Small blessings, that Stephen isn’t quite enough of an asshole to lecture someone else about their substance use which he only just learned about, like, five minutes ago. Particularly when there were only seemed to be downsides in quitting: you would be eliminating the risk of going into accidental withdrawal, but it was balanced against the pain of withdrawal itself, and losing your powers.

But this changes the equation, abruptly tips the scales. It seems there was something Mobius hadn’t mentioned, has skirted around, and almost omitted entirely.

After a pause, Stephen asks: “What long-term effects, precisely? And how old?”

He’s shooting the other man a sharp, doubtful look: at the laughter-lines around Mobius’ eyes, the pure shock of grey in his hair. He’s, what, fifty?

Not aged yet, but also not young.