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The voices were starting to annoy Peter.
Nobody was there. He knew that. But that didn’t stop him from jumping in his skin every time he heard laughing or gasps from behind him and turned to see no one was there. Even worse, no one else seemed to hear them. When he asked his parents and Uncle Ben about it, they told him no one was there. He’d gotten some weird looks for it as well. But he trusted them. If they said there were no strange sounds, then there were none. And if they said all was well, then nothing was amiss.
Peter had lived in Westview for as long as he could remember. Only because he couldn’t remember his life before it Peter wasn’t one to brag, but he had a pretty perfect life here. He had amazing friends, a perfect family, the sweetest neighbours (who he basically lived with half the time, Wanda had even set up a room for him in the house) and a great internship at Computational Services Incorporated. Granted, he wasn’t exactly sure what they did there, but he supposed he’d find out if he ever got promoted when he was older.
He was officially interning under the boss, Mr Stark, but at some point he’d been roped into helping with the computers after some kind of power outage scrambled all the servers and now he was Mr Vision’s unofficial assistant. See, he’d never actually met Mr Stark. But his reputation preceded him so interning under him, even legally speaking and not actually, was an honour. Peter was sure he would get to meet him someday.
It seemed that everyone was still having trouble with the new computers that Mr Stark had designed for the office, and as the resident “wiz kid”, it was his job to explain how they worked.
“Gee kid, you sure know how to use this new tech. It was just last week they got introduced around here. Where did you ever learn how to use them so well?” Norm asked, bright eyes staring thoughtlessly at him.
Huh. That was weird. It felt like he had always been using them, his fingers moving over the keys like second nature. Yet they were brand new. He couldn’t remember ever reading a manual for them either. So how did he know how to use them? It must be his natural instincts with tech, the very skills that landed him the internship in the first place, he knew. But it still felt wrong. Natural smarts didn’t usually include knowing which buttons to press on new tech, or which wires to check when a screen was glitching.
“I read the manual, sir,” Peter lied, a bright smile involuntarily painting itself across his face. The words didn’t feel like his. He shook the thought from his head as he walked over to Mr Vision’s desk, waving at Mr Stark’s office window, just in case he was there. He wasn’t.
“Peter,” Vision greeted, appearing behind him holding a cup of coffee.
With a tilt of his head Peter jokingly said, “I thought you didn’t drink… well, anything?”
“Well, yes, I got it for you,” He responded with a laugh, passing the cup over. With a small smile, Peter thanked him and took a sip. Peter wouldn’t say that Vision was a bad cook, though he was no Gordon Ramsay. Gordon Ramsay? Where had that come from? Who was that? Apparently his less than impressive skill set extended to coffee.
“Are you sure that’s coffee?”
Vision raised an eyebrow, taking the question literally. “I assume so. I copied what I observed Norm preparing earlier. Is it not good?”
Not wanting to hurt Vision’s feelings, Peter replied, “No, no. It’s good! I assume you don’t need help with the new computers?”
“No, I seemed to be able to speak their language,” Vision joked, Pete swore he could hear a round of laughter in response, but a quick glance around showed no one was even giggling. Peter swallowed the growing lump in his throat. Where were the voices coming from? Where were they coming from?
“That reminds me, Wanda and the boys will not stop telling me how much they miss you. They were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner?”
Wanda’s cooking was to die for, literally, and the twins were entertaining company to say the least. Last time he went over they’d begged to cook dinner for us and proceeded to cover the entire kitchen with silly string instead. String Cheese Surprise, they had called it.
“Besides you have to meet Pietro.”
“Everything went downhill after Ultron, kid. The team started to crack. Pietro died, Wanda was broken. I’m just trying to build a better tomorrow for when the avengers just can’t anymore. That’s where you come in, kid. Well, hopefully not just you. There’ll be more.”
There it was again. A voice. But not like the others he would sometimes hear. It wasn’t laughter or gasping. It was a distant voice, like that of someone he had once known from a dream. Or like a childhood friend he couldn’t quite remember the name of.
“Peter? Peter, are you okay?”
