Chapter Text
“I don’t know how I did it.
I only remember feeling completely alone.
Empty. I just…
Endless nothingness.”
--------------------------------------------
The car door slammed shut with a heavy sound.
Wanda’s footsteps fell muted on the ground. A letter was grasped within her hands; a singular lifeline to reality.
She was empty, inside. Utterly, completely alone. Where determination and desperation had filled with purpose as she had walked into the SWORD headquarters, now she felt… nothing.
Her feet carried her forward, from the paved stone path onto the dirt, where weeds had taken over and were now being trampled in the wake of her path. Destruction apparently followed her wherever she went. She moved on, though the opening in the broken walls of the foundation.
The foundation of what should have become her home. What should have become their home.
Shaking hands unfolded the letter she was holding, her eyes falling upon the lovingly written words. Words, so filled with the hope for a dream that had been abruptly, violently cut off before it could have had a chance to become reality.
Wanda pressed her lips tightly together as the nothingness slowly made place for an overwhelming wave of grief. It had no place to go, so it brewed inside of her, making her gasp for breath, pushing her to her knees, putting its claws into her mind, taking hold and-
A near silent sound broke through her suffering and the chaos inside of her dimmed down and snuffed out.
Wanda raised her head, looking out through hazy eyes, searching for the source of the sound. For the first time since driving away from the SWORD headquarters, she cleared her throat and spoke, her voice rough and heavy. “Hello?”
A whine had her clambering to her feet, swaying slightly, the letter still clamped tightly against her chest. “Hello?” she repeated, stumbling forward. She walked across the grass until she reached the far side of the foundation and peeked across it.
Wanda gasped at the sight of the small, ratty dog. His presumably white fur was covered in mud, and the red collar of the poor animal was stuck on a piece of metal wire that protruded from the broken foundation. She stepped across the low wall and knelt down in front of it. Now that she was giving the dog her full attention, he stared at her with soulful eyes and upped the whining a notch. Wanda held out her hand for the dog to sniff, trailing her hand across the dog’s head once she had his approval. Carefully, she reached down to untangle the collar.
She expected the dog to run off as soon as she had freed him, but instead he shook his head, as if to test his freedom, before wagging his tail and enthusiastically climbing onto her knees, licking her face.
A startled huff escaped her and she automatically pushed him away.
The dog whined pitifully.
“I know,” she soothed, smoothing a hand down the dog’s head, not caring about the sand that transferred from his fur to her fingers. She debated on what to do for a hot minute. Someone had to be looking for the dog, right? The thought of just leaving the dog here made her nauseous. The dog hadn’t done anything bad; he did not deserve to be left to fend for himself. “I guess we should find your owners, shouldn’t we, hm?”
She held out her arms and the dog immediately settled into them. The letter was still in her hand. Wanda got up from the grassy ground with a small sigh and absentmindedly raked her free hand through the fur on the dog’s back. Glancing around, actually taking in her surroundings for the first time, she quickly realized the streets were empty.
The dog tilted his head up at her, and a soft jingle caught her attention. Tracing along the dog’s collar, her fingers curled around a small silver plate that was attached with a ring. She twisted it so the engraving got caught in the daylight. “Spot,” she read out loud.
Spot barked once, wagging his tail best he could, sitting in Wanda’s arms.
Wanda turned the tag around, eyes flitting across the words. “So, you don’t live far from here, it appears,” she said softly, letting the tag slip out of her grip. “Just a few doors down, huh? I’m sure your owners are worried.”
Her hand returned to its task of petting the dog (whether it was more soothing for him or for her, she did not know) and she determinedly stepped back into the house’s foundation, walking away past the car and back onto the road. Her feet were tired, but her mind was sharp as she counted the houses she passed until she found the one that matched the number on Spot’s collar. She walked up the driveway, past a non-descript car and up to the bright red door. Stretching her neck, she tried to peek through the house’s windows to see if anyone was home, but her view was obstructed by a set of curtains. There was no doubt that this was the right house though, because Spot had perched up in her arms, looking at the house with longing.
