Chapter Text
2024. Mount Wundagore, Sokovia
November
Looking back, it would be quite a fitting end. Wouldn’t you think? The rubbles of a castle that has no meaning to herself. Looming over and threatening to crush her as she lies under it. One flick of her wrist would make all the difference between her life and death.
Not that it would matter either way.
For others, this would be a cause for celebration. It would put an end to all the horrific things that she did in her selfish quest to reunite with her family.
But who can blame her?
She feels so alone. And she hates it.
Of course, it wouldn't absolve, much less excuse everything she did.
Looking back, she realizes how fucking unfair everything is. She despised her life since she was abruptly broken out from her childhood, just like the missiles that Stark produced hit her home. Since then, her life had been one hell of a shit show. With her left disoriented, trying to understand what happened, and with Pietro helping her navigate their messed up tiny apartment to hide underneath their bed.
But throughout the chaos, she remembers still. She can still recall the sudden cold touch of her father's fingertips in her tiny hands. The warmth of blood is washing over her, which she realizes is her father's. Pietro was shaking their mother awake - her face was unrecognizable.
And then, waiting.
The agonizing wait of not knowing if they will survive the bomb that sits in their apartment. Without a bother, as if it would not have any lasting effect on them.
Then comes the orphanage - if you can even call it one.
For some reason, kids were not seen as a threat. People keep their guard down whenever they are around one. It makes them want to protect them—some sick people need to make themselves feel better knowing that they helped a child.
Pietro and she were always paired together—a beautiful pair of twins, as they say. They're told to pretend to look lost and helpless until one unknowing person approaches, enough for others to pickpocket them off whatever they have.
It was always tourists who fell for it.
What else can they do? They did it to survive. They have to.
They will be on a one-way ticket to a ditch if they don't do what they're told.
Bones broken. Face unrecognizable. Dead.
They learned that the very first day that they got into this hellhole. They are still reeling from the death of their parents.
They didn't have a choice.
They have to keep up. They have to learn. To be quick on the uptake. Or else, they'll be trampled upon.
As they grew older, their tasks changed. Pietro and she were… fortunate among the other kids; unlike the others, they were told they grew beautifully.
They didn't care what the other kids said. They used it to their advantage. They were the favorites, the chosen ones, the beloved—whatever they were called back then—for a bit more scrap of food, more tasks, a handful of cash—anything.
They were only sometimes paired together then. They don't talk about whatever they did, but they have food in their stomach and some cash to spend. What matters is that they are together.
Sometimes, Pietro still pickpockets when tasked to do so.
While her, she still distracts them.
By any means.
And it makes her sick.
Because it is, the other kids don't realize that just because they're the favorite doesn't mean they're safe.
It puts them more on their radar. Looks for them often. Making it completely impossible to try to escape from their suffocating clutches. The leering eyes and their torturous hands doing unspeakable things to satiate their lascivious thoughts.
The only comfort she had at that time was that Pietro didn't know.
No one can know.
That was the first time that she felt alone.
The hell they were in was paused when a barrage of armed men swarmed in.
Who can blame her when she drew the satisfaction of witnessing their Orphanage Director being gunned down as retaliation for drawing a gun and "violating" a contract? If any, she looked at him dead in the eye as he called for her help to call his men.
In hindsight, getting their hopes up about finally being saved from this place was foolish. Life doesn't work that way, and it is unfair.
With a gun pointed at her and Pietro's head, they were asked to volunteer for an experiment. For a great cause, they said.
In comparison, their conditions with HYDRA are better. Much better. Something about their code of ethics when she asked one man in passing. They get meals whenever requested and have beds, private bathrooms, and toilets. They even let them have a television that Pietro can watch something with along with the old sitcoms that she used to enjoy.
It took no time for them to adjust. In contrast, the others were scrambling for their bearings, from going in from one cage to another. A lavish cage compared to their old one, but a cage still. They endeared themselves by being the ones who abide by their rules. The ones who obey. HYDRA'S miracle, as Baron Strucker told them once. She supposed that when they've known a familiar hell all their life, they wouldn't fear it. It's alright because they still have each other through it all.