“Oh yeah sorry, just, uh, got lost in thought for a moment. What did you say?” He tried to play it off, leaning against Vision’s desk.
“I just said if you came over tonight you’d get to meet Pietro,” Vision said, still very obviously concerned.
“That’s Wanda’s brother, right?”
Vision leaned back slightly, dubiously responding, “Yes, he is. How did you know that?”
“Lucky guess,” He smiled “I’ll let my parents know. I’ll stay the night if that’s okay?”
“Perfect, I’ll see you then. I have to get home and hide the silly string, Billy asked to help with dinner tonight.” With a breathy laugh, Peter waved him off as he left the office.
Life in Westview was always unusual, but mostly in the sense that nothing ever seemed to go wrong. If you wanted it to be sunny it was, and if you wanted it to snow it would. Everyone appeared to be living their “perfect” life and Peter could testify that it was the truth. But despite it all something always felt off. Whether it was sounds with no origin, which Peter had become used to, or something else.
But that didn’t mean something was wrong, per say. In fact if anything it meant Peter was going a little crazy. Lately he'd been having these dreams. Or Memories. He wasn’t sure. They couldn’t possibly be memories, he knew, but they felt so real. Like he could reach out and grab touch them if he tried. As if they had happened mere minutes before and yet Peter couldn’t remember ever seeing or doing any of it before.
Last night he had woken up in a sweat after dreaming about some battle with aliens and glowing stones, like a sci-fi picture show he would watch at the local cinema. He knew aliens weren’t real and yet it felt real, just a slightly distorted version of the life he was living. Mr Vision was there, and Wanda, and a bunch of other strangely dressed superpowered people. It was terrifying, watching a life he couldn’t remember having. Feeling like you knew people in another time or another world yet not knowing who they were. Feeling like you belong somewhere else, when you can’t even remember being anywhere else. Feeling like you should be in that other life, one full of pain instead of the painless one you live.
He knew he should ask someone about it, he knew that. But he didn’t want to come across as insane. Instead he had just added these weird occurrences to a list of no one questions. Questions he had about things no one talked about.
Like the “glitching” people, you don't talk about that. Why do they just stop? Why do they keep repeating the same action? Why do people just stop existing towards the end of town? What is beyond the town?
Weird dreams, you don’t talk about that. Who were all these people he kept seeing? Why was everyone fighting?
Sounds coming from nowhere, well that’s just crazy. Where the fuck was the laughing coming from? Why can no one hear the laughter? It was driving him insane.
Maybe he was going crazy. But he'd rather be marked down as crazy than as easily fooled. Maybe he’d ask Wanda about the sounds. Wanda always seemed to know what was going on. Always.
Wanda had moved in next door to Peter, on the opposite side to Agnes, and they had been friends right away. He’d babysit her twins, help her with cooking or whatever else they felt like doing. She’d teach him Sokovian, he’d go to work with Mr. Vision, they’d come home and he’d help around the house. They had a routine and it was perfect. Everything was always perfect. Why did nothing ever go wrong?
It was decided, he’d ask Wanda.
After the short walk from Computational Services Inc., Peter had finally arrived back at his house. Pulled out his keys and unlocked the painted white front door to his own house.
The house itself was not overly modern for the 90s already? It feels like it was the 70s just yesterday?, it still had the essence of the 80s but Peter loved it anyway. It was cosy, with a fireplace in the front room. Him, his parents and his aunt and uncle would make hot chocolate and sit by the fire when it was cold. The house was lived in, it wasn’t the newest of the new but it was perfect for them. But it wasn’t the house that mattered, it was what was the people in it. His Uncle Ben and Aunt May had always lived with him and his mom and dad and they had always felt like his second parents. They were there when he needed a shoulder to cry on and when he wanted to laugh till his lungs hurt.
His parents were always there. Of course they went to work during the day but it felt like whenever he needed them they would always be there, they would just appear, with a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket sitting in the blue coach in the lounge room ready for him to pour his heart out or just relax. Which was where they were now, sitting and watching tv.
