Progress

They’re back in Central Park. The weather’s nice, though it’s a little cooler than it’d been the last time they were here.

Vision had wanted to join them on the trip to the building formerly known as Stark Tower, to speak with her there, but Wanda had refused. He’d already turned up at one of their supposedly ‘safe’ houses, and though she trusts him enough to know her general whereabouts, she finds herself prickling with unease that he could know her exact location. There’s just something about the way he’s been acting since Westview that makes her want to keep him at arm’s length, especially in regards to where it is that she lays her head.

“You do not trust me,” Vision says, settling at last upon blunt honesty as the best policy for getting the answers he wishes to have.

Wanda opens her mouth, ready to protest, only to stop when he looks down at her with crystal clear, ice blue eyes. Instead, she sighs, and looks away, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket as they continue to plod along the path. “Not like I used to, no,” she admits.

“What brought you to this position?”

Wanda blinks. “You mean, what made me not trust you anymore?” Vision nods in confirmation. She purses her lips, hums as she considers her answer. A young girl darts across the path before them, squealing as she flees from a similarly aged boy - perhaps her brother, or a cousin? - with mud-covered hands outstretched towards her. Wanda smiles at the sight, thinks that perhaps, that could be her children one day. Would Agatha be interested in having more children? she wonders silently.

“Wanda?”

She blinks, sees curling wisps of red magic dancing along the edges of the path before them. A flick of her fingers disperses the magic into the grass, and she flushes as she glances left and right, hoping that her slip up hadn’t been seen by anyone other than Vision. No ones staring at them though, and it appears they’ve gone unnoticed.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, “got distracted.”

Vision cocks his head, studying her. “By the children?”

She ducks her head, nods.

“What were you thinking about?”

Wanda lifts her shoulder, a little embarrassed that she’s not only been caught, but that she’s so easy to read. “I was just thinking that could be my kids some day, and . . .” she hesitates, wonders if she should admit this to Vision before she’s even had a chance to talk to Agatha about it.

“And what?” Vision prompts, pressing for more.

Wanda bites down on her bottom lip. “I-I was just wondering if Agatha would be interested in having another kid with me.”

Vision bows his head, seems to deflate. “The time and place for us had passed, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.” She studies him as he continues to walk at her side, sees how sadness permeates the fine features of the disguise he wears. “You hoped it hadn’t.”

He nods, short and sharp. “I held onto the belief that we may be able to return to what we had once had, even if it was indeed the unlikely scenario that I considered it to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. Time has passed since we last loved each other as husband and wife, and in that time, we have become different people. I am not as I was before, much as you are not as you were before, and in that, we have perhaps lost what it meant for us to love one another. I . . . I find that I cannot fault you for that.”

“It - it’s not your fault, either, Vis. As you said, time changes us.”

He smiles at her with sad eyes. “Yet, you are still kind.”

She ducks her head, red hair falling across her face. “I try to be.”

Thornn dabs at the gashes on his half-sister’s throat, scraping away the dried and congealed blood that’s gathered there. They’d fled from SWORD HQ in the moments after they’d been thrown from the conference room, and they now sit in a dingy alleyway several streets away, hidden from view by the large, industrial-sized waste bins that sit between them and the road. It’d been too risky to stay where they were once suspicion had been cast upon them in regards to their loyalty - hence why he’s now tending to Vertigo’s self-inflicted wounds with a bucket of questionably clean water and a small first aid kit that he’d pilfered from an office on their way out of the building.

“We may have to get dad to bring his plans forwards if we want them to be successful,” he says softly, pressing yet another piece of gauze into place against Vertigo’s neck as he reaches for the tape that’ll pin the fabric in place. “If we’re not fast enough, they might work out a way to stop us.”

“No!” Vertigo almost shrieks, the muscles in her neck flexing anxiously beneath his fingers. Spots of blood begin to stain the lengths of gauze already attached to her neck, with sluggish streaks beginning to ooze anew in the general direction of the collar of her stolen army fatigues - ‘cause Lord knows they weren’t actually going to join the military for this one mission - once again. She grabs at his jaw, forces his head up until he’s looking her square in the eye. “We’re so close, brother,” she says, her voice now a cool, chilly growl that makes him want to recoil away from her in fear. “I’ve already had to put Elle down for threatening to expose everything, and I will not hesitate to do the same to you if you dare to derail all that’s been done so far.”

“But, they know about us now!” he protests.

“No,” she answers with a scowl, “they think they know about us. Don’t forget, we’ve still got a man on the inside, and there are more of us than they know about.”

Thornn bares his teeth, nostrils flaring as he puffs out a hissing huff. “Fine,” he growls, “I won’t play with your precious plans. Now, sit still - you’ll be of no use to anyone if you’re dead from blood loss.”

She releases him with a grumble, and sits back against the tree stump that’s propped up on its side behind her.