Then came Ultron, and it all went wrong. Horribly wrong. Right from when they managed to free themselves from the clutches of HYDRA and blindsided to fight on the wrong side.
Pietro and her were not meant to be apart. They never were. They have been together her whole life. Whenever she's around, he's guaranteed to be there. And yet, life has separated them. It has always been the two of them. And now it's just her...
It is perplexing, to be born with someone but dying apart.
It all came crashing down right after. No matter how much loss she had faced before then, it had been alright as long as her twin was there with her. But it became horrendous the moment the bullets tore at his body. It was absolutely wrong the moment she felt their connection severed brutally by his death. She felt lost by the loss of his comfort.
Some days, even now, a few years past her brother and past Ultron, she wondered if she made the right call to join the Avengers.
What had the Avengers ever done for her other than take every fucking thing that mattered to her away? What had being the good guy ever given to her? When did being the heroine pay off and make her happy? Joining had taken away her twin and the country her brother wanted to protect.
Being an Avenger had taken away her freedom. Helping the Avengers had taken away Vision's life, Natasha's life, hell, her actual life for 5 years even. Helping them again left her alone, with no one checking in on her after all she had done and lost for them.
She didn't start out as a monster—at least, she thinks so. The line between good and evil is far more porous than people would like to believe. It all stems from desire—a desire for something noble over selfishness.
She admits that she's selfish. She would call herself a hypocrite if she didn't.
She has to be.
She grew up in a place where everyone took from her. It shouldn't be a question for others that she cannot lose someone quietly when she has had to fight for everything she has all her life. It will take blood and bones to let it go. If desire and selfishness were sins, she was barreling steadfast towards the gates of hell, and well, shouldn't her damnation at least have been worth it?
Enslaving a town - albeit unknowingly at first - to live out the perfect reality she wanted. Vision is her ideal husband, who always makes her feel safe. Even the fake Pietro that Agatha sent her way made her euphoric. And her beautiful twins… they healed something within her.
The hex was the easy part; the lying, not so much. Somehow… with that knowledge, her pain didn't hurt less. But it still couldn't compare to the pain of letting them go again.
In her search for her children, she hunted down a child through the multiverse. She hurt and killed so many innocents in her pursuit. She admits that the Darkhold has corrupted her, but that doesn't change the fact that she did all those things. It doesn't excuse her actions.
But despite it all, even if she turned into a monster. A wicked being that deserves to be put down. She hopes that it could make up for all of the things that she did. Through her corrupted sense of loss, pain, and grief, she still did the right thing in the end.
Comforted that in another universe, a version of her living the life she craves exists.
So much so that she tries to take it for herself.
However, despite everything, she has realized it is different. It is not her life. It is a version of her, but it is not the same.
All of the unspeakable things that she did. For nothing.
But still, it was beautiful if you think about it. If only for comfort, that somewhere out there, there is a version of her living a great life with the children that she loves. She understands now that it's not her life to live.
However, thinking why it couldn't be her is still gut-wrenching. Why couldn't she be the one chosen by all those twisted Gods to have the life she wants? Didn't she have suffered enough loss already?
Instead, she's all by herself. And it is not fair.
She was left behind with the ghost of the people she loved. Scrambling to stay in a reality that constantly reminds her that they are dead. Bereft of all the things she wants.
Always telling her that, No, in this universe, she can't have that. Not in this one. There is no "In another universe."
It's a nice thought, but this is it. This is all she gets. It's a real shame that her life couldn't be anything but a tragedy.
She supposed it would be easier to join them in death than trying to bring them back to life - much less trying to take another version of them. With this, she would be with everyone she loves and never leave their side again. She'd be much happier.
The last of the mountain and the castle crashed when she let it go. She stayed where she was and accepted her fate.
If reincarnation exists, she hopes that she meets them again. She prays to any God who will answer to let Pietro be her brother again and to meet Natasha and Vision again. Natasha to be less damaged, but she wouldn't care less if it's not. Vision will never change and will always be the light she loved about him.
Maybe in another life. Another universe, perhaps… but why not this one?
In old times, it was said that magic followed the witch's will.
With Wanda's last thought as the rubble crushed her, her magic again acted.