Progress

Wanda presses her fingertips into her temples, frowning around the headache that she can already feel beginning to build behind her eyes. “Let me get this straight: Nicholas has made a deal with Dormammu that would allow Earth to be absorbed into the Dark Dimension, in exchange for Nicholas acting nominally as Dormammu’s proxy upon being installed as world leader.” She forces her eyes open and lifts her head. “Have I missed anything?”

“No, that’s about the gist of it,” Strange says with a shake of his head.

“How did you find all of this out?” Agatha asks, voice dull and emotionless as she looks between Monica and Strange, who seem to very much be the one in charge of this entire operation. In the shadows beneath the table, her knuckles white from just how tightly she’s clasped her hands together.

“We were able to sway one of Nicholas’ daughters,” Agatha inhales sharply at the mention of Nicholas having children, surprise evident of her features as Monica continues to speak, “over to our side. She was able to feed us some information in regards to what was going on.”

“H-how can you be sure that she was telling you the truth?”

Monica’s face grows somber. “Her body was recovered from one of the lakes in Salem. It was determined that she couldn’t have possibly been a victim of the serial killer that was operating in the area at the time.”

“How were you able to determine that?” asked Vision, still hidden beneath his guise of a scruffy teenager. He’d looked at Wanda with pleading eyes, as if begging her to let him reveal himself to his sons, but she’d ignored his silent pleas. This version of Vision isn’t her Vision, regardless of whether or not he has her Vision’s memories, and the way he’s acted around her - around Agatha and their daughter - so far seem to cement in her mind the idea that maybe, just maybe, he’s not particularly inclined to act in the best interests of who she considers to be her family, regardless of whether or not it’s also his family. After all, Agatha’s at least attempting to develop some kind of relationship with the boys, irrespective of the fact that they’re not her family, so why can’t Vision?

As such, she doesn’t want to risk letting him get close to her sons. He’s already hurt her once, and she doesn’t want to allow him to get enough to this little family of hers for him to do it again. Her eyes dart over to the far corner of the room, where Irena’s asleep in her carrier, and the boys are curled up in a tangle of limbs on the floor, in what Darcy had jokingly called a ‘food coma’. The mess of crumbs and discarded cups and plates that litters the floor around them suggests that it may be a little bit more true that Darcy’s off-hand comment had implied.

“Different MO,” Monica answers. “We were able to get access to the files that the Salem PD has on the cases, and there’s no apparent connection between the daughter’s murder and the others, so we’re working under the assumption that she was killed by someone else.”

“That doesn’t mean she was telling the truth.”

“No,” Monica concedes, “it doesn’t. But we don’t yet have any other potential suspects or motives in the case.”

Reluctantly, Agatha nods, sighing as she deflates. “Alright. What’s all this got to do with us?”

Monica shares a hesitant, questioning glance with Darcy, Jimmy and Sigmund. “We have reason to believe that the collapse of the pocket dimension that contained New Salem was orchestrated as a way to get you out of the way.”

Agatha looks troubled. “Do you know why me, specifically?” she asks. “I’m by no means the most powerful practitioner of magic, and there are several others out there both with and without magic that would be of greater threat to him in his pursuit of what ever it is that he wants.”

“Perhaps it’s not your power that he fears,” Strange suggests, “but your knowledge.”

“How so? I was still young when he was born, so time would have done little to hinder his pursuit of knowledge, had that been the motivator behind his desire to expand his abilities.”

“I speak not of your knowledge of magic,” Strange says with a lift of his chin, “but your knowledge of him.”

Vision holds out a hand, stopping Wanda in her tracks. She glares darkly at him, a flash of anger sparking within her at being prevented from following Agatha over to where her children are huddled in the corner. “What?” she snaps.

Ice blue eyes flicker from her to Agatha and back again. “C-can we talk?” he asks, “in private?”

She huffs, glances past his shoulder. Agatha’s kneeling on the floor, coaxing the boys back into some semblance of wakefulness. She can hear the grumbled protests about being disturbed and having to move, with each groaning complaint expertly countered with mention of comfy beds, puke buckets and a movie marathon.

Assured that the boys are in good hands, she turns her to Vision. “Alright,” she agrees, “let’s take a walk.”

It’s Vision’s turn to glance back over his shoulder at Agatha. “What about the boys?” he asks.

“They’ll be fine,” she says, waving his concern away.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “You’re - you’re just going leave them alone with Agatha?”

“Yes.” She juts out her chin, dares him to challenge her. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Vision frowns, the blonde brows of his disguise drawing together over his eyes. “Yes,” he says slowly, his voice unsure. “However, at this present moment in time, you appear to place a great deal of trust in her, so I shall defer to your judgement on the matter and hope that you are correct in your assessment of her.”

It’s not the answer that she wanted to hear, but it’ll have to do, as it’s likely to be the best response she gets from him on the matter. “Thank you,” she says, with a curt nod.

Agatha frowns as they pull up outside a tall, glass-and-concrete skyscraper. The glare of the sunlight flashing from the glass prevents almost everyone from being able to see inside through the expansive collage of windows adorning every angle of every floor of the building. The door to her right swings open, and Sigmund climbs out of the vehicle, beckoning for them to follow him.

“Where are we?” she asks, unbuckling Irena’s carrier from the seat to her left and pulling it along with her as she slides from the car, the boys not far behind.

“It used to be Stark Tower,” Sigmund says. “It was decided that it’d probably be safer to move you to a more secure location in the event that Wanda’s correct about the upper eschelons of SWORD being compromised.”

She turns her frown on Sigmund. “Why here, though?”

Sigmund inclines his head with a shrug of his shoulders as he directs them towards the automatic glass doors leading into the building’s lobby. “There was mention of the fact that there's still a lot of the security technology left over from when Stark was in charge, and the fact that this place used to serve as the base for the Avengers.”

Tommy’s face lights up at the mention of the Avengers. “We get to stay in the same place as the Avengers?!” he asks, a huge, delighted grin spreading across his face. “That’s so cool!”

Sigmund looks down at Tommy with an expression that seems to say seriously?!, before lifting his gaze to Agatha’s. She shrugs - what can you do? one track mind, an' all - and sidesteps Sigmund, causing the doors to open for them. The boys bound past her and into the lobby, gaping in awe as they turn on the spot to take in the sheer scope of the space.

The lobby is two stories tall, with the three external walls that it boasts being made of glass from floor to ceiling. Natural sunlight streams in, threatening to blind anyone who looks towards these windows for too long. Slim steel gurders hold the ceiling in place, and serve to break up the monotony of the room’s appearance.

At the far end of the room, a reception desk sits against the room’s only plaster-coated wall. A door sits on either side of this desk, though there’s no signage to indicate where they may lead. A woman leans against the desk, arms folded across her chest as she looks them up and down, apparently unimpressed by what she’s seeing.

Distaste settles in the pit of Agatha’s stomach at the sight of this woman. Tall, blonde and lanky, with a sneer on her lips, she appears to have decided that she doesn’t like Agatha anymore than Agatha likes her. So, a case of dislike-on-first-sight, then.

Great.