Chapter Text
“Forget Peter Parker…”
The command wasn’t spoken by anyone near Wanda Maximoff. No one that could be seen, anyway.
And yet it was odd to her.
After days and nights of reading the Darkhold, including this very night, she knew all the Darkhold’s voices by now. All the voices they unlocked her to hear and needed so desperately to hear. But that voice wasn’t one of them.
“Forget Peter Parker…”
Whatever it was, it was getting louder. Closer.
“Forget Peter Parker!”
If Wanda was anyone normal, it might have just been a slight tickle she couldn’t hear, before she followed its orders subconsciously. And yet either through its power and origin, her power and origin, or all of the above, she was consciously hearing this…
For lack of a better word, order.
“Forget Peter Parker!”
It didn’t make any sense. Who or what the hell was a Peter Parker, anyway? But if something was commanding her to forget it…
That wouldn’t do. Nothing commanded her what to do anymore. So whatever this was, it wasn’t happening.
Even if her brain was starting to feel…scrambly the more she heard it. The more she felt like obeying it.
Well, if this magic voice wanted to alter the Scarlet Witch’s brain, it had another thing coming. But with this head start, she had to act quickly.
Wanda put the Darkhold aside, for now. She briefly registered herself back in her bedroom, for now. She concentrated while she still could, drawing onto power she never needed the Darkhold to amplify.
Only this time, it would cover up one person instead of an entire town.
Once Wanda was inside a personal mini-Hex, she focused on keeping the walls up around her. The harder they held, the more her brain started to fight off the voice already inside.
“Forget Peter Parker, forget Peter Parker, forget Peter Parker…”
The order got louder out there, but it wasn’t getting through. The order sounded more frequent inside her mind, but it was fading away. Soon, Wanda could only hear those three words from outside the Hex, and it was starting to fade too.
Even when Wanda couldn’t hear those words anymore, she kept the mini-Hex up, just in case. She would stay in these small walls all night if she had to, in case this attacker tried again. For some reason.
In the meantime, she could start trying to figure out why someone needed this Parker person forgotten. And what the hell any of that had to do with her.
She had far more important people to think about and get back to. The last thing she needed was an annoying, confusing distraction. And now she probably couldn’t read the Darkhold the rest of the night, just in case it came back.
So this was just one more night of delays keeping her from her boys. In that case, this Parker had really better not think of coming nearing her. Not even to say…
“Hi…I’m Peter Parker.”
…wait. Where did that come from? And why did Wanda get a flash of a battlefield just now?
No, a ruin. That ruin. The ruin of…on the day of…
No. Wanda would not think about that day again. Though among the countless days she could not, would not, let herself think about now…and never needed to again thanks to the Darkhold…it was technically one of the least horrifying.
Or maybe not. Maybe if she’d actually gotten to finish Thanos, she’d be the hero of the universe and not Stark. Maybe then someone would have cared about her later. Cared about him. Cared about getting him back before any of…
Instead, all she got after Thanos cheated her again was…
“HI…I’m Peter Parker.”
Okay, what was that from?! She couldn’t remember anyone saying that to her, spell or not. If anything, it sounded…fainter than that. Something she only heard at a distance, if she heard it at all. Before…
“Don’t worry.”
Okay…that she did say that day. Before all the other women somehow knew to show up at the exact same time. But that Captain Marvel one was already there when she landed, along with…
“Hi…I’m Peter Parker.”
“Hey, Peter Parker. You got something for me?”
He had Thanos’s gauntlet. That’s why she came down to join him. He had the gauntlet…Peter Parker had the gauntlet and he also had…
A suit on. A suit she’d only seen before in…
An airport.
A suit she tried to crush with cars at an airport. But he got out of the way. Because he was…
And then…the only time she saw him without that suit on…was when he wore a regular person suit at the funeral. Because he was…
Stark’s Spider-boy. Man. Spider-Man.
Peter Parker was Spider-Man.
This was about Spider-Man. Or at least about the…startlingly young boy playing Spider-Man. A boy she fought against, fought alongside with and mourned with, for about two seconds combined. A boy she only ever said two words to in her whole life.
And something just tried to control her mind to forget him. Forget a boy she already forgot about before now. A boy who, as far as she knew and with what little she knew of him, was likely all the way in New York. Far away from here and anything she was trying to do.
So in that case…it wasn’t really her problem.
All right then. Nothing to worry about. She could take down the mini-Hex, get back to what and who actually mattered, and if some voice tried again to make her forget…some unimportant boy…then no harm done.
