Chapter Text
Goldenberries
“What are these?” He grinned boyishly as she handed him a scoop of her new crop.
“Goldenberries. Or, if you prefer, Peruvian groundcherries.”
“Peruvian. We’re not exactly in a tropical climate here.”
She smirked at him. “In case you hadn’t noticed, my current surroundings aren’t one hundred percent reality-based.”
“You don’t say. How do I eat these, anyway? This looks papery.”
“It’s a husk, silly. You have to take it off.”
“Ah.” Stephen peeled the husk away to reveal the amber fruit underneath. “All right, let’s give it a try.”
He’d been there for an hour already, and they’d been flying for twenty minutes. Quite literally flying, with no pretenses that they were bound by anything as mundane as the laws of physics.
They whisked through the clouds as Stephen consumed the berries, declaring them to be “only okay.” Wanda had to agree. The goldenberries weren’t her favorite crop. But she had an affection for them. The husks appealed to her; she liked the way they split apart neatly at the seams as she tore them carefully open.
Not that they were real fruit. But. If they were.
She wondered if it was worth it, keeping up this illusion. She knew what was happening underneath this idyllic, arboreal plane of fantasy: what her Darkhold-inflected subconscious was up to. She knew that, in reality, her fingers were turning sooty and her soul was calcifying and the landscape around her was scorched and barren. The clear blue sky, through which they now floated, was actually blazing red; the clouds themselves were aflame.
And for what? For what? What could she hope to gain from all of this: two children who were not truly hers?
Ah, but they ARE yours.
The enticing purr welled up from deep in her brain stem. The Darkhold speaks to me.
“Wanda? You okay?”
They were drifting now, whereas a few minutes earlier they had been turning flips and figure skating on the clouds. He caught her eye; his smile put her at ease. They were an arm’s length apart from each other. Gently, he tugged the very edge of her sleeve and gave her a slight pull back in his direction.
She allowed herself to be drawn in. His cloak, she noticed, seemed to have warmed up to her. It didn’t fight her off as she rested her hands on Stephen’s chest, nor when she slid them down to his hips. Stephen didn’t make any movements with his arms; his expression was cryptic except for the tiniest parting of his lips and a quickening of his breath.
WHAT are you doing.
Wanda pulled away from him, her breath catching in her throat.
She had allowed a demon-realm to flourish in her consciousness; it might be too late to extricate herself, but she could try. Silently, she called to the Darkhold within herself: ‘Can we just…forget it, maybe? We don’t need to…’
Fool. He’s hoodwinked you.
Your only goal is to find your children.
When did you forget this?
“Wanda, look…”
She grimaced in distress as Stephen’s voice urged her to look back at him. He hadn’t come near her again; he was simply watching her. Vulnerable, he was vulnerable and emotional and desperate for connection — and clueless about all of it. His whole thing was endearing, and it kept her in the light.
She smiled with affectionate sadness, and his eyes softened in response.
“Wanda. I see that you’re in pain. One thing I’m good at is recognizing physical pain. And you’re hurting now. There’s something inside you, causing you great discomfort.”
Wanda squeezed a tear out of her eye. Why, why, had she messed around with the Darkhold…?
Because I’m the only thing that’s useful, OBVIOUSLY.
Far more useful than this manipulative buffoon.
She clapped her hands to her ears and seethed. After a few quick breaths, she shot straight up, a few feet above him, and dropped her hands.
“I’m sorry, Stephen. It’s…” She plucked at the wisps of a nearby cloud.
“If you want to tell me about it… Look, I’m not good at comforting people, but I might be skilled at excising your pain. I don’t even know what I mean, Wanda, it’s not like you need a surgeon or that I could even be one, but—”
Wanda flew quite suddenly back down to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her body was still a bit higher than his in space; she looked down at him. “I don’t know what you mean either, but I like it.”
He stroked the lowest tendrils of her hair, stiffly at first, and then with greater ease. “You can tell me about it, you know. If you want.” His head lifted; his voice lowered.
Wanda shifted herself down through the air until her face was level with his. She rested her forehead against his own.
“I…can’t.” She let out a small sob. “I’m sorry. I want to. Maybe…” She ran her finger along his jaw. “Maybe next time. If…I mean, if you come again. You don’t have to. I need to rest now, but maybe…maybe you could come tomorrow?”
Their mouths were centimeters apart.
“Yeah,” he whispered. She could feel his breath. “Yeah, I can…I can come here tomorrow.”
With the barest of movements, she canted her head in order to bring her lips against his. The most feather-light kiss in history, probably; it thrilled and alarmed her.