Wanda took a deep breath, steeled her shoulders and pressed the bell.
The sound echoed loudly throughout the house and was quickly followed by a light set of footsteps that could never belong to an adult. With a twist of the doorknob, the door opened a crack, a set of curious red-rimmed eyes peeking out and landing on Wanda. Immediately a gasp sounded and the door swung open fully, a girl no older than six running out and meeting Spot halfway as he leapt out of Wanda’s arms.
“Spot,” the girl gasped, falling to her knees uncaring for the mud that immediately clung to her blue dress. She laughed with joy as Spot jumped up, licking her dark brown face and barking just as joyously.
Wanda swallowed down a wave of emotion that threatened to overtake her at the sight.
“Holly?” it sounded from the house. The name was repeated twice, before a haggardly looking woman stumbled into the hallway, redness blotching her pale face. A laundry basket sat against her right side; a young boy sat on her left. When she saw the open front door, and Wanda standing outside, in front of Holly, she quickened her pace. “Holly, what have I said about opening the door when I’m not around… Oh.” Her face softened when Holly turned around, Spot in her arms.
“This lady found Spot!” Holly exclaimed, looking back at Wanda and smiling so widely that Wanda could not help but smile in return.
The woman put the laundry basket down and stepped outside, pulling Holly and Spot into a right embrace. She kissed Holly on her head and trailed a hand down her face, wiping away happy tears that had escaped. “Oh honey, I’m so glad.” Her gaze shifted to Wanda, who was standing just a foot away, shifting uncomfortably as she tried to figure out how to make her excuses so she could leave.
Now that Wanda’s arms were empty again, and her goal was fulfilled, a sense of purposelessness washed over her again. The letter sat creased within her clenched fist.
“Thank you for bringing Spot home,” the woman said. She had a kind smile. “We’d been so very worried when he ran off, but we couldn’t seem to find him anywhere. Where was he?”
“He was stuck,” Wanda said slowly, her accent heavy, having a hard time forming words and pushing them out into the world. “I found him outside my…” Her sentence trailed off as she tried to look for a word that described the place. Her would-have-been home. Helplessly she stared at the woman, and settled on, “I found him outside.”
“Well, we are very grateful for your help,” the woman responded. She looked down at Holly and carefully put down the boy who had started wiggling restlessly against her side. He stumbled into Holly and proceeded to receive just as much love from Spot as Holly had. The woman looked back up at Wanda with a searching look, before smiling again. “My name is Margot.”
“I’m Wanda.”
If Margot recognized her – and to be honest, that chance was very high – she did not let it show. Instead, she held out a hand in invitation. “Would you like to come inside? Dinner is almost ready, and it would be the least I could do to thank you for bringing Spot back home safely.”
Wanda shook her head slightly. “I really- I couldn’t-“
Holly turned to her with wide, pleading dark brown eyes. “Please?”
Spot, still in her arms, barked in agreement.
Wanda glanced up at Margot and her inviting gesture, then back down at Holly’s hopefully face before giving in. “Sure, why not.”
Holly cheered, her little brother imitating the sound, and Margot herded everyone into the house.
The letter was still held tightly within her hands.
-x-
Margot was the widowed mother of Holly and Max, Wanda found out over dinner. She spoke openly about her husband, as did the kids, but Wanda could see the pain she herself felt mirrored in Margot’s eyes, behind the curtains that hid her hurt from her children. These children were Margot’s life. Little Holly and her brother Max, who had been heartbroken when Spot had escaped from the backyard that morning and had been nowhere to be found. There was relief in Margot’s eyes whenever she glanced over at her children, who were doing a poor job of hiding that they were feeding Spot part of their dinner.
Wanda assumed that she would be expected to leave after dinner, but then Holly had asked if she could read her a bedtime story and tuck her in. And it was only polite to stay after, to help Margot clean the kitchen, right?
