Wonderland: fell down a rabbit hole, you held on tight to me (‘cause nothing’s as it seems)

When the lights are off, and you’re surrounded by hundreds of other people on the dance floor, Wanda thinks, is the only time that being around a happy crowd is not isolating, but comforting. Because although their stray thoughts nearly attack her mind, powered by the heaven liquid that’s called alcohol, she can tell that there are so many people in this room, in this club that is just like her .

Can feel their emotions the same way the people at Westview must have felt hers. And the soul-crushing grief, regret, and pain, the need to forget--- it’s all there. And it feels like being inside her own mind. Except, unlike then, here and now, she can just focus on a different person’s emotions, someone genuinely happy, someone who hasn’t had a hard life.

And then get high off of their ecstasy. It’s the healthiest drug, she thinks, other people’s happiness.

Then again, she has listened to Heathers, and maybe slushies can compare to healthiest drug. It’s really just ice and…whatever flavours it. But then again, that is chemicals, and it costs money.

Going to parties and dressing up costs money too, her mind reminds.

The beat drops down on its bass, and all thoughts banish from her mind. She’s partying. There’s no reason to be thinking right now. Thinking’s only ever brought pain, thinking’s only ever made her unsure of how much she deserves, thinking’s only ever solidified the fact that she was a monster, and that it wasn’t her fault, and that it was all her fault. All her fault. All her fault. All her fault. All her fault. Her bad luck killed her parents. Her bad luck killed Pietro. Her bad luck killed Vision. Her bad choices killed her kids. Her only good choice was trying to rid the world of herself.

But Pietro wasn’t dead.

And god , thoughts. Again. She chuckled out loud. She really needed to learn to stop that.

She loses herself in the most pleasant way---any way would be pleasant, her mind is a death trap she’s not very keen on staying in for a moment longer if she didn’t need to---as she raises her hands, jumps and dances to the beast, she ruffles her hair, so carefully styled this very morning, (“Don’t burn my hair!” “I don’t know how to do curls, Wan!” “What?! You couldn’t have told me that before starting?!” “I THOUGHT YOU KNEW!?!?!” Pietro shrieked. “WHEN WOULD I EVER CURL ANYONE’S HAIR?! MINE’S LIKE TWO INCHES LONG!” “GIRLFRIENDS, PIETRO! YOU’VE HAD GIRLFRIENDS!” “Why is your first assumption with me and my girlfriends that I styled their hair?!” “BECAUSE I DID IT WITH MY BOYFRIENDS!” “I’m not you!” “You’re my twin, close enough--- PIETRO, my hair! My hair! It’s smoking! You burned my hair!” “UH-- DO I THROW WATER AT YOU?!” “-Don’t you fucking dare, I spent two hours putting on this makeup. I will murder you.”).

Yes.

So very carefully styled.

And for good reason, her curls last---a hint of magic, for what’s magic for if not making her life just a little bit easier?---even as she dances, and her hair follows, sleeves catching dark brown locks.

She’s wearing a flowy loose sort of black top, dark, with a jewel neckline, covering her collarbones (just because she’s in a party doesn’t mean she needs to dress indecently every day. She dresses for herself, after all, not anyone else), paired with the shirt is a sort of pleather---leather’s too expensive and less ethical for like no reason, there’s only a bare difference that she can cover with magic---pencil skirt that ends above her knees. She has black tights on as well as black heels.

( https://www.celebritystyleguide.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/Elizabeth-olsen-Hamilton-Behind-The-Camera-Awards.jpg w/ black tights)

Wanda hears the song switch to another one, it’s a few minutes in, and then she hears---“Does anyone know the name of this song?”---the girl behind her ask.

She closes her eyes briefly, and her mind sends forward, a thin, barely there wisp of scarlet, lost in the red lights of the club, and--- Confident by Demi Lovato?” She says, taking a step through the crowd to stand behind the girl and whisper behind her, one hand gently on her hip to settle her lest she jump. The girls turned towards her, her mouth open, and brows furrowed like she was about to yell, but then her eyes make contact with Wanda’s, she takes a few seconds of shocked (maybe?) silence, Wanda catches a few stray thoughts---‘ohgoddess, I will pray everyday’---and worries she’s been caught, was she recognized? God, she knew she should have checked the girl’s mind first to see if she was a big fan of the Avengers. Anyone who is could clock her faster than Pietro could even run for his pizza, which really, should be something the Avengers should give them awards for. Their fans are devoted. Goddamn, the amount of research they do.

If she ever wanted to know anything about a certain Avenger---Natasha aside, probably, files on the internet or not, shes a spy, and not much is known of her still---all she’d have to do is ask a Marvel fan, and listen to the thoughts that cross their mind and hear answers for more than her question. Really.

She didn’t know Thor liked poptarts until she met a Marvel fan. Answered her question as to why there’s always way too much stock of it at the compound. Not that it lasts long, between Pietro “I eat like a vacuum”, Sam “I eat snacks 25/8”, and Tony “I think snacks like pop-tarts are a good replacement for the meals I consecutively forget to eat while working because Pepper’s not here to remind me”. And of course, sometimes the rest of the Avengers have a few reasonable amount of pop-tarts at times as well.

She’s pretty sure there’s a part of budgeting taken out of the Avengers budget, dedicated to Pop-Tarts, and whatever company that makes them is surely glad for that. She’s surprised Tony hasn’t just gone and bought the company at this point.

But she digressed.

‘Fuck me. I’d pray at your altar, lady.´

Wanda suppressed a smile. Okay not too much. It resulted in a combination of half-smile and half-smirk sort of expression.

‘Oh, that is not fair. ’

The woman in front of her, auburn red-brown hair, dyed black highlights, light brown eyes, gold-like almost, and awesome eyeliner. Blue dress, white heels. Oh damn , Wanda thinks, Great style and she’s pretty. Redhead too, she’s my type.

“Wh-what?” The woman asks.

“The song. You asked. It’s Confident by Demi Lovato.”

“O-oh, thanks.”

Wanda nodded. “My pleasure, sweetie.” She used the hand on her hip to gently move her to the side as she walked beside her and make sure she was stable, because in a crowd this excited, she wouldn’t be surprised if someone bumped into them.  She let her hand fall from her hips and walked ahead. Then, she stopped, and turned towards the girl. “Do you want to get drinks? With me.”

The woman stared at her, then nodded almost too fast. Cute.

“What’s your name?” The woman asked as she kept pace with her through the dance-floor to make their way to the club.

“Wanda,” she said, letting her accent carry, tinge her words.

“Oh,” she flushed red and looked down at the floor, wearing a small smile.

Oh?

“Where’s the--- you have an accent. I mean-- of course you do, I meant like--- out of USA-- America--- USA--fuck---”

Wanda chuckled. “Take your time, dear.” She smiled, and reached the bar, hand on the woman’s back, gently guiding her and slowing down so she was walking ahead, when she felt a presence too close to them. A mind. Hazy. Drunk. High on ecstacy, probably without drugs?

He stumbled outside of the dance floor and barely avoided hitting the woman, if it hadn’t been for Wanda gently pushing the woman towards her direction, sparing her from his drunken tumble towards a chair.

Did he just knock himself out? Oh, no. Never mind, he was up.

“Ah!-- thanks, that was--- goddamn.” She stared behind her as she took the seat on the right of the one Wanda was in front of.

Wanda sat beside her, tapping the table. The bartender looked towards her and nodded.

“What do you want, dear?”

The woman turned to her. “Hm? Oh, uh--- it’s fine, I can order my drink-”

“Dear,” She interrupted. “I offered, it’s my treat.”

The brown-eyed woman slightly narrowed her eyes, and then nodded. “Just--- Dark n’ stormy.”

“Haven’t had that before.” She said, and the bartender made their way towards them.

“Two dark n’ stormy’s?”

He nodded.

“Thanks, Jer.”

The woman turned towards her. “You know his name--- got a nickname for him?”

“I know a lot of people’s names, not yours though.”

The woman paused, and hummed to herself. “It’s Mia.”

“Mia.” She nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Wanda.”

“So how do you know his name?”

“I come here a lot.”

“Picking up girls every night?”

“Oh, no.” She laughed. “No, that’s not me. I…I am not the playboy with me and my tw- brother. I…I like my quiet. He likes to flirt.”

“ This is you liking your quiet?” Mia gestured to the club, or as much of it as she could in one grand arm sweep.

“Well,” Wanda looked around, likewise. “”This isn’t quiet, of course. This is more… Escape.”

Mia nodded. “Ah, that I understand.”

Their drinks arrived.

“So. Wanda with an accent, who comes to clubs for an escape despite liking the quiet, and has a twin brother.”

“You know a lot about me already,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, well, you haven’t asked me anything. Kind of rude, actually.”

“My apologies,” Wanda pressed her hand against her chest, as if holding her heart. “I was too busy staring into your eyes.”

Mia broke into giggles. “Is that a line you use?”

“No, I-- no--” Wanda flushed. “I was being serious! Your eyes, they--- you have beautiful eyes, Mia.” She said, calming herself. She tried to smile with her eyes, as she said so.

Mia’s giggling ceased, and a blush, a red covered her cheeks.  “Well. Thank you.” She looked to the ground in that shy way of hers again.

“Is this your plan?” Wanda asked, “You stare at the ground. I can’t see your eyes, and I’m not distracted by your beauty; So I can… reciprocate questions? It is a good plan.” Wanda leaned her chin on her palm, regarding her with a careful gaze.

“Do you have a sibling?” Wanda asked.

“An older brother and a younger sister.”

“I’ve always wanted a sister.” Wanda took a sip of her drink. “I’m here to escape, so why are you?”

Mia smiled, amused. “Break from life, so I guess same as you.”

“Too much happening recently, or just, everything getting boring?” Wanda guessed.

“Intense.” She answered. “So many friends of mine are moving ahead with their lives, and I---”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve got rush-”

“I’m turning 30 in a few weeks,” Mia corrected. “There is a little bit of a rush.”

Ah. Well, at least it was morally correct for her. Wanda was, after all, 32. Kind of. Since she would have passed her birthday a few months ago had she stayed on her original timeline, she supposed she was 33. And 26. She was both 33, and 26.

God, time travel was so weird.

…She was a 26-year-old woman flirting with a an almost-30-year-old woman. Oh god, to Mia’s eyes she was the younger one. Then again, she didn’t know her age, and she liked to think her looks didn’t change too much as she aged.

“I thought you were in your 20s,” She made known. “You look amazing.”

“For someone my age?”

“No. Just amazing.”

Mia---who was almost turning 30, had two older siblings, wanted a break from life too, and was not a big Avengers fan, if she was an Avengers fan at all---turned even redder. “For someone who claims isn’t the sibling that likes to flirt, you are good .”

“Well, I learn from observation, and I am a very fast learner.”

Mia placed a hand on her arm. “Are you doing this on purpose, Wanda? Flirting? Trying to be like your brother?”

Wanda nearly flinched.

“Well, I said he was the flirty one, I never said I didn’t know how to do it too.” She reached out just like her, but placed her hand on her knee. “I mean, I got a pretty girl sitting next to me drinking the drink I bought for her, didn’t I? I’m doing pretty good.”

Mia looked at the hand on her knee. She looked up, biting her lip.

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Mia’s lips parted to express a small grunt, she didn’t know if it was because of how her back met with the concrete wall behind her or because of the kisses Wanda was leaving down her neck. She moved her hand away from Mia’s head, now that she wasn’t risk of hitting her head hard against the concrete.

They were in an alley, right next to the bar. Mia’d pulled her into a kiss and she barely managed to pay before they were leaving the club to do, exactly this.

Mia tugged on her hair and pulled her head up, wearing a small, slightly smug, smirk, their lips pressed together. Mia’s arms wrapped around her neck, pulling her closer, and Wanda tapped her thigh, signalling her to jump, and that she did. She caressed her hand up her thigh, under her dress, past the hem, and closer to where Mia wanted her most. Thighs wrapped around Wanda’s waist, she got even closer to the girl, bodies pressed against each other.

She could feel the way Mia’s chest rose and fell with her pants against her own chest, see the blush covering her face, taste her lipgloss and make her cry out in pleasure, although she was doing a valiant effort of trying to quiet herself. Trying. Wanda may have only married one man, but…well…

“Fuck, Wanda, oh god.” Mia exhaled.

Mind reading had its perks.

Experience and skill helped too, of course. Good thing she had a lot of it, and that she wasn’t wearing her rings today.

Wanda moved her fingers a little faster, thumb pressing against a stiff nub while two fingers filled the younger/older woman (???). Mia’s nails dug into her back through the fabric of her top. Mia leaned down again, capturing her lips in a kiss as white bloomed in Mia’s mind, Wanda’s knees almost went weak at the pleasure Mia telegraphed.

“Did I do good?” She asked after Mia had gotten her breathing back.

“Fuck you,” Mia cursed. “If I could feel my legs, I would kick you right now. You know exactly how well you did.”

‘Thank god I’m not standing’ , Mia thought.

Wanda shrugged. “Validation is addicting.”

Mia smiled, “I saw stars, Wanda. You definitely did well.” She said. “Can you let me down now?”

Right. Wanda let go of her hold. That was a fast-

“My apartment’s just right around the corner, if you want to continue.” Mia blurted. “You know, for uh, reciprocity. My turn making you-”

Wanda smiled, “-whose to say I didn’t already?”

Mia shivered, and walked ahead. “God, woman, you really do know what to say.”

Wanda followed. She did tell Pietro he didn’t need to wait tonight, right?

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Wanda would say she woke up with a pleasant ache. But. Super-healing took most of that away by the time she woke up. Hopefully, it’d deal with the hangover too. Oh thank god. She drank so much tonight that if she had to deal with a hangover after, like a normal human being, she would be crying right now. She never handled hangovers great. Last time they partied, she and Pietro, she drank a lot more than… that wasn’t a great idea. Her healing took a little bit longer to kick in. Just a few more minutes, but damn, she could not have handled that.

But what she did wake up to was a naked body resting on her arm, this woman---Mia---’s head on her shoulder. Soft breaths came from pink lips, and Wanda couldn’t help but be a little bit proud of the marks on Mia’s body. And hers, apparently. Maybe she wouldn’t heal those.

She tried to gently pull her arm back, barely succeeding. Mia almost stirred, and Wanda wasn’t sure she wanted that.

As she was putting on her top, Mia awoke. “Leaving so fast? I’d be insulted if that wasn’t just lowkey good manners.”

“Well, manners are a thing that I am good at.”

“You’re good at a lot of things, Wanda. Don’t play that card again.” Mia teased.

Wanda laughed.

Mia’s stomach grumbled, causing the auburn haired girl to blush red.

Wanda reached into the pocket of her leather skirt---one that hadn’t existed until like right now---and pulled out a wallet (again, hadn’t existed until now). She pulled out two bills. “You should get something for yourself.” She placed it on Mia’s bed. “My treat.”

Mia placed her hand over the cash, and stared at her. “If this is your trick to get laid again, you really don’t need one, honey. Have you seen yourself?”

Wanda turned, putting her hair up in a ponytail. “Hm,” she hummed. “I look decent, at least with me and my…” The Avengers popped into her mind. “Friends.”

“Your friends must be models that look like Greek Gods, because you are not just decent. You look like a Queen.”

Meant to rule everything-

“Well, who’s to say I’m not one?” She found her shoes, put one on, and then the other, and headed out to the door.

Mia was shocked silent, it almost made Wanda laugh.

Then, as she walked past the door, she heard--”Wait this is $200 dollars!”

“Keep the change?” Wanda replied, and closed the door.

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Wanda tried to sneak in quietly when she got back, but maybe she should have relied on her magic more than her skill, considering how clumsy she could be, and how much of a guarantee her magic was for-

Not for everything , her memories remind.

-most things.

But if there was one person in this team that could rely on her skill to sneak past anyone, it’d be Natasha Romanoff. Who Wanda almost ‘snuck’ past. She only barely noticed there’ was another presence, and it wasn’t because of her senses, it wasn’t because she saw or noticed Natasha---dear god, that woman could disappear if she wanted to---it was because of that pleasant buzzing of her mind.

It was like 4 AM, why was she down here?

She’s always down here , her mind thinks.

“You’re home late,” Natasha remarks.

“Yeah, was--with a friend. What about you?” Wanda asks, resigned to her fate, she places her heels down on the seat beside Natasha, and begins to fill a glass with apple juice. She placed it on the counter, and moved her shoes to the floor, taking the seat beside her.

Wanda feels a spike in the wave-chatter of her thoughts, a sort of panic, and raises her walls high up lest she hear something Natasha doesn’t want her to hear. She’s done something horrible to the woman already, she doesn’t want to ever invade her privacy again. Shields Natasha’s mind as well, just in case.

A thought makes its way to her anyway, despite all her precaution-- month .

Briefly thinks it might be her period. Then remembers she came from the Red Room. Dismisses the curiousity. Natasha’s thoughts are her own to think over, not Wanda’s. If Natasha wanted her to know, she would have said.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Natasha answered. “Too much energy, I guess.”

They did train a lot today. Or well, Pietro said they did. Wanda’s still staying far far away from there. She doesn’t know how well she can act like she can’t fight and doesn’t want to risk questions. Plus she’s still making that disc for Pietro to watch WandaVision.

“Cool.” She hears herself say.

Cool???

Wanda considers rewinding time.

Natasha chuckles, and Wanda’s distracted almost immediately. The sound playing in her head like a video on loop.  Decides, maybe time can stay as it is.

“So what’d you do while we were training, little witch?

“Not a witch, and I cleaned up  Pietro’s side of the room.”

“Oh?” Natasha raises a brow. “If I’d known that rooming with you would mean I’d get my own personal maid, I would have asked you to move in with me months ago.”

For lack of a better word, Natasha freezes after she says what she says.

Wanda’s not sure though, she was too busy panicking inside her own head.

‘She what?Moving in with Natasha? Oh god, living with Natasha?! Natasha Romanoff. The hottest woman in this team (neé whole world)? Reply! Joke back. Tease back. OFfer cleaning services? Oh, fuck, what do I say?’

She doesn’t realize she’s visibly stopped breathing until Natasha’s hand is on her shoulder, and pretty emerald green eyes---so so pretty---are staring at her with a mix of amusement and concern and “Breathe, Wanda.”  The former-Red Room agent takes an exaggerated breath, and Wanda mimics her. Knows she can trust her. Follow her (to the ends of the world--- shut up, brain).

“Yeah-- sorry, I was… uhm. I could clean your room?”

Natasha laughs. “You don’t need to, Wanda. I was just kidding.”

“Right. Right uh- right.” She turns back to her apple juice. Dies a little bit inside. Not that there’s much alive inside of her to die at this point. No. Bad brain. Bad thoughts. Go away.