After nudging her nose against his, she began her descent.
When he’d gone, she turned her attention to the Darkhold, which had been indignantly snapping at the heels of her attention.
You’re trying my patience.
She spoke aloud to it.
“It’s time to stop. We can’t take any version of Billy and Tommy away from their mother. And maybe even their father! Some of them may still have Vision in their lives… Can you imagine how cruel that would be?”
Don’t remind me of your greatest failure of imagination.
Why are you not looking for Vision, too?
Is it just because he’s not quite so easy to abduct as two trusting little lads?
Really…your lack of ambition is startlingly discouraging.
“Just stop it. Okay? Stop it. We’re done. I’m getting rid of the book.”
The physical object is irrelevant.
You know that I am a part of you now.
“That’s bullshit, you’re just trying to keep your hold over me. I’m destroying it.”
I wouldn’t do that if I were you.
“But…why? Did you…did you find something?”
See for yourself.
Wanda’s field of vision was overtaken by a series of brief but unmistakable images.
Teenage girl. Jean jacket. Wandering, wide-eyed, into…
The gap junction.
Wanda gasped. She had pushed her way into the gap junction before, but she could never get beyond them, into other universes.
Oh my god, this is what I was looking for, this girl… Her powers… If I could have them for myself…
Wanda wrenched herself away from the darkness.
“No… She’s just a child herself! Barely older than my boys. I can’t…”
Oh, Wanda. Can’t you?
Apples
As he approached her, Stephen’s heart was hopping around giddily in a way that disconcerted and delighted him. He could still feel the brush of her lips against his. He didn’t know what the hell they might be doing, but whatever it was, he wanted more of it.
But no, no, something was very wrong. His senses worked in phases: a bitter taste in his mouth, the smell of sulfur, a grating sound like the rough scraping of a violin bow diagonally across a string.
The berry bushes were gone; the apple trees were back, as though her magic had grown too weary to come up with something novel. The weather was balmy as ever, but the breeze was picking up, and the sun…
The sun was red.
Wanda herself was leaning with one hand against a tree, clearly wracked with conflict. He took lengthy, brisk strides to reach her, trying to quell his fear.
“Wanda. What is it? Can you…tell me?” Take her pulse, said his doctor-brain, but she was beyond such commonplace measures of assistance.
“Stephen… I’m not… I’m not a good person.” She opened her mouth to speak more, but something was stopping her.
“It’s okay, don’t force it,” he said, shaking his head. “Whatever you’ve begun, Wanda, it’s not too late to stop it. How can I help you?”
The nearest apple tree went up in flames, crisping itself to charred ash.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“I know, I know you don’t. I believe you.”
“Stephen, the Darkhold…”
“Yeah, I thought so. It’s okay. It’s not too late. We can get it away from you. What’s been your method of study; have you been doing astral projections?”
“Yes, I… Stephen, I think it’s fixed too deep inside me, I don’t think we can get it out…” Her knees buckled; her breathing became faster.
Stephen caught her and knelt as he helped her sit on a fallen log. Another tree set itself ablaze and a fissure opened up in the pastoral scene, allowing a red-black mist to seep through and sully the air they were breathing.
“It’s okay. You’re stronger than the Darkhold. Try to reconnect with your astral projection. Can you feel it? It should be right at the edge of your consciousness..."
“It’s no use, Stephen. The Darkhold's too embedded.”
“Wanda, listen, you can do this. Sure, you’re not good, but you’re not bad, either; you’re just like anyone else. Just like me, for sure. And you can release the Darkhold’s influence on you. You haven’t done anything wrong yet. You—”
She rounded on him, quite suddenly. “Are you part of the team who’s trying to exploit me?”
“What?! No, no! No one’s coming for you, no one wants to exploit you…”
“Why not? They should. I hold more power than any of you. Why doesn’t anyone want to destroy me or steal my powers? Stephen, I don’t believe you…this whole thing, it’s all been a lie, you’re manipulating me—”
“Wanda, please, no!” Stephen took her face in his hands. “Wanda, I…I care about you…”
Her eyes glowed red and she slapped his hands away. “Liar. You don’t know how to feel. You said so yourself.”
“No, Wanda, I’m pretty sure I said I’m not warm, but I do know how to feel! My feelings have destroyed universes, just like yours could, Wanda… And now, I think I might feel—”
“Don’t say it.”
