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The FBI doesn’t normally get involved in missing person’s cases. When the entire town of Westview disappeared, well, that was a very special case. Jimmy should know. He was the one to spearhead the investigation, after all.
He doesn’t want to answer a call about a specific missing person’s case right now. Yes, it’s a sixteen year old, and yes, that’s awful, but it’s not his department! This is what local law enforcement is for . He’s trying to explain this to the other operative trying to field this call his way, but the guy doesn’t want to listen to him.
“Look, Woo,” he says, “I get it! But it’s your department.” Jimmy lets out a frustrated sigh and then the static on the line shifts.
“Is this Agent Jimmy Woo?” the gruff voice asks.
“Yes,” he says, “but I really don’t think you’re calling the right place. I understand that this is an upsetting situation, but this isn’t really an FBI kind of problem. A missing sixteen year old is awful, yes-” But sometimes kids forget to tell their parents they’re staying at a friend’s house. Sometimes they run away. They can’t send in the FBI after every sixteen year old that slept on their best friend's couch for a night.
“They said you were the one to talk to about Westview,” the sheriff of Eastview says.
“I was ,” Jimmy tells him, “but it’s been three years.” After Wanda’s… ugly second breakdown and death, he doubts anything new will come from the Westview situation.
“This missing kid was in a car accident that should have been fatal right by the anomaly. As it disappeared .” Shit, that’s… a hell of a coincidence.
“Okay, yeah,” Jimmy agrees, “that might be my department.”
“Uh huh,” the sheriff says sarcastically. Jimmy’s still grasping for a clever retort when the guy says, “I’m not sending this stuff over the fax machine or whatever. All the wires are tapped.”
“Fax… machine?” Jimmy asks. What decade does this guy think they live in, exactly?
“Come meet us here. We’ll get you what you need.” Jimmy’s about to protest, but then the sheriff hangs up the phone.
After a quick talk with the higher ups, they agree that he should drive out there to check. Sure, it’s a three hour drive from DC to central Jersey, but if there’s a loose end involving Westview… he has to take care of it. For better or for worse, he's become the guardian of the Maximoff Anomaly.
He runs home, grabs his go-bag, and hits the road. Only when he is safely traversing the highway and hooked up to his car does he voice command the thing to call Lewis comma Darcy. She answers immediately.
“OH MY GOD! JIMMY!” she exclaims, MY DUDE! It's been too long!”
“Yeah,” Jimmy admits, “it has.” They used to meet up every few weeks to get coffee or watch a movie or something, normally with Monica in tow. Then Monica disappeared and things got difficult. Things got even more difficult with Jane Foster's cancer diagnosis and eventual death. They tried to stay in touch, but then everything he could say just felt so… trivial. He sent her a sympathy card, but actually talking to her in the depths of her grief…
Jimmy is good at a lot of things. That is not one of them.
“Anyway you could meet me in Eastview New Jersey in like, four hours?” Jimmy asks.
“You remember I live in New Mexico, right?” Darcy asks, laughing.
Jimmy feels himself turn red. “I’M SORRY!”
Darcy laughs even harder. “I’m messing with you! I’m in Manhattan for a job, so I’ll book a few train tickets. I can get down to Trenton in like… two and a half hours?” Jimmy feels so grateful he could cry.
“Can you pick me up there on your way?”
“Of course!” he declares. Anything to work with a friendly face. They’re down one from the dream team, but two is better than one.
Special Agent Jimmy Woo listens to his Ted Talks as he drives the speed limit. Some people flip him off as they pass him, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. Sure, he’s gone against authority when it’s needed, but that doesn’t mean he’ll break laws all willy-nilly.
When he gets to Trenton, he heads straight for the train station. Darcy’s unusually quiet as she makes her way with him to the car. Once they both get in, Jimmy decides to wait a second before he starts to drive. He really doesn’t want to have a difficult talk like this while he’s behind the wheel.
“I’m really sorry about your loss,” Jimmy tells her.
Darcy stares. “My… loss?”
“Yes?” Jimmy asks, “Jane’s cancer?”
“Oh god,” Darcy says, “I completely forgot to tell you. Jane didn’t die.”
