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Wanda feels her whole world crashing around her. It bears down hard in the form of pressure on her skull, a threat: fix the crack in her reality, or else. Quite literally, the world she created for the sole purpose of allowing her to be happy for once in her life is being torn down brick by brick from the outside in. This knowledge is suffocating her.
Vision knows. He’s yelling. He’s never yelled before. Wanda isn’t frightened. Vision could never frighten her, but she certainly doesn’t know how to take his anger. The only way she can think is to argue back, to try desperately to make him understand that she’s doing this for him, for them, because they never got the chance before he was ripped away because of her.
Their children can probably hear them. Their children. This much Wanda knows is real. Those children are flesh and blood, from her body. Even the new reality she’s trying to fashion can’t dispute that fact. As they grow, Wanda can no longer seem to control their awareness. They say such bizarre things, things that they shouldn’t know at their age. They know things about Wanda that she knows she’s never said aloud, and much less aloud to them.
Wanda drops back to the floor. The red glow in her eyes and around her fingertips disappears when she remembers her children. They were so devastated about Sparky, completely oblivious to their parents' argument through their grief. At their age, the broken-heartedness must feel unbearable. She knows unbearable pain, and that is something she will ensure her sons never have to experience. Never.
The floodgates within her open and all of a sudden Wanda loses her footing and catches herself against the couch. It was like something drained all of her energy and adrenaline in one fell swoop.
Vision, still very clearly furious but concerned about his wife, places a hand on the small of her back for support. It is incredibly unlike her to back down from an argument. “Wanda, are you okay?”
Wanda waves him away, still doubled over on the couch and heaving in breath. “I don’t know what happened, but一”
Their children run inside, huge smiles illuminating their faces. Behind them, a little bundle of brown and white fur trying to keep pace on his little legs. “Mom, daddy, look!” Tommy says, screeching to a stop and twisting to present Sparky. Sparky sits obediently, tongue hanging out of his mouth. “We were getting ready to bury him in the backyard when all of a sudden he came back to life!”
Billy nods enthusiastically, “Yeah, maybe Miss Agnes was wrong and he was just sleeping! Because look, Sparky is all right!”
Wanda still feels weak, but something like panic sends her spine straight. “Excuse me?” The dog was very, very, dead when Agnes handed it to her an hour before. Stiff, cool, dead. And Wanda knows that she can’t bring anyone or anything back to life. That’s just not within her capability as much as she wanted it to be. There would be so many people she’d bring back, but it’s simply not possible.
“Didn’t you hear me, mom? Look, Sparky! Can we still keep him?” Tommy says, and as if on cue, the dog lifts his front legs and begs at her with big brown eyes.
Wanda manages to find her breath somehow. “I see that, Tommy.” She says. She’s not sure what else to say. “Well…” she looks at Vision, who looks just as stunned as she feels. “Well, then, go give him a bath. He must be smelly.” She wrinkles her nose at his smell, which is sickly sweet like the azalea bushes that killed him.
The boys don’t seem to smell it, though, and scoop up the dog and retreat upstairs to the bathroom where they dissolve into childish giggling and slam the bathroom door. Wanda doesn’t even have the energy to scold them for slamming the door.
“That dog was dead.” Vision says bluntly.
“Yes, Vis, I know.” Wanda snaps back. She didn’t mean to snap. But she also isn’t used to being surprised, especially not here.
“That dog is no longer dead.”
“I know, Vision!” She whips around. A mistake, because she feels woozy and leans back against the couch. What did she do? She presses a hand to her temple and massages, a sinking feeling dropping into her stomach. A few long moments, “I think I did it.”
“Wanda… what?” Vision takes a step away from her.
“I don’t know, I… I was thinking about how, how I’d never let them feel grief like I’ve felt, never, and… and then there was the dog.” She is met with an expression that was equally as horrified as it was impressed. She always knew that Vision was so much more human than the rest of them ever believed.
“You can’t do that.”
“Well, I just did, so what do you want from me?” Wanda’s already fragile cool splinters.
Vision looks like he’s about to respond when there’s a knock at the door. No one should be calling at this time of night. Vision exchanges a look with his wife, which she returns warily. She shakes her head as if to insist she can’t do this, not tonight.