Wanda sprang up with ferocity, rising up into the air. Within the space of a single blink, reality completely fractured: the apple orchard was gone, replaced by a parched wasteland of red and black and necrosis. Everything was dead, burned, and hopeless.
Stephen stood up, shaking his head, as Wanda floated a few feet above him, now clad in a red gown and a dark, patterned headpiece.
The Scarlet Witch…she truly is.
He made no move against her. He held out his hands, palms up.
“Wanda? It’s okay. You’re okay. You can still come back. Here…come.”
There were tears in her otherwise unreadable eyes. Slowly, she floated down. Her hands hovered an inch above his, and he felt the palpable force of her energy field.
She looked into his eyes, mystifyingly neutral in her affect. And she spoke: “Come with me.” She grabbed his hand.
Flying, twisting, compressing…
This was nothing like traveling through a portal.
And then they were… where?
Destabilization reigned. Apple trees splintered off into infinite fractals, overtaken by nebulous purples and pinks and colors he’d never seen. They floated; they spun. Shards of every element in their universe crashed together with flakes of the antipodal elements of another.
We are…between universes.
I didn’t know she could do that.
Before he could even grow accustomed to his new surroundings, he saw that there was another inhabitant of the gap junction: a girl, a teenager. She looked young, scared, and far too energetic and hopeful.
She spied them immediately. Her eyes widened and she took a few steps toward them. Stephen felt bewildered; how could she be so trusting?
Wanda stepped forward, toward the girl. “Hello. America, right? America Chavez?”
“Y-yes! How do you know my name? Do you know my moms? Are you here to rescue me?”
This girl — America — sounded younger than her years. Stephen’s stomach lurched as he fought back his fear. No. No, he trusted Wanda, and he knew that she wouldn’t hurt the girl.
Wanda looked back at Stephen, her expression challenging. Daring him to stop her, to attack her, to open a portal underneath her and send her to Hell.
Stephen gave her one simple nod. I trust you. You can do this.
Wanda turned back to America. Stephen watched the back of Wanda’s head as she took a few tentative steps. And then she spoke.
“We…we don’t know your moms, I’m sorry. But if you trust us…we can help you.”
Wanda’s struggle was all too evident, even without seeing her face. Her shoulders shook; her darkened fingertips shot out red sparks. She was aching to snatch up the girl, to commit whatever deeds the Darkhold was telling her to do.
Instead, she inhaled and exhaled, and became quite still, quite calm. A layer of dark, phosphorescent magic shed itself from her body. Her shoulders relaxed, with deliberate intensity.
Her voice broke as she spoke again.
“I’m a mom who…lost my kids. I know what you must be going through; it’s so hard, and it must be all the lonelier for you as you wander the cosmos like this. America, I’m very powerful. Maybe I…maybe I can help you find your family.”
America’s eyes looked suddenly wary. “I feel like this is the part where I’m supposed to say I don’t go off with strangers.”
“America?” Wanda looked back at Stephen, directly into his eyes. “You can trust me.” She looked back to America.
America smiled. “People don’t usually notice me. No one’s ever offered to help me before. If you’re serious, I…I could honestly use a nice rest.”
Wanda’s shoulders gave a little shake. The decadence of her outfit flickered away; she was now clad in a simple red shift dress and a wooden headband. She stumbled a bit, looking faint. Stephen was at her side in moments. They held onto each other’s forearms; he was merely steadying her, giving her no more support than she absolutely required.
“Stephen…you’ll take her, right? Will you take her to the Sanctum, and keep her safe? If I almost used her in this way, somebody else will try to, too. Please. Please, keep her safe, and find her parents…”
“Me? I’m… I’m not good at…”
“Yes you are, you idiot. You’ll be wonderful with her.”
“Wanda.” He gripped her arms tightly. “You’re coming, too. You’re coming with us.”
She shook her head slowly, sorrowfully. “No…no, I need to destroy the Darkhold. Its essence has taken root in me. If I jump…if I lose myself in the gap junction, the Darkhold will be destroyed with me, and no one can ever be corrupted by it again.”
Trying to quash his panic, Stephen caressed her wrists, making sure not to hold her too tightly. “America? Come here.” He kept hold of Wanda, but motioned with his head to the girl. She trotted over, eyes wide with concern.
“Is she okay?” America asked, peering at Wanda, whose eyes were squeezed shut.
“Yeah, kid, she’ll be fine. Just hop through this portal, okay?” He opened a portal one-handed as he held Wanda steady with the other hand. “Ask for a guy named Wong, and tell him Strange said to give you a cup of tea.” He opened a portal for her to the London Sanctum, where Wong was at the moment.
