Wanda Maximoff doesn't need to be told who she is (getsinsideofyou) wrote in pathways_log, @ 2022-01-24 18:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | mcu: wanda maximoff, rwby: winter schnee |
Who: Wanda, Winter and ‘Pietro’
What: Breaking through the illusion and bringing down the hex
When: November 3rd
Where: Within the Hex
Ratings/Warnings: Wanda related warnings, Winter related warnings
Status: Log | Complete
Winter had never been a fan of sitcoms. She’d lived that perfect life and knew it to be the lie it was. She didn’t even have the benefit of crazy shenanigans. Just abuse.
Living in one had not been her idea of fun and she was grateful she’d been pulled out of it. Just witnessing it from outside showed how creepy the whole concept actually was.
That Wanda was the cause of all this was not entirely a surprise. Winter felt a pang of guilt for not noticing there was something this wrong and for being so deep into her own troubles she’d fallen off the wagon.
But that was a worry for another time. At least this was something she could focus on. Helping someone.
But then, Winter had a history of failing to help the people she loved and cared about. Wanda was definitely in the latter, and Winter was content to leave her feelings in the ‘it’s complicated’ field for the moment.
Everything was falling apart. But hadn’t that been the case since this all started? No. It had been the case since long before that. Wanda had just ignored the signs, refusing to see the cracks forming beneath the surface. Honestly, she didn’t even know how all of this started. She hadn’t been aware of it until everything had started crashing down and things that shouldn’t interact were interacting.
It also didn’t help that there were memories coming and going from another time, another place, another incident like this.
It’s been fun playing pretend for a while, hasn’t it, Wanda? But it’s time to look at some real reruns.
No. She didn’t want to remember. The sensation of her heart shattering when Pietro died. Killing Vision only for Thanos to bring him back just to kill him again. Her parents while she and Pietro hid under the bed and waited for two days to die. Her parents when the allied bombs fell on their evacuation. The constant death that seemed to surround her, to hollow her out. Why did she have to remember it?
So, little orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what, otherwise, would’ve died on the vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more.
She didn’t want to hear, she didn’t want to know. She wasn’t a witch.
So, what I see here is a baby witch, obsessed with sitcoms and years of therapy ahead of her. Doesn’t explain your recent hijinks. Where’d you get the big guns, Wanda?
I don’t wanna go back there.
I know you don’t, but it’s good medicine, angel. The only way forward is back.
The Hex was wavering. Trying to expand. The more Wanda tried to pull it together, the more out of control she felt. The more she felt like she was shattering and there was no way to pull herself back together. She just wanted people to be happy. She wanted them to be secure and safe. But it was all wrong. She didn’t know how she did this, just that it was her fault. How many times had she failed because she was trying to help?
Stuck in a cartoon park while decidedly not a cartoon and she wasn’t even sure how the mishmash of outfits worked, Wanda looked around desperately for an answer. How was this supposed to be fixed? The taunting voice said only the witch who cast the spell could undo it but how could she undo it if she didn’t even know how she did it in the first place??
Having spent the past two days as a cartoon, Winter felt more or less prepared for anything. She hadn't even been a real cartoon, but some kind of weird cel animated 3d. There'd been so many different kinds of cartoons running around that she'd become certain she was losing her mind.
And she was still one, even if the rest of the city seemed to have completely gone off the rails. But at least she was herself, mostly.
The goth girl had done... something. And she was grateful for that, even if she didn't enjoy the realization that she only really had one friend outside of her sister.
And that that friend was somehow responsible for this.
"God, I don't know how I'm going to cover this up," She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword as she stalked around, trying to find the center of this all. Winter likes swords. Simple, elegant weapons. You had to get up close and personal too. Look the person you were killing in the eyes.
Much different than dropping bombs from ten thousand feet. Not that she ever had outside of training. And she didn't know what threats she might find, or if she needed to defend Wanda from someone.
"Wanda?" She called out.
There had to be an answer. Something she was missing. Or a memory she was pushing aside. Something to stabilize what was happening. Or taking it down. Or…. Wanda didn’t know. Getting up from the park bench she’d found herself at, the young woman started down a path, one she didn’t know where it would lead her. Just hoping it would lead her to an answer.