“She… didn’t?”
“Yeah,” Darcy says, “or… well, she kinda did? It was a whole thing on Asgard. She died, got resurrected. Now she’s the queen, I guess.”
“Oh,” Jimmy says. He doesn’t really know what to do with that.
“Yeah,” Darcy says. She doesn’t sound pleased by this development.
“And how do you, uh, feel? About that?”
Darcy laughs an uncomfortable laugh “I feel bad, Jimmy. Real bad.” Jimmy stays silent to see if Darcy wants to keep going.
She does. “She and Thor talked to the Department of Damage Control or whatever and they decided that they’d just…. Do a cover up. Fake her death for real, cut her losses with anyone in the human world that doesn’t travel back and forth from Asgard.”
“That’s…” He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.
“I know, right!” Darcy declares, “I have to pretend my best friend’s dead and I’m so sad about it, but I'm just…” Darcy lets out a frustrated groan. “She gave up everything! She died and came back! And now she’s just… Queen of Asgard? I guess? Like come on! What about physics ?” Jimmy hears the sharper complaint buried right underneath: what about me?
“Yeah,” Jimmy admits, “that must have hurt.”
“Yeah,” she admits, “I’m glad you reached out, though. I.. needed a friend.”
He smiles. “I did too.”
Then Darcy demands he connect her phone to his car and she blasts some new pop album that feels like it’s melting his brain. He really missed her.
When they get to the sheriff’s department, Jimmy makes his way right in and Darcy waits in the car on her phone. Jimmy doesn’t even have to show his badge for the man at the front desk to call out for the sheriff.
The sheriff makes his way over immediately, but he does it very, very slowly. He’s a wrinkled old white man with a walker, so this isn’t much of a surprise.
“You must be Agent Woo,” he says.
“I am.” He hands Jimmy a file.
“William Kaplan, age 16,” the sheriff tells him. “His folks are both doctors. Apparently he wasn’t in his bed this morning and didn’t show up for school. They checked with all his friends and the boyfriend. The only lead we got was from the boyfriend. Apparently the kid was looking into the Westview anomaly.”
Jimmy just sort of stares at him. “Have you started looking for him there?”
The sheriff scoffs. “Are you insane? None of us are ever stepping foot in that town.”
“Well have you called the Westview police?” he demands, “so they know to be on the lookout for him?”
“I expected you’d want to use your own discretion on this one,” the sheriff tells him. Great. A missing minor dumped right into his lap without any help.
“Do you have the boyfriend’s contact information?”
“I can do you one better.”
It’s a business card. For the… “Senior class president?”
“That’s my girl! My youngest grandkid’s something special,” the sheriff declares. Jimmy is sure that she is. She’s got a wide smile and a perfectly made-up face, wearing a pantsuit that would make her fit right in with adult politicians. But what does this man expect him to do with a student business card?
"Why are you giving this to me?" he asks.
"The address of the high school is on it," the sheriff tells him. He just stares.
“The boyfriend’s name’s Eduardo Delgado, only one at the high school. If you flash that badge of yours I’m sure the office ladies’ll get him for you.”
Jimmy bristles. “That’s against so many protocols.”
The man scoffs. “So?” Jimmy wants to argue that point further, but he knows there’s no point.
Instead, he glances down at his watch. “It’s 4:38! There’s no way the kid’s still in school!”
The sheriff sighs. “Fine, check out the file instead. Might be more info in there than I think.”
The file does, in fact, have more information. One of the deputies (thank god for them) took down Eduardo Delgado’s entire statement. The statement includes a trip to a parking garage in Trenton, a meetup with some scary guy who might be Ralph or might be Randall but whose last name was definitely “Bohner”, some information about WandaVision and the constructed Maximoff family, and a dire warning about Agatha Harkness.
Yeah. The one that Wanda Maximoff got the Darkhold from. The one that held Wanda’s kids hostage and further exacerbated an awful situation. The one that’s still in Westview under her own tiny version of Wanda Maximoff’s spell.
Jimmy grabs the file and nearly runs out the door. When he gets into his car, Darcy looks up from her phone.
