House of W:

Re-Creation

Part I

(Author's Preface: There are a few things you should know before continuing. This is my idea of what should have happened after Avengers Disassembled. In this story, House of M never happened. In fact, nothing so dramatic happened at all. I might have a prequel to this story up sometime to explain what did happen in the three years between the last issue of The Avengers and Excalibur issue #14 and the beginning of this story. Until that point, though, just be aware that Wanda is semi-sane, has all of her memory in tact, and House of M doesn't exist. Rated R so I don't have to worry about ratings. Thank you for reading.)

Philadelphia, P.A.

1 year, 3 months after "Avengers Disassembled."

It was the kind of dream that gave your body the sensation of falling. So that even as you woke, your entire body tensed, expecting to meet the ground as soon as you opened your eyes.

Wanda started to consciousness, realizing that she was in her own bed. The window to her left leaked icy, winter air throughout her small apartment bedroom. It, along with the cracked door, water worn ceiling, dry-rotted walls, and leaking pipes, needed to be fixed. Wanda ignored it all. She paid too much for the apartment every month to do her own repairs.

The split level apartment was the best she could afford, unfortunately. And even that was becoming a steep monthly payment. Her savings were vanishing with unsettling speed, and she didn't have a job. Wasn't it funny how a career of defending humanity left one with no valued work skills? Unless she chose to work as a waitress (with no former employment record), she was out of options. Temporarily.

The former Scarlet Witch wrapped her worn blanket around her shoulders and stepped out of her bedroom and into the lower level of her apartment. Though she could, once again, keep her horrible powers in check, any further control escaped her. The years of work she'd gone through to gain control over her powers had been in vain.

Dr. Strange hadn't wanted to let her go. He'd tried to reason with her to stay in Genosha, where things were safe for her. Where he could continue to help her. No one could really stop her, though. Especially when Magneto, though he did not want her to leave either, told Stephen to stand aside. She left, taking what money her father would not let her go without, and found this hole; this old, worthless apartment building to live in.

Stephen knew where she lived, and he came to see her at least once a week. He still tried to talk to her. It made Wanda feel like a last-effort project of his. One more experiment he hoped wouldn't fail.

So many people trying to keep her alive, she thought. Dr. Strange, Pietro, Magneto, Xavier. Even some of the Avengers, she knew, still wanted her to survive. As for Wanda, she had neither will to live or die. Pietro would be hurt. If she died, he would mourn her, and that was one thing that still pained her to think about. She didn't want to hurt him. He'd estranged all of his other friends and family so that she was all he had left. Like always, they were each all the other had.

---

From his perch atop the building across the street, the former Terrible Toad King watched the downcast form of Wanda Maximoff emerge from her graffiti-painted sanctuary. He watched her walk down the sidewalk and around the building's corner until she left his range of sight. He'd watched her for two days so far. She was nothing but a shadow of the Scarlet Witch he'd known. Just Wanda's body walking around without her soul. Like what had happened to her robot husband. Still, he watched her.

Toad hopped off of the ledge and back onto the roof. He'd really only come to see if his information was correct: that Wanda was living in Philadelphia. And now he knew she was. So now he could go.

He looked to the roof -her roof- across from him, made a standing leap to it, and followed her from a careful distance up above.

---

Wanda came to the broad steps of the art museum. She went there, sometimes, because the air seemed clearer. The overcast sky was quiet, but the silence was sharply broken. Wanda looked up at the sound of skidding sneakers and shouts. She saw what looked like a small gang chasing a lone hooded figure, who was running right toward her. Before she had time to move, the figure jumped over her head and landed on the steps behind her. Wanda turned again, wide-eyed, and looked at the man now bounding up the steps, a flight at a time.

The man's pursuers were fast after him, and two of them brushed Wanda to the ground as they ran past her. Unfazed by her fall, she continued to watch from the ground as the mutant jumped onto one of the museum's pillars and crawled up to safety in the eaves.

Museum security was already running outside to quell the disturbance, and Wanda wasn't sure if she should approach the scene or leave. She strained her eyes against the translucent grey sky and searched for the mutant she'd recognized as Toad. She saw his crouching form slip up to the roof and disappear beyond it. She looked back to the top of the steps. The small mob was already being contained. Like Toad, she took advantage of the chaos and left unnoticed.