Another knock, more persistent this time. Wanda takes a deep breath, pushes herself away, and trudges to the door. She stands in front of it for a long time, trying to find the energy to turn the handle.
Another knock. Finally, after an eternity passes, she pulls the door open.
What she sees before her should make her knees buckle, but it doesn’t. This time, the shock keeps her rooted in place, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It’s like she keeps trying to say something, anything, but her voice skims out before she can manage a word.
“I know, I know, too handsome for words.” He says. His accent is gone. That’s weird, right? She can’t quite think straight.
Wanda can’t help the tears that pool in her eyes. There he is, right there in front of her. His hair is a dusty silver, brown in the roots. Wanda is secretly relieved it’s growing back in brown. His skin, pockmarked with acne scars from when he refused to look after himself as a teenager, and the brunette scruff along his jawline and lip that he always tried to pass off as a beard. Those piercing blue eyes that Wanda always noticed were nothing like hers. Maybe they used to be, before the… She can’t remember anymore. But it doesn’t really matter, not if she’s not dreaming. Yes, it’s him. She’s not dreaming. This is her reality. It’s… “Pietro?”
“You can talk. I was worried there for a minute. Come here.” He pulls her across the threshold of the home, wrapping her in his arms and enveloping her in his smell. Wanda has to bite back a sob of relief because he even smells the same. She never got to see him after… She always felt like she could taste the sharp tang of blood whenever she said his name, or smell the gasoline from the Quinjet that took his life all those years ago. But no, he smells like neither of those things. He smelled of the musky cologne that Wanda hated, but that he always wore because he thought it would make him more attractive to the American tourists.
He releases Wanda, pushing her back over the threshold of the home and inviting himself in. “Red hair! I like it.” He says, taking in the house. “This place is kind of retro, though, sis, don’t you think?” His gaze finally falls on Vision, so stunned that he didn’t even have time to transform back into his human disguise. A flash of recognition dashes across Pietro’s face, “I remember you.” He says, but the tone of his voice is neither approving nor disapproving. It is decidedly neutral, which strikes Wanda as odd as well. This feeling of unease disappears quickly. Nothing can nor will distract her from the fact that her brother is alive and standing in front of her. Not even not knowing how it happened can dampen her mood.
Pietro turns away from Vision and back to Wanda. “Sorry for dropping in unannounced.”
Wanda shakes her head, smiling. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I’m just so” surprised “glad to see you. Please, come through.” She offers him a seat on the sofa. “I’ll just get the boys.”
“Boys?” Pietro asks.
“Oh, yes, Billy and Tommy. Your nephews.” Wanda replies and is caught off guard by how offhandedly she says it. She stands at the base of the stairs cupping her hand around her mouth before calling out to her sons.
“Boys, come downstairs! I’ve got someone for you to meet!”
There is clamoring down the stairs and the yap of a dog as the twins race each other down the stairs. They stop on the landing, seeing the unfamiliar head of silver hair. Wanda offers for them to come down into the living room. “Boys, meet your Uncle Pietro.”
They’re immediately drawn to Pietro like a fish to water. Wanda watches from a distance. She never thought she would get to see this day, not with her brother.
Tommy sits next to Pietro on the couch. “You know that mommy said you were very far away and she couldn’t see you? It made her sad. I’m glad you’re here now, so she can be happy again.” Pietro glances back up at his sister. “I like it when she’s happy, too, buddy.”
Wanda’s heart feels like it could burst with happiness. She can’t even remember what she and vision were fighting about earlier. Were they even fighting in the first place? She can’t remember. It doesn’t matter anymore, though, not when Pietro is here.
Vision touches Wanda’s elbow, forcing her to look at her husband.
Vision notices her smile. It’s big and stupid, and entirely fake. But he can also tell she doesn’t think it is. It’s so big it almost feels like a grimace. He knows she is in pain. He doesn't know who this man is. He knows that he’s someone very special to Wanda. She is putting herself through torture… But Vision loves her so much that he can’t bear to tear her away from it, not yet. “What’s up, Vis?” She asks with that dumb smile.
Vision hesitates, before, “Nothing, dear.”
They turn back to look at the scene unfolding in front of them, as Wanda feels happiness so strong she can barely contain it, and Vision feels anxiety so deep, he has to swallow it in case it bubbles up and out of his mouth.