Carol had missed her powers.
The moment they came flooding back was a moment of completion. It gave Kate’s girlfriend (or not-girlfriend, at Bishop’s insistence) a reprieve and centered Carol the way she’d needed. She was used to being a powerhouse even on her down days. While Violet Sorrengail’s bond with her dragons, Tairn and Andarna, made her a force to be reckoned with on her own, it wasn’t the same as being – well, essentially, the embodiment of space.
Every time she’d wished she was much more human than she ever could be had felt like a wish she wanted to take back the second she realized her powers were gone. They were a part of her at this point. She had been more-than-human longer than she’d ever been human, and living without them, no matter the consequence to her lifespan, wasn’t something she could truly fathom.
Having the dragons out of her head was a relief, but losing Violet was disappointing. She’d enjoyed having her around the house with Kamala this past week. It made the too-large house now that Emme was gone feel a little fuller and less lonely, and she’d even managed to put up decent shields in their training time together. She’d extended the offer for her to stay as long as she liked, instead of remaining isolated at Morningside, but she wasn’t sure yet if she’d take it. The offer remained there, whenever, and if nothing else, Carol and Kamala had found another good friend in the young dragon rider.
Now that everything was settled back in place, Carol figured that was reason enough to celebrate. She’d been good, choosing not to drown herself in drinking with Kamala depending on her still, but she couldn’t say the temptation hadn’t been tugging at her. Tonight, with Al’s coming to a close and the bouncers ushering the last stragglers out, was the perfect opportunity to indulge.
She cracked open a bottle of aqua-colored liquor behind the bar, looking up at the door when she felt this warm tingle at the back of her neck. She’d come to recognize that feeling since opening her mind to Wanda; she felt it whenever she was nearby. It was the anchor that had kept her grounded since Emmeline’s disappearance. But the real woman? Even better.
“Come in,” she called out, knowing that Wanda didn’t need her to come to the door to unlock it. She could let herself in without issue, and while she did, Carol was going to grab some glasses. Best to pour rather than drink straight from the bottle if she was going to have company.
Wanda didn’t need her to unlock it, no, but the permission granted was nice to have. She blinked, there was a click, she emerged – hair whipped up into a messy ponytail, casual jeans and a cardigan on her body. It was a late night in the office finishing up reports with the latest occurrences and making sure everything was properly documented. It was tempting to go straight home, but she owed a visit.
“Was trying to get here before you closed,” was how she greeted Carol, letting the strap of her bag slide down her arm. When she approached the bar she simply plopped it on the surface. “What are you drinking?”
Carol lifted the bottle off the counter. “This…” She turned it to read the label, written in an alien language she vaguely recognized. “‘Blue Stuff’,” she read aloud, surprise plain in the tone of her voice. She hadn’t expected that. “Huh. I guess these aliens weren’t feeling too creative the day they mixed this up.” Her eyes returned to Wanda as she poured about a finger’s worth into one of the rocks glasses she’d brought out. “Want to try?”
Blue Stuff. It took a moment for Wanda to realize that it was the literal name of the bottle and not merely a description. A slow grin spread across her face. “That depends,” she mused, claiming the stool across from Carol. “Can you decipher the alcohol content and the warning label for me? I would hate to consume something not meant for my human liver. I do not want to die.”
“I wouldn’t let you die,” Carol scoffed, grinning across the bar at her friend. She felt immediately relaxed in Wanda’s presence, no longer worried about putting on any sort of front. Her relief was palpable. “I promise you this is mild. No worse than that hallucinogenic you gave me for our bachelorette night. Less, actually. You should be free of hallucinations altogether.”
That said, she poured out a similar amount of the liquor for Wanda and nudged the glass toward her. “Try it, then I’ll pour you some regular ol’ human alcohol. I’ve got that wine you like stashed back in the office.”
Wanda hid half her face with her hand at the memory of the absinthe. It was a good night, and she was a little surprised to hear Carol referencing it considering the state of - ah, things, the shambles of life after Vallo ruined yet another marriage. But time carried on despite how they could sometimes wish it would stop, and she knew the steps. “Mixing wine with liquor is said to be a terrible idea,” she said, taking the glass.
She inspected curiously. Instead of knocking it back like a shot, she sipped it like water for that first taste - and it was as if jet fuel and raspberries assaulted her taste buds.
“If I was not awake before,” Wanda spoke out after swallowing, “I am definitely awake now.”
Carol refrained from taking a drink herself for the moment to watch Wanda and make sure the small amount she drank didn’t have any adverse effects. Most of Al’s clientele here in Vallo was some sort of non-human with appropriately non-human alcohol tolerances. The alcohol content wasn’t just higher, it was different. She always kept a close eye on any human types trying alien booze for the first time, and Wanda was no exception. If anything, Carol felt much more fiercely protective of her.
So, she was glad when, despite the look on her face, Wanda didn’t seem too put off by the taste or the jolt that accompanied the Blue Stuff. She picked up her own glass, taking the opposite tact and knocking the drink back like a shot. It was strong, but it didn’t faze her the same way it did Wanda – just a small shiver and a scrunch of her shoulders.
“Whiskey chaser?” She turned to find an appropriate bottle and another set of glasses to set out on the bar, heeding Wanda’s remark about wine – not that whiskey was necessarily a better option, but her alcohol discernment had taken a hit since she’d gone cosmic. “Tell me about your day. Must have been hellish if you were still at the DOA this late.”
