Chapter Text
Wanda feels normal again after that night. The burning feeling, the one that gave her the mental image of a fire spreading from her stomach outwards, eating her from the inside, is finally quelled. The last few days have been everything at once - Strange, her new powers, Vision, the boys - and now she has a clear head she wants to enjoy it.
Therefore, when she wakes, tangled in limbs and bathed in the early morning sun, she instantly checks that Rio hasn't fled overnight, and when she sees both brunettes sleeping peacefully, she prises herself free of the hold Agatha and Rio have on her, placing her feet on the cold floor and hurrying to grab a t shirt and boxers, slipping both on and carefully making her way out of the bedroom and downstairs.
There, she decides to plan a date. Her options are limited, given Agatha's role of breadwinner meaning money only goes so far, and Rio's propensity to vanish at any given moment, not to mention her lack of experience with dating in the first place and the kids to manage, but she decides a picnic should cover everything, and so she searches the kitchen for a basket. When she doesn't find one amid Agatha's chaos and her limited cookware, she conjures one, weaving her scarlet magic together in thin air until she has a suitable container.
She glances at the clock. 10:20 on a Saturday, and not a peep from the entire house. Plan decided, she heads back upstairs and changes clothes - from her hastily made pyjamas to a plain t shit and capris - while the other women sleep, checking again that Rio hasn't left in the process. When she sees both women lying in bed, wrapped up in blankets and each other, unstirring, she leans down and places a kiss on Agatha's lips, then nose, then jaw, peppering them around the purple witch's face until she stirs.
'Morning, honey,' Wanda coos and Agatha attempts to bury her head back in the pillow, seeking sleep. Wanda rolls her eyes before moving around the bed to do the same thing to Rio, only for Rio to grasp at her waist and pull her down onto the mattress. Wanda giggles and pushes against the green witch and back to her feet, 'get up, my love,' she says, 'big day today. I'm taking you both on a date.'
Rio cracks an eye open, and reaches for Wanda again, only for the scarlet witch to step back and evade her grabbing hands, 'a date?' Rio asks, voice thick with sleep.
'Yeah, it's what normal people do,' Wanda replies.
'Because we're so normal,' Rio murmurs, but the soft smile tugging at the edge of her lips shows that she doesn't mean it maliciously, and the way she rolls over until she faces Agatha and begins to shake her gently shows that she's on board. With a kiss to Rio's cheek, Wanda leaves them to wake up.
She moves down the hall to Nicky's room, and knocks gently, finding the boy in a similar state to Agatha, facedown on his pillow, mouth hanging open in a quiet snore, hair hopelessly tangled from the same fidgeting that likely shoved his comforter down around his ankles. She tiptoes over to him, wanting to give him a few extra seconds before she leans down, tucking his hair behind his ears, 'wake up, baby,' she whispers, and he starts to stir with a quiet groan, 'we're going to go out, can you wake up and start getting ready for me?'
Nicky's eyes open a fraction, his gaze swivelling to Wanda, and he offers a silent nod against his pillow before his eyes drift closed again. Wanda decides to check on him in a few minutes, and crosses the hall to the twins' room. A knock gets a 'come in' back, and so she opens the door to find one empty bed, and the other containing Tommy, wide awake and fingers blurring as he types quickly on his laptop.
'Morning,' she greets.
'Morning,' he replies. 'Thought I was the only one awake here.'
'You were until about 10 minutes ago,' she tells him, 'I'm thinking we should go out, all of us. I'm going to make a picnic, we'll go to the park.'
'Sure,' Tommy says, 'can I just have some time to finish this assignment, though? It's due today.' He looks guilty and Wanda is positive that he had plenty of time to do it sooner.
'Fine, but we will be having a talk about prioritising and deadlines,' she says, 'I need to get the others up, anyway. Can you text Billy for me and invite him?'
