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[4]
Wanda starts confiding in America here. Tommy was the naughtier one, she tells America. He was kind of like my brother was. Billy was also mischievous, but in a different way. He was quieter, like my husband.
In the time she has spent wandering through the multiverse, America has learned to be observant. She knows, broadly, who Billy and Tommy are, and that Wanda’s search for them is the entire reason they are on this trip to begin with. But Wanda’s voice is weary when she describes her brother and husband in the past tense, and America doesn’t have to guess why.
Wanda runs her magical locator checks before turning to America and shaking her head. She looks disheartened. It’s an expression America’s seen often enough in herself when the search for her own mothers gets too difficult.
“Well,” America says instead of attempting to offer comfort. “This universe has flying cars. Do you want to check them out?”
[10]
In this universe, pizza is served in the form of burritos, but money works the same as it did in Wanda’s universe. She manages to buy two from a burrizzeria, pepperoni for America and margherita for herself, and they sit down at a park bench. Everyone in this New York can apparently fly, and America watches them whiz through the sky as she chews.
“How did you know to summon me?” she asks Wanda. “You said the Darkhold told you I existed.”
Wanda is quiet for a moment. “I dreamwalked and located you,” she finally admits. “Then I used a multiversal summoning spell. Both forbidden arts, dark magic. Once I had done it, I knew I couldn’t keep going down that path.” She looks across the park, where families mill around, parents floating above the ground watching over their children. “I went too far once before, and I told myself I wouldn’t do it again.”
“So that’s why we’re doing this search analog?” America teases.
“Weren’t you already doing it analog?” Wanda replies. “Only difference is you have me to kick ass for you.”
That makes America snort. “I haven’t seen you kick ass yet. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead weight.”
Wanda gasps. “You take that back. I can fight.”
“All I’ve seen you do is stand around and wave your hands, lady.”
“I’ll have you know I was trained by some of Earth’s greatest fighters.”
“Surely not Strange.”
Wanda laughs. She doesn’t do it often, so America considers it an achievement when she does. “Not him, no.”
[11]
“Run!” America screams, fleeing the tentacle monster.
Not far behind her, Wanda whirls around, casting balls of fire at the creature. They land but it seems unfazed, letting out a noisy shriek and leaping towards them. Wanda’s hands move quickly, creating a barrier that shields. The creature bounces and lands on its tentacles not far from them.
America rushes forward. She lands two sure blows below the creature’s singular eye, stunning it, before leaping away. Wanda takes the opening to hurl magically sharpened rocks at its eye. Her aim is true, and the creature collapses, extradimensional blood leaking from its eye socket.
“Okay,” America gasps, her hands on her knees. “You can kick ass.”
Wanda’s smile is sharp. “Told you so. Now get us out of here.”
[15]
Wanda’s brother – Pietro – is alive in this one. She hasn’t mentioned much of him to America, and America doesn’t know how long ago or how he died, but it’s obvious the wound is still raw. The most America can say is that he doesn’t really look much like Wanda: he’s solidly built where she is slender, hair a stark white against her darker tresses. But their accents are similar, a hint of Eastern Europe that appears during moments of more intense emotion.
He’s with his wife and a daughter, both lovely women with shimmering yellow hair. Pietro’s wife’s name is Crystal. From their vantage point around the corner from the family, America watches Wanda search the little girl’s face – for traces of her brother’s face or her own, for maybe their father’s forehead or their mother’s ears, America doesn’t know.
“Come along, Iryna,” the woman calls, and the little girl follows. “Your aunt is waiting.”
America watches Wanda watch Pietro laugh.
“Let’s go,” Wanda says, her voice brittle.
“Do you…want to try and find your other version here first?”
Wanda shakes her head, strawberry blonde tresses moving left and right. “No.”
[16]
“Iryna was our mother’s name,” Wanda says softly. “Our father’s name was Olek. We lost them…both when we were around eight.”
“My moms’ names are Elena and Amalia,” America replies, because it feels right. “I don’t remember that much else about them. But they were really kind.”
“They must have been,” Wanda replies. “Look how you turned out.”
America doesn’t tell Wanda that her mothers have gone too long, that she thinks the only thing she has kept of them is her heritage: her name and face. That perhaps the search for them has overtaken them as parents, as people.
[23]
“Tony Stark?” America says, pointing to a giant face on a billboard.
Wanda clicks her tongue. “It seems he survived in this world,” she says. She makes the two of them invisible and levitates them closer to the building she names as Stark Tower. On one of the balconies a party is ongoing, a group of people milling around and laughing as music plays.
Happy Anniversary to Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, the banner on the wall says.
