There's a gaping hole in Wanda's bookshelf, straight through her wall, into the neighbors' fences, all the way to the barricade she created. Geraldine, or whatever her name actually is, is on the other side of it. She grits her teeth, then her eyes light up red, and she simply fixes the wall and bookshelf in a breeze. The front door opens. She spins on her heels, poised. The control she felt is slipping. There's still a stork lost somewhere out there. Natasha stands on the landing. Her eyes are hollow and empty, cheeks hollow, red trickling down the gaping wound in her neck.
"Wanda, darling? Where's Geraldine?"
She gasps, presses her hand to her mouth, blinks. When her eyes open, Natasha is standing there, as pristine as ever, grey eyes gleaming and eyebrows furrowed.
"She had to rush out."
"Are you okay?" Natasha crosses the room to her, hugs her in.
"Of course, dear, why wouldn't I be? We have two beautiful boys, I have my loving wife. Everything is perfect and in control."
"In control?" Natasha untangles the hug and holds Wanda at arm's length, eyebrows furrowed again. She feels the tension she's beginning to radiate. The twins, Billy and Tommy, let out cries, and the tension vanishes that easy.
"Nothing, silly, don't be paranoid. Come on…" She lifts Billy and dances him in her arms. "He wants his mama."
Natasha's grin sends her reeling as her wife holds out her arms for the boy. She passes her Billy, and then lifts Tommy into her own arms. They sit on the couch, cooing into their faces.
She doesn't think about the sword on Geraldine's necklace.