Tommy nods, eyes back on and not looking up from his laptop, and Wanda has to take it on faith that he's heard as she returns to Nicky's room to see the boy fast asleep once more, but turned on his side this time. She shakes her head good-naturedly and crouches beside his bedframe, reaching out and wiggling her fingers on his sides. The boy wakes up giggling and squirming away from Wanda's cold and tickling fingers, and Wanda lets out a shout of 'got you!' as she continues her assault. When he's wide-eyed and looking at her with a large grin, she relents, and he pouts up at her in much the same way Tommy had the previous day.
'Why do I have to get up?' he asks, 'it's Saturday'.
Wanda pretends she's even remotely capable of being stern with the boy who reminds her of all of the people she loves most as she replies, 'because it's way after ten and we're going out. Picnic in the park. Get dressed, wash your face, and don't forget to scrub at the mushrooms behind your ears,' she tells him, pinching his ear softly as he giggles and bats her arm away.
On her way out of Nicky's room and back to the kitchen, she glances into the main bedroom, seeing empty sheets and hearing the shower running, along with some familiar moans. She walks into the ensuite and taps on the shower glass with a knuckle, 'five minutes before I turn your water cold,' she calls.
Agatha pokes her head out, soaking wet and covered in suds, 'it's plenty hot in here without the water, but it could always be hotter,' she tells Wanda with a wink and a click of her tongue. Wanda pushes her head back behind the glass pane and under the spray as she ventures back downstairs.
Satisfied that everyone is conscious, she realises she needs to assemble the promised picnic.
The first thing she decides on are egg muffins - cheese and ham, cheese and bell pepper, and just ham for Nicky and Rio - and they come together quickly, Wanda mixing a dozen eggs in a bowl, seasoning with salt and pepper, and pouring into muffin cases before she adds the mix-ins and pops them in the oven. While they cook, she makes a large pile of sandwiches - cheese and ham again, a few turkey, and cream cheese with cucumber which had remained Billy's favourite across bodies for whatever reason - and washes some fruit, pouring the still-damp colander of different coloured berries and slices of mango and watermelon into some tupperware, and then doing the same with the sandwiches, and, when they're done, the egg muffins. She grabs some juice boxes they kept for Nicky and decides that they'll do for her purposes, putting them in the basket as she imagines the three most powerful witches in the universe sipping on lunchbox sized fruit punches.
Basket packed and in hand, she ensures her glamour is still in place as she opens the front door, and pushes it wide, stepping out onto the porch. Once there, she realises that she cannot let go of the handle. She tries. She stands there and wonders if it's some strange hex, some curse, some strange prank by one of the boys, even though they've never been the pranking type, only to find her shoes are stuck, too. She cannot walk forwards, cannot leave the house, cannot abandon the safety of four walls and a roof when the last time she left, she and Agatha came so close to dying.
She steps back, tumbling across the threshold of the house, pulling the door closed behind her, and rests her head against the wood. She couldn't do this again. She remembers what it was like after she first re-appeared in Westview, how she had had to, bit by bit, venture a little further out each day. How she had built herself up to walk to the sidewalk, to the end of the street, to the mailbox, before she had the courage to visit the town. How tight her grip on Agatha's hand had been as she had done it. She had promised her family a picnic, and here she was, stood at the front door, unable to leave.
Her forehead breaks out in a cold sweat, her hands feeling clammy and limp. The limp feeling gives way to pins and needles, which trickle from her hands up her arms, little pinpricks that suddenly bloom on her face. Her vision feels blurry, her head is lethargic. Nausea rises up inside her, giving way to dizziness as she leans her head against the door, shivers wracking her body. Her breathing comes quickly, shaky and deep, as if even her lungs are shuddering.
All of a sudden she feels two feet tall, like the doorhandle is this huge, unmovable object, even though she had moved it moments before that. She thinks about going outside, about surrounding herself with people who hate her with only a glamour for protection, and it feels like an incredibly stupid idea. It seemed, lately, that whenever she left the house she ended up in danger, though she knew logically that the last trip outside, to the Avenger's compound, was the only time in recent memory that she was actually under threat, but still, the world seemed far too dangerous and far too scary to even consider it. She couldn't - wouldn't - put her boys in danger, and home is safe, is controlled, is the one place they're all but guaranteed protection.