“Your name is…Strange?!”
“You’ll get used to it. Now hop through. It’s okay, it’s safe.”
America smiled at him, then gave Wanda a pat on the arm.
Wanda waited until America had passed through the portal before she broke down, sobbing in Stephen’s arms. “Let me go…let me go, okay?”
“Wanda, I’m not holding you.”
“Oh.”
“Wanda…we can get the Darkhold out of you, I know we can.”
“How? It’s too late for me…”
“It’s not! Just think about your deepest self, who you are, the real you…”
“But the real me has done bad things, too, I don’t know if I can come back from that—”
“You can! Wanda…” He took a full step away from her, backwards, hands raised so she knew she was free to make her own choice. “The extraction doesn’t have to be brutal or violent. Nothing, no one needs to be destroyed. Just…step away from it, and leave it behind.”
Wanda stood on the precipice, the edge of the tangible. She could fall off at any moment, into the chaos, lost to him, and to the world, when she had so much to offer…
And then she made her choice. She simply took a step backwards, and the Darkhold floated in front of her, emerging from an unknown void within her soul. She gave it a gentle push, and it disintegrated into nothingness.
She stumbled back, falling to the slanted, ever-shifting ground.
Unimaginable relief warred with concern inside Stephen; he had no idea what she would do now. He didn’t want to move toward or away from her…
“Please go, Stephen,” she said.
“Do you want me to…?”
“Go after her. Make sure she’s okay. Just…go, please.”
Stephen had never felt so helpless. Surely she just needed some time to think, but…but what if she…
There was nothing else he could do or say. He suddenly felt very much like his usual self, the one that had nothing helpful to offer to anyone, nothing of comfort. The one that people frequently said was an unmitigated asshole.
“Okay.” Abruptly, he cast a portal and left for the London Sanctum, leaving Wanda to her own devices in a realm of insubstantiality.
Tea
Two weeks, she estimated, it would have been about two weeks that Wanda spent away from him. Away from everyone. Away from herself.
She rather liked the gap junction. The newness of the multiverse appealed to her; she felt its excitement as it stretched and expanded, branching before her eyes. She couldn’t enter other universes, not without America’s powers, but she could view them as a detached observer.
She watched quite a few different versions of her family. Sometimes Vision was there, sometimes not. In a few universes, Wanda had ended up with White Vision. This was unappealing to her; she’d met White Vision, and they'd had a pleasant conversation, but… he wasn’t the same.
She even found a universe in which Billy and Tommy were orphaned — no Wanda, no Vision. Occasionally they had nightmares; they woke at night crying out for her.
But in that universe, Pietro was still alive. And he was the best uncle, the best guardian they could have hoped for. Despite the nightmares, the children were happy. Pietro, her dear Pietro, was happy and alive. Her boys were at peace; they had already processed her loss.
It would be destabilizing for them, were she to intrude.
When she was assured of the safety of all versions of her boys — all the ones she could locate — she toured around for a while, looking in on all the oddest universes she could find. The paint, of course, was fascinating, as was the universe in which all living creatures were made of inorganic material. She met a fellow traveler, someone named Sylvie, and they shared a companionable few hours watching a five-dimensional universe together, before parting ways. Sylvie offered to take Wanda with her on her own multiversal search; Wanda politely declined. She got the sense that Sylvie wanted to be alone anyway.
Her favorite universes were the quiet ones. Life forms, to be sure, but not too many — not enough to have developed a need for war and pillaging. She prayed that this was the permanent state of these universes. That the little mites would not evolve into creatures that were destined to destroy and maim each other’s bodies and hearts.
Even so, the time came when she longed for her messy, evolved universe in all its sorrow and complexity.
Love, persevering.
I still feel you, Vis.
You okay with this?
It’s okay. I know you are.
As Wanda re-entered her own universe (the only one available to her), her eyes were pierced by the light of the sun. She readjusted; she shifted her weight around, getting used to the slightly altered level of gravity.
Stephen was at Kamar-Taj, apparently, because that’s where her magic led her. She stood outside, making sure she wanted to enter.
“How is this so much harder than multiversal travel?!”
Stephen chuckled as he helped America adjust the positioning of her arms as she attempted to cast her portal. “You just need to slow down and be patient. Relax, it’ll come.”
“Easy for you to say!”
“And someday, easy for you to do.”
Stephen turned to see Wong at his side. “She reminds me of another student I knew,” Wong remarked drily. Stephen flicked his eyebrows up and down and continued his observations with Wong at his side. “How are you feeling?” Wong asked.