Wanda turns towards her, and opens her mouth to say something, but Natasha beats her to it.

“You look good in that outfit.” The words fall easily from the older woman.

At least she’s pretty sure Natasha’s older than her.

Natasha was about 32 around now, wasn’t she? Always older than her. At least that would never change.

It could have, her mind whispers, if you didn’t die. You would have gotten older than her. You’re always going to grow older than the ones you love. It’s all your fault.

Wanda blinks. Yeah, Natasha’s older than her

And she just complimented her.

On her dress.

Natasha thinks she looks good .

Natasha was paying attention to her .

Wanda flushes red, redder than Mia for sure, at the implication, and compliment. “O-oh, thanks.” She brings her glass up to her lips, and takes a sip.

“Look good with a blush too, it’s cute, seeing you all red.”

She sputtered over her drink, spitting liquid back into the cup.

Wanda would have thought it funny, would’ve reminded her of Talya the first time she tried Pietro’s alcohol combinations---which really, considering Talya never liked alcohol, should’ve made what happened next obvious---if it hadn’t been her.

However impossible, Wanda tries to hide behind her cup. Then she reminds herself, she’s the Scarlet Witch. She reaches out, tangling her fingers as gently as she can with Natasha’s red hair, and smiles. “I guess Red’s just my colour.”

Natasha’s eyes widen for a second, but her expression is wiped away a second later; easy, cool, green eyes relax. “I guess it is.” She smirks. “Is it your type too?”

She thinks of Vision’s red, Natasha’s hair, Mia’s auburn, and the way she wanted to have a small piece of Natasha with her on the run, while living with Vision, that she had her hair dyed red and--- “A little bit.”

Natasha chuckles. She’s heard it a hundred times, more so in this life actually directed at her, instead of just around her, but the way that it makes Wanda feel, like she’s achieved impossible things, and fate is rewarding her, and the butterflies that accompany are just part of the prize--- she doesn’t think it’ll ever go away.

“Is that what Pietro meant by ‘Avenger Red’?”

Wanda’s eyes widen. She heard that?!

“I-- you know what, I just forgot, I have-- clothes to fold. Liho, to-- walk---feed. Feed.” Her voice cracks , like some teenager during puberty and she wants to be back in Mount Wundagore as it crashes immediately. Right now. Please?

She gets up, downs her juice like it’s a shot, and---it’s the alcohol, she tells herself later---presses a kiss to Natasha’s cheeks, and stares into her eyes, surprised and widened again, so pretty.

It’s nothing like Vision’s eyes, nothing like Mia’s eyes, nothing like any of her past lovers’---not that Vision is a past lover, like an ex or, something---and it’s on a whole different level of beauty. She likes that.

Then she floats the cup over to the sink and heads right for the elevator.

Just as the doors close, she sees the older woman touch her cheek.

Wanda feels like a giddy school-girl as the elevator goes up.

The butterflies stay with her even as she climbs into bed, clothes changed already through magical means.

She wakes up with a smile on her face, and thinks---

This is so pathetic .

(but it’s a sort of pathetic she’s not too against).

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Steve comes into the room holding a tablet that he’s pressing on, and he’s wearing a standard white shirt, blue jeans and denim jacket, and somehow looks so patriotic, more so than anyone else in the room, despite the fact that he and Pietro are wearing the same thing. He’s wearing chains with the outfit, yes, and fiddling with the clip on---does it count as a charm?---stuffy of Mister Dibbles who, is also right beside him. He’s reading him a story.

From her observations, he’s started that habit since she was in a coma and he couldn’t find it in him to stop so instead of her, it’s Mister Dibbles that he’s been reading to.

“What would you say is your constant mental state?” Steve asks.

“Anxiety,” Tony answers.

He’s walked into the living room to make himself a snack and yet for some reason, oil still scarcely staining his clothes, he hasn’t left in like, 30 minutes.

“High.” Pietro answers, turning a page.

“Depressed.” She calls after him.

“Constant state is trauma.” Natasha adds, joining in easily.

Steve lifts his head. He stares at them. “Alright, I set myself up for that one.” He shakes his head. “Okay, more serious this time. It’s for a-- it’s a questionnaire, from the Government, to like, basically check in on us.”

“Just put in bullshit answers, man. Like relaxed or content, or happy or some shit.” Sam told him. “Go away, we’re tryna chill, you’re not helping the mood, man.”

Wanda leans back and turns on her music, she watches as Steve walks out of the room, and turns towards the book in her hand.

Pietro nudges her. “Why does Natasha keep looking at you with a smirk?”

“We’re not going to talk about it.” Wanda whispers back.

“Oh, I think we’re definitely going to talk about it.”

Wanda strokes Lilo’s head. “I can make your mouth disappear with a thought, Pietro. Don’t try me.”

“Did you kiss her?” Pietro teases.

“No, of-” She remembers. “Go back to reading.”

“Oh my god you kissed her!” He whispers, almost like hissing.

“Shut up, and it was on the cheek.” Wanda whispers, smacking the back of his head. “It doesn’t even count.”

“Oh, it so does. You making the first move? Establishes you as the top.”

“We’re not in a relationship, I’m not the top.” Wanda says. “And--- actually, why does it even matter who the fuck tops if we ever did date?”

Pietro turns to her, as he’s slowly pulling out his phone. He opens Tumblr, and creates click a post. Wanda doesn’t recognize the user handle, which is weird considering they both made all sorts of social media accounts together, and was each other’s first follows, subscribes, etc.

“Nothing,” he says, although he shakes his head too much and looks to the side. So, Wanda watches him, as he types.

She’s shocked.

“Are you running an Avengers fucking…snitch blog?”

“I---uh, you, etzedivah-” He stammered. He had that habit of saying gibberish he got cornered. She used to as well, but with all of Natasha’s training on changing accents, and speaking good English, it had been practically trained out of her.

Natasha, the woman who trained her out of it, is also coincidentally, the only person who has ever pushed her close to repeating the long-stopped habit.

“It’s not about all of the Avengers?”

Wanda snatched Pietro’s phone out of his hand. She scrolled down.

Wanda Maximoff is a top!!! (I lowkey didn’t want to know that, but I hope you like that fact. I didn’t really wanna know my sister’s position like…that.)

“I’m a switch, actually.” Wanda corrects.

Pietro cringes again.

Natasha Romanoff gave Wanda a shirt she wears around in her room almost every night. I know because we share a room, sister and brother, can't be separated and all that.

Wanda used her powers to protect Natasha from nightmares for a set period of time. It was, like, really gay.

Wanda got injured on a mission and Natasha was the Avenger that visited the most.

Wanda Maximoff straddled Natasha Romanoff outside of the building for finding her cat. Hugged her, too. She was wearing like the biggest smile I’d ever seen her with in years. Not a lot of reason to smile as orphans in Sokovia.

“Oh my god, is this about me and Nat?”

5,986 Notes

“Why are, like, 6 thousand people interested in this?”

“They think it’s a shit-post ship---per code thing.” He said. “But they like the posts.”

“It’s just me and Nat--tasha. Natasha. Natasha. No nicknames.”

“ You call her by a nickname?! Oh my god!”

Pietro reaches for his phone, and Wanda slaps his hands away. “Shut up! Do not post that. Just--- why do you have this blog?”

“You know that site; AO3?”

“With the fan theories and everything?”

“Yeah, these just like, uhm…kind of powers their theories. Gives it a…base to exist on.”

“Oh…so it’s just…You’re helping them kind of keep building their community and theories about us?”

“Yeah,” Pietro said, his voice barely stays on its pitch.

“That’s…nice, I guess.” Wanda acquiesces.

Wanda braves it and opens the notes, and checks the comment.

Sees the word gay, and closes it immediately after. She is not prepared for what she might read if it’s a post about her and it has the word gay in it. She isn’t really curious to know about what tor which one they deem gay.

“Both, if you’re wondering.” Pietro answers. She almosts asks how he knew, then remembers their bond is not only growing, but he knows her like the back of his hand. Or well, used to. There are some things she doesn’t know now, after all. Wasn’t there for every moment of her life like he was back then. Now. Then?

Fuck, stop thinking.

“Shut up.” Wanda passes his phone back to him.

Pietro laughs, as he takes it back and turns back towards his book to keep reading to Mister Dibbles.

Wanda stood up from her seat, sitting next to Vision instead. She raised her hand behind her book, and flipped him off. Pietro laughed louder. Wanda clutched Liho closer to her chest, and cooed. “You’d never betray me like him.” She whispered.

Her heart clenches.

Liho meows cutely and gently places her paw against her breast, licking her cheek. She was trying to comfort her! It was so cute--- she was so cute---and Wanda loved her so much.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Wanda’s in her bed, watching Pietro toss his clothes around, and come out in different outfits at super speed depending on her nods or the shakes of her head, on her comments, positive or not. Liho lays on her chest, held close with a hand on her small body, stretched out languidly, sleeping comfortably.

It’s kind of funny.

He’s acting like he’s got a date.

Wanda’s the only one so far who’s actually had a sex life this run of the timeline.

He’s going to this concert.

And it kind of makes sense how excited he is because he’s been waiting to go to a concert of this particular artist since before they got out of Sokovia. Just a little bit before the experiments.

Illenium, she’s pretty sure. Pietro’s had her listen to their music, and it was good. But not good enough for her to leave the compound to go to the most crowded and packed place she could possibly think of where everyone’s thoughts will be so so loud and screaming.

“Piet,”

“What?” He asks, as he takes off his sweatshirt again, and puts on a hoodie. He still hasn’t decided what sort of aesthetic to even style his outfit for, it’s been an hour. At least he stresses. Wanda would be a lot more embarrassed if he just put on a hoodie and called it a day.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot. But first, should I do a hoodie, and denim? Or hoodie and varsity jacket?”

“You’ll overheat. Neither.”

“Ugh shit okay.” He groaned. “God, I hate myself. I literally can’t fucking decide on anything!” He groaned even louder, almost at the level of a quiet scream, due to his frustration. “This would be much easier if I was cooler and better, and had your powers.”

Wanda sat up, keeping a tighter hold against Liho, using her magic to make sure she remained in the same position, lest she wake.

“Hey!” She exclaimed. “None of that bullshit talk, alright?! You’re cool. You’re great. You are so much better than me, powers or not, so I don’t ever want to hear you thinking you’d be better if you had more powers. I can have everything, but I had nothing in my last life. You already have so much, you’re doing a great job, leading your second life. You should love that. And yourself.”

Pietro offered her a small smile on the mirror, grateful and fond.

Wanda laid back down on the bed, staring at the roof. She let her magic dissipate and her hand fall to Liho’s tiny little furry head, and stroking her cute little nose. Ugh, the most adorable thing ever was laying on her chest sleeping, and Wanda felt like she could die of cuteness overload for real this time.

“Wait, don’t you hate yourself though?” Pietro asks, breaking the silence.

“Oh, 100%, I disgust me. But this is about you, Piet.” She answers.

Pietro stared at her. She stared back. Eventually, he gave up first because he still needed to do things like pick an outfit .

“Oh, yeah, you had a question, right? Go ahead and ask.” Pietro leans down after he takes off the hoodie. He takes his water bottle and practically chugs.

Wanda hums. Right. She did have a question. She almost forgot.

“What’s a sugar mommy?”

Pietro chokes on his water almost immediately.

He coughs, and coughs, after the bottle has parted from his lips, and he stares at her in shock. “W-what?!”

“Well,” Wanda starts, paying his reaction no mind, nor taking it as a warning for the explanation she was about to get. Hindsight makes everything make sense though, or something like that, and perhaps she should have. In hindsight. This is not hindsight. This is current her, asking current Pietro, without knowing better just yet. “Mia thought-”

“Excuse me?” Pietro interrupts. “Who’s Mia?”

“A one-night-stand.” Wanda answers, looking to brush over this part of the questioning as fast as possible so she can get back to getting her answer. It’s been stuck on her mind for four days now since the night itself. “Anyway, obviously it’s slang. I don’t think she would’ve fucked me if I was giving off motherly vibes-” Pietro coughs again, harder, drops his hoodie and pounds his fist against his chest.

Okay, maybe she was wrong.

People were attracted to that????

That was…definitely something she had no plans of finding out, but it was something she knew now.

“A-anyway, uhm, again. She thought it as I left her apartment. And I don’t…know what it means---and I am so not making the same mistake of searching it up on the internet again.”

The whole thing with ‘spice’ slang for books had her staying away from social media and books for at least 3 days---then she picked up her book, because there was nothing else to do---when Pietro finally convinced her it was fine considering none of her books whatsoever had any spice. Barring one book, but they weren’t going to talk about that.

Barring three books, actually, not that she thought about it. They still weren’t going to talk about it.

She could still feel Pietro’s absolute awkwardness and ‘trauma’ freeze when the book’s brought up. He’s pretty sure he made the mistake of trying to read it to her at her bedside…

Poor Pietro, honestly.

Funny sight to imagine, though.

Wanda lifted Liho, pressing her nose against Liho’s snout; a nose kiss.

Pietro finished his shocked silence with a long deep inhale, and then, “An older woman who…pays for things for another person’s…company. It doesn’t have to be sexual or romantic, but it’s widely assumed it mostly is.”

“Do I look old?!” Wanda shot up from the bed, to bring a mirror over to herself. She was literally years younger right now, and Mia thought of her as an older woman???? She’d aged well, but she knew she had younger features at this age.

“No!” Pietro answered, as if on reflex. Nice. Smart. It was probably one of his girlfriends that drilled that instinct in. Good for them. “It’s--- well, most of the time it’s older women but it doesn’t have to be---sugar mommy doesn’t have to be someone older.”

Wanda let her brain catch up, “Wait so… If she said she wants me to be her… She meant that she wanted me to…to spoil her by buying her plenty of stuff in exchange for her possibly romantic-sexual company?”

Pietro rushed into the walk-in closet, and it was enough answer.

“ Oh .”

The twins didn’t talk for half an hour.

Pietro goes out to his concert in a plain dress shirt with a black turtleneck underneath, partially buttoned up, and a blazer over him, along with a black belt and slacks. He looked good, casual, stylish, but not too much considering he was going to be in a concert. Wanda gave him a rolex before he left, just as a sort of gift. He’d been living with the smallest for so long, why shouldn’t he get to experience the world Tony Stark lived in? The world of a rich man.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

While Pietro was out for his concert, Wanda wandered the building to go find something to do. She’s not really up for meditating; hasn’t been for a long long while now, a few days after she told Pietro about the truth of the month before the mission.

Keeping her mind quiet and peaceful, clearing out her thoughts, and centering herself? Yeah, that all sounded nice, but it involved entering her mind, and as of recently? Her mind was a horror movie, something she wanted to stay far far away from, not willingly enter. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of doing that again.

Made her nightmares worse, and her mental walls faltered even more when she did so, so others’ nightmares came right to her. She hadn’t been aware it was possible for her nightmare and Steve’s to merge, but it apparently was, and honestly there were a few similarities.

Both experimented on, both gave more than they had, both lost someone that had recently been un-lost (not really found), both had lived in poverty and in war-times, been sickly and traumatized, took too much responsibility and cared too much about things that perhaps they should  really just find it in them to stop caring about.

Wanda never wanted to have two nightmares all at once, no thank you. One per night was enough torture.

She went out the building and took note of Vision a little farther, floating higher than he usually does, past the building and some of the trees around the compound. Was he taking a ‘walk’? She flew up to him, crossing big distances patiently, until eventually, she was right next to him.

“Hello, Vision.”

Vision turned, and he smiled. “Hello, Wanda.” He intoned. “What a nice morning it is, isn’t it? Have you come out to watch the sun?”

“No,” she answered. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“Oh, yes.” He said. “The sun is such a powerful thing, so dangerous, and really, should be a big reason for alert. It is…a ball of plasma and energy so strong that it could burn us all if it was closer. And yet, it gives so much life. It is so beautiful to them--- humans. Something that humans…people…beings appreciate rather than fear. I…admit, I wanted to see the appeal.”

Wanda smiled, gentle and soft, because of course he did. And of course he could see the dangers of the sun and yet want for nothing but to admire its beauty, or, find out why it was so beautiful. “And have you?”

“Yes,” he answers. He turns to her. “Yes, I believe I have.”

She smiles at her feet, and blushes under his gaze, a light soft dusting of red. She feels flattered, and appreciated---quite like the sun, she’d imagine, if the sun was a sentient being, although, by Vision’s words, she is quite like the Sun, in all it’s ‘beauty’ and power---and she feels a warmth over her. The sun’s rays hitting her skin suddenly feels a lot more like heaven than it’s been in decades.

Standing here with Vision, it makes her feel nostalgic. Sends her back to the times that she and Pietro would climb up on the mountains of rubble caused by some sort of explosion or crash, and she’d feel safe and happy, and know she was loved, because there was someone she was comfortable and safe with right beside her as the sun spread its warmth to her, and she had that feeling, that long faint and barely still there that everything would be okay .

Powerful as she was, as anyone was in this world, in any world in this universe or multiverse, there was a sun---star---to almost every planet, that watched over them, so much bigger than them and so much smaller than them all at once. 

She turns to Vision, the sun on half his face. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“You’re welcome.” He says. “Thank you for standing here with me.”

They smile at each other.

Wanda feels like fate will be nice to her this time. Maybe this time, she can keep sharing smiles and moments with Vision, with Pietro, and Natasha, and all the rest, and none of them will ever be ripped away from her again, leaving holes in her heart just like, and worse than, when she could physically feel bullets tear holes apart in her.

They turn to the sun again, and watches as it sets.

It reminds her that these are the moments that can never be stolen from her. A purple-blue tinge covers the sky with the sun’s disappearance, and yet, everything is still… Beautiful .

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Hey, Wanda!” Sam calls, as she gets up from the kitchen counter to place her dish in the sink. “Yo, you gotta tell your brother to stop using emojis or something.”

Wanda turned, curious. “Why?” She asked. “He can use whatever he wants.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s cool and all, but-” Sam pulls out his phone and begins to open apps,and scroll up. He shows his phone to her, his and Pietro’s messages. She takes it from him gently, “-He should really only use them when he knows how to, and when he stops talking like he’s trying to make me guess his pictogram-hieroglyphic code sort of crap. I ain’t tryna play no games, I’m tryna talk and shit.”

Wanda looks and reads. Laughs at the first message she sees from him. She doesn’t even have to scroll.

Fast Dude :
🏃 💨 ➡🥞🥓🥚➡🍳

“Like, what the fuck does that even mean?!”

“Get breakfast.” She said. “He’s saying let’s go out to get breakfast.”

Sam takes his phone, reads the message, and goes “ohhhh!!!! Thanks, man. I’ll ask you to be my translator. I’ll just text you--- wait, come to think of it. Do I even have your number?”