A bottle of wine was opened at some point, long after the children had been put to bed, and Margot insisted Wanda stay a little longer. Spot had laid down in his dog bed next to the armchair and the two of them sat on a couch opposite the television in the small but cozy living room. Wineglass held loosely within her palm, Wanda let her gaze trail along the richly filled walls: framed photos and drawings covered them from floor to ceiling, painting a picture of a life well-lived. Plenty of photos contained a Black man with kind, expressive eyes like Max’s and a wide smile that Wanda recognized from Holly’s face.
Next to her, Margot sighed, closing her eyes and letting the tension seep out of her frame. For a moment, she looked more tired and old than a woman in her early thirties should.
Wanda hesitated for a moment, but remembered Margot’s welcoming words and open stance in life and nodded towards the pictures. “Is that your husband?”
Margot smiled softly, taking on a wistful look. “That’s Will, yes. He passed away from cancer, a little less than a year ago.” She visibly paused and shook her head. “Several years ago.”
Wanda’s heart panged. “You…”
“Me, Holly and Max all disappeared. As did Spot,” Margot answered. She raised her glass and took a sip, before letting out a humorless chuckle. “Did you know they’re calling our return the ‘Blip’ now? I know it’s just a word, but it’s been leaving a bad taste in my mouth. It just feels like they picked the funkiest sounding and inconsequential word for an experience that was so extremely-“
Margot cut herself off, but Wanda could easily complete the sentence in her mind. Disorienting. Terrifying. Horrifying. Even those words seemed too small to encapsulate the experience of your body turning to dust and knitting itself back together five years later, putting you back into a world where you no longer belonged.
“Some days I’m grateful that at least, none of us were left behind on their own. I know we are extremely lucky that my family decided to leave the house be. But it is weird to discover you are still freshly grieving your husband, whilst the people who would have grieved with you, have moved on.”
Wanda’s mind presented her with the picture of Vision’s dissected body and the sound of the clinical and cold words that were spoken to her, and she shuddered.
“I’m sorry, I was rambling, wasn’t I?” Margot sighed and laughed, though there was no real joy. She raised her half-full wine glass. “I would blame the alcohol, but if I’m being really honest, it has just been a while since I sat down and chatted with someone who isn’t my six-year-old or my therapist. Especially about how wild these past few weeks have been. I didn’t mean to dump that all onto you.”
Wanda was shaking her head before Margot even finished talking. “No! No, don’t apologize, I-“ she looked for the right words. “I don’t mind. I-“ She swallowed heavily. “It is… comforting to know. That it’s not just me.”
“So you got” – Margot motioned with her free hand and made a sound to mimic a puff of smoke – “too?”
Wanda bit her lip and nodded.
“I figured,” Margot said honestly.
A heavy, but not uncomfortable silence hung in the room for a minute.
Wanda was speaking again before she comprehended what she was saying. “I lost someone, too.” Her mouth slammed shut of its own accord, but she forced herself to continue. “He- It happened just before I got-“ Emotion was creeping up through her chest until she did not dare speak in fear of bursting apart at the seams. She took a moment to compose herself and took a few deep breaths. “I came back, but he didn’t. Couldn’t.” She looked down and clenched her fists tightly, remembering the red light in her palms. Remembering Vision’s pleading gaze, a stone in her hand, a lifeless body in her arms, only for time to be rewound and his sacrifice to be demurred. His life violently taken from him.
The couch cushion dipped as Margot moved closer to her and took Wanda’s glass from her hand to put it on the salon table along with her own. Soft, calloused hands covered Wanda’s, carefully prying her fingers away from her abused palm.
“Wanda?”
Wanda looked up through her silent tears to see sadness on Margot’s face. “Yes?”
“You look like you could use a hug.” Margot held her arms open in invitation, leaving the decision up to Wanda.
Wanda hesitated for a second before moving in and accepting Margot’s embrace. The arms tightened around her, pulling her in and silently offering the comfort Wanda had not realized she had been craving.
She broke out sobbing.