America recognizes this universe’s Strange and this universe’s Wanda. He looks the same, standing with arms crossed off to the side, but with a lopsided smile on his face. She has darker hair and is standing next to a robotic-looking man and a muscular blond man. Tony Stark is bringing out a giant cake, and she claps delightedly. Also, happy 100th birthday, Bucky, the icing on the cake reads.
“Are these the Avengers you mentioned?” America asks.
She nods, eyes scanning over the group. “It appears they survived Thanos in this world and grew. I don’t recognize all of these people.” Her voice is tinged with sadness. “Tony looks old.”
The blond man puts an arm around this world’s Wanda, a brief brotherly display of affection, before approaching another of the men in the group – the birthday celebrant, presumably. A gorgeous woman with red hair comes up to Wanda and hands her a soda, making her smile.
Wanda is watching her alternate counterpart receive a kiss on the cheek from the robotic man next to her; he puts a hand on her belly. The other woman turns, and to America’s surprise, there is a noticeable bump.
“They aren’t here,” the Wanda next to America says abruptly. “Not yet. Not the ones I’m searching for.” America doesn’t say anything. Wanda’s tone is too much like the universe where they had found Pietro.
Wanda casts one more mournful look at the group. “I told you before I was trained by some of the best fighters on Earth,” she says. “Here they get to be talked about in present tense.”
Were they a family to you, too? America wants to ask, but she decides against it.
[26-27]
“Paint?” Wanda sputters.
“Paint. Sorry.”
[30]
They are underwater in this one, a universe where societies evolved off land. Here giant coral spires extend from the sea floor and children play among fields of seagrass.
Wanda passes. “I can’t stand Atlantis,” she says through their mental link, her magic maintaining the bubbles around their head that let them breathe. “And I don’t think they’re here. Why don’t we just explore this one?”
America’s never been underwater. Her home universe had been idyllic and full of nature, but everyone in it had remained fully on land. She’s never gone diving either, so the sensation of her fingers wrinkling in the salty water as aquatic life swirl around her is new.
Wanda swims over to her and taps her shoulder, pointing upwards. A pod of dolphins swims above them, backlit by the sun. They dip briefly above the water before diving deeper, and America and Wanda turn to watch them swim beyond one of the coral towers. It’s a beautiful sight, one America thinks she might be able to watch forever.
[35]
“What do you think you’ll do when you find them now?” America asks halfway through her deconstructed pizza bowl (bits of cheese and pepperoni tossed in a sauce and dough base).
The Strange from Wanda’s world had asked that question too when she had come to him with the Darkhold, her hands shaking. Do you think they’ll want to come home? he had asked, a note of sympathy buried deep beneath his voice. America had listened to the two of them talk. She had picked up that they were not quite friends, but bonded through the arcane and the aftermath of a galactic war.
She thinks she and Wanda are friends, by this point.
They have to, Wanda had replied, her voice trembling. I can pay the world back for Westview, Stephen. But I need them back first. It had been flimsy, but Strange had been reluctant to dip into darker magic to help them out further, so off they had gone.
“What do you think you’ll do when you find your moms?” Wanda parries.
America rolls her eyes. “Cry, maybe,” she says sarcastically. “Is that your plan, too?”
“I’d cry,” Wanda says. “I’d apologize, too.”
“Apologize?”
“I’m sure they’ve been through a lot, too.” Wanda stretches her fingers. “I created them out of a horrible, destructive impulse. In a way, it’s one I have been trying to fight for a long time. It’s why we are doing this…analog, like you said.”
“But they’re your kids,” America says.
“They are,” Wanda agrees. “So, they’re required to love me, a little bit.”
Is that what I’m doing this? America asks. Am I searching for my mothers just because they’re my mothers?
It’s a discomfiting thought, but she doesn’t dare mention it to Wanda, who is obviously comfortable with the distinction. If not the person to find her vanished mothers, who is America Chavez supposed to be? A traveler? Is she to remain the key to the multiverse?
Is she allowed to be a fighter, like Wanda? Or to just find a nice universe where she would like to grow up in peace? She doesn’t know.
[41]
In this one they are dogs, Wanda a nervous cocker spaniel mix and America an excitable terrier.
It takes time to get the portal open with one’s hind legs, but they manage.
[48]
America is starting to get frustrated – they have gone through nearly fifty worlds and have seen nary a sign of Wanda’s sons anywhere. She can tell it’s starting to get to get to Wanda, too; the older woman has been frowning for the last three or so worlds.
“No offense, but what if you don’t find them?” America huffs. “Is it just going to be this, forever?”
“You tell me,” Wanda snaps. “I know they’re out there. If I could just use the Darkhold…” She trails off, as if catching herself, and her face melts into a regretful smile, as if saying, you see? "Look, I’m sorry,” she accedes. “You’re just a kid, and you’re doing me a huge favor.”
“I just want to go home,” America moans. “Not just home. I’m tired of looking. I just want my moms back.”