I tried to be gentle, to nudge you awake from this ridiculous fantasy, but you would rather fall apart than face your truth. You left me no choice. What was it you said to your not-brother? Hmm? All you could recall was the feeling. You felt empty. Alone. Endless nothingness. Let’s start there.
The remembered comment brought Wanda to a halt, flickers of the phone call pushing its way to her conscious mind, the desperation and emptiness, the feelings she didn’t want to remember that she kept pushing aside.
“No...you aren’t real, leave me alone!”
Because Agatha wasn’t there. Just the memories from another time and place where something like this had happened. Agatha wasn’t real. Pietro wasn’t dead. He’d been in this with her the whole time.
Except he wasn’t there now.
Running, as if that would help her escape the voice and the fear and self doubt and the guilt, Wanda didn’t even notice where she had run until she saw a...cartoon who sounded like….
“Winter?”
She at least recognized (sort of) the other woman. An improvement from the past five days. But even so.
Winter grabbed Wanda by the shoulders to steady her, "I think so. I've got the color scheme." She smiled wryly, taking a step back to get a good look at Wanda.
This whole thing was still cognitively dissonant to her, but she pushed all that down. Much better to focus on someone else than the fact that her world had come crashing down.
Literally.
"Are you okay?"
This was like some weird version of the movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit with cartoons and non-cartoons interacting. The difference of course being she was the one who had done this, and it was a blender of a bunch of different sitcoms.
“You do have that, yes.”
Because why not act like this was normal. Then again, Las Vegas had altered what normal meant.
Focusing on anything but the world crashing down technically had been the cause of this. Wanda’s grief. Her desperation to see Pietro. But she didn’t know how and she didn’t know where her brother had disappeared off to.
“Um. I think so...I’m not entirely sure.”
This was all such a mess.
Everything was normal. And fine.
If Winter thought it enough it would become true, wouldn't it?
Wanda's response didn't fill her with much confidence. Gingerly, she put her hand on Wanda's shoulder, in that awkward sort of way that someone unused to giving or receiving comfort could do. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"
Rubbing her forehead, Wanda tried to focus. Tried to make sense of what was going on. To sort her memories from here and the memories that kept pushing their way into her mind. The taunting voice. The desperation to forget. To exist in a place where things were easily wrapped up and worked out in the end.
“I… There was a phone call… A status update.”
Wincing, Wanda shook her head. Everything in her was screaming not to remember. That it was safer here. Even with everything falling apart. Things existing where they shouldn’t. And suddenly there was a burst of wind and Pietro was there, a hand on her shoulder to make sure she was okay. The two had always been so connected.
“I’m fine, Pietro, it’s just a headache…”
The comment was said in Sokovian, and for a moment, Wanda forgot that Winter was there until she noticed the look on her brother’s face.
“I know, she’s U.S. Military but she’s a friend.”
No world existed where things worked out in the end outside of sitcoms, so they really were kind of the perfect escape. Not that Winter ever took advantage of escapes. She preferred to work herself to death.
“An update on--” Winter blinked, trying to figure out where this man came from, “Pietro? Your brother?”
Her missing brother?
Oh.
Oh.
She glanced at Wanda, trying to figure out what to say to break through the delusion.
It was always said it was good to decompress, find things to do outside of work to maintain some sort of balance. And so in that regard, there theoretically was nothing wrong with sitcoms. They were just a way to unwind from the day. At least until you had a nervous breakdown and trapped everyone inside of a sitcom to avoid pain and suffering.
Look, we’ve all been there, right? Letting our fear and anger get the best of us. Intentionally expanding the borders of the false world we created.
A completely normal situation. Or not.
Hearing Winter’s question, Wanda looked over to her and nodded.
“Yes.”
It really was a tricky situation. Wanda was wavering. Half aware, half unaware, desperate for this to be real because that meant she and Pietro were finally together again.
The look, the fact Winter seemed to be trying to figure out something to say….something she didn’t want to hear….