“No,” she said. “I can give it to you right now though, she flicked her hand up, surrounded by Scarlet, and her room flung from her previous seat and right to her hand. She scrolled through, and showed his his number.

“Yo, thanks.” He said. “But still; tell him to stop, man.”

“Yeah, got it.” Wanda nodded, laughing. She placed her phone down on the farther side of the counter and turned back to the dishes, planning on doing at least one chore to help out today.

Natasha places her plate of pancakes on the counter, and she leans her chin on her hand. “So is Sam your favourite now?” She asks.

“Hm?” She lifted a brow, talk about mimicking the past; she’d had a similar expression on when Vision said that no one disliked her, didn’t she? “What do you mean?”

“First contact aside from your brother, I assume. And it’s him.”

Was she jealous? No, couldn’t be. She was the (kind of) redhead with a crush here, and she knew it wasn’t reciprocated. After all, why would anyone like Natasha even look her way when she could have the whole world at her fingertips (barring gays, asexuals, demisexuals that didn’t know and trust her, and, she supposed, straight girls? There were probably more that she was forgetting).

“Is that how we judge who my favourite is?” She raised a brow. She got her phone from the side of the counter she’d placed it down on, and spun it around, then pushed it towards her---she remembered doing the exact same thing after skimming the Accords.

And just like before, Natasha shifted in her chair. Made her curious.

“Put your number in then.” She said to Natasha.

“What?”

“Well, if we’re judging my favourites by who’s in my phone, you should put your number in.” She smiled. “Wouldn’t want the boys to get the wrong idea.”

Natasha pursed her lips, looking like she was taking a second to pause and just let whatever thoughts were in her head run around, then she collected herself, her expression showing nothing once more. Then she smiled, and looked up at Wanda.

Only now did Wanda realize their close distance, but she didn’t back down. She, standing, was looking down at Natasha a little bit, with a brow was raised, and a small smile on her face---like when she was fighting against Kamar-Taj at the airport, she thinks---as Natasha looked up at her, chin on her palm, sat by the kitchen counter, with wide green eyes and a smirk on her full, red lips.

“Sam already got his number in,” she countered.

“I haven’t saved it. It doesn’t count yet.”

“So you’ll save mine first?”

Wanda took a smaller step forward, moving closer, saw Natasha move back a little. She smirked; “Favourites first, after all.”

Natasha gulped.

She broke eye contact first, by looking down and taking Wanda’s phone, adding her phone number in. Wanda was pretty sure she was adding her own contact name too. Then she sent a text.

Wanda picked up her phone, and read it. She smiled.

Favourite Avenger:
Can’t take it back now.

She took Natasha’s phone as she placed it down and set her own name on her contact. Then sent a message back.

Not-a-witch :
Wouldn’t dream of it.

“What about Vision?” inquired Natasha.

“Well,” she started. “Don’t tell him this but---” She leaned in, but not in the same way she had before, their faces barely apart, this time she leaned in to whisper right to Natasha’s ear. “He’s just my second favourite.”

Husband or not, in the future, he didn’t even exist until she turned over to their side. However, Natasha had; Natasha definitely existed before Wanda became a ‘good guy’ (however temporary). And having a crush on the Avenger that was on the opposite side, even if she ‘hated’ her at the same time would probably qualify for her being the favourite Avenger.

Marrying the said-Avenger would only amount to second if you didn’t have a crush on them even before you met them, she’d think. Pietro would agree.

Natasha tapped her fingers on the counter as Wanda pulled back, and they shared a smile.

“It’ll be our little secret.” whispered Natasha, she did the motion for zipping her lips, and throwing away the key.

Wanda nodded, mimicking her. “Our little secret.” She repeated after.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Yo,” Pietro yells as he comes into the room, clearly restless, he bounces on the soles of his feet and won’t stop moving around, he’s one more energy bar away from moving in super speed for the whole day. His movements tinge with blue sometimes, a step taken too fast, a hand reaching with a blur of blue.

It reminds Wanda of Sparky.

Then she comes to the realization that having Pietro as a twin brother is like having a golden labrador or so. Wanda creates a banana chocolate chip muffin and tosses it to him, which he gladly eats.

See? She even has to feed him and all that.

“Do you want to go for a walk, Pietro?” Wanda asks, amused, a brow raised.

“Yes! Did you read my mind?”

Wanda stares at his stationary bouncing. “...Sure.”

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Hurry up!”

“I’m not even dressed, Piet!” She objects, chuckling. It feels a lot like the sitcoms. Ah, speaking of that. She should tell him that she has the disc finished and ready to be watched someday today, at least.

“Do your magic thingy go go go go!” He hurries.

Wanda has a feeling he’s about to cross the threshold of energy where he starts speaking his words so fast he’s either rapping or merging them all into one, and it’d be a lot easier to know what he was saying when she read his mind rather than when she tried to listen to him.

“TherewasthisreallycoolparkthatIsawandweshouldreallycheckitoutandmaybeIcouldgohigherontheswingthanIeverdidbeforebackinSokovia,ImeanIalreadyhavelongerlegsthanIdidbackthen,so,like,it’spossible,right?don’tyouthinkso?”

“I think you can go high on the swing, yes.” She nods. “Do you even remember the way to this park?”

“NottosaybutIcandefinitelywalkthereandyoucanfollowandit’snotashortwalkbutthat’sokay,right?yeahyou’retheScarletWitch,youdon’tneedshortwalks.”

‘She would certainly like them though’ , Wanda thought. But she didn’t voice her internal monologues. Not even to her overexcited brother. She changed into black crop top with a criss cross tie around midriff, black jeans, black belt, and put her hair up in a ponytail. She wore a red jacket over the outfit---Natasha’s jacket---and put on heeled boots with the outfit.

The two make their way down from the fifth floor and towards the exit. Wanda feels the cold air against her skin; familiar.

Two hours into the walk, Wanda’s pretty sure they’re lost, but Pietro’s coming down from the energy high into a more decent state. Wanda’s explored more parts of New York since going to parties regularly but…even she doesn’t recognize where the fuck they are.

What she does know though is that if Pietro was trying to go south, the mall should not be here.

“I think we’re lost, Piet.”

“No. No, really. I do know where I’m going. I--- well, it should be just--- is there a library nearby?”

Wanda looked around, then, “Do you mean the one with the latin on the sign?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Piet,” Wanda says. “We walked past that an hour ago.”

“We what?”

“We were on the streets, there was a library that I almost went to, and you looked at it and then pulled me by my wrist and went the other way, saying we should find the park first and book searching could go after-”

“YOU LET ME GET LOST?!”

“I didn’t know that’s what you were looking for!!” She replies. “And you just said we WEREN’T lost!”

“Well, Obviously, Wanda. I was LYING.” He grumbled, although it was nothing bad about either himself, or her, just general cursing.

“Think about the library,” Wanda said, calmly, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “And we’ll get there.”

“Is this some ‘have-hope’ bullshit or your powers?”

“I think it’s a combination of both. Have hope on my powers getting us there.”

“That’s a stretch on your play of words and I think you know that.” Pietro said, as he closes his eyes, and projects a vivid, although not clear, the image tries to shift once in a while, she has to focus not only on keeping at the centre of her mind, but on the centre of his.

Wanda makes sure no one is around as usual by scanning around the area for minds, checking for their presence, possible surface thoughts, and there was no one around, some people but no one looking near their direction at all. She doubts they’ll be noticed.

She sees it cover Pietro first, and then she feels the familiar and warm wave of Chaos Magic sweep over her. Then, the next thing she knows, it worked.

Is it technically not quite following her promise to herself of ‘ don’t use new powers you haven’t trained during high stress situations ’? A little bit, but this wasn’t really high stress, and at the very least teleportation was something that she had used before. During a high-stress situation, and a non-high-stress situation.

The only new part was travelling somewhere where Pietro visualised; where he wanted to go rather than her intents. Should that have gone wrong, they might have found themselves in Greece because there’d be a very all-too similar shop  just like so there.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to visit Greece, but if she did, it wouldn’t be like that. They’d be lost in a matter of seconds, with no legal money to buy anything with, magical money might exist but might also not be the most ethical or…acceptable. What money did they use in Egypt anyway?

“Great!” Pietro claps. “Now, we go from the library to…” He pivoted and turned towards the  bench nearby. “Okay, the park will be right there, we just have to follow the trail of stones.”

“Alright.” Wanda cautioned.

They did, eventually, reach a park; the park, hopefully. The one that Pietro had been talking about, most likely. Yes, it seemed, by the smile on his face.

“And so while I was getting food for us at McDonalds, while I was standing in line, there was this cute boy---oh my god he was so handsome . Like total pretty boy, I’m sure---that stood right next to me, and I was so about to crush on him, flirt, and then I see a bi flag pin on his body bag, and I just panic. Because this man, sestra-”

“Thor handsomeness or Loki hotness?” Wanda asks, waving her hand, and a thermos bottle filled with ice coffee just the way she liked it appeared in her hand. She drank as he talked.

“Loki features with Thor handsomeness with like the chiselled jaw and all. He had green eyes, and black hair like Loki, and it was so hot. He was so hot. I was so going to ask him out but our order got called before I finished my pep talk, and when I--- he was gone. It was so sad.” Pietro turned towards her. “Can I have a sandwich? Or two? A sub? Like really long?”

Wanda laughed into her thermos. “Okay, one sub order coming right up.” She shook her head in amusement. She laid her hands out and a wave of scarlet washed over, a 12-inch long sandwich, ham, cheese, bacon, tomatoes, lettuce, all the stuff that he liked. Personally, she would have just went with a cheeseburger but then again, she wasn’t the one with a far-too-fast-to-eat-normally metabolism. “It’s no subway shit but, a sandwich’s a sandwich, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Pietro took it from her hands.

He took a bite from his sandwich, “So, now that we’re at complete safety of not being heard by people who you don’t want us hearing talk about this. Talk.”

“About?” Wanda asked, now eating a PB&J sandwich, regretting that they didn’t pack something to eat before going for the walk.

He tilted his head down and raised his eyebrows.

Ohhhh, them. That.

“Okay, well. In my original timeline, I had a crush on Vision and Natasha the moment I first met them, okay, Natasha a bit…longer, before I even met her. Attraction, mostly. But the real crush, when I first met them; especially at first hear.”

“Hear?”

“Their minds.” She clarified. “Vis’ was so wholesome and pure, but mature. It was comforting and safe. It was almost childish how pure his thoughts were, how good he thought and saw things. And yet how logical. It was such a fascination to me. Ultron tried to tell me it was just… I knew he was wrong. I took comfort in his mind, it was the most… It was like a safe space personified, and I just… It was everything to me, even when I had you, and how could I not fall for him then? The nice looks and personality so did not help.”

“And Natasha?”

“Well, I heard her as soon as I stepped near her, before I did my… That unforgivable act on her.”

“And what did her mind sound like?”

“Melodious,” She said. “Like a favourite song on loop, it’s a little addicting, it’s dark, there are glitches in the melody---stop reaching for your phone---but it’s a soft majestic tune. It’s - it almost speaks of her personality. Elegant, like orchestral music, from a…record with scratches. I’d never heard the hum of someone’s thoughts feel so dark and light, and sound like a song. That was fascinating to me too, enigmatic and beautiful. A different kind of appeal from Vision, but an appeal nonetheless.”

Pietro had this grin to him, that made Wanda feel embarrassed for whatever reason.

“I thought it was unfair someone’s mind could be that…pleasant. PLeasant and exactly to my taste, and yet be so evil and sinful and our enemy .” She scoffed. “What a fucking hypocritic thought that was.”

“Hey, you didn’t know.” He defended. She gave him a look. He sighed. “Alright, I’ll drop it.”

“And I entered her mind, and it was like everything but amplified , and it was so…” She had no words for it. “But I guess my presence in her mind, it had a…a spell attached to it, because of my intent and that’s how the Scarlet Witch works, how witches work. And the worst fear came right to her, to the centre, and all this red light, this dangerous and…ominous kind of beauty just…turned dark, and I left her mind, and the song turned to something broken and I regretted it but I was so proud of it all at the same time.”

She fiddled with her hands. Had that habit since she was young. Been first from anxiety, overthinking and worries. Then it became a thing of staring at her hands, wondering how they’d turned into such a dangerous weapon, and how many people she would hurt with them in the future. Then, it was something she did every time she could feel the fear in other people’s minds because of her, because she’d hurt them. Even if she couldn’t feel their emotions, if she knew she’d hurt someone, if she knew she’d given them reason to fear her, because she’d hurt someone, she stared at her hands and wonder again; how did I become like this?

“I didn’t know…that her worst fear was a memory. I didn’t know I triggered a flashback. I didn’t know I brought her walls down from the inside. But I did. And for the rest of the time, for at least a year, until we sort of made up, or something like it, her mind was like this broken melody that took the flaws, and cracks and glitches that I made happen and put them in as part of the music. And I hated that I thought it was beautiful, because she shouldn’t have had to. She’d already done so, with the Red Room. I shouldn’t have made her have to.”

Pietro purses his lip, she can feel his intent, the purpose of why the next few words will be coming. To avert her from the topic so she doesn’t get lost in her own mind, and drown. He doesn’t know she already has a way of doing that.

“Okay, and back to Vision--?”

“Vision was my refuge.” She answered. “He was…safe, and comfortable, and peaceful. He was a happy place. Full of light, compassion, and - and goodness. And it was intimidating but like a moth to a flame, I could never stop reaching. I’d lived in the darkness for too long, and here he was, here he stood, just, like a personal beam of sunlight in his mind and it was so perfect and loving. His intentions were always pure and sweet, and… It was everything I’d ever wanted. It was what I felt when I saw that look in Papa’s eyes when he looked at Mama.”

Pietro stared at her with something like awe in his eyes. “So Vision was safe, and Natasha was beautiful.”

“Yes. Vision was comforting, and Natasha was enchanting. It’s like the difference between feeling loved and seeing something you love, like art and the wonders of the world; or safety and passion, and it was so different between the two of them. Either way, I was lost in both of them.” She pursed her lips. “Vision loved me, and I loved him, but I could never turn away from Natasha either, and I think that’s…my guiltiest pleasure. I don’t think - despite how much I loved him---and I loved him so much I felt like it gave me the strength to do anything with him by my side---that I…ever gave him my full heart.”

Pietro softened, his shoulders nearly slumped and his eyes were droopy, almost teary, and shining with admiration. “I wish I could have a love like that, sestra.”

Wanda smiled back. “You will,” she said. “I know you will.”

After all, if a monster like her could have that, why wouldn’t someone good and righteous and better like him get to have it too?

The moment was ruined a mere second later when a bird flew by and shat right on Pietro’s shoulder.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Wanda hadn’t been meaning to keep track, but their list of public appearances and therefore impressions on the public weren’t really…doing great.

Number one, in Novi Grad; they were villains

Number two, while shopping; Oh my god they looked like spoiled brats. They bought so much .

Number three, at McDonalds; Pietro bought and ate like 6 burgers, and spent at least 15+ minutes staring at a hot guy on the line.

Number four, at the beach; …nothing need be said for that.

Number five, at the park:

Currently, Pietro had been chasing after a bird for 10 minutes, in normal speed, and Wanda looked like an idiot chasing after her brother.

“ YOU LITTLE SHIT!” He yelled.

“Pietro, stop!!!” She yelled, face heated red in embarrassment as she noticed cameras pointed at them.

The pigeon cooed, almost mockingly.

Wanda could see the very moment that Pietro’s already non-existent patience snapped.

Pietro lunged for the animal, and it turned to him for a second as he fell, then flew. He fell right into a heap of leaves.

Wanda stopped, her arm still outstretched. She let it drop to her side, and then crouched down low. She covered her face. “I don’t know him,” she mumbled, chanted. Hoped someone would hear and believe her.

She did not know him.

Pietro got up. “FUCKING PIGEON!”

She so did not know him.

────━▒ ۞ ▒━────

Wanda got hungry, and surprise surprise, so was Pietro. Although this time, Wanda was not alright with being Pietro’s personal food dispenser. Plus, “existence or not, it’s not good to eat something created with magic too much, it could be bad for you.” and so they’d walked around, trying to find somewhere to find or buy snacks in, or a restaurant.

And yet .

For some fucking reason, that must be really dumb, because no way was there a smart reason for this; they’d been walking for 20 minutes and there wasn’t one store with food or restaurants. There were a lot of bookstores, clothing ships, jewellery shops.

But not a Single. Fucking. Restaurant (or food shop).

Anywhere.

His stomach has grumbled and cried out in hunger at least three times now. Wanda’s stomach hadn’t grumbled once, which was common, considering her stomach rarely ever grumbled.

And yet still, on principle and for sake of the lesson she was trying to teach, Wanda refused to make any snack.

“Is that kid holding a slush?” Pietro asked. “There must be a shop nearby!”

He ran.

Wanda ran with him, twinhood and all that. Then she diverged, as he was heading right for the 7/11 door, she ran right, and headed towards the husky being walked by a lady, pretty, brown hair, brown eyes, long legs, heart-shaped face, nose ring, hair in curls, dark brown skin. Pietro thought that pretty people in America really weren’t running out.

He narrowly avoided colliding with the door and zipped inside.

‘You want anything?’ he asked, knowing she would hear in her own mind.

‘Gatorade and snickers bar?’ Wanda replied.

He hummed to himself, and walked around the shop. He picked up a gatorade, snickers bar, chips, and a few more things + slushie. He got a bag for it, of course, at the counter. And when he left the store, there was a distinct lack of admire the pet and more admire the woman .

The pretty woman he’d briefly noticed, the one walking the dog, she’d stopped now. He thought it would be a short thing. Wanda would pet her dog, they’d compliment said pet a little, and then move on, and Wanda was just waiting for him to exit, but apparently not.

The woman twirled her hair and giggled, even he could tell from afar, and Wanda had this sort of smirk to her face, confident and powerful---and a little bit scary??? It reminded him of all Scarlet Witch stuff---and a rise of her eyebrows that screamed power, and she said something, and the woman blushed---or probably blushed? He assumed she did, but even under clear sunny skies, dark complexions were hard to tell with---and ????

What the fuck was happening????

His jaw dropped, as he watched from a distance.

Then the woman said something, and Wanda said something back, and then they were pulling out their phones and--- was his sister really picking someone up in front of him?!?!?!?!

No, no no nononononononono-- HELL NAH, as Sam would say.

He rushed forward, transferring the second bag into his already occupied hand, and headed right for them. He placed his hand on Wanda’s back as he muttered a quick but not that sincere apology, and pulled her away.

Wanda stared at him in disbelief, and confusion; “What are you doing, Pietro? Don’t be rude! I was talking to her.”