“Peter,” His mom said warmly, standing to give him a hug. She wrapped him up in her arms while his dad gave a breathy laugh.
“Give him some space Mary, you’re gonna squeeze the life out of him. You're squeezing him so hard he might turn to dust!” She pulled away, but only after giving him a kiss on the forehead. Still she kept his hand around his shoulder, turning back towards Peter’s father.
“So how was work Pete?” He questioned, taking a sip of coffee from a cup on the wooden coffee table in front of him. Putting his backpack down Peter replied with a shrug of his shoulders:
“Same as always I guess. helped everyone with the new computers, that was pretty cool.” Peter walked towards the kitchen, pulling a cup out of a cupboard next to the sink and filling it with water. He lent on the counter and turned towards his parents once again, cup in hand.
“You always seemed to have a handle on all the newest tech, even when you were young,” his mother commented, picking up a soda Peter had never seen before and taking a large sip, sighing happily afterwards. The logo was faced out towards him:
Titan, a taste to die for.
Peter hadn’t heard of it before, in fact he had never even seen it in the local supermarket. A strange pit was blossoming in his stomach that seemed endlessly deep, as though he could never climb out of it if he fell in. His mother never drank sodas usually, but it was something more than that. Something was wrong. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Our little computer whiz you were. Still are,” added his father.
With a smile Peter said, “Thanks, uh, I was wondering… Mr. Vision asked if I wanted to stay over at his and Wanda’s tonight, is that okay?”
“Of course, kid, you’ve got the run of the show here,” his father said, laughing lightly.
“Wait, I can use anything in the lab?”
“Of course, kid, you’ve got the run of the show here. This is your lab now.”
“Are you okay Pete? You zoned out there for a moment,” his father asked, suddenly standing next to him with a hand on his shoulder, voice suddenly turning cold and instructive “Do you want to change something?”
Peter shook his head “What? No, why would I want to change something?”
His parents were silent, still, like they were waiting for him to say something. Like they were waiting for him to make a choice. What choice? Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered, “Right well uh, I’m gonna go get ready. Pack a bag and everything. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Bye hun,” His mother said sweetly why did it sound wrong? waving goodbye as Peter walked up the stairs.
Peter’s head was overwhelmed with thoughts as he reached the top of the stairs, rushing to his room and almost slamming the door behind him. That was weird. No one had ever asked him if he wanted something changed, especially not in that tone. The kind of tone people at work used as they discussed paperwork and files. People just didn’t do that.
It reminded him of the conversation he had with Mr. Vision earlier after he had that strange dreaming moment. Feeling so untethered from the moment, from reality, as if it was shifting and rearranging itself around him. He had to ask Wanda; she always knew what was going on. Someone had to know what was going on. Right?
He’d been working on his list for days, of everything that was “glitching”, ever since he first started noticing how weird things had gotten. It read:
Voices from nowhere
Memories?
“Glitching” people
He added parents acting weird (asked if I wanted something changed?) and folded it into his pocket. He packed a small duffel bag for the night, pyjamas, work clothes, toothbrush, and quietly made his way down the stairs.
When he reached the bottom, he turned his head to where his parents still stood in the kitchen, exactly where he’d left them. Almost as if they hadn’t moved at all while he was gone, which couldn't be true. Why would they just stand there for the last twenty minutes? The house was deathly quiet. For just a moment everything was entirely silent, it felt like even the cars outside had stopped, kids playing in the street falling silent along with them. Everything was still, until—
“Bye sweetie, have fun at Wanda’s,” His mother waved him off with a grin, suddenly turning to face him as if nothing had been strange at all. Peter dumbly waved back, unnerved by the sudden change in the tone of the moment.
The door slammed behind him as he left, leaving him standing on the silent, empty street, completely alone— exactly how he felt. But maybe he didn’t have to be after tonight. Turning to his left, he walked towards Wanda’s house. And hopefully, towards answers.
Peter had superhuman reflexes.
Either that or he’d gotten so used to Tommy and Billy’s pranks that he knew instinctively to duck as soon as the front door swung open. Silly string flew past his head and coated the doormat behind him in a mountain of pastel colours.