“Find anything out?”
“I think so,” Jimmy says. He doesn’t say anything as he thinks through his next plan of action. Where was the house that they left Agatha Harkness in anyway? It would have been close to the incomplete foundation that was going to be Wanda and Vision’s house, right? “Agnes” was the next-door neighbor?
Darcy nods. “Want to share with the class?”
“That depends,” Jimmy says, “Do you remember where Wanda’s house was going to be?”
Darcy smiles. He takes that as a yes.
It wasn’t a yes.
It’s been half an hour since they drove down the block that Darcy was pretty sure Wanda’s foundation was located in. They drove that whole street until it gave way to fields, turned onto the street directly to the North and took it back downtown, and then took the one to the South.
“Darcy,” he says, “please. Let’s stop for directions.”
“And say what?” she asks, “hey, remember that traumatic thing that happened to you all three years ago? Can you tell us where the lady that did that to you was going to put her house? I promise we’re asking for normal reasons.”
Jimmy lets out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, fine. I get it.” She’s not exactly wrong. It’s just getting harder and harder to even make out the houses as sunset settles into twilight. It won’t be long until twilight turns to dusk, when it’ll be almost impossible to make out any houses at all.
“HEY! JIMMY!” Darcy shouts. She’s pointing out her window at the foundation of Wanda Maximoff’s planned house. Jimmy pulls over to park beside it, making sure to look for fire hydrants, mail boxes, and yellow lines. Darcy gives this precaution a fond eye roll, and then they start down the street towards Agatha Harkness’s house. As they pass by his house, the nice Black neighbor from Wandavision comes bounding out of his house. He looks so relieved to see them.
“Oh thank god,” the guy says, “you’re the FBI guy, right? From the Incident?”
“Uh, yeah,” Jimmy says, “that’s me.”
“Do you have any idea what just happened?” he asks, eyes wide and concerned. Jimmy sends Darcy a look, but she just shrugs. Alright, so… They’re both in the dark here.
“No,” Jimmy says, “can you tell us?”
The man lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “Of course you don’t know yet. Just our luck.” Jimmy gives him a sympathetic nod. At least he hopes that it seems sympathetic. He knows sometimes he comes off like he doesn’t care.
“Look,” the guy says, “you know about the lady that Wanda kept under that spell for the past three years?” Jimmy nods. That's pretty much the reason they're here.
“For the past few weeks she’s been acting… different,” he says, “like she was in some sort of cop drama instead of the 50s sitcom. Then she just had this, like, mental break this morning? She ran out naked and started demanding I answer all these questions, insulted the town, and said her name was… Agatha. Once she went back inside I kinda brushed it off, but then this evening there was this group of creepy ladies dressed in all black that like. Broke into her house? They left about twenty minutes ago, so I think it’s safe now? Maybe?”
Jimmy has no idea what to do with all of that. Instead, he takes the picture of William Kaplan out of his file.
“Have you seen this boy?”
“Oh yeah,” the guy says, “I saw that kid tonight. We had a moment before those weirdos ran into Agnes- I mean Agatha’s- house. I was just bringing in my groceries and then everything’s going crazy.”
“You said they left twenty minutes ago,” Jimmy says, “did Agatha leave?”
“Nope.”
“What about the kid?”
“Didn’t see him again. He had to barricade the door to try to keep those crazy ladies out, but they got in anyway.”
“Jeez,” Darcy says, “did you check to make sure they weren’t, like, murdered?”
“No?” he asks, “I’m not looking to be in anymore true crime podcasts." Darcy looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t let herself.
The neighbor raises his eyebrows as he looks to Jimmy. “Do you think I should have broken into her house?”
“No,” Jimmy says, “not at all.” He’s actually so glad to hear someone following the rules he could cry.
“Good,” the neighbor says, “because I wasn’t gonna.”
“Thank you for your help,” Jimmy says. Then he realizes that he doesn’t know this guy’s name. He’s probably gonna need that for paperwork.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Darcy opens her mouth to say something (she was such a fan of Wandavision when it was happening he's sure this guy's character name is on the tip of her tongue), but he luckily holds out a hand quickly enough to stop her.