“That’s the problem,” he said. “Literally all you were doing was talking, how the fuck were you picking her up already?”

Wanda straightened, a cocky smirk on her face. She shrugged. “Dunno, just my charm, I guess.” She rose and looked over his shoulder, holding up her phone.

“Text me!! We could talk pets, and stuff!” The woman said.

“Will do, dear!” She grinned.

Pietro shoved her shoulder. “Stop doing that! It’s really awkward! I don’t wanna see my little sister flirt with…anyone.”

“I flirt with people all the time.” Wanda objected.

“No, you stare lovingly and longingly at Vision, and put your foot in your mouth around Natasha. That is not flirting. That is free amusement for me, without propcorn. And they are not strangers. They are…I don’t know, just don’t do that!”

Wanda laughed. “No promises,” she replies.

Pietro steels himself up for a future of seeing people fawn over his little sister more than usual. He gags. Wanda laughs again.

────━▒ ۞ ▒━────

“Are you cheating?!” He asks, his voice a shrill tone, barely a whisper.

“No,” She replies calmly, still playing, still winning, still breaking records, and it is driving him crazy . She’s played a total of three arcade games, with Pietro’s $50 dollar change amount of tokens in a small plastic bag---that miraculously hasn’t yet burst under the weight---and she’s broken records, and won two prizes.

He had to get a separate plastic bag for the amount of tickets she won on the second game.

There was a crowd gathering around them, but that was the usual at this point, so Wanda kept on playing and Pietro kept watching, watching her never die. Eventually, he grew bored and tried to spook her, screaming in her ear as he placed his hands on her shoulder.

Wanda practically jumped, but her hands stayed on the controls, the joystick, and moved it to the right, instantly avoiding a hit that would’ve killed her character. She was playing that galaxy ship game, with the patterns of the monsters and the--- what was it called? He looked over to the top where the name was sprawled out in big letters; Galactica.

She laughed, and stuck her tongue out.

“Look, I’m bored,” he pulled his sleeve down to check the time. “Can you lose already so we can see if you can get me a plushie?”

“Don’t you already have more than me?”

“...Get one for yourself too?” He shrugged.

“I’m getting two.”

“No, that’s not fair.” He argued.

“What do you mean that’s not fair? I’m getting the plushies, and you already have more than me.”

“Yeah, but like it’s not fair. If you’re getting 2, I should get 2.”

“But you already have more than me, I’m just making it even.”

“Yeah, but I’m older than you.”

“What does your age have to do with anything, Piet?”

“I dunno, I own you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Okay, that came out wrong. I mean like, I’m your superior--”

“Mh…”

“Shush. I am. So like, you do what I say. And I’m telling you, 2 for you and 1 for me is not fair.”

“Okay, so I get 2 for you, and 3 for me.”

“That’s even worse.”

“You can get your third one by yourself you have the bag of tokens.”

“Okay, fine. I will. I’ll get 4!”

“You don’t have the hands or abilities to carry 4, but fine. I’ll get 5.”

“I’ll get 6!”

“I’ll get 7! And I’d love to see you try.”

“Watch me!” Lose already and let’s do this.”

He watched her stop, attempting to die in not dodging any hits the enemy ships sent back, and yet she did not. Her character ship stayed alive. He marvelled, and pushed her aside, shoving her by pushing her hip with his. The moment her hands let go of the controls and he took hold, the character ship died.

Wanda covered her mouth and turned to the side.

“Do not say anything-”

“-I’m not saying anything.”

“You were going to.”

“I was not.”

“You were so going to.”

Wanda stayed silent, and as they left the game, parting through the crowd that stared at his sister in awe, she giggled. “I was going to.” She confirmed.

“See? Such a liar sometimes.”

“Why, thank you.” She stopped in front of the crane game. She reached a hand out, palm open, and Pietro dropped 5 tokens into her hand.

She started the game, and moved towards the---oh, oh damn, they had Avengers plushies here!!!---Captain America one.

Eventually, she finished with 5 plushies for him, and 7 for herself.

He had Captain America, Falcon, War Machine, Hawkeye, Hulk

She had Black Widow, Vision, Hulk, Falcon, Thor, Captain America, and Hawkeye.

He was pretty sure that he saw somewhere in an article either scrolled past on his phone, or walked past on a newspaper that it was mentioned that their stuffies---her with red mist around her hands, and him with blue lightning around him---were still unreleased, but soon, it would be out worldwide in a mass release.

Then she backed off. “Come on,” she said. “Get your two plushies.”

Pietro glared. “Watch me. I’ll get three.”

Pietro, did in fact, not get three. He wasted the whole bag of tokens and finished with one plushie; an Iron-Man plushie. He’d been trying to get a Black Widow plushie.

He went home with 6, and Wanda gleefully went home with 7, and an Avengers themed bracelet for the tickets she earned. It was really just a bracelet with charms on it, for each of the Avengers. Wanda had surprisingly enough, decided to let the Iron-Man charm stay on.

Neither mentioned it though, but Wanda did do the nice thing and not deprive Pietro of the fun of seeing her drag her magic-covered nail down the Iron Man charm, cutting a sort of scar through the Iron Man.

“That makes up for me not seeing Tony with a bruise for two week.” He said. Then an idea came to mind, “Why don’t we go back and see how long your luck can last.” He took her hand and began to pull her away from the arcade, outside the building, and out the streets.

“What’d you mean?” She asked, following him easily. Her reflexes matched well, reacting as fast as she needed to to keep up with him and his speed. He sometimes moved too fast, forgot that not everyone---especially Wanda---moved at the speed he moved in.

She’d perfected it in the future, it seemed, because she wasn’t stumbling over her feet, nearly chasing him to keep up, the moment he started moving in faster speed, like he was running with every action he did.

He had an inkling, twin connection, or his knowledge of her, and her future, that it was definitely not because of him, or her powers (a little bit, but not the main thing); it was because of her kid. Tommy Maximoff. His future niece.

(He was sure that this time, he’d be the uncle that would meet them, not  a fake him that probably looked nowhere as good as him.)

She’d told him that he had the same powers as Pietro. And a kid with his powers? Absolutely no way was he not running around every second, and Wanda was a good mother. Even from a young age, even before their parents’ demise, she’d always wanted to take care of things. It’d been one of her dreams, because Wanda had always wanted the simpler things in life, she didn’t want fame, or power, or wealth; she didn’t want what those with what she had wished for. She wished for family, as happy as her parents were, and she wished for a better life.

The white picket fence sort of life.

And a good parent would always know how to react faster than their kid, to make sure they didn’t get in trouble. He should know, his father had never been the fastest, he liked to focus on strength, so he could carry the both of them on his shoulders no matter how old they got. But when he showed to have an affinity and a liking for speed, as well as a penchant for trouble, then he worked on his speed.

And soon, he was one of the only adults around, one of the only people around---Wanda aside---that could keep up with him when he was running and rushing around causing trouble. He never liked speed, but for his son? He would learn what he didn’t like, because good parents pout their children first before themselves. And that’s what their parents did. That’s what she khe knew that she did.

Because Wanda was nothing if not a good parent.

“Pietro, stop thinking about me being a mom!” Wanda said, and he remembered that he was still running through the streets of New York, her wrist in his grip, and he was pretty sure he was one more push or focus away from running at super speed. “What do you mean test my luck? Are you taking me to a casino?! That would be a horrible use of my luck when we could just drain Tony’s account!”

“That’s what we’re gonna do, sestra!”

“What?! No! Let go of me, I am not going into a casino! Do you see how we’re dressed?! We’d probably look like hobos compared to the people there!”

“No, I mean-” He stopped, and he let go of her. She leaned over, hands on her knees, and panted. He felt a little guilty. “-Sorry. I mean, that we’re gonna drain Tony’s account. He likes to gamble, he likes to play, we have a set of cards in our room. We could get anything from him. We could get his prized car!”

“You don’t know how to drive, and I drive like how I live; with a death wish.” She replied. “What the fuck would we do with his car?”

“Crash it!”

“Crash it?”

“Crash it.”

“What about the dangers?”

“You’re the Scarlet Witch, you’d really let a car crash take you out?”

“No, you dolt, I mean you. What if you get hurt? I did not time travel after possible death, save your life, and keep you alive just for you to undo all my efforts because you want to piss off Stark.”

“I could run out before the car crashes, and even take you with me. If I’m too late, and I do get hurt. You can do that healing thingy, can’t you? You healed my paper-cut last night.”

“Too dangerous, think of something else.” She replied. Buzzkill. “I heard that.”

“Yeah, well it was meant to be heard; buzzkill.” Pietro narrowed his eyes, glaring playfully. “What’s something that’d be important to him in the future that he doesn’t really have right now, or isn’t aware will be important to him, even though he has it.”

“Peter Parker a.k.a. Spiderman.” She said. “He thought about it like at least 7 times the moment I came back to the battlefield. I didn’t really hear it the first three times, but when someone screams the same thoughts at you during a battle, it doesn’t matter how distracted you are,  fighting for your life, you hear their thoughts eventually.”

“Sestra, are you suggesting that we gamble for a person’s life?”

“No…but you asked what he has that he isn’t aware will be important to him.”

“Ah, right. Well, aside from Peter.”

“Pepper.”

“STOP IT WITH THE PEOPLE!!!”

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE DOESN’T APPRECIATE A LOT OF PEOPLE IN HIS LIFE! WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?!”

“WHY ARE YOU ?!”

“YOU STARTED IT!”

“YEAH BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN SCREAM BACK!”

People turned to stare. Wanda smacked the back of his head. “Shut up!” A tinge of red covered her cheeks.

“Sorry, anyway. No people. What does he have that he doesn’t know would be important.” Pietro asked.

“...Pepper recently gave him a good luck charm.” Wanda started.

“What about it?” He furrowed his brows.

“Well, it might not be important, but we could make it.” She suggested.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a good luck charm, if I really am lucky, then I could win it.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And then we could make him think he’s suddenly unlucky without it?”

“That’d be fun, but that’s a really long-con.”

“You like long cons.”

“Yeah, but I’m looking for something that’ll just immediately make him annoyed or something. Or like within the day.”

“We have him lay down his pride and his money?”

“What’s the money for? We already have it.”

“Well, we can’t let him know that it’s his ego we’re trying to hurt.”

“Right. So what’s our plan?”

“We come in, play with the Avengers, Tony should eventually come down today, he’s been complaining about the lack of snacks in his workplace.” Wanda said.

“Right, yeah, and once he comes down, we just… We challenge him. I’ll challenge him to win against you. You beat him, and we come away happy and richer?”

“Perfect.” Wanda nodded.

They entered the Avengers compound.

────━▒ ۞ ▒━────

“Tony. Yo, Tony. Come here.” Sam beckoned.

Tony had bags under his eyes, his hair was more of a mess than usual, and he looked as sleep-deprived as Wanda should have after that Month ™, as Pietro called it. He turned, making a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a hum, as he turned towards them, a sloppily made sandwich in his hand.

“What’sup?” He asked, naturally slurring his words. Exhaustion, she deduced, based on how murky and muddy his thoughts seemed.

“Little Maximoff-” really? “-here hasn’t lost a round of games in a crazy amount of time and rounds.”

“Just 28 minutes, and 6 rounds overall of 3 different games, Mr. Wilson.” corrects F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“What games have they played, FRIDAY?” Tony asks.

“Poker, 5-card-draw, and Uno.”

“What were the odds?”

“Wanda won after her first hand, twice, with a Royal Flush, and another round with Two-pair. Won 5-card-draw almost a minute in twice, and they’ve been playing Uno once, but Wanda won against Steve, and made him take 4 cards before she played Uno.”

“Brutal.” He said. “Any signs of cheating?”

“None.”

“Nothing? What about use of powers?”

“None has been detected.”

“Really?” He asks, looking up for a second, then back down. “No red wiggly-woos?”

“None, sir.”

“Hm,” He grins. “Let’s see how long  your streak can last.”

Wanda and Pietro share a look, a small smile. He’s not by her side or behind her anymore, after Sam accused Wanda of cheating using him, and his super-speed. Then later, Steve implied ---he would never be so rude as to accuse Wanda. Accuse Tony and Sam? Yeah, but accuse a lady? He was old-fashioned that way---that she was doing it when Pietro stood behind him. Which made a lot more sense than Sam’s claim.

So now he was stood next to Vision, unable to get a view of anyone’s cards, and they’d resumed just a few minutes ago after their ‘interrogation’ of “you’re sure you’re not reading anyone’s mind” “You’re sure you’re not reading mine?” “Do you swear?” questions. Wanda really wasn’t, though. It was easy enough to win without doing it. She was just on a real luck streak.

Plus, she was pretty sure that she would have very much regretted it had she tried that with Sam, because she could feel a certain pattern with his thoughts---projected memories---and with the emotions he was feeling, he was pretty sure it was memories he was projecting to check she wasn’t reading his mind, because otherwise she’d react strongly.

And…yeah, no. She wasn’t risking that for a card game.

He gave Steve the same advice, so early on, he’d been projecting too, but he was a lot more trusting than Sam, so his thoughts had stropped the moment their ‘interrogation’ questions did.

Tony crosses his arms.

“Alright,” she agreed. “Let me just finish this round.”

“Wait, what-?” Steve starts. He doesn’t finish completely, because Wanda starts placing down her cards.

Natasha walks back in---she was there for the start of the games, but she’d gotten up all of a sudden nearing the end of the 5-cards-draw games, and declared she was going to make herself a drink---with a mug in hand. “Little witch still winning?"

She places down a +4 card, a reverse card, a switch-to-yellow card, a yellow-9 card, a blue-9 card, a blue-6 card, a switch-to-red card, a red-3 card, a reverse card, and then her last card---“Uno.”---a +4 card.

Steve’s jaw drops. Pietro doubles over laughing. Natasha coughs behind her hand to hide either laughter, or she choked on her drink whilst laughing, either way, she was laughing. Wanda knows; she’s seen that hint of a smile in Natasha’s eyes, often looked for it whenever Natasha was upset, and she was trying to cheer her up---in her past life, in the other time.

Still, certain traits carry through time, and Wanda’s glad that the look in Natasha’s eyes is something she can still find and see  if she looks hard enough (which she rarely has to do, it’s like an instinct at this point, to see Natasha’s moods through the small changes in her expression or behaviour.)

Steve grumbles, nearly glares, and then takes 8 cards. And drops all his cards. “My loss.”

“--Again.” Sam adds, as if he didn’t lose more times than Steve did. Steve only played and lost twice. Sam lost the other 4 times that they played.

“Scoot over, popsicle. I’ll show you how it’s done.” says Tony. “Let’s do this. Do you know how to play poker, Sabrina?”

“Yes,” She answers.

No one ever taught her. And Pietro refused to play Poker or learn it back in Sokovia, because he always said it was the easiest way to get sucked into being a gambler. But in her other life, Natasha taught her, said it was a good way to train your expressions to give away nothing. But Wanda was pretty sure that Natasha just taught her so she could get her mind off of Pietro and the Raft.

“But we already played that, let’s play something different.”

“Okay then. Let’s do something simple; blackjack.”

Wanda nods.

They make Natasha their dealer; she’s the only neutral one in the room.

“What’re the bets?” Natasha asks, as she shuffles the cards. She does a cool trick with them, and for a moment, she’s too busy staring at Natasha’s hands to realize she even said something, but then Tony does, and she catches up.

Tony pulls out his wallet, places down two $100 dollar bills. Wanda doesn’t really know what to bet, so she waved Pietro over. He crossed the short distance towards her, and she reaches into the pocket in his hoodie---a look of confusion twists his expression; he doesn’t have anything in his pocket. They both know that---and she uses her magic to create a $100 dollar bill.

Takes it out and places it down beside Tony’s bet.

Pietro realizes his role as human wallet/cover and snickers behind his hand. It’s not really funny, but to each their own she supposes.

Natasha hands out the cards. Wanda stares at her. Then turns to her cards.

A queen (10) and an ace (11). Math isn’t her favourite subject, but she knows that’s 21 already.

Tony calls “Stand.” He places down his card with a smirk on his face, and he reveals a 19. He was right not to risk that. But.

She places her cards down.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sam exclaims. “RIGHT AT THE START?!”

Sam turns to Natasha who shrugs with an amused smile pulling at her red lips.

Vision smiles from behind her.

She doesn’t see.

Sometimes, there are moments in which Wanda, who knows Natasha is pretty, just can’t wrap her head around how beautiful she is sometimes. Moments in which she just stops and stares--- admires . The way her green eyes shine with mirth, it’s so much prettier than anything else Wanda has seen, and the small smile-lines appearing on her face when her lips pull up into a small smile, not because she’s shy like Wanda sometimes, but because she’s confident and she doesn’t need to show her expression unless she wants to. And her cheekbones, the way they rise slightly with her smile, and how her lips part to pull a corner of her lip even more, changing her smile into a smirk.

And then her brows rise up, and a laugh tumbles out of her mouth, and Wanda feels a force wrap around her heart. Because how is it fair that someone can be that beautiful? Isn’t that just so unfair to everyone else in the world that someone as amazing as Natasha, with such a kind heart, and a perfect everything, has this beauty to her too that--- well, how could anyone else ever compare?

It really is just so unfair, that’s what Wanda thinks, every time she’s taken aback by how breathtaking Natasha is in simple moments.

Then someone smacks her on the back of her head.

“Jesus christ, what?!” She snaps.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention like 5 minutes, get your head out the closet, sestra. What’s your bet?”

“O- oh . Sorry.” She takes Tony’s $200, and gives back the magically-made $100 to Pietro, who pockets it. She undoes the creation on the back of her mind. “There.” she says.

Tony seems to take this as a challenge, and puts down $400.

Double her bet.

Wanda knows it’ll be easy to get Tony into their trap. As easy as it was for him to create what he fears. Like Ultron, all over again…hopefully less deadly.

She gets an A (1 or 11) and a 8. A 19. She decides to let it be, it is after all, a testing of her luck.

Tony calls for another card. Then he calls “Stand.”

He places down a 18. Wanda wins by one. Tony curses. Wanda takes his money, and places it beside her bet. She makes sure not to stare at Natasha and get distracted again.

She adds his former bet into her current; she bets $600. He places double her bets again; $1,200 dollars. It must be nice, she thinks, to be rich.

The next round, she gets a Jack (10) and a 7. He calls for a Stand. He curses, again, and places down a 24---a bust---and she sees that the third card, placed on the left; a 6. He would have won by one point, if he hadn’t called for a hit. She watches as he scans over her cards, and comes to the same realization.

She gets a card of Ace (1/11) and 2. 13 in total. She calls for a hit. He smiles as Natasha hands her another card. Must be smug. She gets a Jack (10), making a total of 13. Again. She calls for another. She gets a 2. She decides she doesn’t want to risk it, luck or not.