Not her problem.
***********************************
And yet here it was being a massive pain in the ass problem. That night, and every night for about four weeks. Until she just couldn’t sleep.
Which meant she couldn’t see the boys. Which meant she was very angry. And she barely understood why.
Well, it was because she had to stay in this nightmare world longer than she had to. Because she couldn’t escape to the dream with the boys. Because thinking about this Peter Parker thing was keeping her awake. So she knew why she was upset – but not why this caused it.
She didn’t know any Parker, not really. So why was it so important she forget what little she knew about him? What made him so important to someone with…maybe half as much power as her?
Or was he so important, someone couldn’t risk her knowing how important he was?
What if…
What if he was really the child with multiverse powers? She’d only just started researching this America girl and seen little of note yet. What if she got it wrong, and it was really someone who already had powers? Maybe he got some extra ones after coming back, just like she did.
A spider-boy who lived in New York. Just like the former and current Sorcerer Supreme did. Oh perfect. What if they knew…no, they couldn’t. Since when did they take any interest in her?
It’s not like they showed up to check on her before, during or even after Westview. They didn’t care about her enough to see if she was all right or offer any help – just like everyone else. They didn’t even care enough when she became a threat.
Certainly Stephen Strange wouldn’t. Maybe Wong would, but it’s not like he noticed her anyway. And it’s not like Strange could have overruled him now if he cared enough. No, they and their sorcerers were just like the others who never cared – until they needed someone or needed a villain – and never would.
So then, if they cast a spell to make Wanda forget Peter Parker…they must have thought it would help them stop her. But then how could they know what she was planning already? She’d barely even started, so then how could they know? What did they know?
What did he know?
That was it. That was what kept Wanda from sleeping and seeing Billy and Tommy. What if somehow, someway, this Peter kid was either the key to getting them back…or the key to stopping her? Or that either way, they tried to make her forget so she didn’t see it coming?
Either way, she couldn’t sleep. Either way, this could keep her from them, whether temporarily or for much longer. Either way, it was a distraction.
And there could be no more room for distractions.
****************************************
Wanda wasn’t crazy. Not in any way they’d think they had a right to accuse her of. But she especially wasn’t crazy in the sense of losing her mind. She still had it just fine.
She had it well enough to get herself to New York, without landing on anyone’s radar. Two years of being on the run taught her those skills long before the Darkhold. Back when her only teacher was…
Someone she felt an…unnecessary twinge in her heart for thinking of right now. So best not to think of her again. In any capacity.
In any case, she had enough of a mind to know confronting Strange, or anyone at the New York Sanctum, would be a terrible mistake. She could force them to tell her what they knew about Parker very easily, but it would do more harm than good in the bigger picture. Especially on the off chance they didn’t know anything.
This meant the way to find out was through Parker. And that too required a stable mind. Which she had.
Enough to know the fastest way to find him was through Spider-Man. Enough to keep herself hidden at night, wait to see Spider-Man on patrol, and then track him to his home.
Fortunately, she found him at work pretty quickly. Unfortunately, he took a really long time to stop swinging through the city. In fact, it kind of felt like he was…straining to find crime where there was none by the end of the night. Straining to keep his workload going as long as he could.
There was a fine line between saving people as a commitment and as a crutch. All these years with superheroes taught her that much. While they still bothered to remember she existed, anyway.
The kid at least never really knew she existed. Not enough to go near her when they weren’t in battle, anyway. But in this one case, that could work to Wanda’s advantage. At least once he finally stopped and revealed his lair.
At last, he made his final stop at a fairly unimpressive apartment building. Which was kind of weird, but also kind of a break. Kind of weird it wasn’t at any of Stark’s places, since he was his heir or son or some other rumor she only took note of once or twice. Yet it was still the break she needed to reach him easier.
And with her right mind, Wanda knew just what her in would be.
*********************************************
The next afternoon, the boy no one knew as Peter Parker – or so he knew and could never ever forget – returned to his apartment room after GED practice. If he studied further and rested without sleeping for one hour, he could start patrolling well before sunset and not have to come back till after midnight.
That should cut down on his sleep time by about 20-30 minutes. Hopefully. At this point, he’d take whatever minutes he could save himself.
Peter willed himself to lay on his bed and read his textbooks without closing his eyes. He willed himself not to look at his desk, and anything on it from…before that he still couldn’t get rid of. He willed himself to stop thinking of how the shop and…they…caught the corner of his eye today, because he forgot to stay on the furthest route home away from them.