Then again, she thinks, what good is a mother too scared to leave the house. She had promised her boys, and her girlfriends, a picnic. She had woken them all up for it. And now, stood at the door, picnic basket in hand, some invisible force keeps her from leaving the house. She rears her head back and brings it down against the front door again, and again, and again, lightly bumping the wood each time, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel it. It feels real, feels raw, feels like the least she deserves, until a warm hand slips between her forehead and the door, catching her. Following the hand along an arm, a shoulder, a neck, she sees Rio, all pinched lips and creased forehead, scrutinising her with slightly narrowed brown eyes.
'You know that's now how you open the door, right?' Rio asks, and Wanda turns into her, Rio immediately sensing what it is her girlfriend needs and stepping into her space, wrapping her arms around Wanda, making quiet shushing noises and whispering, 'I've got you.'
'We need to go to the park,' Wanda says against her collar, 'I promised a picnic.'
She feels the basket being removed from her hand, as Rio guides her to the living room, placing the basket on the coffee table and guiding Wanda to the loveseat, sitting her down. She takes a moment to admire the basket, a light but sturdy piece in a shade of mahogany, though it can't actually be mahogany given how terrible the fibres are for weaving. 'You made this?' She asks, attempting to sound surprised, attempting to give Wanda something to focus on.
Wanda's blurry vision turns to the basket, and she whispers, 'yeah.'
'It's very good,' Rio says before deciding it isn't working. She takes Wanda's hand and splays it out on her chest, over her heart, pressing her own hand on top of Wanda's. 'Honey, I want you to pay attention to my heartbeat, okay? Count it out for me.' Wanda can't speak properly, but her head nods minutely in time with each pulse. 'Okay, good girl,' Rio's voice is low and soothing, like bathing in a cool creek on a summer morning, 'now I'm going to take some deep breaths, and when I breathe in, I want you to breathe in, too, okay?' Rio doesn't wait for a nod, just begins. 'Close your eyes, love.' Wanda obeys, desperate to be told what to do.
In for one, two, three. Out for one, two, three.
In for one, two, three. Out for one, two, three.
In for one, two, three. Out for one, two, three.
Wanda mimics her, intentionally or unintentionally, but the effect is the same as Wanda matches Rio's breathing.
When the younger witch feels slightly closer to normal, she opens her eyes and tugs her hand away from Rio's, collapsing forward to rest her head on Rio's lap. Rio pulls Wanda's hair out of the ponytail she put it up in, and strokes the loose tresses slowly, in time with their breathing. When some time, Wanda isn't sure how much, but enough for her chills to subside and the feeling in her hands to fully return, has passed, Rio speaks, voice still soft and soothing, 'I'm going to take a guess. The last trip out of the house wasn't great, and now you've gone to leave the house for the first time since then, you're panicking.' Wanda nods against her thigh, and Rio scratches softly at her scalp. 'Let's stay in today. Picnic in the living room. It'll be cute.'
Wanda bites her lip, and then licks it. 'I can't stay in forever.'
'No, you can't.' Rio agrees. 'But for today, you can. You went through something terrible, and the last couple of days have been batshit crazy. You don't need to be doing something all the time. Let's just stay in. Stay here. We'll watch a movie and eat what I'm sure is some delicious food and just... hang out. The boys will love it. So will Agatha.'
'You guys should go without me. Take the boys to the park. Don't let me stop them going.'
'Wands, the boys don't care about the park.' Rio says, lightly dragging her nails through Wanda's hair. 'They want to spend time with you. We'll stay in, have some food, watch some movies. It's going to be way comfier on these couches than on the grass at the park.'
'I'm sorry,' Wanda says into her thigh, and Rio's hand drops to her back, rubbing circles between her shoulder blades.
'Darling you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,' Rio tells her. 'You can't stay in the house forever, but beating yourself up because you went through something awful and now you need a day at home before you go back out is completely fine. We'll stay here today. Outside can be a tomorrow problem.'
As if on cue, there is a knock at the door, and Wanda flinches. At Rio's call, Billy enters, taking in the sight of Wanda lying on Rio's thigh, Rio tracing shapes on her back. 'Hey,' he says, uncertain if he's interrupting.