“Nice dodge.” Vision smiled. “Come in.”
Peter stepped inside, only to be met with a face full of whipped cream.
“You didn’t see that coming?” A voice laughed.
A speedster runs across the screen. “You didn’t see that coming?” He asks. The image cuts out.
“You don’t need to see that, kid.”
“Hello?” The same voice said. A man about Wanda’s age waved a hand in front of Peter’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, um…” Peter trailed off.
“Wanda told me about you, little dude. You must be Peter.” He stuck out his hand. “The name’s Pietro.”
Peter grabbed his hand and jumped, electricity coursing through his body. Pietro doubled over in laughter. Pietro must have stopped off at the local kids toy store, judging by all the pranks and toys Billy and Tommy had in their hands as they ran around the living room.
“Pietro!” Wanda scolded, hitting him on the shoulder. She offered Peter a towel to wipe the whipped cream off his face, which he gladly took.
“I’m so sorry about this, Peter.” She told him. “Pietro still has the mental capacity of a ten year old.” Turning to Pietro, she added, “Yes, this is Peter. He’s basically my brother which means he’s yours too.”
Pietro pulled a face behind Wanda’s back, sticking his tongue out as his eyes went crosseyed, and winked at Peter. He dashed off to join the twins, who were giggling in the corner. Peter didn’t miss Billy’s nervous glance at his mother, but shrugged it off.
“Peter,” Wanda said warmly “I’m glad you came.” She walked up and engulffed him in a warm hug. Peter leaned into her, putting his head on her chest, feeling safe at last in her presence.
“Peter,” Vision spoke, inclining his head in a welcoming gesture “Thanks for coming over to help wrangle these rascals.”
With a small laugh Peter replied “The twins aren’t that bad, Mr. Vision.”
“I believe they are more like triplets now,” he pointed to where Pietro and the twins sat.
“Where’s the love, bro-in-law?” Pietro jokingly asked, putting his arms out in mock shock.
“Vision, be nice,” Wanda told him, before turning to the rest of the group. “Dinner’s in half an hour. Try not to burn the house down ’til then.”
“No promises,” Tommy laughed, high-fiving his uncle.
Rolling her eyes, Wanda walked into the kitchen followed by Vision, leaving Peter with the twins and Pietro.
“So you’re the distant twin,” Peter questioned, sitting down on the floor next to the couch.
“And you’re the basically baby bro,” Pietro threw back, picking up a can of soda. Titan brand again. He really had to find out where those were coming from. They seemed to stare and each other for a few moments, daring the other to say something, until—
“Got any funny stories about Wanda when she was a kid?”
Silence hung in the air. Pietro gave out a loud, bark-like laugh.
“Oh, you bet I do. This one time—” He was cut off by someone walking through the door.
“It’s just me, I wanted to come see how the little devils are doing,” Agnes called out and she barged through the door. She was dressed in a bright patterned sweater and jeans, holding a tray of brownies.
Hearing her neighbour, Wanda had walked back into the lounge room with a large smile painted across his face.
“Agnes, you shouldn’t have,” She said thankfully, giving her a light hug. Agnes gave a smile and passed the tray off to Wanda before walking over to the twins.
“C’mon Wanda, let Auntie Agnes spoil the kids every now and then. Brownies are their favourite anyway.”
Peter looked at the twins to see them gazing hungrily at the brownies, funnily enough Pietro was giving the brownies the same look. Their gaze was akin to that of a hungry lioness on a hunt, Peter was terrified of what would happen if he got between the two.
“You should stay for dinner Agnes, the twins don’t see you enough,” Wanda suggested.
“Well if you insist, I’ll take any chance I get to see your little rascals. What have you got cooking in there?” She asked, gesturing to the kitchen “Smells delightful. Need a hand?”
“I would love one since my would-be helper has abandoned me,” Wanda joked, ruffling Billy’s hair with one had as he stuck his tongue out in retaliation.
The pair began to walk back to the kitchen but Peter bolted up and called out, “Wanda, do you think we could talk later? There’s some stuff I need some, uh, advice on,” Peter stumbled on his words as he spoke.