Home. It was a wonder he could even think the word. Though it was the closest he’d ever come to it again.
Peter closed his eyes and willed himself to stop thinking about it. Which didn’t help his will to stay awake, so that was a wash. But fortunately, a loud knock on the door stole his attention.
Being hassled for rent, days before it was due, was as good a distraction as any now.
Peter got himself on his feet, headed to the door and got his excuses lined up in a row. But they all left his mind, along with most every other thought, once he opened the door and faced…
…someone who wasn’t Mr. Ditko.
This was someone a lot more feminine than him. Certainly a lot prettier than him – in an objective way and not in a gross objectifying way. So he’d say if…someone else was here. And this person was certainly a lot less familiar than him.
Maybe…
“Hello. My name is Lizzy,” the woman spoke in an almost pitchy American accent. “There’s a chance I might be your new neighbor.”
What the…
***************************************
If Wanda’s astral form could come out and pat herself on the back, it would. But that would just blow her cover.
Creating fake money with foolproof counterfeit magic, just so she could pay her way in as a prospective tenant, was the most magic Wanda wanted to use here. If she tried to read Parker’s mind and he sensed it or something, it would either accelerate his potential threat or create it. So this foolproof character would have to do to throw him off.
Since he barely ever saw or met her before, Peter would have no reason to recognize her. If he suspected, that was what ‘Lizzie”’s voice was for. And if all went well, she wouldn’t even have to keep it up for long.
A few more minutes of this introduction should cover it for now.
“I haven’t been to New York in a while. So I’m looking for a place to stay until I find a bigger place to stay. Mr. Ditko said I could stay next door for a night to try it out. So if you hear anything tonight, that’s me doing nothing special.”
“So what do you think? You think this place is anymore special? Don’t worry, you can be brutally honest with me, fella!”
Nailed it.
*********************************************
“Don’t worry…”
The last time a voice that sounded just like that said that to Peter…only with a far softer half-American accent…was….
And the last time he saw eyes like that…they could barely look anyone, especially families, in the eye after…after…
Holy f-
No. No, don’t swear or even stammer to yourself. If this is…then she’ll hear.
But if that’s her, what’s she doing here? In this apartment, talking about renting that room? And telling him about it? Why would she be remotely near him?
Unless….
No. No, don’t even dare to think about that. If he did and she heard, then she’d know anyway. But she doesn’t. No one can. That’s the whole point of…everything.
If Strange or Wong didn’t remember, then there’s no way she did. Or maybe that’s a way too narrow, male dominated assumption. Or so…someone else who couldn’t possibly be here would say. But she couldn’t possibly be here either, and yet there she is.
Calling herself Lizzie. Not…
Maybe that made it okay. If she remembered, she’d just tell him who she really was, and she didn’t. Plus they never formally met anyway, so why would she come here just to see him?
Maybe this was some giant coincidence, and she was running some other mission here. And it just happened to take her here because of regular old Parker luck, not catastrophic magic bad luck. That he could roll with.
What kind of mission or some other thing would bring her here, then? That…was not his problem.
“Peter, not your problem?”
No no no, he wasn’t supposed to think about…that till his dreams. And staying up and going on patrol longer was supposed to keep those dreams away longer. That was the deal. Granted, no one was around to hear it or take it, but something out there owed him!
Or maybe it threw this at him out of some final spite. Either way, Peter could be just as stubborn too.
“Well…if you’re looking for places to stay before you find a better place, this is the place. But if the wait’s too long, don’t hold the place against it. At least within Mr. Ditko’s earshot.”
“You know this from experience?”
“Some. Not a lot yet. But I guess I should savor that sweet spot while I can.”
“Cool. Maybe I will too. Maybe you’ll still be in it waiting for me, Mr…”
“Oh, no, I’m no Mr, believe me. I’m just…Benjamin.”
“Ben, eh? Anything after –”
“Benjamin. Please, I’m sorry, just…it’s one thing to be Benjamin. It’s another thing to be Ben.”
Oh, hell. He hadn’t given that much away about his new name in a month. If she was using mind control to make him, he would have felt it, right? Otherwise, why would he say that to someone he didn’t even know? Kinda.
“Sorry. I’ll let you get back to being Benjamin, then. Good luck. In case we don’t see each other again.”
“K, see you then or never then…Miss Lizzie. Good luck.”
Peter closed the door and ran to the window, in case her mind reaching powers had a radius limit. Which they probably didn’t.
