The 50s
The 50s
Agatha Harkness agreed to come to a Westview funeral.
Wanda Maximoff had eagerly knocked on her door one morning, asking to accompany her to this function. Saying one of her husband’s colleagues died of a heart attack. The redhead is visibly fidgeting on her doorstep, no doubt feeling small for asking a favor from her newfound friend. The older witch took pity on her prey for wanting so much to fit in with these humans that she said yes. She has an inkling this little witch will flounder at social gatherings and she can’t wait to watch.
That’s how she found herself in the funeral service of a Mr. Jonathan Irving.
Wearing a black lace tea-length dress, she looked more modest than most of the attendees. As the two ladies come up to meet the widowed wife - because everyone in Westview is happily married - the brunette stops in her tracks. Wanda shot her a curious look so they continued walking. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder how unfortunate all of this is.
It was you.
Standing in the chapel entrance is a person Agatha had known so well. She recognizes your figure, your stance, and your unmistakable face. Your face with puffy red eyes and sadness all over it. She wonders what are you doing in this place. Why Westview? And since when? The last time she saw you were before the Blip.
You were stunning in your lace black dress that was partnered with your lace gloves and a ring on your left hand. The pearls adorning your neck completed the ensemble, making you stand out. Agatha smiled to herself, remembering that you always dress to kill even before Westview.
Wanda approached you and you shot her a weak smile. Her neighbor offered her condolences and that’s when it hit her - you’re the widowed wife. You and Wanda made small talk while Agatha simply watched.
“Yes, Vision is already inside,” she hears you reply to Wanda’s question. Your voice sounds so tired like it has cried for a long time. The young housewife turned to her friend and introduced her.
“[y/n], this is Agnes.” Your gaze landing on the brunette. Agatha did not miss how your face turned sour when you looked at her. Do you remember her? “Agnes, this is Mrs. [Y/N] Irving.”
You shook her hand firmly, almost crushingly. You offered her a smile, that the witch knows is so forced but is given out of courtesy. Are you lucid? It seems like you’re mad at her and she can’t fathom why. One thing is for sure, Agatha can’t let you destroy her plans.
Agatha insisted on staying with you when Wanda went inside to meet up with her husband. You diverted your attention away, obviously avoiding her.
“Have I done something wrong?” She broke the silence.
You glared at her and without missing a beat replied, “I don’t know. Have you slept with my husband?”
Agatha was taken aback. She was now sure that you’re under Wanda’s spell. Whatever hard feelings you have is because of this storyline you’re following, and not because she broke your heart six years ago.
“No.”
You let out a sigh, your face softening once again. “I’m sorry.” You reached out to touch her arm. “It’s been a very long day for me.”
She stepped closer to you, rubbing circles on your back. “It’s alright, darling.” Agatha wondered for a brief second whether she should strike up a friendship with you in this situation. It would be easy since she knows you already. On the other hand, you were once special to her and she doesn’t want to hurt you anymore. She looked at your grief-stricken face and she couldn't help but melt. She loved you once and she’ll be damned if she allowed you to get hurt, especially by Wanda. “You can tell me all about it.”
You looked up to her, surprised at the different nature of the conversation. All day, everyone’s been saying sorry and condolences. It can get tiring. This woman in front of you just offered to talk about what has been bothering you; it feels like a weight has been lifted.
“Do you see the two brunettes standing near the coffee cups?” You tilted your head towards the inside of the chapel, full of people all dressed in black too.
Agatha followed your line of sight and found two young ladies, possibly in their twenties, chatting each other up. They’re both dark-haired, dark-stained lips, and wearing modest-looking black dresses. She can see the resemblance between the two of them and her .
“What about them, hon?”
“Well, I found one of them on top of my husband and the other one is sporting a very expensive ruby necklace from him.”
The older woman gasped. How could anyone cheat on you? In your four-year relationship with her, she has never looked at another person other than you. You were caring, thoughtful, and passionate. You were all she could ask of.
“And I looked like them.” You nodded at her realization, still feeling embarrassed for assuming she was one of them. “Don’t worry, honey. If I were to cheat with anyone, it would be with you, not with him.” Agatha punctuated the statement with a wink causing a shade to form in your cheek.
“Thank you,” you said more of a question. You giggled at her insinuation and continued, “ I don’t know why but that means a lot.”
Agatha placed her hands on your waist and pulled herself closer to you. The magical being has to remind herself this is just her protecting you from Wanda. She won’t fall, not again.
“Why don’t we go inside and show all of them you’re the true gem and not those rubies?” Your smile got wider and you walked with her inside. It feels so right. Like everything is falling into place.
As you walk with her, she can’t help but remember all your moments together. The way you would wake up each morning with a smile on your face. Or how you would ask her to just stay in bed for the day. She would decline your request every time.
Agatha was saddened with how things worked out with the two of you. She believed you'd met her at the wrong time. Standing in this sitcom world, she can’t help but wonder if this is her second chance. After all, it’s always a happy ending until the next episode.