It took three days of really bad nightmares for anyone to take Darcy's concerns seriously, and Wanda was the first to examine her.
She really hated that people were skeptical about auras. She saw them. So why didn't people take her word for it when she saw another's aura was affected?
Anyway, Wanda was surrounding by naysayers and scientists that, from time to time, could come across as condescending.
She was the most powerful Avenger. Everyone knew that. So maybe they needed to listen to her next time someone was being haunted.
Darcy had vivid nightmares three days in a row, and one morning after another episode, she explained to Jane and Erik that she was beginning to think the dreams were not dreams but visions – and the two scientists looked at one another and then shook their heads at Darcy.
"What makes you think that?" Jane asked, and Darcy huffed with impatience.
"I can see the ghost, sometimes! Still!"
This whole conversation was retold to Wanda, who sat on her bed with her guitar resting in her lap, the two scientists standing over her with Darcy in the background leaning against the door frame.
"You brought her to me to look inside her head?"
"If you could do that, that'd be really helpful," Jane said, and Wanda looked Darcy's way.
The bespectacled assistant always peaked Wanda's interest whenever they were in the same room. They only knew each other as acquaintances; Darcy got along with everyone but kept to the labs mostly.
Looking at her now, Wanda could see she was distressed, exhausted and undoubtedly harboring an intruder somewhere deep in her psyche.
When she spied her aura, Wanda knew something was deadly serious – her glow was all wrong, like some kind of fog that warped and bleached all color.
Wanda swallowed hard, and caught Darcy staring back at her, the brunette's big eyes wide.
"What's happening to her?" Jane asked, reading that Wanda noticed something.
"There's a spirit."
"What?" Erik snapped, frowning. He glanced Darcy's way. "Perhaps PTSD from London –"
"I do not wish to diminish your own mental illness, Doctor Selvig," Wanda began, moving aside her guitar and making her way toward Darcy. "But this is something different."
She rose a hand to stroke at Darcy's aura, immediately sensing a fierce entity beyond Darcy's own roiling anxiety.
"What are the dreams like, Darcy?" Wanda asked, and Darcy swallowed, sweat beginning to gather on her forehead.
It was an effort to resist the pushing back against Wanda's own energy. The entity did not appreciate the intrusion.
"Horrible. People being ripped apart in front of me," Darcy whispered. "People screaming. Blood everywhere."
Jane made a pained sound in the background, but Wanda nodded, trying to remain calm.
She wanted to be Darcy's anchor.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I can't imagine," she murmured.
Darcy nodded, sighing a little as Wanda's hand found hers and stroked her knuckles with her thumb.
Suddenly, the entity pushed back harder than before, shoving Wanda aside and making her fall backwards.
Jane let out a scream as Erik yelled: "Darcy!"
Darcy's eyes had changed. They were larger than ever, and darker – dark as coal and flashing with fury.
"Scarlet Witch!"
The voice was not Darcy's, but something deeper and thundering, making Wanda's eyes widen.
"Is she possessed?" Jane asked, and Wanda glanced back at her, seeing Erik shielding her from any possible attack.
Wanda got up from the floor with a grunt, and Darcy's eyes spun to her, a smile spreading across her face.
"Whatever it is, we need to get it out of her –"
Wanda's hands were up, and she focused everything on pulling the entity toward her, trying to find some part of it to cling on to.
Darcy winced, her smile faltering. She glared at Wanda, clearly experiencing pain –
"Witch!"
"That's right, I'm a witch," Wanda hissed, starting to feel herself cramp with the effort as she gave it everything. "And you're mine. Not hers. Leave her!"
Darcy yelled, head falling back and the fog turning a flame red –
Jane screamed again, and Wanda knew they must all be able to see the spirit now.
Wanda could feel herself sweating, her arms about to give way, but she held on, yelling along with the beast.
The fiery orb was ripped from Darcy, and Wanda held it in the air, panting as it warped and thrashed. There was an echo of its disembodied voice, like nothing Wanda had ever heard before.
She'd never forget it. Darcy fainted, falling to the floor.
Wanda concentrated on breaking the orb down, and pushed back, grunting as the entity tried again and again to break free.
"Go to Hell," Wanda hissed.
She snapped her hands together and the orb vanished, her bedroom now silent, save for her own panting.
Jane and Erik went for Darcy on the floor, who was stirring awake.
Wanda watched from where she stood, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
Darcy sat up, staring at Wanda.
"Thank you."
"That's okay," Wanda murmured, suddenly self-conscious.
With help from Erik, Darcy was standing up, and then moved closer to Wanda.
"You're incredible," she whispered.
Before Wanda could react, Darcy pulled her by the wrist toward her, and brushed her lips against hers.
Wanda was shocked, but not upset. There was a reason why Darcy always turned her head when she walked by.
Darcy pulled back, blinking at Wanda.
"This okay?"
"Sure," Wanda managed to reply, and then turned her head toward Jane and Erik, who'd seen everything.
"Right," Jane said, a little louder than necessary, and she pulled Erik out of Wanda's bedroom before either Darcy or Wanda had to ask.
Many kisses later, their arms wrapped around each other as they lay on Wanda's bed together, Wanda tucked a piece of Darcy's hair behind her ear.
Her companion sighed at her touch, making Wanda want to slip a hand down the front of Darcy's pants to hear her whimper.
As heated as their kisses were, Wanda didn't want more just yet, especially since Darcy had such a traumatizing few days.
"What do you think it was?" she murmured, and Darcy's eyes opened.
"I thought it was the Devil. The way it spoke to me in my head, and in my dreams."
"There has to be some explanation."
"Apart from the Devil?" Darcy asked, her eyebrows quirking.
She was adorable. Wanda just smiled, shaking her head.
"I know it sounds strange, but I often prefer a scientific explanation for the things I cannot explain," she said, "even though I have my powers and prophecies."
It was an alien plant spore, something Darcy was not meant to touch, though no-one realized that until after she was possessed by the alien virus.
"It morphed into something Darcy feared most," Bruce explained, and Wanda frowned.
Darcy leaned her head against her shoulder, chuckling softly.
"The Antichrist?"
Bruce shrugged from his chair. "Plausible explanation."
Every night after she brought the alien out of her, Wanda slept beside Darcy.
Never once did she really let her guard down. She was always checking for signs that her girlfriend might not be herself.
Occasionally, only very occasionally, she saw Darcy's eyes change to black, and Wanda was sure it was her eyes playing tricks on her.
Wanda was never was a fan of fog, anyway.