One more reason why he could not be around someone from…back then. Even someone barely part of his…back then. If he couldn’t stay away from them, how could he keep it up with…
One more reason patrol would need to start an hour early.
**************************************************
Wanda’s right mind had gotten her this far. Getting into Parker’s building, fooling him with “Lizzie”, and now investigating his room while he was on patrol.
And in the best-case outcome, there was no evidence of any multiversal energy or aura in his room. Nothing written down in his books, save for school notes and some kind of impressive suit designs. Nothing else to indicate he was Spider-Man or any greater threat to…anything.
So now what was left?
Wanda already ruled out reading his mind. She couldn’t use her powers here at all, in case some bystander got in the crossfire and put unwanted attention on her. She couldn’t risk bringing the Darkhold here, even with the withdrawal right now.
She could just conjure it over here, but she’d never read or used it when people were within 100 miles of her before. She certainly had enough of nosy neighbors stumbling onto her magic, that was for sure.
If she stopped for a moment, something long dormant would have told her that before, she wouldn’t risk using the Darkhold in civilization because she couldn’t risk hurting someone. Again.
So she couldn’t stop.
Honestly, it was a little annoying to figure out what Wanda could do. She came here to see if Parker knew anything, and he clearly didn’t. She came to see if he had access to magic or magical friends that could get in the way, and it didn’t seem likely. She came to see why he was so important, something didn’t want her to even know his name. And it didn’t look like she’d get it from him.
Maybe she’d wait for him to get back from patrol, figure some strategy out from there, and then leave. She’d really have to leave soon anyway.
Even waiting around next door, waiting to sense when he got back, was aggravating. Mainly because without reading the Darkhold to pass the time, there was nothing to do here. Nothing but think.
Thankfully, there wasn’t much to think when reading the Darkhold. But after these last few days without it…days now filled with a lot more time and a lot less distractions from thinking about…
Vision. The man who would never dream of getting his sons back by…no.
Westview. The screams of those who suffered because of her and who…no longer had to matter now.
Monica. The woman who offered to be her ally and who let her escape Westview, but if she saw her now would…not matter. It…no longer had to.
Agatha. Trapped in Westview, and thank goodness, because otherwise she’d be gloating and…doing other stuff that meant nothing.
Every Avenger who never gave her a second thought after the funeral, never gave her a thought during and after Westview, and would only ever want to see her again to stop her now. Because every one of them were never…
Even the ones who never knew her. Like Parker. Who only lost the great Tony Stark. Why, as always, was he so important that no one could think of anything or anyone else? No one else who lost anything…no one else who died…no one else being experimented on under their noses…
But if they bothered to see that, maybe Westview wouldn’t have happened. And then maybe the boys wouldn’t have happened. Then what would be left now…?
More things Wanda just couldn’t think about anymore.
More things she had a book for, so that such thoughts were not necessary anymore. A book she couldn’t read again until this little sideshow was done.
So this kid had better get back soon. Or she’d better get tired enough to dream again soon.
Thankfully, the end result was the latter.
***************************************************
“Mom, look what we made!”
“Mom, Tommy started it!”
“That was the best episode yet, Mom!”
“We love you, Mom…”
“Spider-Man’s real name…is Peter Parker!”
“WHAT THE – ”
“Mom, can we be witches for Halloween, like you?”
“It’s not about me…I mean, this is really hurting a lot of people.”
“Mom, Billy’s lying, I swear!”
“Basically everyone that knew that I was Spider-Man before should still know!”
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Come on, Strange. Have a heart.”
“Mom, you look funny…”
“Peter Peter Peter…no good deed goes unpunished…”
“I’m right here…we’re okay. Just me and you…”
“She’s gone…and it’s all my fault. She died for nothing.”
“I may have struck the blow. But…you are the one that killed her!”
“Make everyone forget who Peter Parker is. Make everyone forget…me”
“We’d have no memory of you. It would be as though you’d never existed.”
“Do it.”
“I love – ”
“Just wait. Wait and tell me when you see me again.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Uh…no.”
“Mom?”
“What are you doing, May? Please, will you just wake up and talk to me, please?”
“They’re here because of you!”
“You are the one that killed her!”
“Mom?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so so sorry….”
And then after a while, the boys didn’t even show up. But the rest of it just…kept…replaying. Over and over, more and more nightmarish, every time.
Until Wanda finally woke from the nightmare.
And realized it wasn’t her nightmare she woke up from.
******************************************************
She hadn’t experienced someone else’s nightmares in so long. She hadn’t had the chance to in so long. But this was just so…loud. And unceasing. And thorough. And….