I was so patient, waiting for you to reveal your true self. I got close with fake Pietro. Fietro, if you will, but no dice.
That was you.
No, it wasn’t literally me. Just my eyes and ears. A crystalline possession. Necromancy was a non-starter since your real brother’s body is on another continent. Not to mention, full of holes. But you’re so crippled by your own self-doubt that you believed it.
Feeling herself getting anxious, Wanda grasped Pietro’s hand as she looked at him, eyes widening when to her, he was suddenly ashen, bullet holes in what he’d worn during the Battle of Sokovia.
“N...no…”
The energy wall of the hex fluctuated, the more Wanda struggled to breathe. More words and images flashing in her mind of that other place even as Pietro demanded Winter tell him what she had done to his sister because clearly it was something the other woman had said.
So, to recap. Parents dead, brother dead, Vision dead. What happened when he wasn’t there to pull you back from the darkness, Wanda?
I can’t do this anymore.
Come on, Wanda! You’re on the precipice. You are right there! Tell me how you did it.
“I don’t know how I did it!”
The words came out before she realized that she said them out loud instead of holding conversations in her head with someone who wasn’t even there. She wasn’t who the woman in her memories said she was. Or what she said she was. This was insane. Even if part of her knew that to undo whatever this was meant to lose Pietro all over again. Maybe for good this time.
The delusion was... well it was hard to understand that it could be happening, but she lived a life with magic maidens and dust. For a moment, she glanced up at the sky, expecting the moon to be in pieces.
But she looked back to Wanda again, then at Pietro, her eyes widening. She could feel something fluctuate, her aura an icy flare in response to danger it didn't understand but wanted to protect her against. But it hadn't protected her against this magic, had it? It couldn't alter reality and thus couldn't affect a fake reality in turn.
"Wanda," she held her hand out, half-way extended as though offering a life line, but to what? On the other side of all of this were consequences she couldn't predict and a new understanding that nothing in the world made sense.
"I know it's hard. You've ... you've got people out there who care about you, and we're real. But God knows I'd like to disappear into a perfect world where my father didn't manipulate and beat me and my mother didn't live in a bottle and my sist.. and my sister doesn't fall into that abyss. Perfection is impossible, I should know -- I've striven for it my whole life. This could be a world where I could be a better sister than I've been. A better friend. But it's not real. He’s not real. And isn’t that worse?"
Her aura flared again and Winter was her live-action self again, cheeks tear stained and mascara running, "You have to let this go. For all the families trapped in this illusion, but most of all for yourself."
That was more than Winter had ever shared and she could see how it would be easy to escape from that. To want to. So why leave it if she could have all that fixed here?
No. No one was trapped. She never would have trapped people. Things were easier here. Simple…
Right?
With thousands of people under your thumb, all interacting with each other according to complex storylines.
They weren’t under her thumb. She wasn’t making people do anything… she wouldn’t want to do that. She wouldn’t do that.
What are you doing to her? You’re making her say this.
She’s your meat puppet, I just cut her strings.
This was insane. Agatha in that other place kept saying she was the Scarlet Witch. Chaos magic. Yes, she could get into people’s minds and show them their greatest fears but this...this…. She didn’t turn people into puppets.
I don't recognize my face in the mirror, my voice when I speak. I used to try to resist you, but now, I can't remember why. Do you?
My husband's on a business trip. Tell him I love him and not to come back here, ever.
I'm exhausted.
No you're fine. You're fine. You're all... you're all going to be fine.
As the voices from all over seemed to overwhelm Wanda, she spun to look at each person, trying desperately to convince them that they, and Winter, and everyone who was in the Hex here were going to be fine. She kept repeating that as a mantra, desperate to believe it. For it to be real.
You can’t win, Wanda. Power isn’t your problem, it’s knowledge.
And the voice was right. She didn’t know what she was doing. She could fix this if she just knew how but that? That was something she couldn’t just make happen.
She heard Winter’s words. To let this go, for the people she had trapped but also for her, but to do that…
What’s stopping you? Use your power and do it now. Heroes don’t torture people.