He calls for a card. Gets 22. She wins because he was one point over 21. His cards before the hit was a 13---a King (10) and a 3---as well, and wasn’t that just so lucky of her? Of course Tony would risk what she wouldn’t. He had a life like that, where he’d have less to lose every time, so carelessness and risks were fun and find. She, however, was raised with nothing. She wouldn’t risk that.

Then she cringes when she realizes she was getting philosophical over their different upbringings for no reason. For a game of cards. Eugh.

Tony narrows his eyes. She adds his bet onto hers, 600 + 1,200. She bets $1,800. Tony bets $3,600. He doesn’t have the cash to actually do it right now, but he states his bet and they all know he can pay. They’re gonna get to the ego crushing sooner than she thought.

The same thing happens, except this time she has 17, and he had 15 before he called for a card, and got 22.

The next round, when the bets are Wanda’s $5,400 and his $10,800. She feels almost giddy. This is the easiest way she’s ever earned $15k. And legal. Considering she could make millions, and gold bars, and all sorts of wealth with a a wave of her hand. But that would probably cause some sort of inflation or something or damage the current economy. And also magical money was a little bit unethical. So Tony handing over his money? Great.

“You can cheat, you know.” Pietro says, mocking him. It’s his real role, why he stayed in the room. Wanda can’t mock Tony without making anything seem obvious---or something, she assumes---but Pietro could. Pietro was her biggest ‘cheerleader’, and of course he would mock Tony Stark when he was losing to his little sister. “If you think you can’t win, go ahead and cheat.”

Tony glares at him.

The next round, he takes a hit, and gets 23. Wanda, who remained with her cards, won with a 16.

He bets $32,400 against her not-there-in-cash $16,200. What she does have in cash though ($1,800), she gives to Pietro.

She gets her cards; two Kings (10+10 = 20) He calls for a hit, then again, an d again. Then curses and places his cards down.

He started with an… 11, then a 15, and then a 23. That was kind of sad.

Tony purses his lips in annoyance, and turns to Natasha. “The next card’s an ace, isn’t it?” He guesses, talking to Natashaa.

Natasha shrugs, pulls up the card. It’s an ace. And to think, she was going to ask for a hit before Tony placed down his cards.

“You were going to ask for a hit before I lost, weren’t you?”

Wanda blinks, startled. Did he just read her mind? No, that was her thing. Still, she nods.

Tony nods, looking pissed off now. His ego must be hurt. Pietro was right; this is fun.

“Alright, wiggly woos.” He says, “You want to play? Let’s play.”

Kind of cringy, considering they already were playing, but---whatever got him in the mood to keep putting his pride on the line.

He calls Natasha over, finger curling. Wanda purses her lips and furrows her brow, tilts her head quickly, and scrunches her nose---Pietro calls it her ‘confused face; quick edition’.

They make their bets. Wanda has $48,600 on the line, and Tony puts $97,200 as his bet.

Natasha hands out the cards, she has a 9 and 2. 11 in total. She calls for a hit. Gets a 3. 14 in total. Tony calls for a hit. Smiles. She calls for a hit. “Of course,” speaks Natasha. Wanda grows tense, for some reason. “Here, kotenok .”

Wanda nearly dies .

She gets a King (10).

24 in total.

Did she just lose?

She places her cards down, surprised.

Tony laughs. “I knew it!” He exclaims.

Wanda turns to him, with a brow raised, tilting her head up, lips still pursed. She can feel the familiarity of the expression; she’s worn it on WestView, during WandaVision, and, she thinks, when she was cooking with Vision “Know what?” She asks, her tone low.

“All I needed was to distract you.” Tony shows his cards. A neat 20, a Jack and a King.

That’s what he whispered to Natasha? To say kitten to her

She’s not sure if she’s irritated or impressed.

Then he tosses his card down, and from underneath the Jack, comes an 8, stuck to the back of the Jack from fiction, she assumes.

She laughs. That’s a 28, right there. And he either loses or calls the round a faulty one and they go again. Good strategy, but apparently, her luck was better. She wins the redo round.

After the redo round. When Tony bets $291,600 against her $145,800 and loses with a 21 at first hand, just like the first round. He tries one last time, says it himself (“One last round, and then we’re done. One last round.”). She bets $437,400, all the money she’s won so far, and he bets $874,800.

He loses. Wanda gets 20, calls for a hit, and gets a 21. He presents his 20 combo proudly, and she shows him her 21.

After Wanda’s earned---she adds inside her head, does mental math---$1,312,200 dollars, and they all watch as Tony transfers the amount into her account. Her personal account, because they all have that after her insistence (“What if we’re in an sort of prank war with Tony? He has access to our money. He literally acts worse than Pietro with pranks sometimes.”), which they easily agreed to, everyone made a separate and individual, personal, account for themselves.

Wanda really only insisted knowing her fate during the Accords dispute, knowing Tony not only cut her off the moment they ran, but took away her measly $1000, given to her by Natasha for her birthday, because she didn’t know what else to get Wanda, but wanted her to have money to get something for herself.

Money that wasn’t Stark’s, because Natasha understood , that no matter how much Tony gave her to try to compensate for what he’d done, what he’d caused to happen in her mind back then, she wouldn’t use it. Would starve long before she’d dare use his money. Natasha always understood her better than the others. Just like Vision.

They clean up the cards, and all head to their rooms, a buzz in everyone’s minds, wonder, and joy at the forefront, as they thought about Wanda’s luck, the games they played. How she made $1.3 million from $100 dollars, in a game of Blackjack. Wanda feels the idea in Steve’s head forming of a daily game night. They started it a little later in her time, but she’s glad that she hurried that along.

The Avengers loved game nights.

She loved game nights (on the rare days she would come out of her room long enough to play anything).

Pietro would love game nights too.

The twins return to their room, and splits the money. Wanda takes $656,101, and Pietro takes $656,099. A dollar bonus for being the one who actually played the games, Pietro insisted.

When Wanda lays her head on her pillow, the memory of Natasha calling her kotenok , in that raspy and low tone of hers stays inside her head, and she goes to sleep blushing, with a smile on her face.

────━▒ ۞ ▒━────

“Hey,” Wanda greeted as she laid down on her bed, her back against the woodrest, and a book open in her hands. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

The speedster hummed in question as he put on a shirt. He pulled hit over his head and turned towards her. “Yeah?” Instinctual brotherly…instincts made born in him an urge ask if she’d done something and reassure her it was fine because he had a shovel---found a shovel in the storage room of the Avengers’ stuff and shit---but then he remembered if she did commit murder, she could mor ethan easily hide the body without his help. “What up?”

A somewhat horrified look appeared on his sister’s face. “Not murder.” She reassured. “The WandaVision disc; it’s done. If you wanna watch it-”

“YES!” He cheered, exclaimed, yelled. “ABSOLUTELY YES! PUT IT ON!”

“Jesus christ, okay.” Wanda laughed. Wanda moved her hand, lifting her wrist and her hand was surrounded by scarlet almost immediately. The drawer beside her side of the bed opened, and out came a disc in a plain and blank disc case, then entered into the disc insert, the TV turning on right after.

The show started.

Pietro laid by the edge of the bed.

It started with the black and white retro version and a car driving into WestView, Pietro watched with interest. Didn’t see his sister’s expression behind him.

A theme song;

🎶Ohhhh- Ohhhh, A newlywed couple just moved to town. A regular husband and wifeeee.🎶

Wanda was in a wedding dress, veil and all, but out of her face, and Vision was at the wheel. The mailman waved at them.

🎶Who let the big city to find a quiet life.🎶

Wanda pointed, pursed lips and all, and the ‘For Sale’ sign changed, a ‘Sold’ sticker slapped onto it.

“Magic? This early?”

Wanda doesn’t reply, and Pietro thinks that’s her way of telling him to shut up and just keep watching.

🎶WandaVision!🎶

Vision carried her, holding her in his arms in a true wedding carry and walked to the door. He phased through, dropping Wanda, although she fell gently. Wanda shook her head in clear disappointment, arms crossed.

Pietro thought it was funny.

Vision was seen inside the house, staring at his arms, mouth open, wondering where Wanda was.

🎶She’s a magical gal in a small-town locale.🎶

Vision opens the door. Wanda shakes her head fondly at him. He picks her up again.

🎶He’s a hubby, who’s part machine!🎶

Vision paused, then phased through a chair, Wanda managing to remain in his arms this time.

🎶How are they gonna fit in and fulfill all?🎶

The words; STARRING; WANDA MAXIMOFF were wide on the screen. AND VISION.

🎶By sharing a love, like you’ve never seen; WANDA VISION!!!🎶

The intro ended with the couple sitting on the couch.

Pietro watched as the show really started, Wanda using her magic to lift plates and do dishes, dressed like a housewife in the 50s. And she was pulling it off.

He thought smugly back to the old bullies, before 10 and after 10, that used to pick on Wanda and say they were prettier or something like that , but who was prettier now, bitches?

The woman on the TV with her own show, rocking a 50s housewife sort of look, and modern independent I-own-up-to-my-sexuality woman, and mystical queen look? 

Yeah. His sister.

He told them they were losers and they wouldn’t do anything better with their lives than what he and Wanda would do to their lives. And he was right .

“Are you really bragging about our success to bullies in our pasts?”

“Yeah, and?”

“We fight villains and criminals for a living, Pietro. Bullies are nothing.”

“Exactly! That’s what I said!”

Wanda sighed, but fondly, amused.

“My wife and her flying saucers”

“My husband and his indestructible head.”

Wanda grimaced immediately. Pietro was confused why for just a second, but he did after all, have the faster brain workings between the two of them, and quickly remembered just how Vision died.

He turned to the TV and they both went silent, watching in awkwardness and comfortableness.

“I’d say, I don’t eat food!”

“Well, that explains the empty refrigerator.”

“Nose scrunch!” Pietro called out. “You look cute!”

Wanda did it right after, by habit, scrunching her nose as she smiled. “Thank you, Piet.”

Pietro smiled back at her, then turned to the TV.

He laughed at the way Vision and Wanda bantered, and skirted around the topic of what was special about the particular day, the way they both tried to pretend they knew what the event was.

He could see why they were a good couple.

He felt awful she’d been robbed of it.

He focused back to the screen, and his jaw dropped--- “He has a HUMAN version?!” He exclaimed. “And he’s attractive and hot???!!!”

Wanda stretched out her leg and kicked the back of his head lightly. “Careful,” she said. “That’s my husband, and I’m a very jealous woman.”

“Oh, I know.” He mumbled. For someone so patient and open-minded, and prone to crushing on women outside of her hetero relationships, she was possessive , almost controlling, very much lightly clingy and definitely a jealous lover.

He thinks it’s because she’s rarely ever gotten to call anything hers, and because she loves with all her heart, she expects their love to return and be hers only as well.

(It’s why he hated Frances so much, her other exes were decent, still disliked them, but they hadn’t betrayed her heart. They knew her worth and treated her accordingly. Frances did not. Frances got something far past his league and abused her heart, by cheating on such a special day.)

A woman knocked on the door.

“Who’s that?” He asked.

“Give it a second,” Wanda said with that exasperated-but-used-to-it, almost fond sort of look.

“Hello, dear.” Dear? “I’m Agnes, your neighbour to the right. My right, not yours.”

That name sounded familiar; Agnes… Agnes… Ag… Aga… Agatha!

“That’s Agatha?!”

“Yeah.” Wanda said, flipping a page in her book.

“She looks nice.”

“She was, until she wasn’t.”

Pietro glared at the other witch through the TV.

“Why did she call you dear? Isn’t it the first time you’ve met?”

“...It’s her way of speech,” said Wanda, obviously covering something up. “...With me.”

“She was flirting?”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, I thought I told you this before.”

Well, he wasn’t sure about her telling him before, but he did remember almost asking who Agatha was and if she was an ex based on the context of what he accidentally glimpsed when his hand brushed against her skin. Although she’d literally told him who she was beforehand.

Then the memory came to him.

( “In fact, in WandaVision, Agatha—Agnes, at the time, who was my ‘nosey neighbour’—flirted with me far more than he ever did, even in front of my children, and in front of fake you. She didn’t really try to hide her attempts to check me out blatantly in front of everyone, and often hinted that I should initiate some sort of touch between us, even after she revealed herself. There were also the moments when she got bolder, kissing my cheek from behind in front of my husband, though only off-camera.”)

“You said the affections were off-camera. So, I won’t see?”

“No, you will.” reassured Wanda. “This is, after all, my version. Everything that happened in the Hex, that should go in the show. Even certain behind-the-scenes. Not just what I put in the original show. Which is what I think Darcy watched.”

“Darcy watched it?”

“Hired by S.W.O.R.D., but don’t worry. She was very nice to me. Her and Monica, even if I wasn’t nice to them back. Stayed my fangirl till the end.”

“Marry her.” He said.

“No.” She replied.

“Did you just guess your anniversary?” He asked, hearing TV-Wanda on the screen, as she talked to TV-Agatha.

“To be fair--” Wanda paused. “Yeah, I got nothing. It was a comedy---is---or, was supposed to be. It’s a sitcom, after all. I guess.”

“No, you guessed your anniversary.”

“Yeah,” Wanda sighed. “I guessed.”

As Wanda sat down, Agatha reached out, and Wanda hesitantly---but not too hesitantly that it was obvious to people who didn’t know his sister---reached back and held her hands.

“Oh, she’s really touchy, isn’t she?”

“I told you.”

“A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but, it’s still fun to set the scene.”

Wanda’s cheeks go blazing red, a mixture of embarrassment and whatever-emotion-made-people-who-were-flirted-with blush.

“Oh, she is not trying to hide anything.”

“No, no she was not.” Wanda replied, setting down the book---How to Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone---and looking straight at the TV. “I remember the twins asking if Viz and I were in an open relationship, and she was their…second…mother.”

Pietro laughs before he can control it. “They did?” He tries to confirm. She nods. “What did you say?”

“I told them that--ahem, well,-” she entered a different tone of voice, one much more like their mother, motherly and mature, and obviously trying to figure her words out as the sentence continued. “-‘Mommy has a tendency to…fancy other women, outside of their father, but Mommy would never act on it because their father--- Dad is…is who has her heart. So, no, we--- Dad and Mommy aren’t in an open relationship. Agnes is just a nice friend.’ is what I said.”

“And what’d they say?”

“Well, Billy’s an absolute angel, so he accepted the answer as is.”

He grins. Tommy was the one more like him, wasn’t he?

“And what did Tommy say?”

“He said, and I quote, because you somehow got your claws into him and influenced him, even when you weren’t there; ‘Are you sure, Mommy? I think she wants to be more than friends. And… It’s not like polyamory is new. Also, it might get her to finally stop checking you out in front of us, it’s really uncomfortable.’ , and I swear to god , I was about to hunt down fake you and ask if he told Tommy anything about polyamory.”

Pietro laughed, clutching his stomach. His body trembled with the force of laughter coming from his lungs, and he wheezed as the air began o run out, but his laughter had not finished.

Wanda threw a light scarlet wisp towards his head, that felt like a smack to the head. Her wrist flicking.

“You’re like a walking computer!”

“What? I most certainly am not. I’m a regular carbon-based employee made entirely of organic matter, much like yourself, Norm .”

Pietro turned to the TV, wiping the corner of his eyes. “Your husband’s funny too.” He commented. “But seriously, if he hadn’t been a glorified toaster, and your husband, I might have hit on him, in his human form.”

“Piet,” Wanda objected, her words carried with a laugh.

“I mean I’m not saying he’s exactly my type, but I am saying I do have eyes.”

“Piet,” she repeated in that same laughing amused tone, and leaned forward to hit a pillow on his head. He laughed back.

“Okay, okay fine, I’ll be nice. You can keep your husband. I’ll stay fabulously single, available to everyone to screw.”

“Fabulously?” Wanda laughed. “Where did you learn that word?”

“Sam.”

“Ah,” she said. “Of course.” Then--- “Oh, and he said to stop using emojis like pictographs, he gets so confused.”

Pietro grinned, mischievous and pleased. “I know .”

Wanda laughed again, but this time, just pulling the pillow close to her chest, her book closed and on the desk beside her.

“No skeletons in your closet, eh, Vision?”

“...I don’t have a skeleton, sir.”

“You guys ace this even when you mess up and that guy---Jones---he got fired or like, no reason, didn’t he? Noooo!!” He whined. “Un-fire Jones. He sounds like he put on a great dinner! That’s so not fair!”

Again, he didn’t notice his sister’s expression behind him, didn’t turn to see this time, missed it again.

Agnes came in as Wanda read a magazine, completely occupied with what she was reading. Then she snuck, a silent step once, twice, thrice, exaggerated, pressing her lips towards the camera.

Then she placed her hands on Wanda’s shoulders, making the title character jump in her seat. Wanda pressed a hand against her chest, “Oh, dear, Agnes! You scared the living heebeegeebees out of me!”

Agnes smiled, laughing, and pressed her lips against Wanda’s cheeks, both of theme, before the redhead could respond, and smiled. “Well, of course I did, sweetie! That’s the point of a surprise, you know?”

Wanda laughed nervously, as Agnes walked around the couch to sit beside her. She placed down a few other magazines, and picked one up, but instead of opening it up to read, she placed it down on her lap, and leaned closer, a hand on Wanda’s lap, trying to read what she was reading.

Wanda awkwardly leaned back just slightly.

Agnes leaned back, to read, but her hand remained on Wanda’s thigh. Wanda looked down at her hand, and at Agnes, then shrugged almost exaggeratedly, and kept reading.

“This made it to the real show or not?”

“Didn’t.”

Eventually, after a few minutes, Agatha removed her hand, and turned her page. She moved back, when she replaced a magazine, and when she spoke, they were at an appropriate distance, as if the first few minutes had not happened.

“And you don’t have a song?” Agnes asked.

Pietro snickered. “Should’ve kept that in. That was gay gold.”

“Piet!”

“Shutting up!” He replied knowingly.

“What about seduction techniques?”

“Oh, I have those.” 50s Wanda said.

“Natasha and past lovers can attest to that.” He mumbled.

“Piet-”

He did the motion for zipping his lips close.

“Of course, you do!” Agnes chuckled.

“That sounds gay.”

“Does it?”

“Oh absolutely.”

50s Wanda’s face visibly fell, as if in concern on whether or not she had seduction techniques.

‘What good acting’ , Pietro thought, ‘As if she doesn’t know she does.’

“Just out of curiosity, what does it say?”

The darker haired woman looked up. “That you should stumble when you walk into a room so he can catch you.” Agatha read. “It’s romantic.”

Wanda waved her hand in a gesture. “Any other tricks?”

“You could point out that th e death rate of single men is twice that of married men.” Agatha said.