And…
It explained everything.
After watching it on a loop four different times before waking up, it had to.
Spider-Man’s identity exposed. Spider-Man going to Strange. Spider-Man and Strange’s botched spell proving the multiverse was real – and could be broken into. But Wanda couldn’t even savor that conformation. Not when she kept seeing…and feeling…
His aunt dying. Him blaming himself, because he tried to save villains instead of letting them die. His other selves picking him back up, then being sent back. Leaving him to…
Oh. Oh…oh….
She was wrong. About all of it. That spell wasn’t meant for her to forget him. And because she blocked it out…now…
Oh…
She was the only person in this entire universe who didn’t forget him. Not his girlfriend, his best friend, his fellow heroes…his dead aunt. Just Wanda.
All alone, with no one alive who knew him or wanted to know him. With a dead loved one whose death he blamed himself for, and with no one who could tell him otherwise. No friends, no family, the life he had as Peter Parker destroyed forever, until only Spider-Man remained.
That and the nightmares and guilt. No matter how hard he worked to distract himself and stop thinking…stop feeling…stop caring about…
Oh God…
“I was so wrong…”
Wanda covered her mouth, not trusting herself to stay this quiet. Not when those horrible sights…those memories…kept running through her mind. Not when they kept telling her Parker – Peter – was no threat…but a horrible, horrible victim.
Not when she hadn’t felt so much pain, guilt, loss, hopelessness, self-loathing, fear, longing to make apologies no one would hear, and longing for another world since…since…
Before she read a book to stop feeling any of it. To reach that other world where it didn’t matter.
But she could get there. He couldn’t. He was stuck here when…when he didn’t...he really didn’t deserve…
“Oh God…Peter…”
Oh God…and he was still dreaming.
******************************************
Before Wanda could catch herself, she raced out of her room and found herself at Peter’s door. She caught herself right as she was about to knock on it, wake him up and…
….do what?
She couldn’t exactly tell him the truth. About how she now knew his nightmares, why she knew them, who she was at all…and even if she did…
Then what? What was she, of all people, supposed to say to someone who…faced all that? Someone who was…
Screaming himself awake right now. She didn’t need powers to hear that. Powers which barely abated and faded from her fist, inches before it stopped from pounding the door down.
Though again, if she barged in and found him like that, then what?
“Heroes don’t torture people…”
And heroes know how to take away someone else’s pain. Without magic or mind control. Wanda never knew how to do that. How could she? She wasn’t someone who healed someone’s else pain. She didn’t even try to stop after she knew she was causing pain.
She was planning to inflict pain on another child after she left here. So what business did she have helping another kid through his pain? Pain that was…
So much like hers. Only it wasn’t all his fault. And the punishment did not fit the crime.
So then what could she do about that? Why should she even care? This wasn’t her kid. And they needed her more.
Leaving aside how…they were happy over there with that Wanda. Something far harder to block out without the Darkhold.
They were happy there and Peter was so miserable in here. And she was the only one on this Earth who knew it. If she didn’t do anything about it anyway, what did that make her?
Someone who couldn’t do any good about it anyway. How could she? And why should she when none of them bothered to see or heal her pain, before she caused her own?
…but she didn’t bother either. She locked herself in her cabin, away from the world and all its news. Including Spider-Man being exposed.
If she’d heard about it back then, and still chosen not to come back and help him…even though her of all people knew what it was to be hated like that. And to have it happen to someone innocent…
If that wouldn’t have moved her to help before Strange’s spell, and it probably wouldn’t have…that made her no better than those who forgot her and Vis after the Blip, didn’t it? So she really had no place to think she could help Peter. Or even should.
But he was in so much pain and was so lonely…just like her.
But since when did she care about anyone’s pain but her own?
Why should someone who doesn’t deserve such pain keep suffering for that, though? Why is it fair she was the only lifeline he might have? The only one who could ever understand.
But why was it her responsibility, when she was gonna leave this universe forever with her boys soon anyway? Why was anything else here her responsibility anymore?
“With great power…must come great responsibility.”
That line kept ringing through Peter’s nightmares. And now it was ringing through Wanda’s mind too. A line that clearly meant much more to him than just being her aunt’s last words. It felt more like a mantra.
One completely foreign to Wanda.
So then why was she here, starting to think she had any business helping someone like that? She wasn’t someone who cared about such things anymore. If she ever was. And yet she still felt so much from him that absolutely wasn’t fair…why couldn’t she just…
Because the Scarlet Witch would never.