She had never claimed to be a hero. She just tried to do all the good she could in the best way she could.
It was as if Wanda was being pulled in too many directions, wanting to help but not knowing how, her fear and anxiety, her self doubt and self hatred, her grief and rage were causing the Hex around them to fluctuate all the more. At least until she felt Pietro cup her cheek and press a kiss to her temple.
“You know, a family is forever. We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried.”
Words she had spoken once. Perhaps she had heard them from Pietro before. They were Maximoffs, all they needed was one another. But with a look to Pietro, with the silent communication that could only happen between twins, Wanda gave a small nod of resignation and closed her eyes, ignoring the tears as she somehow found within her the way to undo the myriad of spells she’d unknowingly cast, releasing those still trapped back to reality, all the while feeling her heart shattering once more as she opened her eyes to watch Pietro vanish from in front of her until she stood there alone with Winter to the side.
"I'm sorry," Wanda said, unsure on what was appropriate for a time like this. She only knew what she'd want, or maybe need and would never have asked for. Gently, she put a hand onto Wanda's shoulder and pulled her into her arms.
Words were ... well they were hard. But she could imagine what it felt like to watch a sibling just fade away. Weiss had been just out of reach and turned to dust.
"I'm so sorry," Winter repeated, voice strained. "I'm so sorry."
Was there anything that was appropriate? No. Wanda didn’t think so. Her grief had manifested its way into something that had trapped people and to set them free, she had to lose her brother all over again. To where it felt like she had killed him, just as she had killed Vision in that other place or time.
So all she did was nod numbly at Winter’s strained apologies. Wanda knew she should apologize. Knew she should say something. But she didn’t trust her voice. As people were released from the unintended prison she had created, they either didn’t know or seem to notice her.
“I should…”
The words were quiet, strained, her accent back full force as often happened when she was caught up in her emotions. Nothing to mask. It was easy to mask her accent these days, but when she wasn’t thinking, when everything hurt...well, what was the point?
“I don’t know. I should…go.”
Go home? Or away to where she couldn’t hurt anyone?
Probably the latter. Get away, ensure she couldn’t hurt anyone else. She needed space. To breathe. To study. Assuming she would even have something to study but if she had done that without knowing how, surely if she studied she could at least avoid letting her grief and rage take control like that again.
Right?
Winter wasn't sure being alone right now was the best thing for Wanda, but she didn't want Wanda to think she needed to be watched. But what if she did? For her sake at least, if not everyone else. Winter didn't have the answers, and there was no one for her to turn to who might have the answers.
Or she turned to them, the both of them could land in very hot water.
"How about I take you home, or to my place or something. I'll order some takeout."
Wanda shrugged at the suggestion, completely drained mentally and emotionally. She had just lost Pietro all over again and she didn’t know if her heart could take it. So it was just a matter of going through the motions.
“If you want.”
"All right." Uncertainly, but gently, Winter took Wanda by the arm, one hand around her back as she guided her out of the park. Her vehicle was ... somewhere nearby. Other people seemed to be moving about as if in a daze, and she couldn't really blame them.
Honestly, she needed to call Weiss, but first she wanted to get Wanda settled and ... not alone.
Winter wasn't sure it would be a good idea to let Wanda be alone for very long at all.
Even being the cause of all of this, Wanda found herself in a daze. Though that was more from having to essentially kill Pietro to bring down the Hex and free everyone, to lose him again as opposed to being confused over what had happened. Oh, she was confused, even as somehow she was piecing together how she had done what she’d done thanks to the snippets of conversation from that other time and place she now remembered.
Perhaps if she just had known more…
But no. That wasn’t right and she needed to accept that.
As for being alone? Wanda didn’t know either even though she felt like it would be better for everyone if she were alone. Isolated from people. For now though, she allowed herself to be led away by Winter. Perhaps this was a trick. A trap. A way to get her to a military base to lock her up for what she had done, to experiment on her. It didn’t matter though. Not really.
Thinking a familiar space might help, Winter bundled Wanda into her car and drove her home. Takeout was easy - she just had to make sure her usual place had the correct address in the app, which she took care of between getting Wanda out of the car and into her home.