“When I was your age, I–” Wanda’s voice is halting. “I would have done anything to get my parents back, too. Anything.” She looks out into the distance. This world is half-flooded, but utopic environmental paradises have sprung up where there is land. In a way, it is hauntingly beautiful. "So many possibilities in the multiverse," Wanda says. "And we just want a single, specific one. Funny how that works, huh?"
"It makes you feel very small, after a while," America says. "And I think those desires, family, it's okay if that's what keeps you going."
Wanda hums and doesn't say anything more.
[60]
Finally, finally, a flash of light under this universe’s Wundagore Mountain.
“Mom!” the voices call. Standing before them are two teenage boys, a little older than America, and much older than Wanda had described them – but the way Wanda’s eyes widen when she lays eyes on them, how their arms come up around hers, how her lips find both their cheeks – there’s no doubt that these boys are Billy and Tommy.
Wanda is crying. America doesn’t hear the explanation. Something about being trapped in a universe where time moved faster. What she does hear is we missed you so much and we thought of you the whole time.
It’s bittersweet, in a way. Wanda has achieved what she wanted out of this adventure – her sons, safe and happy, and America is no closer to finding her own mothers.
“Boys,” Wanda begins, oblivious to her mood. She’s happier than America has ever seen her, and for that America is glad. At least something good has come from using her powers. “This is America. The whole reason I was able to find you.”
One of them runs to take her hand. “Thank you so much,” he says, the words stumbling over themselves.
“It was kind of tough being out here,” the other one says. “And we’d rather get out now; time actually does fly by faster here, I think.”
Wanda turns to America, eyes gleaming. “Take us home,” Wanda says, and America does.
[0]
“That’s the plan?” Strange says. “Reform the Avengers?”
Beside America, Wanda nods. “I reached out to Sam and Clint. Sam agrees it’s a good idea, Clint said no but has a couple of replacements in mind.”
“You’ll be on the roster?” Strange replies. His voice is skeptical, and America can tell it makes Wanda apprehensive.
Wanda pauses, then shakes her head. “Not this way,” she replies. “Not when my magic isn’t under control. We need to set everything back up, but I need to train more, and I don’t want to put that burden on you or Kamar-Taj.” She flexes her fingers. “My magic – Billy’s magic – is different from yours.”
Wong frowns. “There are other mages, other types of magic. Other dimensions – Limbo, the Dark Dimension. There’s a man in Haiti, he could–”
“I already know where to go,” she interrupts. “Westview. To Agatha.”
The room quiets. Wanda’s sons shift uncomfortably.
“Mom,” Tommy says. “Are you sure? They’re not going to be happy to see us.”
“They won’t,” she admits. “But it was never the right thing to do to walk away from there.”
Strange glances at America and puts a voice to her question. “What about the kid?”
Billy turns his dark eyes on her. “I think we can help her, can’t we?” he says. “Surely if we put our minds together, we can come up with some interdimensional locator spell. Mom was halfway there, hearing us. I’m sure it can be done.”
“You are punching way above your paygrade, kid,” Wong says.
But Strange is contemplative. “Oh, you know. I believe the children are the future, and all.” He sips at his tea. “If Agatha Harkness agrees to help you and you figure it out, by all means come right by. But until then, there may be a place for Miss Chavez in Kamar-Taj.”
Wanda and Wong stare at him.
Strange shrugs. “What? You remember Spider-Man’s little friend. For all we know we might have another prodigy on our hands.”
“It’s…not a bad idea,” Wanda says slowly. “You can be protected there, and maybe they can help you master your powers. I know it’s not the same, and I know it’s no guarantee we can come up with something, but…”
Wong shrugs. “And if we can’t, I suppose the worst that happens is nothing happens.” He nods. “It’s her call.”
America considers it. Years and years of travel, of searching, and now she is being offered a place to rest her head.
“You could leave whenever you want, of course,” Strange adds. “I can’t guarantee that other versions of us will be so buddy-buddy, but…”
“Don’t be rude, Stephen,” Wong butts in.
“No,” America says, speaking for the first time. “I think – I wouldn’t mind staying a while.”
Wanda’s face lights up, and she turns and gives America a long hug. “I’m glad,” she murmurs. “I can’t thank you enough, America.”
“We’ll do our best,” Billy adds.
Wong waves his hand and a portal appears before them. “Save yourselves the bus trip,” he says.
The twins wave goodbye, and the three of them disappear in a flash of light. America exhales, not even realizing she had been holding in a breath.
Strange looks at her again. She thinks his face has softened somewhat. “You did good, kid,” he says. “Well? Want Wong to show you to your room?”
“Stephen, I swear–”
America looks around the Sanctum, admires its high arches and arcane mysteries. Home for now. For how long, she doesn’t know. But for now might be enough.