I carefully pulled at the threads of chaos magic binding the Tupperware container, undoing the enchantment I’d left on it overnight, before glancing over toward Natasha. She was dressed in a simple black top and pair of dark skinny jeans, a chic red leather jacket over the top. I watched as she slipped on a pair of comfortable flats, my eyes tracing the curves of her body. I’d originally assumed that her causal look—the effortless-looking, slightly-messy-yet-perfect hair and ‘natural’ makeup—was something that took an hour or more of careful work, but after showering she barely spent fifteen minutes getting ready. That was just… how she looked. It made me feel a little bit self-conscious.

I mean, intellectually I knew I was very attractive as well—with confidence and objectivity that literally no one else had, given my memories of my other life and how attractive I’d found Elizabeth Olsen as Wanda—but it was funny how easy it was to fall back into old patterns of thinking. Even when I actually made a real effort and spent three or four times longer than her getting my own hair and makeup right, I still felt like I barely measured up. I suppose it’s always easier to see your own flaws than it is to see other people’s, especially when you’re attracted to them.

She looked over and saw me watching her. “Ready to go?” she asked, smiling.

“Yep,” I confirmed, smiling back and gently shaking the container in my hands.

Yelena, sitting at the dining table with a half-full mug of coffee, looked up from her phone, her attention caught by the noise. “Where are you going, anyway? You’re out all day?” she asked, eyeing the container full of cookies.

“We’re going to stop by the compound and pick Pietro up, then we’re taking a car and going on a long drive out to a town in New Jersey. Westview,” Nat told her.

Yelena narrowed her eyes a little, giving us a suspicious look. “Long drive? Why not just hop a portal if it’s far?”

Natasha glanced at me askance—Yelena only knew bits and pieces about whatever was going on with me, so she obviously didn’t want to speak out of turn. I answered instead. “I’m trying to get a better understanding of what’s up with my memories. Westview’s important to me.” I sighed and shook my head. “I honestly don’t even know what we’re looking for, exactly, but when I went there in my visions, I drove, and the drive there was… emotional. Following in my footsteps as best we can might help knock something loose.”

“Huh.” Yelena looked thoughtful for a moment, then pouted a little. “So you’re going on a family road trip with Nat and Pietro? And you didn’t invite me?”

I blinked, surprised. Off to the side, Nat looked slightly amused. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be interested in coming,” I said.

Yelena exhaled sharply through her nose, folding her arms defensively. “You and Natasha, that’s your problem. You don’t think. Thoughtless, both of you. You say you want to get tattoos together but you don’t even invite me along on your road trip of self-discovery.”

“Wait,” Natasha interjected. It was her turn to sound surprised. “What’s this about tattoos, now?”

I ignored her. “Okay. Well. It’s maybe a two-hour drive, each way. I don’t know how long we’ll be in town, and I don’t really know what I’m doing there. Did you want to come? Uh, lunch is on me.”

Yelena’s eyes predictably lit up at the offer of free food and she stood, draining the remainder of her coffee mug. “I can be ready in ten minutes.”

While Yelena went and got dressed, Natasha looked at me curiously. “Tattoos?” she prompted.

“Just ideas at this point,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. I didn’t really want to talk about it until I had a better idea of what I actually wanted. “There are some things I thought it might be nice to memorialise. Wanda-3. Vision. My children. Even Eliza, kind of.”

Nat’s forehead creased as her expression turned sympathetic. She took a step closer to me, reaching over to gently take me by the hand, then pulled me into a hug. “Ah. Well, if you need someone to come hold your hand…”

“Thanks,” I said, enjoying the embrace for a few moments before I realised my nose was like, an inch away from Nat’s ear. Keeping the container of cookies held carefully behind her back with one hand, my other one crept upward, darting in at the last moment to steady the back of her neck as I lunged in and stuck my nose in her ear, sniffing and snuffling furiously.

Nat made a strangled noise that was half-laugh, half-shriek of alarm and immediately tried to pull away, vainly attempting to protect her ear by bringing her shoulder up. I was much stronger than her, though, and she was essentially helpless as I continued my assault, keeping her trapped against my body as I tickled her, snuffled at her ear and neck like a dog that had just caught an interesting scent.

“Wanda! No! Stop!” she pleaded between gasps of choked laughter. After a couple more good snorts, I relented and let her go. She immediately darted several steps backwards, looked at me with a betrayed expression on her face that was only somewhat undercut by the huge—if involuntary—smile still on her face. “Why?” she asked plaintively, her voice pained.

“You’re too pretty,” I said. “I’m jealous; had to muss you up a little bit.”

“What is going on out here?” Yelena said as she emerged from the bathroom and padded back down the short hall toward us. “I swear to God, I leave you two alone for two seconds…”

Natasha shook her head and sighed, but she was still smiling as she reached up to fix her hair with a few quick touches. “You are the actual worst sometimes, you know?”

“And yet…”

She wagged her finger at me. “Behave.”

“Never.”

Yelena snorted. “You couldn’t make Wanda behave if you called in the Avengers, Wakanda and all of your sorcerer friends together. She’s a lost cause.”

I pointed at her with the container of cookies. “Shh, you. Are you ready to go?”

Once we’d all confirmed we were ready to head off, I retrieved my sling ring from my pocket and spun up a portal. On the other side, the three of us stepped out near the path running along the river-side of the main central building at the upstate Avengers compound—the grassy spot had sort of become my standard arrival point whenever I came by. I’d half-joked to Nat about asking Tony to install an empty doorframe in the living area that didn’t lead anywhere, so I could portal there and it’d almost be like I was living in the compound, but I was pretty sure something like that would be a bit too much of an implication or acknowledgement that I was actually part of the team.