“Of course, sweetie, do you wanna talk now?” She put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm his nerves. He gave a slight smile back at her and responded:
“Nah, it's okay we can talk after dinner. It’s probably nothing.”
She gave a nod and caressed his cheek with her thumb before turning and following after Agnes, who’d already gone into the kitchen to sneak a peak at what was on the menu
The next half an hour flew past with Peter getting to know Pietro and joking with the twins while Vision floated around the lounge room, every now and then he’d look sadly towards the kitchen or weirdly at Pietro. Like he knew something was wrong. Something Peter could sense too. There was a weird heaviness in the air that surrounded them like a warm blanket, yet lacking the comfort that warmth usually brought.
He couldn’t explain it, but something was up with Pietro. Something felt… misplaced. Wanda’s twin, whom she had never mentioned before, didn’t have photos up in the house of or had ever even hinted of towards Vision, rocks up out of nowhere and no one questions it? if i’ve never seen him before he must have come from outside of westview but nothing is outside of westview what is outside of westview
Though, Billy seemed to be able feel it too. Perhaps he too had noticed the strangeness around town, maybe he had even been hearing the voices. He would have to ask later, once he'd talked to Wanda.
Nevertheless the group found themselves sitting around the dinner table enjoying the meal Wanda had made (with some assistance from Agnes of course).
The group dissolved in conversation about what everyone had been up to during the day. The twins had spent the day around the neighbourhood, bike riding and, most likely, causing trouble. Vision had been at a neighbourhood watch meeting, something about the upcoming Halloween and thus likely a spike in crime around the neighbourhoos (Pietro had laughed at that, saying that there was no crime in Westview, ever). While Agnes had been baking the brownies and spent the day with her husband, Ralph.
After that, the conversation turned from slightly boring to completely pointless. Talking about the oddly sunny weather, what the twins were planning for Halloween and so on. In the midst of the changing topics Peter noticed the Wanda was making food slowly disappear from Vision’s plate while Vision pretended to eat, as not to alert Agnes of Vision’s true form. Smart.
Honestly it was pretty funny once you noticed it.
As the minutes passed, the plates started to empty and the moonlight began to seep in through the windows. The twins had been sent to get ready for bed, brushing their teeth for a full two minutes to their dismay, and Agnes took her plate to the kitchen.
“Well this has been lovely, Wanda,” She drawled, “but I really have to get home to Ralph. He gets real cranky if he doesn’t get his dessert on time.”
Wanda laughed, waving Agnes off. Vision kissed Wanda on the forehead and went to check the twins were ready for bed. Leaving Wanda and Peter alone in the kitchen. The only sounds in the room were the dripping tap and the click of plates as they were put away. Of course Wanda had insisted that he was a guest and didn’t need to to help but Peter’s parents had raised him well he wasn’t raised by his parents what has he saying? and he had insisted that he help.
“You wanted to talk to me?” Wanda asked. “Is everything okay?”
Looking up, Peter stammered, “Oh, uh, yeah, it’s probably nothing.”
Wanda smiled warmly and leaned on the kitchen counter to listen to Peter. “It must be something if you’re so worried about it.”
Pete took a deep breath. “Have you noticed anything… Weird around here? Westview, I mean. In the last week I’ve been noticing everyone acting really strangely, like I was left out of some big inside joke,” he fished his list out of his pocket and smoothed it out against the counter. “I’ve seen some strange things and—” He shrugged. “I thought you might know what’s going on, you always seem too know.”
Wanda’s eyes narrowed slightly. She glanced at the list. “I haven’t noticed anything.” She picked up the list and folded it, tucking it into her pocket, “Are you sure you’re not just hearing things? I always think I hear someone calling me but its just the wind-”
“It’s not the wind though, I know it isn’t, I- I just know, okay?” Peter pleaded, “Something is wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong Peter.”
“That’s the thing. Nothing ever goes wrong! Everything is perfect here! Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”
“If everything is perfect then what is wrong, Peter?” Wanda demanded.