But what about Wanda?
What about Wanda? Without the Darkhold and her boys around, what use was Wanda? What use had ever been Wanda?
“Stop it…”
What use could a mind controlling, town abducting murderer and torturer be for someone actually good, like Peter? What use was she without the Scarlet Witch or the Darkhold to do anything that really mattered?
Why did she need to be here? Why did she need to be anywhere? What good could she do here when she could never be good again? So why not just go, get the Darkhold and just go back to stop caring, like everyone else has?
“Stop it…”
She didn’t even know what side of the argument she was saying it to. But what did either answer say about her? What did it say that she could only ask it without the Darkhold around? All while Peter needed just one person who could actually help him…
…and all he had as an option was the enemy…
“Stop it stop it stop it STOP IT!!”
“…Lizzie?”
*****************************************************
Peter was desperate to hear anything. Anything beside the echoes of his screams when he woke up. The echoes of May’s last breath, his last kiss with MJ, his last handshake with Ned, the last everythings…
So when he heard yelling outside, he rushed out more eagerly than he should have. Though his eagerness was replaced with confusion when he saw who was there – again.
He barely remembered to call her by her new made-up name. He could barely remember any theories on why she was here with any name. This afternoon, or especially right this second.
But it was something different to think about. So that was more than enough right now.
After she made her way inside, the two of them just stood around at a loss. Peter had been walking and stumbling around since he woke up anyway, so at least the worst of that was behind him. Tonight, anyway. But as for…
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she finally uttered. “I’ll just go…”
“Wait, hold on,” Peter said, almost far too quickly. “If you don’t know, you gotta have theories, right? Maybe sounding them out loud will narrow it down.”
“It’s too late for that…”
“Nah, it’s just four hours till sunrise, that’s plenty of time! I’m not going back to sleep anyway, so you’re not putting me out,” Peter assured, not sure if that much was too suspicious. Yet he might need to be blunt regardless.
“I…kinda need to get out of my head for a while,” Peter undersold. “I’m not saying that to guilt you! But if you need stuff outta your head too, I could help you tidy up. Trust me, all evidence to the contrary in here, I’m a good cleaner.”
“You don’t want to hear it. No one ever does. No one who’s still alive or here. And I can’t even…”
“Try me. I’m tougher than I look. Usually.”
Peter stopped himself. Going further along those lines defeated the purpose of this. Maybe getting her to talk about her problems was a manipulative way to avoid his own, for just two seconds. Maybe it meant the Peter from…before was slipping away even further.
He’d care about that later. Now he just needed to stop hearing and seeing them for a minute. He had the rest of his life to see and hear them, even though he’d never really see them again. Just a little bit of a break wasn’t so unreasonable. And if it helped him figure out why she was really here…
“I had children.”
…okay, that helped and made nothing make sense at the same time.
“I lost the man I loved. Before I got Blipped. When I came back alone, I was pregnant. Then I had my baby boys. Then…I did things that made me have to lose them. But lately…someone’s been helping me find a way to get them back.”
“I just have to tie up a few little things here, and then I can do it. But this is the longest I’ve gone without…hearing their ideas in a long time. With that distance and with…other stuff I’ve learned lately, it’s making me feel, remember and think things. Things that almost killed me to keep remembering after I lost my boys.”
“Those things don’t matter anymore. They can’t. If I let myself think they do, I’ll never get them back. And then I have…no reason to be here…be anything…anymore…”
As Peter worked to translate Wanda’s story, Wanda found herself feeling more than just the usual misery. There was something else niggling in her besides the heartache now.
“I’ve never told anyone about this…” she realized just as she said it out loud. And willed herself not to dwell that she still couldn’t say everything.
“After how I lost my boys, I couldn’t talk to anyone. And no one wanted to talk to me. No one still on Earth. Except the one helping me now. But no one wanted to talk to me when I lost my husband either. And unlike me and everyone else, he couldn’t come back. Just like everyone else who’s ever loved me here…”
Wanda had never said this out loud either. For a long time, if at all. As if anyone who knew her didn’t know. But Peter didn’t know. How could he…
…oh. Maybe he didn’t know regarding her. But he knew. That Wanda knew now.
Though it’s not like she could point that out without revealing everything. Scaring him. Revealing how her mind violated his, as it relieved his most horrible trauma. Proving once and for all…
“I lost my aunt.”
Both of them were amazed to hear those words from Peter’s mouth. For vastly different reasons. But regardless of original intent, the dam had broken for Peter. Finally.