She also fired off a text to Weiss.
"Are you cold?" Winter asked, sitting Wanda on her couch and kneeling in front of her.
Familiar was probably good, all things considered. Being led to the couch, Wanda barely heard the question. Something about being cold. Why would she be cold? Or maybe she just should feel something. Something she definitely did not feel.
Blinking, Wanda was about to answer when suddenly there was a dog on her lap.
“What….” It only took a moment for her to place said dog, a dog who came from the other created reality. “Sparky??”
Had Sparky been real before? Or created? Though if that were the case… this was a headache. Even so, she wasn’t in a catatonic state of shock and grief anymore. Confused. But that at least was an emotion.
Winter had been wondering if some hot tea or a warm blanket might somehow help. The former usually helped her, at any rate. But before she could clarify, there was a dog.
“I didn’t know you had a dog,” Winter said, staring at the creature. They’d had one growing up, an appearances thing for father. It had been closer to Weiss, but their father had gotten rid of it when it became an inconvenience.
That was a reason Winter didn’t trust herself to have an animal. She had already abandoned her family once, why do the same to an animal eventually?
“It’s cute,” she decided. That was an appropriate reaction to sudden furry creature, right?
“I didn’t…” Well, Wanda was nothing if not straight to the point and had a blunt nature to her. Especially right now. Even so, she couldn’t help but hug the dog, worried it would disappear or die but also needing something to ground her.
“He is.”
And it was then her gaze drifted to the coffee table and noticed a book that hadn’t been there before. Straightening up, the redheaded woman shifted Sparky onto her lap so she could run her fingers over the ancient looking book, feeling the power that came from it. The Darkhold.
Clinging to something out of desperation wasn’t a good look, but Winter couldn’t blame Wanda. Even if there was context there she wasn’t fully versed in, it was clear the dog meant something, and sometimes it was enough to have something to hold on to.
Her eyes followed Wanda’s gaze, and she felt vaguely uneasy. The book looked like something out of a horror movie, or the sort of thing Salem might come after, “Wanda?”
Wanda hardly cared about if something was a good look or not. What did that even matter? Okay, yes, she knew the importance of appearances when dealing with people in professional settings. But right now? She really didn’t care.
Instead, she was focused on the Darkhold. The answers it could possibly provide. Snapping out of the haze of memories, Wanda looked over to Winter as she heard her voice.
“Yes?”
"You know what that is." Not a question, but a statement. Winter could see the recognition in Wanda's eyes, even through the haze. What she couldn't tell was if Wanda was disturbed by it, or simply stunned by it.
She hoped it was the latter, because if it was the former she had no idea what she'd do. In this life, at least.
"Are you okay?"
“Answers.” It may not have been a question, but Wanda still felt that she should clarify that fact, “At least, I think… History, prophecy…it’s…” Shrugging with a sigh, she contemplated the question of if she was okay. Was she? Hardly. She had lost all hope and given into despair, trapped people in a magical hex of different sitcoms. Something she had done in that other time and place. And now the book that told her who or what she was, what Agatha, someone she’d considered a friend, had tried to steal from her… To losing her family all over again because she had to in order to do the right thing…
“I will be.”
No. She wasn’t okay. But she would be. Somehow, even if in that moment it seemed impossible.
"Okay," Winter said, not fully knowing what Wanda meant, but in the absence of superior orders, choosing to trust her. And really, could she have trusted Ironwood to make the right decision, knowing what she did now? Her entire belief system was crumbling.
Needing a hug, thinking that Wanda probably needed one too, she allowed herself to touch her shoulder and then squeeze it.
Did Wanda know what she meant? Not entirely. The memories were there of what it was, had been explained as. The specifics…well, those were things she would need to find out on her own. She would need to read, learn, process, make sense of. Things she wasn’t in any mindset to do at the moment.
Instead she just gave a half hearted smile to Winter at the squeeze to her shoulder before absently stroking Sparky’s fur as the dog curled up on her lap. She just felt…empty.