“Why do you ask?”
Wong gave him a long look. “You haven’t heard from her in two weeks. Are you concerned?”
“Oh. Well. She’s just doing what she needs to do.”
“You don’t think she’s…”
“Oh, no. She’s not dead. I’m sorcerer enough to know that. I may never see her again, but I know that she’s found…some sort of peace. And that’s just fine with me. I’m not exactly one for attachments, you know.”
“Pff. Sure you’re not.”
“What? I’m not. And even if I were…well, I have no idea where she is, so…whatever.”
Wong raised his eyebrows. “Um…I know where she is.”
“Well, aren’t you just the lucky one. Benefits of being the Sorcerer Supreme, I suppose. Which power do you possess today that I am so embarrassingly lacking?”
“I possess the power of facing the door when you’re not facing the door.” Wong nodded in the direction of the entryway to the training area.
Stephen didn’t turn around at first. He knew that his face was giving him away, try as he might not to look like a giddy schoolboy.
Whatever. Wong knew him too well by this point.
“Is my hair okay?” he asked.
Wong rolled his eyes. “Just go to her.”
Stephen turned around. Slowly. Deliberately. With a hopeful hesitancy that he hadn’t felt since his first date with Christine.
And maybe… maybe with even more humility than he’d had back then.
Yes, almost certainly more humility.
Wanda. She was leaning up against a pillar near the entrance. He ascended the steps and left the hubbub of the training yard behind him.
Their smiles mirrored each other. Neither spoke for a few long moments. They simply basked in their mutual happiness to see each other.
Eventually, he forced himself to speak first.
“You okay?” Painfully inadequate, but it was all he could muster.
She nodded. “I am. I’ve had lots of time to think and…wander.” She looked over to the spot where America was training. “She’s doing well.”
“How kind of you. She’s not. But she’s doing better than I did when I first began.” He grinned. “I like her. Thanks for finding her. She’s a great addition to the team.”
Wanda’s expression darkened. “I ‘found’ her with an ulterior motive.”
“A motive that you chose not to act on.” They were drifting further into the shadows, away from the sight of prying eyes. He put out his hand and she took it readily. He turned her palm over and ran his fingers along the valleys in her palm. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and watched him trace the seam of her wrist, an anticipatory smile playing about her lips.
“Why do you trust me?” she asked. There was no hint of a threat behind it; it was a simple question.
“I don’t have a great answer for that. It simply…is. I simply do. Maybe it’s our similarities, or maybe it’s just pure instinct. I trust you…” He slid his finger up to the underside of her elbow; she caught her breath. “I enjoy you…” He ran his finger up her arm, over her shoulder, up her neck; she leaned into him and took a micro-step closer. “I like you…” He brushed her lips with his thumb.
They were only inches apart. This was as far as he would go. His hand began to float away from her.
She caught his hand and pulled it back to her lips, kissing the knuckle of his thumb. She held his hand close, catching the other one, and pulled them closer, closer together.
“And why do you trust me?” he asked, and then quickly his face grew pale. “I mean…assuming you do trust me… You know, you probably shouldn’t. If anything happened between us I’d probably just be an asshole like everyone says I am—”
“God, you are so much easier to read than the Darkhold, because I know you know that’s not true anymore.” Wanda’s eyes were on fire even as her lips twitched in fond amusement, and she wrapped one of her arms around his neck as the other hand came to his face, and her lips crashed into his.
At first, he was only conscious of the physical realities at play. He had to help hold her up, since she was on tiptoe. His arms had come to rest on the small of her back. Their noses brushed together.
They fit together.
And as he readjusted his position, deepening the kiss, his barriers came crumbling down and he felt a wholeness that he would never have admitted he yearned for. Never, until now.
When she finally broke the kiss, there were tears in her eyes. He had the instinct to tell himself that he was no good at this and didn’t know what to do with a crying woman, but these were lies and he knew it. He kissed her eyes and then the center of her forehead. He didn’t ask her anything, or offer anything. He simply took her in his arms and allowed her to rock, nestle, and exist.
Her existence meant everything to him.
“I like you, too,” she muttered into his shirt.
She pulled back from him and they took hands, letting their arms swing gently back and forth.
“What do you think?” he asked, gazing out at the training grounds. “Shall we learn from each other?”
Wanda considered this. “Sounds like a plan. But first, I think I’d like a cup of tea.”
Stephen squeezed her hand. “I think we can manage that.”
She nodded; her smile was radiant. “We can manage anything.”