“It was way after the Blip. And it was my fault. I…trusted the wrong person, and it got her killed. My mistakes…made it impossible to let anyone else get that close to me again. I don’t have anyone I can get back. But I guess you do.”
“I don’t think I can do it in a way…someone like you would.”
“You’d be surprised,” Peter surprised them both with his bitterness.
“There’s a lot of things I can do that I wouldn’t have before. I learned that much. And this is where it got me. No family, no friends, no…world left. Years of losing everything and everyone else I loved, and this is what happens after…the last straw. So if I could ever get it back without my stupid conscience saying it’d be wrong, at this point I just might…”
Peter finally got himself to stop. Finally remembered he’d offered to talk, so he didn’t think about this stuff for a while. But only thinking about it to himself was all he could do. All he could ever do anymore. Until…
Wanda finally got herself to stop. Stop spiraling about how…familiar everything Peter just said was. Right down to leaving out the more fantastical parts. Yet the loss and bitterness at the core…
Wanda should have felt validated that someone like Peter – like an actual hero – thought these things. It should have justified her feelings and then some. Yet the thought of him thinking and feeling like this didn’t feel so assuring. It just felt unfair.
“I’ve never told anyone this stuff before,” Peter broke through the inner monologue. “And that’s the truth. I never had the chance to tell someone before.” Not as far as the world knew now.
Now only two people knew why, instead of one. And now two hearts were aching over it. Though they could never share exactly why.
“It’s not like…” Peter found himself nearing another taboo topic. Now that someone else could hear about it.
“Something else really bad happened. Before all that. And it made me feel like the whole world was against me. I mean, I had my aunt and about four or five other people who weren’t. But it still wasn’t enough. And there were a ton of other people I knew! People who saw the real me a bunch of times! And none of them offered to help or speak up for me, before it got so much worse! Not even Mrs. P…”
“So it’s no wonder I turned to…I mean, it’s no wonder I didn’t remember to call…but that doesn’t mean she had to…and then…”
Peter was failing miserably at this. But of course he was. Why should that stop now? Why did he think, still, he could ever be near anyone and not…
“I’m sorry.”
His spiraling stopped, for now. From words he’d said a hell of a lot more than he’d heard directed at him. Lately and otherwise.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
Even more words Peter never expected to hear. From someone who never expected she could ever be capable of saying them. Lately and otherwise.
“Nobody deserves to lose that much. Or feel that alone.”
Maybe one person. Maybe that much. The more Wanda’s own thoughts and memories were the only ones she heard, the more…but this wasn’t about her.
For once, something wasn’t about her.
“I’m sorry…not enough people were there when you needed it. Especially if they knew and did nothing. If they didn’t know, then…”
If Wanda knew. If she knew anything going on besides her own pain. But she still wouldn’t have cared.
She should have, though. Just like they should have. For him and her. Yet maybe, just maybe…their own struggles and losses made it impossible to see anyone else’s too. Like it did for Wanda.
Even though someone with far better magic than Strange’s could have helped him – maybe enough to stop so much tragedy, for once. If she cared to notice. But she didn’t. So what right did she have to attack their ignorance?
Maybe she still did, because they still turned out okay. As far as she knew. Among those alive, it was just her who didn’t. And now just Peter.
So she wasn’t alone in this world after all. And yet, a larger part than there would have been if she’d read the Darkhold lately…hated that she wasn’t.
“I really am sorry…Benjamin. If you hadn’t heard that in a while, then I really am sorry.”
All Peter could do was sit in front of his bed, and try to settle down his breathing before it went from shaky to full on sobbing. During the struggle, he felt Wanda sit down beside him more than he could see it. See anything beyond his tunnel vision of loss and everything that was taken – everything he gave away.
Until he felt a small hand squeeze his own.
“My husband was so much better at this than me. And…I haven’t thought about him in a really long time. I couldn’t. But I hope I remembered enough to…”
Peter turned his head and saw Wanda. And for all he still couldn’t work out and decode about her story, he still felt like he really saw her.
“I really am sorry too…Lizzie. I’m sorry not enough people were there when you needed it. Especially if they knew and did nothing. If they didn’t know, then…they really should have. I really wish they did. It might have helped a lot…”
Peter couldn’t apologize directly, for not talking to Wanda during and after Mr. Stark’s funeral. He couldn’t apologize directly for knowing someone else lost someone permanently too, and yet he didn’t seek them out anyway.