Walking as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself, Wanda followed the line of rooftops, looking for a sight of her former ally. Why was he in Philadelphia?

After only a moment of chasing after him, she could already feel the strain from months of inactivity. Her breath was short and her muscles tired from the short amount of running she'd done. Wanda cursed herself for having neglected her physical well-being for so long, and momentarily wished for her brother.

After passing four or five buildings, she glanced down an alley to see the same hooded man leap down from a rooftop and land on a strip of handicap railing.

"Toad!" She called loud enough for him to hear as she laboriously closed the few yards between them. The man, still delicately perched on top of a the rail, jumped up, turned, and landed on the railing in one movement. By that time, Wanda was close enough to see him clearly. He looked different. He'd improved with time, while she'd deteriorated.

Wanda didn't want him to see her gasping for breath so pathetically, but her curiosity overcame her. "Toad, what are you doing here?"

Toad blinked at her and opened his mouth. "Me? Where'd you come from's more like it"

Wanda stood, cheeks flushed from running. "I'm here because I was in the middle of your street fight."

Toad shrugged and knelt back down on the rail. "Oh. That?"

"Why are you here? Who sent you after me?"

"What makes you think someone had to send me? And what makes you think I'm here because of you? You ran after me." Toad jumped down from the rail and stood facing her.

"Then what are you here for?" Wanda's voice was less demanding than he'd remembered it.

"Just looking for a decent cheese steak."

Silence.

"Will you get over yourself, witch? What makes you think anyone's here to bring you back? You can do whatever you want. Stay here and die for all I care." Toad watched her eyes and, for an instant, he thought he saw a spark of anger in them. But if it was there, it quickly faded.

Wanda looked away and put her hand to her head. "I have to go." She began to walk away.

That was not the reaction the Toad had planned on. "Witch," he called after her.

But Wanda didn't turn around. Her old anger had vanished, along with everything else. 'Fine,' he thought, 'then, I was right. She's not who she was.'

Wanda kept walking away from him, though. Old obsessions must die hard, because no matter how he tried to think of all the torment and rejection she'd put him through, he couldn't let that happen.

"Witch," he repeated under his breath and ran after her.

"What are you doing out here?" he said when he'd caught up to her. Wanda didn't acknowledge him. "Your father has his own country, and you're living in the ghetto?"

She still gave no response. Toad moved in front of her, and Wanda stopped walking.

"What do you want, Toad? Why won't you let me be? You just said I could die for all you cared. Leave me alone. Please."

Toad felt himself at a complete loss for words or even thought. He was staring into Wanda's face; her hair, her mouth, her eyes. But she wasn't there. She didn't fight back against his insults; she wouldn't even yell at him. Something just wasn't right with the universe if the Scarlet Witch wasn't in it.

"I want . . . I want . . . you to be the way you were."

Wanda dropped her eyes and didn't respond.

Something was seriously wrong. Toad sensed it. Well, of course something was wrong. She blew away her teammates and lost her sanity. Possibly in reverse order. But there was something scary going on, and although Toad couldn't name it, there was something bad about to happen to her.

Once again, Wanda, not looking at him, walked past him.

"Wait," he said, "I ... I don't have a place to stay."

She ignored him.

"Is there anywhere I can go, so I won't be on the streets? Just for a night?"

Wanda paused and brushed her hair back. "I don't know."

Toad took a breath. "Can I ... stay with you, for just a little bit? I won't bother you. Just for tonight?"

Passively, Wanda looked back at him. Indifferent as she felt, she still knew the need to acknowledge forces greater than herself. Maybe it was a sign: One last chance for penitence? "Fine," she said. "Come with me."

As Wanda made her way back to her apartment, Toad followed her. Down several blocks, to her building's entrance, and right to her door. Though he knew the way, the journey was almost surreal. The entire way, he watched the clouded sunlight on her hair. It was duller than he remembered it, but still dark and curling. Her step was far less graceful than it had been, years ago, he noticed. Even from the back she looked tired. Or maybe just old.

And why was he following her again? He wondered at his own actions. His former infatuation was gone, but he still couldn't seem to leave Wanda alone. Especially when something was so ... different. So wrong. Something was definitely wrong, though he couldn't determine why he should care. Her life didn't affect him now, so it really shouldn't matter what happened to her.

Even so, when she held the door open for him, he accepted and went in.