”
That pained him to say. Because no one was perfect, not even him - he’d tried to be, for so long. He’d been afraid to fail, afraid of what it could mean - but he’d come to realize that something didn’t have to be perfect to be good; he could still be a hero without being perfect, and Carol could too.
He reached for her hand - broken, battered hands that trembled slightly but despite the tremors and the marred skin, the red-lined scars, they didn’t need to be perfect to work either. “Come on, we’ve got this.” Not just her - but they all did.
Gods, inspirational speeches. Someone stab him.
Carol wasn’t blind to what they were doing here - tag-teaming her, hitting her from all sides with tough love and reassurance and empathy. It still hit the way it was meant to, though. She knew she wasn’t perfect, but she had worked damn hard to be the best she could be basically her entire life. Especially after she’d taken on the mantle of Captain Marvel, and the fates of entire galaxies rested on her shoulders. She wanted so much to be the hero everyone needed her to be, but that didn’t mean she was immune to feeling like shit. Talos had always seen that in her, shielded her when she needed a few moments to just melt down.
Well, she’d had those moments now. She’d had several of those moments in the last seventy-two hours, and now that she’d given up, she had to muster up the nerve to un-give up. Stephen needed her to. Emme and Wanda needed her to. Hell, she needed to because she missed her own supercharged body and getting to kiss her girlfriend in it, something of which she’d been sorely deprived. She had to accept that she’d fucked up and use it as fuel to get it fixed instead of seething in bitterness.
“Okay. Yeah.” She nodded, one hand in Stephen’s and the other still in Emme’s. They hurt like a motherfucker, trembled constantly, and nothing seemed to change that - but when she squeezed the hands of two of the people she loved most in the world, it felt like the pain was gone. “Let’s do it. Anything to get the hell out of this place and go home.”
Emme visibly brightened as Carol finally seemed to come around. She had every faith that her girlfriend could manage to right this mess. Magic was complicated, and often unpredictable. All three of them knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt, but this situation was far from unfixable.
She gave Carol’s hand the gentlest of squeezes in return, before Emme turned her gaze back toward Stephen. “Is there anything I can do to help with this part? Or best to just be the very supportive cheerleader off to the side?”
In Carol’s body, Stephen lacked his usual Eldritch magic which was all light and warmth - but he still felt warm regardless, and he understood how those feelings could help ease pain; one of the few times his hands didn’t hurt was when he was touching Wanda, when she eased the aches just with him gliding fingertips over her skin. “Probably best if we’re both very supportive cheerleaders,” he said. “Carol, you know the spell by now.”
The sacred geometry. The symbols, the circles - probably knew it in her sleep at this point, like it was woven into her DNA and every cell. It was just a matter of iron will and showing that magic who controlled it, not the other way around.
And hey, the Sanctum wasn’t that bad, was it? Or, well - it was creepy and probably not where Carol wanted to live with her girlfriend so Stephen could understand the desire to be away. Especially after this debacle (she’d have to come back for his and Wanda’s wedding reception, but he didn’t need to mention that now).
Oh yeah, Carol knew it. If there was one thing she had learned, actually taken in and seared into her mind during this ordeal, it was the more precise shapes needed to cast Stephen’s kind of magic. She’d let the whole thing turn into a runaway train before, determined to get it right fast and this had been the result. Having a book shoved into her face with plain instructions and Stephen guiding her hands, regardless of whether or not anything truly sparked, had made a difference.
She cast one more look over her shoulder at Emme - making sure she was there but far enough out of their range that if shit went sideways again (God forbid), she would be safe - then gave Stephen her full attention. It was going to be a slow process, which she hated, but slow and steady. She could do this. She had no choice, and really, that was enough fuel for that fire. It was how she worked best.
It took time, but eventually, she had the full set of symbols and circles completed between them. It was orange and shimmering and there. Maybe fainter than Stephen’s would have been normally, but it was completed and sustaining itself. It felt like she’d just run a marathon, and her hands had moved past trembling to straight-up shaking, but she was holding on with every bit of willpower she possessed.
She looked at Stephen. It was this last part that was going to be a struggle, finding the exact right combination of tweaking to set them right. But for the first time since this had happened, she actually had hope they were going to get it right. She could feel the power thrumming through her, different from her usual cosmic energy but there, present, and she knew Stephen would help her cross that final threshold.
“Help?”
Stephen faced her, and this time he didn’t intend for an explosion - he lifted his hands and placed them against hers, the circles glowing between them like neon orange signs; when he added his own hands, his touch, it was a whole autumnal harvest in its illumination and he knew they’d locked on. “Good job,” he said and with a wink, added, “See you on the other side.” From his own body.
The switch happened then - the spell shimmered into existence and was cast with a push from them both, and instead of being flung against the wall Stephen felt a surge of what he’d classify an earthquake but it was in him; his magic returned, vibrating his bones and causing shockwaves beneath his skin, and then he could actually see Carol.
Could see her from his own eyes, anyway.
Blinking, he lifted his hand and flexed stiff fingers and - yep, there it was. He was back. “Phew,” he exhaled. “Gonna need a whole bar of alien booze after that one.”
Emme watched intently from a few feet away, her gaze shifted from Carol to Stephen and back again. At his affirmation that Carol had done a good job, Emme felt a warmth surge through her. Or perhaps that was just the abundance of magic emanating the two others in the room. She clasped her hands together and pressed them against her lips as she waited with bated breath.
When Stephen spoke again, Emme let out a squeal of excitement and threw her arms up in the air. “It worked!”
As soon as the switch happened, Carol felt like she was on fire - and that was how she knew, even before her eyes opened to Stephen’s face across from her and not her own. Her eyes glowed gold, heat filled her hands, and she smiled so widely it could have split her face wide open.
“Go to Al’s. Tell Alex whatever you want’s on me,” she told Stephen. She was grateful, of course she was, thrilled beyond belief that it was finally over, finally right again. But she had only one thing in mind to celebrate. Her gaze locked with Emme’s and she clapped Stephen on the shoulder as she walked past him to get to her girlfriend. “I’ve got very important plans.”