Pietro laughed, “I agree with her, you should do that!”

“Now, that’s romantic.” said 50s Wanda, leaning towards Agatha. Agatha laughed with her, placing her hand on Wanda’s wrist, although just for a second, as if to seek skin contact no matter how short.

Pietro laughed. Good to know his sister still had similar humour even after years. Then again, he did know that, didn’t he? His sister-after-years was right there behind him and they still got along like they’d never been separated.

Although, they really hadn’t, thanks to her.

He heard Wanda wince.

“Papercut?” He asked, without turning.

“Mhm,” she replied. “It’s fine now.”

“Vis, after all this time…” 50s Wanda said, with a smile, eyes shining with adoration, flatteredness, and all doe-eyed love, wrapping an arm around her stomach.

Camera briefly panned to Agnes who watched Wanda with an interested smile, resting her head on her palm.

Although with further context, that was probably Agatha the Witch trying to figure Wanda out.

“...same page.”

“Misunderstanding trope?”

“Trope?”

“I mean the usual sitcom…thing.”

“Ah, well… Yes, I suppose.” Wanda replied. Book open in her hands again. He didn’t know when she’d opened it.

“Is your husband tired of you burning his toast? Try our new and improved ToastMate 2000. It’s the go-to for clever housewives.”

“Say, this machine has some shine.”

“You said it. Set the dial and get the taste back in your toast.”

“Was that--?”

“I think I always knew you would call my husband a toaster.” Wanda replied, both confirming, and joking. Pietro laughed. He was never as big a fan of sitcoms as Wanda was, but if it was her sitcom he was forced to watch for all of eternity? He would do so gladly.

It was funny, after all.

 “And it was a reference to me turning back the time, a bit.” She said, guilt laced into her tone. “Bringing life to him.”

“Oh…” Pietro remembered, funny as this was, this sitcom came from a place of absolute pain. “Right.”

“The all new ToastMate 2000 by Stark Industries.”

“Ew.”

“Forget the past. This is your future.”

Even Pietro could see the message there. He reached his hand behind him blindly, finding her ankle---distance was bigger than he thought---and squeezing in reassurance. “Sorry, I can’t reach your hand.” He tried to joke, hoping that would take her mind off of it a little and make her laugh.

Wanda let out a weak chuckle. “It’s fine.”

Pietro turned his head--- “What are you wearing?!” He asked. Remembered, just as fast. “Oh… Oh nooo . Oh, this is going to be hilarious .”

He paid full attention, wanted to know how his sister would get herself out of this.

“Oh, the meaning of it!” 50s Vision said, after stumbling over his words quite a fair bit. “You want to know the meaning of it, and the meaning of it - is that this is the traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality.” He lied.

Pietro burst out laughing. That was an awesome cover-up, he had to give it to the toaster; nice way of using the Americans’ lack of knowledge about other cultures to their use. Good thing Wanda was Sokovian.

50s Wanda quickly caught on and nodded to, walking towards him. She turned her back, and he placed his hands around her eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Oh, is that my host behind me?”

“It certainly is!”

Wanda turned, shaking hands with her husband. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Yes!” Vision chuckled. “See, I forgot tot ell you my wife is from Europe.” He said, as they still continued to shake hands.

“You know shaking hands normally isn’t supposed to last a full minute, unless you’re posing for pictures.”

50s Wanda and Vision turned, so that they were just holding hands instead.

“Oh, how exotic!” said Mrs. Hart.

“We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks.”

Pietro glared. “Did he just--?”

“It is fine, Piet. T’was a joke.”

Pietro tried to ease up, but he already didn’t like this… ‘Mr. Hart’.

“Oh, hush Arthur! Have you no culture at all?” Mrs. Hart enunciated, with a chuckle, almost nervous. “And that dress,” she pointed.

“Yes, it’s… It’s so… Sokovian, is what it is! Yes!” said Vision.

“That is not--” Pietro started. “That is neither a Dirndls or a lederhosen.”

“Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment sweetheart?” 50s Wanda said in that tone of voice Momma often used that meant---

“Ooh, he’s in trouble now.” Pietro snickered.

“Oh, yes.” Vision said, taking the time to blow a candle out.

They went inside the kitchen.

“Who are those people?!” Wanda demanded.

“What are you wearing?!” Vision questioned.

“Why are they here?”

“What are you wearing?!” He repeated, his tone lower.

“Well, it’s our anniversary!”

“Our anniversary of what?!”

“Well, if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you!” 50s Wanda huffed, throwing down her scarf and walking away to the farther side of the kitchen on the other side of the kitchen counter, crossing her arms.

“Your hairstyle is awesome, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Wanda said, and although Pietro wasn’t looking, he could hear the smile in her tone. “I liked my shorter hairstyles in the later eras of this. The curls are really quite nice, aren’t they?”

“Yes, and high-quality black and white is really nice to watch too.”

“Isn’t it?” Wanda replied. “I thought it would be.”

“The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!”

“You move at the speed of the sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who needs to abbreviate?!” 50s Wanda challenged.

“Was that a Buffy the Vampire Slayer reference?” Pietro asked. “The floating through the air--- pencil---pen?”

“No, but now t hat I think of it, it could be thought of as that. I am a bisexual redheaded witch with very powerful abilities.”

“Right? You’re like the real-life Willow Rosenberg, and I’m Xander.”

“No.” Wanda replied immediately. “Willow and Xander made out, that is disgusting.”

“Well, obviously. But I mean like, in terms of personality; no one fits me better.”

“That stunning outfit.” 50s Vision said, almost grunting the words out.

Pietro cringed.

“You’re not a coward, so you’re like a mix of the guys; Oz’s chillness, and ability to just go with the flow. Giles’ awkwardness. Spike’s bravery and… I guess, Xander’s humour? And Angel’s whole noble thing.” Wanda said.

“Oh, you’re so right.” Pietro replied. “Also, he can move at the sound of speed?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what’s the point of me?” He whined, eating a chip.

“I think that in other universes, you run faster than the sound of speed. So, you just need to train and develop your powers a little more.”

“Ah,” Pietro grinned. “I like that. Faster than anyone else, including your running---no, flying---toaster.”

“I might have a better idea.” 50s Wanda said. She snapped her fingers, and her dress changed into a different one. Still cute, in black and white so the colour didn’t really show, off-shoulder with a bow at the chest, and a flowy end. He didn’t know what the dress was called.

“Ooh, I love that! You should wear that again someday!”

“I don’t think there’s any event we could go to where that would be a smart outfit to wear.”

“If I find an event where it is, would you?”

“I guess, yes.”

“Cool, I’ll set you up on a blind date.” He joked.

“Piet, no-” Wanda threw a pillow at him.

He laughed, laying flat on the bed, and turning his head towards her. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding.”

She sighed in relief.

“Maybe.”

“Piet!”

“Oh, Agnes! You’re a life-saver.”

“What kind of housewife would I be if I didn’t have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place?” Agnes replied.

“Is that true?” Pietro asked.

“No,” Wanda said. “I mean… At least, I think not… But then again, Agne-- Agatha is the one who really did live through the 50s.”

“Hmm--- wait what?”

“It’s this whole thing, she was born in 1640s, around witchcraft must burn type of time.”

“She’s--- what?! She looks like she’s--- what?! She’s like-- what?! ” Pietro squawked. “She’s like--- She’s--- She’s pretty , though! How is she like 1000 years old?!”

“I mean, I think it’s a lot less than that, but okay-” Wanda snickered. “She is pretty, and that is because she’s keeping herself young with magic, I think. Like uhm--- Mother Gothel.”

“Oh, you are right! She does look like Mother Gothel.”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“-she’s absolutely FINE IN THERE!” Vision yelled.

“Well, thank you Agnes. I think I’ve got it covered from here.” said Wanda, placing her hands on Agatha’s waist, while the older woman raised her hands to let her.

“Oh, are you sure, dear?”

“Hmm!” Wanda nodded.

“Many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip.” She said, turning her body to press her back a little against Wanda’s front, leaning her had back.

“Jesus Christ, just kiss already.”

“That’s me you’re talking about.” Wanda said in a deadpan tone.

“Oh, sorry,” Pietro replied. “I forgot.” He scratched his nape sheepishly.

“You’re so naughty!” 50s Wanda laughed, and started to lead her out towards the back door, her hands still on Agatha’s waist.

“Oh, shall I just preheat the oven then, dear?”

“That won’t be necessary!” Wanda replied, almost beginning to manhandle Agatha--- Agnes.

“Oh. All right, then.” Agnes said, as Wanda opened the door. “Well, I know you’re in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap.”

Current present Wanda let out a noise of disbelief. “She said that!” She huffed.

“Hm?” Pietro questioned. “Said what?”

“The--- she--- the snap! I can’t believe her!”

“What about the snap?”

“That’s how Thanos won! Snap your fingers with a wish with the infinity stones, and anything you wish comes true. He snapped his fingers, and lo and behold, half the universe dies . And she just referenced it, in front of me! That’s why Vision died, that’s---” Wanda let out a nose, oddly resembling a growl.

“She stole your powers, and made you relive your worst memories, and you’re mad she referenced something that Grapes did?”

“Well…” Wanda said. “She was still meant to be my friend right now.” She shifted.

Pietro began to get a sense of how much her betrayal hurt Wanda; she’s grown close to Agnes--- Agatha. She’d liked being friends with her, liked having someone sweet and nosey and touchy, and Agatha had been using her, manipulating her.

Then he realized---Agnes-Agatha was her first friend that wasn’t a teammate. Someone that befriended her not as an Avenger, a family member, a co-worker of their husband/father (in the Barton’s case), or a fellow experimenteé, just as a friend.

Agnes-Agatha was the first ever friend she’d made when she was happy , or at least tried to make herself happy. When she was like herself, without all the baggage that her trauma and pain brought to her. Agnes-Agatha befriended Wanda Maximoff without ulterior motives.

Until she showed that she did have ulterior motives.

Pietro frowned, and stared at the screen, feeling guilty that he couldn’t rein his sadness in, because he knew that now Wanda was feeling his own sadness for her sake. Through empathy or their twin-link, she would feel it, or was already.

“Good girl.” Agnes said. “Recipe cards are on the counter there.”

“ How has she still not been escorted out?!” Pietro asked.

“She walked around the kitchen counter.” Wanda answered. “If you turn it back a few seconds, I was glaring at her. It was either about the snap comment, which I forgot, or the way she slipped out of my hands.”

“Heh,” Pietro snickered, because Wanda did indeed rewind the show, and he saw.

50s Wanda waved both arms, and things began to fly out of their places, creating a sort of ruckus that had the people on the living room turn their heads to.

Current Wanda did that sometimes too, like when she was hurrying, or she was too busy or lazy to clean, but wanted the room clean. The first few times it often happened when Pietro was in the bathroom, and out of nowhere he would just hear so many things moving. He eventually got used to it, and just yelled out certain things he didn’t want cleaned or picked up off the floor.

50s Vision began to sing, and 50s Wanda tilted her head, confused. Everything around her was automatically cooking, moving, and floating , which was definitely not a good sight to see for a couple trying to hide their powers.

Or, well, at least apparently trying to hide their powers.

“Oh, no too much!” 50s Wanda moved her hands again. The burnt whole chicken turned to a basket of eggs. “Oh no, not enough!”

How did one chicken turn into a basket of--- He furrowed his brows.

Okay, he supposed, sitcom logic.

“Diane!”

“I believe that’s my wife summoning me.”

“Your wife calls you Diane?”

“Yes, it’s her… pet name…for me. I’m coming… Fred.”

“Vision handles this chaos very well.”

“Yes, he does, doesn’t he?” She said, almost swooning.

Something flew out the window when Vision came in.

“How can I be of assistance?” He asked.

“Well, the chicken’s no longer a chicken, and the lobsters just flew the coop-”

“That was a lobster that went flying out the window?!”

“-so the steak is the last man standing.” 50s Wanda finished. “It says here I can cut down the prep time with a meat tenderizer.”

“Excellent plan. Where’s the tenderizer?” Vision said.

“I’m looking at him.” replied Wanda, holding a meat tenderizer towards Vision.

“You guys are terrible hosts.”

“I’ll be right back.”Wanda threw her apron at him, and left the kitchen.

“Like, absolutely awful. Vision deserves to be fired faster than… Than… Jonathan?”

“Jones.” Wanda corrected.

“Whoo-”

Did you just make yourself fall so he’d catch you?”

“I was running out of ideas.”

“The two of you are so chaotic, I will die of laughter watching this.”

“Who could that be?”50s Wanda said after a knock on the door interrupted the mess that was apparently dinner, despite no food having been served for what? An hour now?

“You didn’t answer the back door.”

Pietro got up, hearing the dialogue but not seeing the scene. He moved at fast speed, but not suer speed, to get a bag of doritos chips, and open it up, lay it on the floor, then take his previous place on the bed.

He came back to catch the end of Mr. Hart’s rant.

“I mean, look around! There’s all this chaos going on in your household.”

The dinner table was setting itself, prepared well and beautifully.

“Now, when are we gonna eat?!”

“Dinner is served.” Wanda announced calmly.

“Ah!” Vision exclaimed.

“Breakfast for dinner?” Mr. Hart said, cautious. “How very, uh…”

Mrs. Hart hit his stomach lightly. “-European.” He finished.

The wives in the room chuckled together.

“Ooh! Let’s have a toast!” Vision announced. “To my lovely and talented wife!”

“To our esteemed guests!” Wanda toasted, raising her glass.

“Yes. Cin cin.” Vision said.

“Cheers.”

  Pietro watched the show, in quiet interest, comments not coming to him quite as much currently. It was a calm period, after all, right? He watched as Mrs. Hart asked multiple questions all at once without giving Wanda time to answer. And when she did, the couple had difficulties answering, as if their memories didn’t give  them anything at all to work on.

Then he remembered; they never had the chance to marry. Another thing taken from his twin.

Then Mr. Hart was demanding an answer, hand hitting the table. And then, instead, he was choking. All Mrs. Hart kept saying was “Stop it!” with a smile, as Wanda stared on in horror.

There was a tense silence due to tense background music.

No one did anything.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Pietro asked. “Wanda, why aren’t you doing anything? This is your reality. Wanda-”

“Stop!” Wanda exclaimed. “He’ll be fine. Just--- don’t do this. Don’t--- shut up.” She said, her jaw clenched.

Pietro had the urge to argue, yell, ask anyway, but there was that edge to her voice, and this look in the way her lips were pursed that had the hairs on his arms and legs standing tall, and kept him quiet completely out of fear.

He fell off his chair.

Mrs. Hart continued to plead for him to stop it. No. Mrs. Hart was asking her to stop it. Mrs. Hart had turned towards Wanda, and despite the smile on her face, it was clear she was getting teary, and she was still asking for her to stop it. She knew.

Vision stared at his boss, and looked back up, a guilty look on his face. But he didn’t move.

No one moved.

Pietro’s blood grew cold.

Was he going to watch this man die for asking the wrong questions?

No.

No, his sister had promised; he would be fine. He was fine. She wouldn’t do that.

“Stop it. Stop it.” Mrs. Hart kept repeating.

“Vision, help him.” Wanda said.

Vision finally moved to get up off his seat.

Pietro released a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

His hand phased through. 50s Vision removed the food from his throat. Wanda sighed in relief.

The guilt hit immediately after. He had reacted just like them. He had promised to be different. He didn’t consider anything but what he assumed; what if she didn’t know? What if she was silent because she didn’t know why it was happening, how it could be happening because things were supposed to be nice in her sitcom?

Just because it was her reality didn’t mean she controlled everything that happened. She said it herself. If she did, then Agatha wouldn’t have been able to do anything .

He turned, and stretched out a hand-

“It’s fine,” she snapped. “Don’t. Just keep watching.” She opened her book again.

Pietro drew his hand back, guilt heavy like an anchor right over his heart.

“Yes, we’d better get going.”

“Well, are you both alright?”

The guilt doubled. That was his fault. It was…different, seeing things, than just hearing. He was still on her side, forever, always, but he’d judged before he waited, and it’d hurt Wanda.

Again.

Pietro watched with a clenched jaw, ignoring the tense feeling in the air.

“We had such a lovely time.” said Mrs. Hart, then approached from behind Wanda, hands around her eyes. The younger wife’s expression, barring eyes, screamed surprise. “This guest is leaving your home.”

“Is that gonna be a running gag?” He tried, wondering if Wanda just wanted to move on from his accusations.

“No, it ends this episode.” Wanda replied.

Pietro felt a lot better knowing that Wanda wasn’t mad at him for his accusations. God knows he would have been.

50s Wanda laughed, as well as the laughter soundtrack.

“Yes, thank you for coming!” Wanda replied, turning to shake hands with Mrs. Hart.

“You made me proud tonight, son.” said Mr. Hart as Wathe wives walked towards the door. “First thing Monday morning, you and me are gonna have a little chat.”

The husbands shook hands.

“We’ll see about that promotion, huh?” said Mr. Hart.

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir.”

“That’s so not fair!” Pietro exclaimed, trying to get back to the same mood before. “What about Jonas?!” He pouted.

Wanda opened the door for the Hart couple, and there a lobster was, clinging to the door, like a door knocker.

A chuckle left his lips without warning. Wanda let out a weak chuckle from behind too. He tried to tell himself that was enough. That it was okay to move on now, because she had too. He tried.

Wanda turned towards Vision with wide eyes. Mrs. Hart noticed the lobster.

“Oh.” started Mrs. Hart. “What a charming door knocker.” She reached out and knocked the lobster against the door.

Pietro laughed along with the laughing soundtrack.

“Good night!” And she left.

Wanda closed the door. Then leaned against the door, sighing extendedly in relief. And again. Vision, sat at the back-rest of the couch, turned, and sparkles surrounded his face, as it turned right back to his robot---synthezoid---version.

 They both made their way around to the couch.

“We are an unusual couple, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t think that was ever in question.” said Vision, picking up the remote as he sat down. He spread his arm out behind Wanda, and wrapped it around her shoulder.

They looked like a picture perfect married couple.

His heart ached for her, him. The them that existed in that time in that future.

They deserved to have that moment all to themselves for all of eternity, but time moved on, time didn’t allow anyone to have any moment to themselves for eternity. All they had was this scene, and however long it lasted.

“What I mean is, we don’t have an anniversary.” said 50s Wanda.

“Huh.”

“Or a song.” She added. “Or even wedding rings.”

“Well, we could remedy that.” says Vision. “Today could be our anniversary.”

“Of what? Surviving our first dinner party?”

The soundtrack of laughter played.

“Precisely. And our song could be?”

“Yakety yak, naturally.”

“Naturally.” He agreed.

“Hmm.”