Whiskey chaser. Wanda made a face at that, ready to protest, but the shrug of her shoulders was enough to signal that she was open to the idea. “Not particularly hellish, just - long,” she sighed, chin resting into her open palm. “We have been investigating portal beast sightings and false leads to portal beast sightings. I am also expecting a third one to appear - we’ve had three people see different versions of Vallo through three different portals before. We have been through two.”
And there wasn’t a way to stop it right now. They were trying to dodge another wave of people disappearing and merging with alternate versions of themselves, but that might be a dead end. Perhaps they should just prepare for that scenario.
Carol laid out two more glasses, with much healthier servings of whiskey poured inside, before she poured herself another equal-sized amount of Blue Stuff into her first glass. This time, she sipped a bit more politely while she listened to Wanda explain, studying the tired lines of her face. The news of another portal wasn’t necessarily something surprising – it made sense – but it wasn’t something she looked forward to either.
“Well, they say third time’s the charm for a reason,” she offered, setting down her glass and leaning forward on the bar. “Maybe some sort of code will finally be cracked and the whole thing will be put to rest.”
Thankfully, the portal had only decided to kidnap her once, and her memories of that other life were more like a murky dream than another life lived. All things considered, what she remembered wasn’t terrible either, but it wasn’t completely conflict-free, pain-free bliss either. She wasn’t sure she – any of them – were capable of carrying on that kind of life.
“You need a break,” she went on, voice softening as she slid one hand up Wanda’s arm. “You look like you’ve been losing some sleep.”
“I’m okay,” Wanda assured, and that was sure - she wasn’t lacking with work but the DOA had a solid team working together. Ostyia was an excellent partner to share the position with too. She grabbed the glass of whiskey and swirled it in her glass, also opting to just sip it versus shooting it down like a college girl on spring break. “I do not mind staying busy. It takes me away from the shop, though, and makes me think I should finally sell it.”
Managing it was the first job she had here. It was a nice, normal break from everything else – the Avengers hadn’t worked out for her, and learning the ropes had kept her head above water when mourning Vision felt like it could drown her at any moment.
Then she inherited it completely after Stephen and continued to work it because she felt like she had to. But she was beginning to realize that at this point, she didn’t want to anymore.
Wanda letting the tea shop go wasn’t a new possibility to Carol’s ears. It had been mentioned before, a thought still filled with indecision, and it had passed. Her opinion was neutral but not particularly relevant either way. The shop had passed to Wanda when Stephen had disappeared, and for a time, it had done a good job of keeping her occupied and distracted in ways Carol knew she needed. But it wasn’t anything she’d chosen, and as far as Carol was concerned, that didn’t necessitate a lifetime commitment.
“If you’re ready to do that, you should,” came her reply, nails pulling gently at the sleeve of Wanda’s cardigan. “You don’t have to hold onto it for Stephen’s sake, just like I don’t have to hold onto this place for Alex’s. You have to do what’s right for you. What makes you happy.”
Wanda expelled a sigh, but it was a good one. “I think letting it go will do me well,” she realized, and was pleased to know that she didn’t feel guilty about it. The shop hadn’t even been Stephen’s. He had inherited it too, but all that seemed like a lifetime ago (two, three years maybe?) and she had run its course with it. She was thankful to have had it.
But she was finding her groove in her latest position, and she was feeling more confident in it lately. Less lost, despite the lack of definite answers in some of these cases sometimes.
“Do you want it?” she smirked at Carol, nursing her drink. “You could own a bar and a tea shop. The best of both worlds.”
“Pass,” Carol replied with a breath of a laugh. “Tea shops feel a little too delicate for me. I love what you’ve done with it, but Al’s is my priority. It keeps me busy, and it’s more than enough.”
She meant that; she loved Al’s. It was where she and Emmeline had gone on their first date, and it would always be special to her for that reason. But taking it over when Alex had disappeared had made it feel much more her own – something solid and real to hold onto in a world where people, places, and things could appear and disappear in the blink of an eye.
Sometimes, she couldn’t look around here without seeing her wife somewhere, but already, those moments were becoming fewer and farther between. She was slowly making peace with the realization that Emme, like Stephen, was unlikely to come back. And there wasn’t a goddamn thing she could do to change that.
“Look at us, huh? Making mature, adult decisions without throwing photons or hexes at it. Impressive.” She shrugged as she brought her glass back up for a longer drink.
“How impressive of us to finally act our adult ages,” Wanda laughed, sighing that good sigh again, tilting the glass towards herself. There wasn’t much left. That second sip had been a courageous one, and the last one she took polished it off. “And how did your day go? Did you have dinner yet?””
“Day was fine,” Carol replied, “especially now that I have my powers back.” She took the dirty glasses ran them under the sink to rinse them out. She had lost her powers twice in the time she’d been in Vallo, and she’d hated it every time. She’d wished over the years to be just a regular girl again, here and there, but she knew, realistically, she never could. Her powers were too much a part of her for her to let them go.
“I had Troy make me a burger earlier, but I can always eat again. You hungry? I’ll take you out.”
“Sounds like a lovely time,” Wanda smiled, and then, “or a threat.”
She had skipped dinner. Most of the time she and Ostyia would catch something quick together to top the day off, but the day had simply just been that long and after shutting off the lights in her office, her next destination by choice was Al’s. “I am fantasizing over Thai noodles right now,” she groaned out, pulling her bag off the countertop.
“Happy to fulfill your fantasies,” Carol smirked. She rounded the bar, grabbing her jacket where she’d left it draped over a barstool, then stepped up to Wanda and offered a hand for her to take. “C’mon, gorgeous. Let’s get you fed.”