“I don’t know, okay? I just- something isn’t right, I just feel like the world is wrong,” Peter trailed off, struggling to express his frustrations.
It was quiet for a moment, as Peter collected his thoughts. There was a small red glint in Wanda’s eyes, though Peter dismissed that as a trick of the lights.
“I’ve been hearing voices Wanda— human voices! Not the wind, not my mind playing tricks on me. Real people. I keep feeling like I’m going insane!”
Wanda’s previous smile drilled into a hard line, she was quiet and still as Peter began to wildly spew off his observations without rest. He needed her to know what was happening. He needed to know what was wrong.
“You have to believe me, you of all people. I keep feeling like there are all these things I don’t know about myself. Like there is some other life I’m missing, like these voices are from that life. I’m missing memories, Wanda!”
Wanda response was as quick and sharp as a knife, “you never liked that life, your better off here.”
The words seemed to tumble out of her mouth before she really thought about them. She went deathly still. Like a Greek statue. She had messed up, and now she couldn’t take it back. Peter wouldn’t let her.
“What?”
Wanda tried to smile, though it didn’t quiet reach her eyes “I think its time for you to head to bed Peter, its getting late and you have work tomorrow.”
“No!” Peter shouted, louder than he intended too, “What life? Wanda what life am I missing!”
The crimson in her eyes deepened as Peter yelled, like a growing tear in her eyes the red flicks of light seemed to fall to her feet and dance around her hands.
“Peter, I mean it, its time for bed.”
He words were cold, spoken with such authority and sharpness that he had never heard from her before. Gone was Wanda, the kind neighbour who had taken him in. Infront of Peter was a stranger.
“What did you do?” Peter whispered, daring to meet her eyes as he finally took note of the crimson dust that was starting to encompass the kitchen.
“Nothing that you didn’t ask for.”
That couldn’t be true. How could Peter have possibly chosen a life of confinement to one town, a life of lies, a life of insanity with no one to turn to who believed him?
“I… I wouldn’t ask for this.”
“You hated your life, Peter! You hated it! I have given you everything, everything. I have given you your family. Just as I have given myself mine. I have taken your powers and given you a normal life, like you always wanted back. We deserve this, Peter. We deserve to be happy. Don’t we?”
He didn’t understand.
“How can we be happy like this?” Peter whispered, his voice breaking as he mourned a life he did not know, at least one he could not remember.
“I won’t let you ruin this, not after everything I’ve lost. After everything we have lost.”
“Wanda you have to fix this!”
At Peter’s yell, Vision stormed into the kitchen, clearly having heard their argument from upstairs.
“Whats wrong? Why are we fighting?” Vision asked, his hands out in a surrendering motion, eyes quickly swapping between the both of them.
“Wanda is lying to us–”
“No!” Wanda yelled, he eyes finally fully engulfed in red “Stop!”
As the words left her mouth all the air sucked itself out of the room. Impossibly, time slowed, then stopped– as if the hands of a clock were ripped out and replaced, warping any sense of time left. Time stretched and bent until it was entirely unrecognisable.
Peter was stuck in his place, watching the world around him become deformed and reconstructed before his eyes. He was trapped as a prisoner in his own desired prison.
help wanda stop please you have to let me out i know you can hear this you have to free me you have to free us please this isn’t right we cant ignore the life we’ve been given please i want to go home i want to be free we can’t keep all these people trapped here wanda please listen to me help me help me help me help me help me help me free me free me free me free me please wanda please wanda please wanda please wanda
please let me go wanda
please fix this
please free us
please
“What did you want to ask me, Peter?” Wanda smiled, putting away a dried glass into the cabinet next to the fridge.
Peter thought for a moment, he couldn’t remember for the life of him what he was going to say. So he said as much.
“Well, you must be tired then if you’ve lost your train of thought. Why don’t you head up to bed early and I’ll finish these dishes, alright?”
Peter smiled, gave her a hug goodnight and raced up the stairs to bed. Wanda was right, as always. He was extremely tired, all but diving into bed the first chance he got.
As he drifted off to sleep his mind raced with just one thought: all was not well.