They were silent for a while, then Wanda spoke; “And the rings?”

“Well, couldn’t you make some for us?”

They raise their hands, Wanda does a hand gesture, rings appear on their ring fingers. They smile, not to each other, they just smile. Their moment shared. 

“I do.” He says. “Do you?”

“Yes.” She says. “I do.”

They hold each other’s hands and turn to each other.

“And they lived happily ever after.”

Wanda lets out a sad gasp, and Pietro frowns, but they don’t reach for each other. They just watch on.

The wife and husband on TV share a kiss. They begin to ‘fade out’ through a Hexagon, their names on the side. The outro begins.

Pietro smiles, as he crunches his teeth down on a chip. Now, if that wasn’t a happy end to the episode, then nothing was.

“Side note,” he began. “You are perfect for sitcoms--- and acting. Have you ever thought about starting an acting career?”

“I don’t think Avengers have the time to start Hollywood careers, Piet.” She laughs.

“Well, imagine that I promised my time to start a movie, and then I get deployed on a mission? I set back everyone’s busy schedule.”

“I mean, yeah, but they could just push it back. They can’t force you on missions.”

“I mean, they could if it was important and my powers were needed . Plus; how would I ever go on undercover missions if my face is plastered on everywhere?”

“I don’t think any Avenger could ever, I mean our faces go everywhere, actress or not.”

“Well, yeah true.”

“Right?” Pietro says.

They continue to discuss the possibility of such a fate, and what it would entail of.

────━▒ ۞ ▒━────

“Hey,” Steve greeted, walking past the twins’ room, either from or to Natasha’s room. “Why aren’t you guys dressed up?”

“What do you mean?” Pietro asked.

He was still laying on his side near the edge of the bed, eating chips, his arm stretched and disappearing into the bag of Doritos on the floor right next to the bed. He pulls his hand back up to him, dorito chips in his hand, and right into his mouth.

“We have a party in like half an hour?” Steve said. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”

Wanda practically bursts out of the bathroom (“Give me a minute, I’m gonna cry in the bathtub, then we can watch the next episode”), the door barely opening fast enough to escape breaking in half. “What do you mean we have a party ?”

The door sways.

Pietro’s jaw drops. Well, actually, he gulps down his crunched up doritos, and then his jaw drops. He does have manners after all, they’re not barbarians. Kind of.

“What do you mean the party’s in 30 minutes?”

“...It’s…The… Nobody told you? Downstairs is literally decorated with so much. I--- you really didn’t know?”

“No???” Wanda said. “Nobody came to our rooms! Nobody said anything!” She throws her arms up. “What the fuck is FRIDAY for if we don’t even get fucking alerts for a party?!” She runs right back into the bathroom. Multiple items in the room begin to float.

Half of her closet and contents of her drawer float out of its place and into the bathroom, so do shoes and accessories. The room is a mess in a few seconds, just like their kitchen in the first episode. Pietro and Steve share a look.

Clothes begin to fly out of the bathroom, and then a wave of Scarlet and most of the clothes that had been taken in come back out. “What’s the dress code, Pietro?!” She says, almost shrieking.

Pietro turns his eyes towards Steve, fear in his eyes.

Steve does good, he thinks, in not laughing, but he still smiles as he answers; “Formal. Dress sort of thing.”

And more clothes fly out back into their places. Drawers close.

Pietro doesn’t even dare to suggest ‘why don’t you just use your powers to create your dress?’ . He doesn’t think he’ll walk away alive if he dares. Wanda cares about her appearance being given a 30-minute notice for a formal party happening right now, today, downstairs?

He has self-preservation instincts, thank you very much.

“I’m gonna go before I get dragged in.” says Steve, albeit awkwardly.

How nice for him. Pietro doesn’t think he can leave until she’s done. Until they’re both done, he realizes as suits from his closet fly out and land next to him.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “You should.”

Steve comes in, and pats his shoulder sadly. “You got this, kid.”

Then he leaves.

“Should I just put on my Scarlet Witch outfit?!”

“NO!” Pietro yells back. He prays to survive this.

He takes a tuxedo, and thinks that they should have asked for a second bathroom. He runs downstairs, showers, and puts on the tuxedo. He goes back upstairs before anyone catches a glimpse of him, takes long ways around, and then brushes his hair back. He puts on a plain silver ring on his thumb, and studs on his ears.

━━━━━┓ + ┏━━━━━

Natasha’s at the bar again, but this time, Bruce isn’t here to awkwardly flirt then, just as awkwardly, turn her down. She’s fine with that. What Bruce and she had---it wasn’t right, it wasn’t true---it was just a monster, seeking solace in a monster that seemed to handle himself better than she ever did.

This time, she isn’t the one mixing drinks, and holding conversations with strangers. Although she still scans the room. She wonders where the twins are.

Just as soon as she thinks it, the elevator door opens and reveals Pietro in a crisp black tuxedo suit, with a plain black bowtie, and clean white dress shirt underneath. He somehow looks both nerdy-esque and handsome-jock-esque at the same time. He’s pulling it off.

https://64.media.tumblr.com/54ff7cea0ed53d3acd67fb3accec6d22/71642bca857594fa-36/s1280x1920/cafad37a4e012ffa11ed8c125202ecede3d482cd.jpg  

A minute passes, then two, and he leaves the elevator, finally, and Wanda doesn’t step out. He holds his arm out to empty space, and then from a blind spot, she assumes, comes an arm stretched out, holding onto Pietro’s outstretched arm.

Those in the party have begun to pay attention; some probably-thinking-of-unfaithfulness married women’s gaze lingers on Pietro, some stare in curiosity at who’s going to be at his arm. She’s pretty sure only half of them know that the woman is most likely his twin sister. The rest probably just became of Tony Stark, not because they knew anything about the Avengers. Nevermind that most information about them was literally out on the internet.

Wanda stepped out of the elevator, finally.

Her hair was in curls, soft and gentle, placed against her shoulder. Her dress was…something. It took the breath away from her lungs, in a way she thought only existed in romance novels.

Like a pleasant kick to the gut--- but that was an awful simile.

There was a large show of cleavage, a long dip in the neckline, the shoulders straps had a cut in the middle, and were just that--- straps. Her arms were fully exposed by her side, and pale skin looked almost glowing in the light. Rings adorned her fingers, as usual, bringing attention to her slender fingers.

The dress was long, past ankle length, and had deliberate design cuts, by her left thigh, and calves, and a slit on the right side of her dress, showing her calves and black heels.

Natasha’s mind practically gave up, error sign and all.

https://imgix.bustle.com/wmag/2021/01/GettyImages-463999198.jpg?w=374&h=563&fit=crop&crop=faces&auto=format%2Ccompress  

Natasha breaks the glass cup in her hand.

Wanda captured the attention of practically everyone in the room.

Pietro leaned over to whisper something; Nat’s always been good at lip-reading (Yelena was better), and she can kind of see what Pietro’s saying, even through the distance. She has a clear view of him after all.

“She’s eye-fucking you, sestra”

Wanda tightened her grip around his wrist and he winced. Then mouthed, “What? I am not wrong!”

And Wanda laughed, then turned towards Natasha. The older redhead’s breath caught in her lungs, stuck, like someone stole all the air from the room and from her lungs and threw it out the window. Wanda looked like beauty personified, as her eyes met with Natasha, under the lighting of the living room lights.

She’d never seen someone so ethereal and…

She felt like she got hit by an explosion, and like she was floating safe and in cloud nine all at once, and she’d never known that was possible to feel simultaneously.

Then she walked forward, and Natasha was ready to follow her through the crowd, and watch as she interacted with others, but as she walked forward, she approached the bar---Natasha---first. She sat herself down right next to Natasha, her brother standing behind her her, his hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll have what you’re having.” Wanda said.

“Drinking so early on?” She asked, trying to collect herself, and calling the bartender over with a gesture of her hand.

“Well, when the company’s this pretty and looks like a better time than anyone else; why wouldn’t I?” Wanda voiced.

She smirked, ignoring the way her heart thudded against her rib-cage, and the way that that look returning in Wanda’s expression made her feel all jittery and nervous. To her, Wanda had always been this adorable, beautiful, woman that she’d need to look out for; protect. She was this chaotic twin sister of Pietro, she was a lot of things, but overall, someone that screamed…well, bottom .

But there were these moments, commonly in battle, when her confidence showed. And there would be this look in her eyes, and a certain way she smiled that sent shivers down her spine, made her knees weak, made her want to submit to Wanda instead of watching Wanda submit.

She thought she’d had a fairly decent grasp of the girl finally, but when those moments came; it was like she was a different person entirely.

Memories of when she got Wanda’s number came to mind; that smirk, and rise of her cheekbones, and how she was so glad she was sitting down or else she might have fallen, her legs had failed her then.

Or when Tony challenged her and Wanda had just been so glad ---The little not-a-witch did a good job of not showing it, but it was clear; To her only, it seemed---and looked so smug and cocky and she had felt so… During the entire game, she’d done nothing but hand out cards and stare at Wanda.

Then it all faltered, that confident ‘different person’ sort of attitude, packed away in a split second the moment she’d called her kotenok .

And here she was again, that confident side that made Natasha’s knees weak.

Once again, she’s glad she had the foresight to be sitting down.

One by one, slowly, the conversation behind them begins again. Pietro rolls his eyes from behind his sister and pats her back, she nods, places her hand over his, and he nods back and leaves.

Wanda placed her hand on the table, her hand grazing the side of hers. She felt  hyper-aware of Wanda’s skin against her, like fire bloomed where she touched. She stared at the woman, then glanced at their hands; she saw Wanda glance too, but when the younger twin didn’t move her hands, neither did she.

“Parties not your thing?” She asked.

“Sometimes, but not really.” Wanda replied. “Especially not since I got my powers.”

She remembered the conversation as they went down the stairs, but she didn’t want to assume. “Is that why you’re here?” She raised a brow. “‘Cause people leave me alone?”

“Don’t kid,” Wanda chuckled.

She raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“All these people who probably made good choices in investment to get them here, or slept around with models enough to know true beauty, and all sorts of people; and they leave you alone?”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I’m just saying; I thought the people here had taste. But if they avoid you, they must be a very  blind group.”

She laughed, watching the bartender make someone’s drink fast, trying to get to their drink as fast as he could, but bogged down by others’ orders; Tony should have ordered more  bartenders. “They know I’m attractive,” she said. “But they also know I’m as dangerous as I am pretty, and they all have survival instincts.”

Wanda moved her chair closer, magic, till the brunette’s thighs touched hers, and she turned her head, to whisper, but Natasha had been momentarily distracted by her scent; mostly jasmine, but with hints of bergamot, roses and something citrusy---

‘Jesus Christ she smelled good too?’ , she thought to herself.

Then hot breath hit her skin, “I’d risk death to talk to you, if I was a stranger.”

Natasha licked her lips, the inside of her mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. Wanda leaned back and innocently stared at her rings. It brought Natasha’s attention to her rings too. And then fantasies of what those fingers could do to her---

‘Stop it.’ , she told herself, ‘You’re next to a mind reader.’

…but she hadn’t said anything?

‘She was probably just being polite.’

Or, she might be staying away from your head. Meaning, you’re safe to think whatever you wanna think.

‘But you’re so close to her, she might hear a thought of yours by accident.’

That’s alright. You know that not-so-deep down, you want her to hear you. Find out what she’d do if she knew.

Wanda fully placed her hand over Natasha’s. “Hey,” she said. “Don’t get too lost in your head; I’m still here trying to get your attention.”

“You have it,” she chuckled, trying to sound laid-back and amused. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Keep it solely on me.” The younger woman replied, twirling a ring. “And me only.”

She turned in her chair, her body fully towards Wanda and crossed her legs; “What if someone else is demanding my attention?”

“Well, you’ve said so yourself; people stay away from you. If they weren’t smart enough to approach you before I got here, they don’t deserve your attention.”

“What if it’s Steve?”

“Steve can go fuck himself.” Wanda said, the curse falling from the magic user’s lips with a crude sort of beauty had heat building in her belly. Wanda rested her elbow on the table and  leaned her chin against her palm, smiling. “I want to talk to my favourite Avenger uninterrupted.”

She laughed it off, but butterflies were floating around in her stomach, and had a feeling that one day, this wouldn’t be just flirting, one day it would be dangerous, and she would fall and she wasn’t sure if anyone would catch her. She’d never allowed herself to feel this way, and she hadn’t been trying to, but Wanda had an effect on her. She didn’t like how easily the little witch got past her walls.

Like someone that had already navigated her defenses in the past.

“Talk about what?” She questioned.

“Everything and everyone you want to,” Wanda said back. 

The bartender finally placed two Long Island Iced Tea---Natasha needed to get drunk, and she needed to do it fast, if she was gonna make sure she at least tolerated half of the people in this room without the urge to deck them immediately coming to the forefront of her mind--- drinks on the space in front of her, and towards Wanda.

“And if I don’t want to talk?”

“I’m fine with that too.” Wanda said, placing her free hand around the glass in front of her. It made the Black Widow keenly aware of the way Wanda’s hand still laid upon her. “I’m happy to listen to your mind without speaking.”

She tensed, “You said you didn’t listen to my thoughts.”

“And I don’t.” Wanda quickly defended. “Remember? The buzz.”

“You’re happy to listening to my thoughts buzzing for hours?”

“You talk like that’s strange.”

“Well, you just practically said you’d be fine with listening to something like bees buzzing around for hours in silence.”

Wanda turned to her, smile on her face, an amused expression on her face; “And who said your thoughts were like bees? Your mind’s far more beautiful than you think, Natasha. It’s one of the most pleasing that I’ve ever had the pleasure of being around. It’s the reason I’d be glad to spend this entire party by your side instead of being in that crowd like my brother.”

She didn’t think it was possible, was sure Wanda was lying. Her mind? Beautiful? It sounded like a sick joke. Her mind wasn’t even pleasant to her . How could it be pleasant for Wanda?

“Why should I listen to aggressive bees buzzing around me when I could listen to the most beautiful melody I’ve ever heard?” Wanda’s words were genuine, she didn’t turn to face her and gauge her reaction, she turned away, like she was embarrassed to have even said what she said.

A somewhat comfortable silence followed. She didn’t know what to say, and true to her word, Wanda was perfectly content to sit in silence with her. She did, however, notice the way Wanda slowly began to move closer to her, her head seemingly instinctively leaning towards her. Like she was trying to press their heads together.

She’d only seen Wanda do it twice before - with her brother, and with Vision. Two people she was obviously comfortable with.

Words that weren’t even fully formed blocked her throat, choked her like a tight grip around her airway. Wanda trusted her, was comfortable with her. She’d seen into her mind, seen the worst of her, and she looked past all of it so easily.

She could still remember the first time they really talked; the game of Never Have I Ever and the way she had been so sure Wanda had been avoiding her, had been uncomfortable with her and now here she was; her body language screaming otherwise.

“Congratulations, by the way.” She stated, forced out. She couldn’t handle this silence. Couldn’t wait and see how much else her body language would tell Natasha about what Wanda thought of her. It was all too much.

Just like the night she found out that Wanda had kept her safe from her mind for a month.

‘A dangerous and dark mind that she still thinks is beautiful ,’ , her mind echoed to her.

“For what?”

“Winning Tony out of his money; and ego, I think. That was your goal, wasn’t it?”

“Can’t ever hide anything from you.” Wanda stirred the Long Island Iced Tea with her straw, then took a sip, her lips parting in a way that Natasha could barely keep her eyes away from.

“I’m a spy for a reason, Maximoff.”

“Say that again.”

“Hm?” Natasha turned towards her. “Say what?”

“My name.”

“Wanda.” 

“No, not that.”

“Maximoff?”

“Yes.” Wanda said. “Say it again.”

“Maximoff.” She laughed again---had she laughed almost five times now? She couldn’t remember ever laughing so much in the span of a conversation aside from when she was talking with the Barton family, and Steve---and pursed her lips. “What’s up with you?”

“You hide your accent really well, you know.”

“I know,” she nodded. “It was party of my training.”

“Yes, but when you say my name like that-” Like what? “-it comes back. Your accent, I mean. You say my name right and that perfect american accent of yours goes away, and you say it right in a way no on in this team does, but I don’t care about that.”

“What do you care about then?”

“I think your accent’s hot, obviously.”

Natasha blinked, shock, flustered---and oh my god, she was blushing right now wasn’t she?---and turned away to drink her beverage.

Wanda looked around, after a moment of silence. “Is this party his way of fixing his ego?”

“Someone’s perceptive.” She said, in way of answer.

She turned to Natasha, looking at her from under her lashes, wide blue-grey doe eyes looking teasing, mischievous , and up at Natasha, as she leaned back, away from her drink and the straw, and left a lipstick mark on the paper straw. The combination of things Wanda was doing caused a heat to build in her, and it was so unfair how easily she could do it.

“I learned from the best.” Wanda replied. “Plus I’ve always liked to watch people. Just needed someone to tell me that habit was a smart one, not a creepy one.”

Natasha blinked. Wanda was looking at her like she should be in on it, but she’d never said that to her. It was---is---a smart habit, rather than a creepy one, yes. But she’d never told Wanda that. She and Wanda - they didn’t talk a lot for some reason.

“Who said that? Which someone beat me to the punch?”

Wanda’s eyes widened slightly, then she stared at Natasha, and--- there it was!

Sometimes, Wanda looked at her like she was seeing her , everything about her, not in the way that she was reading someone’s mind, in the way that she knew them, saw them and appreciated them. But sometimes, that look was more . Like, she was seeing everything about them including their past and their future and she loved it. Like she was looking far beyond Natasha, and thinking fondly of something. Something Natasha had been in but didn’t know about.

Whenever Wanda stared at her like that, it made her wonder if it was how people with amnesia felt, seeing people stare at them with some sort of memories in their head, a sort of emotion triggered by their mere presence that they didn’t share.

It drove her crazy.

“She was a smart woman,” said Wanda. “I liked her for the longest time; I had a boyfriend, but I just could not keep my eyes off of her. Sometimes I searched for her in a room before I searched for him, and it felt like cheating, but then she would turn like she was looking for me too and give me this small smile, and any guilt I felt would just… Go away. Like it was never even there. Sometimes I’d even forget he was there if she was there too.”

She felt shivers go up her spine this time, a warm feeling, and an unsettling feeling mixing in her gut. Something seemed off here.

“Why aren’t you together then?”

“I had a boyfriend ,” Wanda emphasized. “I may have crushes outside of relationships, and though they’d never been as serious as what I felt for her , I am loyal. I give my whole heart out and she… She would never have accepted my heart. But he did. And I loved him too. So, it was fine. I was fine with having her as a friend. I was fine knowing her eyes were on someone else, and would always be.”