“My name is John Collins,” he tells them, “I know you might know me as something else but-” He smiles uncomfortably. “I’m John.”
“Of course,” Jimmy says, “John Collins. I’ll remember that for the report.”
The man sends him an appreciative look. It only takes a moment for it to turn concerned. “You guys are gonna figure this out, right? It’s not gonna be like last time?”
Jimmy can’t make any promises, not really. He might know even less going into this one than he did last time.
“We’ll do our best,” Jimmy tells him. John nods and makes his way back to his own house. Jimmy decides that’s the best he’s going to get from him.
While he was happy that the civilian didn’t break into Agatha Harkness’s house, he’s not bound to the same rules. Jimmy is an officer of the law. There’s a possible threat to the safety of two individuals, so he can and will enter the home.
It’s pretty easy since the weird ladies in black broke down the door. And tore up the upstairs. And the door down to the basement. Whatever confrontation happened in this house, it must have been in the basement.
“Huh,” Darcy says, “I wonder what Agatha Harkness’s murder basement looks like.”
Jimmy can’t help but chuckle. “I guess we’ll find out?”
It looks like an unfinished basement. Nothing scary, nothing flashy, just a normal, bare-bones storage area. The only point of interest is the place in the middle of the concrete floor where the material shifts to planks of wood. They’re in the shape of a pentagon, each ending plank ending in a slip of metal. The shape is split in two with hoops of metal coming off each side.
Darcy drops to a squat, examining the door closer. “Huh, do you think this leads to the real murder basement?” Jimmy shrugs. Then Darcy starts trying to make the doors open. The only response the metal or the wood gives is that underneath the wooden planks starts… glowing.
It’s a neon shade of blue. Jimmy’s only experiences with magic were in Westview, but whatever this is… It screams magic. It probably ate Agatha Harkness, and William Kaplan, and maybe the weird ladies dressed in black too. They’re gonna need backup.
“Huh,” Jimmy says, “I don’t think they’re in Jersey anymore.”
Darcy laughs. “Oh my god, dude!” Then her eyes narrow a bit as she turns more serious. "Do we need backup?"
“Yeah,” he agrees, “we need backup. Whatever’s happening here… it’s not natural.”
“So who do we call?” Darcy asks, “this seems a little much for the Westview PD.”
“Well,” Jimmy says, “I don’t think we should call SWORD. No matter what.”
“I one hundred percent agree,” Darcy says, “I know Hayward’s out now, but Monica still doesn't-" she flinches, "Didn't trust them. Department of Damage Control?”
“No,” Jimmy says, “I know I work for the government too, but they’re… next level.” He doesn’t trust the Department of Damage Control not to “control the damage” by wiping Westview off the map. John Collins and his neighbors deserve nothing but the best after the shit Wanda put them through.
They both frown.
“I would contact Asgard, but…” With the way she and Jane left things, Jimmy wouldn’t ask that of her unless it’s the absolute last resort.
“There has to be someone else,” he says. He thinks about calling Scott, but he knows that wouldn’t be fair. The guy’s still adjusting after the Blip, and it’s not like he knows anything about magic.
“Oh shit,” Darcy says, “do you remember who Monica was working with when she disappeared?”
“Is that a… hypothetical?” Jimmy asks. He doubts that Darcy’s forgotten a single detail of that. The loss of their friend was traumatic for both of them. Sure, it wasn’t SABER's fault that she’s gone now, but it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“At SABER she was working with Nick Fury ,” Darcy says.
Jimmy frowns. “Are you sure that’s who you’d want on this? He destroyed his own organization once before.”
“I trust him,” Darcy says, “certainly more than anyone at SWORD nowadays."
“Alright,” Jimmy says, “do you remember how to get in contact with him?” Darcy takes out her phone.
“Always.”
This is opening a whole new set of complicated variables, of course. The more people involved in this, the bigger it gets and the less control he has over it. He remembers what happened with the Hex… but he also knows that he never could have ended it without all the help that he got. Maybe Nick Fury’s resources are exactly what he needs to help bring this kid home alive. They won’t know until they try.