If he knew that and was too wrapped up to even say hello or a sorry, then how irresponsible was…to say nothing of them...
But somehow, someway, he was here with her now. Far too late for him, and maybe her. Yet…
Yet having her here, even just to hold his hand and sit on an uncomfortable floor with his, right as they were exhausted from saying more than they had in months…from saying so many crushing things bottled up for months…
It felt better than he’d ever felt tonight before she came in. Better than most any night since he’d lost his dream home.
She went back to sleep beside him, feeling the exact same and so much more.
*****************************************************
When Peter woke up hours lately, after his least nightmarish stretch of sleep in ages, he knew exactly who and what was responsible.
When Wanda woke up 20 minutes later, in the least painful way she’d woken up in ages, she knew exactly who and what was responsible. Only to find he wasn’t there.
For a moment, Wanda thought she’d imagined it. Warped reality in her sleep and imagined Peter, his dreams, his horrible loss and his somehow still kind words, just to feel something besides the Darkhold’s words.
Words and plans that never made her feel as…comforted – even when they pointed her to her boys – as Peter’s presence had. Assuming it had ever happened.
She seemed to be in his room, but maybe she just made her own look that way. That might make more sense than someone actually talking to her, sharing their pain and understanding hers, even with all she left out. Of course it did….,
“Morning!”
Peter coming into the room with a full tray of coffee…didn’t automatically prove Wanda hadn’t conjured all this. But it didn’t disprove it.
“I didn’t know if I should get you black coffee, red stuff, or something else less predictable. So I got them all! It ate into my rent savings, but one good picture today should fix that quick.”
With surprising but perhaps not that surprising grace, Peter held up the tray of four coffee cups and set them on his desk, taking the one he ordered for himself. Leaving Wanda to get up and look confusingly at the ones Peter got for her.
It was the first gift she’d gotten without magic, in a non-Hexxed place, from a person born outside her head since…she couldn’t remember anymore. Which made the fact it was coffee, and not the boys or anything that could get them to her…
It was less important than it would have been before.
“Thank you,” Wanda said equally unfamiliar words, as she sipped the non black/red stuff and smiled at the very real taste.
“Thank you too. I wanted to say that and get you something for the road, while I still could. I mean, you spent most of your trial run in my room instead of yours, and you got a lot more important things to do. So you’ll be leaving soon, right?”
Peter said it quite accurately. And yet a little layer of him said it quite sadly.
One night of half-truths and cover stories to hide the worst of their mistakes, did not a full healing make. Especially when the key to truly healing Wanda had been neglected long enough, and was clearly not threatened by anything in this building. So it really was time to go after a trial run of staying here failed, as the cover story would back up.
Then it was back to normal. A normal where it would still be months before she could get the kids. Longer if…other things were reviewed.
A normal where she’d wake up alone, after hours of seeing them. Wake up to a nightmare. And to mornings where no one gave her a coffee, agonized about what she’d like, and put a dent in his rent money to thank her for anything.
“No one’s…gotten coffee for me…since…”
“Yeah.”
Even after all that time in line, Peter was no closer to decrypting every detail of Wanda’s story. The most important thing he knew was that she hadn’t had anyone around, not even to spend a little time with, in a while. Let alone to get her something to drink for a road trip.
So yeah.
This was the very least he could do for all that. For anyone. But something after a long time of nothing…felt like everything. And losing it just after getting a taste of it back…would have to be ignored at least till she left.
Wanda didn’t need to read his mind to know any of that already, though. She still couldn’t risk it, just in case. But now it felt like it did when she swore never to read the Avengers’ mind again. Wrong out of basic human decency instead of strategy.
Even just a taste of performing such decency, after going so long without it, felt like everything. And losing it just after getting a taste of it back…after getting a taste of human company who wanted to listen to her, instead of villainize or fear her – albeit without knowing the facts…
“Maybe I don’t need to go right now. At least not today.”
Wanda’s half-second of shock over saying that, was instantly forgotten after the half-second of Peter’s wide smile in return.
It did roar back when their little coffee hangout was done, he left for GED and then Spider-Man stuff, and Wanda had absolutely nothing to do in the meantime. Enough that she swore she really would leave the next morning.
But when she woke up to a knock on her door, a “Morning!” from Peter, and another coffee instead of hours of mourning lost time with the boys…she gave it another day.
Then when she woke up early the next morning, got the impulsive idea to knock on his door and say “Morning” instead of leaving him to his own nightmare recovery…his relieved smile and their longer morning talk made her give it two more days.
For starters.