“Are you sure she was smart?”

“The smartest.” Wanda answered, a finality in her tone, daring her to argue and risk her wrath. “Wisest, hottest, strongest, most capable, most beautiful.”

She doubted that. The most beautiful girl was in front of her right now, drinking the drink that Natasha bought for her, and whoever this she was; she’d missed her chance, and was dumb enough to let someone like Wanda slip through her fingers, so fuck her.

Her though, she’d never make that mistake.

Not that she would pursue anything, because Wanda was safer, better, and so her heart deserved someone that was better than her to hold and keep it too. But until she found that person, Natasha would be right here, flirting, teasing, and making sure she knew she was adored.

However, she’d make it known that she would be glad to accept her heart, to accept anything Wanda deemed her worthy to have of her. Her attention, her time, her presence, her smiles, those nose scrunches of hers. And if ever Wanda made the mistake of giving her her affection, she’d let it be known that she was glad to have it, unlike that her she seemed to be talking about.

“What happened to her?”

Wanda’s face instantly darkened. It was a warning sign of yet another tragedy that had befallen her, because of course. Wanda seemed like the most tragic person she’d ever met; Natasha briefly wondered if life had ever given her a break, then Pietro appeared in her line of sight, talking to someone---Sam, she thinks---and she tells herself that yes , Life did give her a break. After all, it wasn’t cruel enough to let her brother be taken away from her.

“I… She had a big heart; the biggest I’d ever--- she had so much compassion, and… She… She died for something bigger than her.” The experiments; all the volunteers had thought they were coming into it for something bigger than themselves, and of course Wanda met someone during the experiments. It was such a big part of her life, after all. “Died…for nothing. Just like my boyfriend. Just like everyone else I ever loved--- I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha could feel her instincts telling her a multitude of things; something was wrong, something was off, something was different, Wanda needed comfort, Wanda was hiding something---although that was already known to her---and Wanda was speaking of something she needed to figure out and understand, because it was going to be important .

“Your brother hasn’t.” She said, “You shouldn’t assume so fast.”

She chuckled bitterly. “Yeah,” she said. “He hasn’t, not in this life. And I should just be so lucky, right? I don’t have to know what it feels like to live without him and I’ll never have to know, because he’ll stay alive, right? That’s what you all think, right? Since he escaped a narrow death at Novi Grad. I’m just so so lucky .”

Natasha’s brows furrowed in concern. In this life?--- it was the part that stuck out to her the most, along with that dark bitter tone of hers, and again, she wondered; what was it that Wanda knew that she didn’t?

Wanda downed the alcoholic drink in one long drink, quickly, and got up. “I have to go.”

Natasha watched as she got up and began to walk away and before she could realize it, she reached out and grasped Wanda’s wrist. Her cold fingers pressed against Wanda’s warm skin---even through the fabric she could feel it---and Wanda turned towards her.

“What?!--- I’m sorry.” The brunette took a second, took a breath. Then corrected herself, “what?”

“You know you can talk to me, right?” She said, words crawling out of her mouth, forced, almost like spiders. “You’re not saying something, and that’s fine, but you can talk to me still. Secrets or not.”

Blue-grey-green eyes glossed over as her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t do this right now, Natal’ya.”

She froze. That was exactly how her name was said. That was exactly how her name was said. That was how Melina called her, Alexei, Yelena sometimes; that was how she referred to herself sometimes. A way that  seemed too easy and casual and used in Wanda’s lips, like a name she’d used so often she’d gotten used it to saying it that way, and that way only.

But Natasha had never once told her how her name was said.

Wanda’s wrist slipped out of her hand. “Thanks for the company, and for your time, Natal---Natasha. I enjoyed our talk.” The younger girl smiled (weakly), and walked away.

Natasha watched her.

(She missed the way Wanda said her real name already).

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

(TW: MENTIONS OF CONSIDERING SUICIDE)

Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget.

One word ran amok in her head and it was that word; forget .

She wouldn't change a single thing about her conversation with Natasha; she’d enjoyed it, she’d been glad that for once her low self-esteem hadn’t made her shy at the mere thought of someone as attractive and amazing as Natasha thinking well of her, and her confidence finally came to her without interruptions.

Because that was really her biggest vice around Natasha. She had put the older woman up on this higher level, a sort of pedestal, of just being , and herself somewhere down lower. So any interest she showed made her feel a little bit more worthy and better, giddy like a school-girl because it was like meeting your idol or celebrity crush. Holy shit someone this awesome is taking their time to talk to me !

But it’d all gone wrong ( wrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrong --) when Pietro had been mentioned. She thought she could drink past it, she thought she could party it out, thought she could ignore those voices and thoughts in her head, but it all came back to her at full force.

So so lucky , right?

I never had to lose him.

I never have to know what that feels like.

He didn’t die, right?

He didn’t die…

He didn’t die

So she should have been so much happier this time. She was lucky. Pietro wasn’t dead, and she didn’t have to live without him. She shouldn’t be feeling like this, like there was anything to be depressed about, like there was any reason for her to feel like shit because there wasn’t . Her parents were the only ones that she loved that died, Pietro was live, Vision was alive, Natasha was alive, her kids didn’t hate her, and she wasn’t the monster that she was. Steve was alive. No one had been taken away from her before she was ready to part with them.

Nothing had happened, and yet why was she still feeling like this?!

Things were supposed to be better--- they were better.

She hadn’t moped around, and she had gotten to know the Avengers a little bit more. She had replied to Zrinka, and had---

‘Fuck. Stop. Please. Forget. Just forget. It didn’t happen. You---I---have no reason to feel like this.’

She bumped into a waiter, her hand outstretched to use her magic on complete instinct before their tray fell. She took sight of the champagne on the tray, took one, and flashed the waiter a quick smile, then walked away. She walked back a second after, taking three more, as much as her hands could carry, and going off to the exit to avoid her brother.

She could already feel his concern radiating off of him in waves, going from far to close, the longer she stayed in one position.

The cold air biting at her skin did a lot to help her clear her mind, the way it felt refreshing as she breathed it in and took no time with finishing off the champagne in her hands.

She opened her palm, the glasses dropping for only a second before they disappeared in a mist of scarlet, into Pietro’s hands inside the building. She’s at least 70% sure he can balance it all or catch it before any of the glasses fall. That should deter him for a little, to have to find a waiter with a tray to place the glasses on. Then he should think he’s just lost her in the crowd and give up. Hopefully.

It’s not enough, and she knows it, knows she’ll be going out to another party tomorrow. Knows she’ll wake up in someone else’s bed the day after. Know sweat will stick to her skin, and she’ll feel like she’s been dropped from heaven, all over again, but it’s fine, because at least she can forget.

She won’t do it tonight, though.

She can’t get the memory of Natasha’s green eyes, wide and pleading, hoping for her to open up.

Can’t forget about the way Natasha’s lips quirked up, amused, and endeared. The way her blush settled into her cheeks. The way she looked, how her hair, curled and styled, rested on her shoulder, that suit she wore. She can’t go anywhere right now without thinking she’s either betraying, or disappointing Natasha.

She can’t tell which is worse, so she won’t go.

Not tonight.

But tomorrow, she will go leave, and she will not return until her mind is finished trying to be heard, and she will be fine.

She closed the balcony and stepped off tot he side, so she wouldn’t be seen through the glass. She held onto the railing, hips pressed against cold metal and stared at the long drop to the bottom.

She hates moments like this, all alone, at the edge, tempted but there is someone out there tethering her to this world, keeping her from doing what she wants, and because she cares , because she cares so fucking much, she knows she will never let herself have this relief, at the sake of putting him through what she feels.

She especially hates when she feels like this, like her mind is attacking her, and everything has gone wrong and is going wrong but it’s the most ridiculous thing ever because nothing is going wrong.

That was the whole point of this, wasn’t it? And she’s been succeeding.

Nothing’s gone wrong, nothing’s happened, and even if her mind is telling her that her whole world has fallen, it hasn’t, and she has to fucking get that through her head because she’s the only one who seems to be at all bothered.

They don’t understand.

They’ll never understand.

Why should they? She asks herself, even she doesn’t.

It’s just so tiring, the way she feels so dramatic and wrong and needy.

To her, it feels like she’s walking around in the space of a broken planet, everything around her is dark and and broken, burned to ashes. Her whole world has crashed and burned eons and lifetimes ago, and she feels the need to scream out for anyone to notice, for anyone to help her, and rebuild her world, but they all go about their lives. Her voice isn’t hers, she can’t scream, her mind tells her not to, and she follows its order like a mindless soldier.

No one sees, they think she’s doing alright, Pietro thinks she’s doing alright. And she understands. She should be---doing alright, after all. Nothing has happened, she repeats to herself. Nothing has happened, and she’s lost no one, and she’s different from the Wanda she was in her memories. Pietro is happy, and he almost died, and he almost lost her, and he’s happy.

Why the fuck isn’t she?

She didn’t lose him. She didn’t lose anyone. Everything is going so fucking good , and Pietro being there is a reminder of this, of how different it is, of the fact that she has nothing to be upset about. Pietro is a sign that everything is alright, but why doesn’t it feel like it?

Why does seeing him feel like---

She’s the Scarlet Witch.

She was promised a kingdom in the Multiverse.

But, she questions, what does that matter when she doesn’t get what she wants? When the people she wanted to share anything with are all gone?

“He’s not gone” , Natasha’s voice echoes in her head.

Wanda clutches at her head. “He’s not dead.” She repeats to herself.

He’s not dead, so why does it feel like she’s still grieving him?!

“Sabrina,” says a voice that she doesn’t want to hear, a voice she recognizes, and doesn’t want to be around. Not now, not ever, not alone, especially.

“Stark.” She replies, but doesn’t turn, just places her hand back down on the railings, grips tighter until her palms turn completely white.

“What’re you out of the party for?”

“It’s none of your business.” She grits out. The anger she feels along with  the torrent of emotions wild like a storm inside of her feel like ti’s triggering her magic. Needles and spikes poke under her skin, begging to be let out. She needs to go somewhere, or do something, anything . Even that.

But she won’t. She knows she won’t.

She doesn’t trust herself enough to.

She’ll let the spikes and blades continue inside her vein, let the feeling turn from an irritating feeling to something resembling pain as they intertwine around her muscles and nerves. Waiting to be channelled.

It’s better than the alternative.

And what’s a little pain to her?

If she couldn’t feel the presence of minds, she would have assumed Tony left minutes ago, he’s too silent, she can barely even hear his breathing. But as it was, she can feel minds, and his---logical, fearful, messy---is still there.

“Say it.” She snapped. “Just say what you want to say, and leave. I know you want to say something.”

“What you’re doing-” he starts. “It won’t get rid of it all.”

“What do you know of what I’m doing?!” She hisses, turning around. She can feel the way her irises try to shift from her natural eye-colour to red. She doesn’t let the red make it to her hands. Knows if she does, something bad might happen. She’s too tired to let something happen right now. She can’t handle feeling their fear again.

“I used to be you.” He said.

“You are nothing like me.” she scoffed. “What do you know of poverty? What do you know of experiments? What do you know of losing more than your parents?” What the fuck do you know of wondering how much suffering it’ll take to replace this one happy thing you have in your life? “What do you know about walking around knowing how it feels to lose everything so much, you can’t even handle the feeling of having anything in the first place without fearing of when it’ll be taken away from you? You don’t.”

“...” Tony chews on the inside of his cheek. “I may not.” He starts. “But I know this.” He gestures to her, her entire body.

“Know what ?” She scoffed, her tone harsh.

“The pretty dresses, the flaunting around, getting confidence from others; the parties, the drinking, how deep the hole goes.”

“Stop,” she whispered, her jaw trembling with rage.

“How it feels like no one understands, so you scream into the void hoping it gets everything out so you can be just like everyone else-

“Stop it.”

“-so you can stop feeling like you’re outside looking in.”

“I said, stop it , Stark!” She opened her eyes, eyes red and mystical. “Shut up, and leave.”

“You’ll see, Wanda.” He says, finally using her name. Not Sabrina, not any modern references, or anything alluding to witch. Not her last name, either. Just her name. “It won’t end how you want it to. It can all go wrong so fast.”

She smiled, a rueful, weak, pitiful, bitter smile. “You don’t know how I want this to end, Stark--- Tony. I’m not you. You don’t understand me.”

Tony clenches his jaw, just for a second, then he nods, and he takes his leave.

Wanda turns again, grips the railings and stares at the distance between where she is, and the ground.

She won’t do it.

She won’t fall; won’t show how broken she is; won’t hurt Pietro like that.

But it’s nice to imagine, isn’t it?

────━▒ ۞ ▒━────

Sam comes into the room with a bold statement. His hand is on his hip, like Steve, and he walks in with Tony beside him. “I’m getting to the cafeteria first!” He announces. He and Tony seem to have walked in mid-discussion.

The cafeteria in mention is the one Tony brought in into the third floor, for the dinner for everyone. It’s still there, because Tony had it for two days, because of course he did. Nobody knows why, nobody even wanted to ask why, but it’s there, and it’s the subject of an argument right now.

“I could get to the cafeteria the fastest.” Tony argues. “News flash, birdie, you can’t run faster than my thrusters.”

“Sure,” Sam agrees. “But betcha I could fly faster.” He steps up, staring Tony down.

Neither back down and stare back at each other. They don’t even blink, they puff up their chest.

“Is that a real bet you guys are really trying to start?” Steve asks, turning the page of the book he is---or was?---reading.

“YES!” Yell both Sam and Tony.

‘For two people in an argument, they are in sync really well’ , Pietro thinks.

“Well, I would reach the cafeteria fastest! Thrusters or wings or not, I’d beat you all.” He says, coming into the argument.

Wanda had told him herself. He could---eventually---run faster than sound, and fly faster than Vision, so. Obviously, he would win.

“Oh, okay.” Sam said, turning to him. “I see you’re joining too; I thought you were my friend! The betrayal!” He groans, dramatically.

“Yeah, well; I’m right and you know it.” Pietro gets up from his spot on the chair, pocketing his phone.

Tony scoffs. “Okay, Barry .” He narrows his eyes. “What do you bet?”

“What do you bet?” Pietro throws back. “Bold of you to be competing with a Maximoff after you lost so thoroughly to my twin.”

“Yeah, well she ain’t you.” He laughs. “You don’t got the luck she’s got.”

“I’m a Maximoff,” he argues. “I’m enough like her.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sam cuts in. “I’m part of this bet too, assholes.”

“You lost to my sister too, Sam!” Pietro says. “What are you trying to defend here?”

“Hey, now. Guys.” Steve interrupts. “Let’s settle this with words. Do this peacefully--- no fights. What’re the bets?”

Pietro catches Wanda lower her book and turn towards Natasha, she raises her brow and gives the older woman this look, and Natasha chuckles as she drinks her cup of something-warm (tea or coffee, he doesn’t really know. Wanda probably knows. She was gay enough to know what Natasha drinks in the morning.)

Wanda turns to him right after, narrowing her eyes at him.

“If y’all win,” Sam says. “I’ll let you fly redwing around. Once.”

“I’ll let the winner borrow my suit.” Tony adds. “Just once as well.”

“A ride around with my speed.” Pietro offers. “Once.”

“Good.” nods Steve. “That’s settled. When will this take place?”

“20 minutes.” proposes Tony.

“20 minutes then.”

────━▒ ۞ ▒━────

20 minutes later, the three are at the bottom of the stairs.

Stark is in full gear suit, Sam has his wings, and Pietro is crouched down in a runner’s stance.

Steve blows a whistle---he had a whistle?---and they go immediately. After a second of confusion, Wanda is nudging his mind. “Go,” Wanda tells him, and he runs. Catches up to them immediately---in their eyes---and runs even faster, makes it past them.

He arrives in less than a minute, up 3 flights of stairs and to the cafeteria---almost got lost for a second---and Tony reaches a good amount of seconds after him, that makes it clear he’s the winner.

Tony tch-ed.

Sam awwed when he saw they both arrived before him.

Then---

Wanda places a tray down, metal hits wood, the three guys look up and their jaws drop in shock.

Wasn’t she just at the bottom of the stairs with them?

Wanda meets his eyes, and she smiles.

His jaw double drops, if possible.

“Eat before you pass out,” she tells Pietro. “You probably burned off all your breakfast by now.” She smirks at the two men behind him.

“What the…” Sam mumbles.

“So,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “By terms of your bet, I get to…fly Redwing around once, wear Stark’s suit once, and get a ride with Piet’s super speed once, yes?”

“How the-” Tony gestured to her and the door, and furrowed his brows.

Wanda winks at Pietro. “A magician never tells.”

She walks past them, and Pietro stares at her until she walks past the door, out of his sight.

“Wait!” He yells, realizing something. “Where are you going?!”

“To a party!” She yells back. “I haven’t gone in a while.”

She hadn’t gone in almost a week, 6 days, really. It wasn’t that long.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

When the music plays, and bodies press against her, hands around her waist, and up her arms, gentle and rough, and so so not familiar, it’s easy for Wanda to forget.

People touch her like they’re glad to even be around her; like they think they’re better than her; like they think she’s better than them; like she’s a stranger; like she’s a lover. To them, she’s so many things, but she’s also nothing to them, and it’s exhilarating and freeing.

She doesn’t have to try and be fine around them. She doesn’t have to feel like they don’t understand her.

She knows they don’t know if they’re fine or not, and they won’t assume.

It’s everything.

So she dances, and she jumps, and she pulls strangers into kisses, and lets herself be pulled as well. She makes out with someone in the dim changing lights of the club. They’re not against the wall, or the bathroom, or anywhere. They’re directly in the middle of the crowd, but it’s great anyway. Because he helps her forget.

Because his coarse, calloused hands, and his rough lips feel nothing like comfort or passion, and it’s enough.

She gets lost in the haze of it all.

In the lights, in the music, in the feel of their minds, in ecstasy, and in the way her mind silences, drowned out by everyone and everything else.

Heaven, heaven, heaven, heaven, heaven--- she never wants to drop back down into hell. Into reality.

She’s pulled aside, back into a clearer sense of herself, but she stays up in Heaven, reality hasn’t set in, so it’s fine.

“Do you want to experience real heaven?” A different man asks.

If that’s a pickup line, that’s truly awful, but Wanda gives him a chance anyway. What’s she got to lose?

She’s the all-powerful Scarlet Witch.

She can’t even die. What a fucking joke.

“Huh?” she replies. “Look, if that was a pickup line, that was horrible, dear. Try again.”

The man shakes his head. “No.” He reaches into his pocket and then opens his hand, and there lays something very clear, something she’s recognized but never used before:

Heroin.

“Do you want it?” He asks. “Just $10 dollars, and it’s all yours.”

Wanda stares at him.

She opens her mouth to answer.