'Hey, kiddo,' Rio answers for both of them, 'picnic in the living room today. Your mom is exhausted. That okay?'
Billy nods, eyeing Wanda, 'is she okay? She looks like hell.'
Wanda sits up slightly to reach for his arm, squeezing it, 'I'm fine, sweetie, don't you worry about me. Like Rio said, I'm just tired.'
Billy accepts the information with a nod and a grasp of his mother's hand, 'so where's everyone else?'
'Upstairs. Terrible commute.' Rio replies, 'do me a favour and crack open the basket?'
He does, pulling out the tupperware that Wanda had so carefully, so optimistically, placed not even an hour ago, a faint cloud of steam visible in the box holding the egg muffins. Wanda shifts, pushing herself up on the couch, pushing Rio back, until the older woman is sat with her back against the arm of the couch, and Wanda is slotted neatly beneath her arm. Rio drops a kiss on the top of Wanda's head, the younger witch fully relaxing into her side.
Wanda had never thought Death to be a cuddler. Wanda had never thought much of Death at all, given everything and everyone she had lost to it, but Rio was nothing like she had expected, and, she had realised, it hadn't taken her long to fall for the woman, to see the beauty in Death, the same way Agatha did. Wanda is reminded of why she adores Rio as much as she does when Rio nuzzles her cheek in a way reminiscent of a cat, and strokes her arm in time with her breathing.
'I'll go get the others,' Billy says once everything is unpacked, heading for the stairs. On his way, he walks behind the couch, leaning over to awkwardly hug Wanda, which Wanda reciprocates, kissing his cheek as she does.
Agatha arrives downstairs as Billy starts to head up, and when she sees her wife and girlfriend curled up on the couch, she doesn't hesitate to join them, sidling against Wanda, so close that the three of them are able to share just over half of the loveseat between them. She eyes Wanda, clearly worried, and asks, 'all okay, my love?' Wanda nods and Agatha cuddles into her side, the purple witch not needing to be told exactly what is wrong, only needing to know that something is wrong, and immediately taking care of her.
Nicky announces his arrival with a thud as he launches himself across all three womens' laps, Rio letting out a soft 'oof' as his foot catches her square in the stomach.
'Hi, baby,' Agatha says, her voice soft and sweet, leaning down to kiss Nicky's forehead. The boy grins and squirms on their laps, until he is comfortably laying across the trio's legs, and Wanda is playing with his hair, running her fingers through it and scratching lightly at his scalp as the young boy leans into her ministrations.
Billy and Tommy arrive shortly after, Billy taking up the remaining space on the small seat and Tommy grabbing a cushion to sit on the floor in front of them. 'Don't you want to sit on the chair?' Agatha asks, concerned for her son's spine.
'I heard there were head scratches available, I thought I'd get in on it,' he grins, cheeky and only half-joking but definitely not expecting Rio to reach down and fluff up his hair. Wanda giggles into Rio's neck as Tommy pouts up at them from his place on the floor, far more resembling a puppy than a teenager.
'Everyone eat,' Wanda instructs, her voice still somewhat weak but recovering, 'I made a tonne of food, half of it's still warm.'
Billy is the first to grab an egg muffin, relishing a mouthful of still-warm cheese and ham. Rio reaches for the box of fruit, biting into a strawberry and offering the remaining bite to Wanda, pressing it to her lips, and Wanda nibbles gently at her fingers as she takes it from her. Billy offers a plain egg muffin to Nicky, who nibbles at it from his place on his mothers' lap. Agatha reaches for the remote, careful not to dislodge her youngest son, and flicks the TV on. As she clicks, she sees something that makes her press the buttons faster, desperate to skip past it before Nicky notices, but it is already too late, as Nicky cries out;
'Scooby! Can we watch Scooby? Please mama?'
Agatha hesitates. Normally, she would give any of her sons the world without hesitation, but this is one of the rare occasions where she pauses beforehand.
'Sure, we can,' Wanda says, either oblivious or malicious in her reply, Agatha isn't sure, and Rio chuckles lowly as Agatha accepts defeat, returning to the channel with a huff.
'Aggie hates Scooby Doo,' Rio informs Wanda, quiet and conspiratorial.
'I do not hate Scooby Doo. That implies I have strong feelings about a children's cartoon. I dislike Scooby Doo.' Agatha's tone is bored, as if she and Rio have had this conversation countless times before.
'What can you possibly have against a talking dog that solves crimes?' Billy asks, utterly bewildered yet completely serious.
'Dude, don't,' Tommy warns him.
'Why does the dog need to talk?' Agatha asks, and Rio, Nicky, and Tommy all groan simultaneously. 'No, it makes absolutely zero sense. And why does he have a speech impediment? All the other talking dogs are completely normal. Why are we following the only one who can't pronounce his own name?'
Wanda laughs. Truly, properly laughs, for the first time today. Agatha glares at her, as if it's insulting for her to be laughing at the centuries-old witch ranting about a children's show. Rio joins her, the green and scarlet witch cackling at her outburst.
On screen, Scrappy Doo appears. 'Oh, it's this fucking guy,' Agatha scoffs, and this sets Rio and Wanda into another fit of laughter as Nicky shushes the witches, eyes fixed on the screen. The laughter subsides as the three women attempt to stay quiet, allowing their youngest son, as well as the older two who appear unwilling to admit to being as riveted with the show as he is, to watch in peace.
'I adore you,' Rio tells her wife over Wanda's head, and Agatha leans over to kiss her softly. The movement jostles Nicky, who grumbles as he wiggles to a better position atop the women.
Agatha is back at it a moment later, 'oh, yeah, where could the trapdoor possibly be? It couldn't be the square of floor that's a different colour and texture to everything else, could it? No, that's too obvious. Good call standing directly on it, ginger.'
'Mama, shush,' Nicky says, reaching up to press a finger to her lips. Agatha catches his hand and kisses it, putting it back down.
'I like Daphne,' Wanda says defensively.
'Me, too,' Tommy is quick to second it, 'and Scrappy is cool.'
'Come the fuck on,' it's Billy who interrupts this time, speaking around a mouthful of cream cheese and cucumber.
'Here we go,' Rio comments as the conversation goes up in flames, Tommy and Wanda on the side of Scooby, Billy and Agatha against. Nicky climbs off his mothers' lap and goes to sit by the TV, and Rio sits with him, the pair watching the gang solve a crime as the others get the arguing out of their system.
As the credits roll, the gang on the loveseat settle. Rio picks Nicky up in her arms, pressing their foreheads together, happy he is still the right size to do this, and walks back to the couch. 'If we sit back down, do you promise to not argue over a cartoon?' Agatha and Wanda nod, suitably chastised, and Rio slots herself between them to be safe. Once seated, Nicky crawls from her arms to lay across all three women's laps once again, his head by Wanda this time, as the adverts finish and the next episode begins to play.
Rio catches Wanda, a few times, staring out of the window, her face a mix of fear and longing. It's a combination Rio knows far too well. Wanda will need to go outside again, will need to face the world at large, but today she needs to rest. Rio loves her job, despite the nature of it, because, more often than not, she delivers a final act of kindness to a soul who lacks it. Wanda, fragile yet durable, broken but beautiful, tainted and traumatised and almost a stranger to a kind word or selfless kiss, needs it. Wanda, Rio knows, has every reason to hate Rio, has every right to loathe death for taking so much from her, and yet, she loves and loves and loves. She tears realities apart and herself with them for those she loves. Rio wants, more than anything, to hold on to that, to hold on to her, to adore her completely, to marry Wanda and Agatha together and be their wife. Even now, though, she can feel the bodies piling up, feel the lost souls breaking from their bodies, severing the connection like the thinnest thread, and knows that the time she has already had away, short as it is, will create plenty of problems for her later. She hopes she can give both women what they need from her, and she hopes that, nomadic as her job makes her, she can be there for them as much as they wish it.
She settles for wrapping an arm around Wanda, and another around Agatha, letting the women cuddle into her sides as their movie day becomes a Scooby day and Agatha, for the most part, doesn't interrupt.