Heading inside, we walked up the stairs into the main common area to find Clint and Sam leaning over the breakfast bar, chatting amiably, each nursing a mug of coffee. Clint’s prosthetic arm was missing. I’d barely ever seen him actually armless, so it felt a little weird to see him without it, like he was lopsided. It was also a very visible, uncomfortable reminder of what Eliza had cost us. He’d never seemed like he blamed me for it, but there had to be a little resentment hiding there, right? When a copy of me took his arm? I knew I was probably being paranoid and it wasn’t actually my fault in any case, but it was still hard to shake the sudden feeling of guilt.

“Morning, guys!” I said, forcing a cheery façade. “Happy birthday, Sam!”

Sam gave a slightly awkward smile. “Thanks.”

Yelena, Natasha and I walked over to join them and I put the container of cookies down on the bar, popping it open and sliding it over in front of him with the same sort of dramatic flourish that a mobster might use to display a briefcase full of cash. “I come bearing homemade cookies, to celebrate.”

He let out a small, amused snort. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do anything.”

“Well, I mean, if you don’t want them…” I started to slowly slide the container of cookies away from him.

“Now hold on, I didn’t say that,” he protested, reaching over to stop the container from creeping any further away from him. I grinned at him and let go as he reached in and picked out a cookie. “These look pretty good.”

“They’re really good,” Yelena said, darting in to help herself to two—two! At once!—as well.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Nat had her phone out, tapping at the screen, and I looked at her curiously. She noticed and held it up so I could see the screen. It was a group chat—she’d dropped a pair of quick messages in:

Wanda baked cookies for Sam’s birthday, they’re in the kitchen

If anyone wants any, you’d better hurry before Yelena inhales them all

My own phone hadn’t vibrated, so it wasn’t part of the group chat I was in. I felt myself falter again, just a little bit. There was an Avengers’ group chat that I wasn’t a part of. I mean, of course there was—it made sense—sometimes you’d need to communicate something just to the actual Avengers. I was feeling sore that I wasn’t on the team, but I shouldn’t feel bad about the fact that they had an internal group chat. Just before Natasha tucked her phone back away, however, I saw Helen Cho respond with an exclamation mark.

Oh. It wasn’t just Avengers. It must be everyone who was living in the compound. That was… I mean, it still made sense, but it felt worse somehow. More like something I was being deliberately excluded from.

Behind the counter, Clint reached down to the dishwasher—the door was cracked open, like it had finished a little while ago and someone had opened it to let the contents airdry. As I watched, he pulled it fully open, reached into the top rack, and took out his prosthetic vibranium arm.

My brain short-circuited for a second, thoughts of being excluded from group chats banished by the bizarre sight. “I’m sorry, but did you put your advanced cybernetics in the dishwasher?” I asked, a note of incredulity in my tone.

He gave a one-armed shrug and reattached the prosthetic with a practiced motion. “Shuri said it was safe. Easier than scrubbing it.”

I looked around at the others. “It’s not just me who thinks that’s a bit weird, though, right?”

Yelena nodded, mumbling through a mouthful of cookie. “You’re right; it is weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Natasha said firmly, eyes widening with an implicit threat as she looked between Yelena and I. “It’s convenient.”

I felt a little chastened—Clint probably felt self-conscious enough about his arm as it is; he didn’t need me to poke him about it. Before I could say anything else, though, there was a blur of motion and Pietro was suddenly next to me, already taking a bite from a cookie of his own. He nudged me with his shoulder, a happy expression on his face. “Thank you for this gift of cookies.”

“My gift of cookies,” Sam noted firmly. “For me.” He’d finished one cookie and had started on a second.

Okay. Conversation had moved on. It’d be worse if I went back to apologise for being insensitive now. I could do it privately, later. Instead, I chuckled. “Boys, boys, no need to squabble. There’s plenty of my cookies for everyone.”

“Why did you say it like that? Now I don’t want any,” Pietro said, a vaguely disgusted look crossing face. “Ugh. It’s too early to deal with you.”

Yelena straightened up, gesturing emphatically toward him in agreement. “Thank you! This is what I have been having to deal with, every day.”

“More for me, then. I’m fine with eating your sister’s cookies,” Sam said to Pietro lightly, grinning as his eyes flicked briefly over to me.

I leaned toward him a little bit, resting an elbow on the bar as I tilted my head to one side and shot him a questioning look. “Oh, are you now?”

Natasha barked out a short, sharp laugh. “Careful, Sam.”

His eyes widened slightly, but his grin didn’t fade and he shrugged. “So what if I am?”

Pietro grabbed my wrist and started pulling me away from the bar, toward the stairs. “Alright! Such a shame, it’s time to go! We’re in a very big hurry, lots to do today.”

I laughed and let him pull me away. Natasha and Yelena followed, each snagging a cookie for the road as they did so, Nat chuckling and saying goodbye to Sam and Clint.

The four of us made our way down to the garage under the building, Natasha leading us over to a big, black luxury SUV. An Acura MDX, I thought—something that a not-very-good-at-being-undercover SHIELD agent might drive. It looked pretty new, but I wondered briefly if it actually was an ex-SHIELD vehicle. Nat took out a key as we walked, pressing a button on the attached remote to unlock it as we got closer. I stepped toward the passenger seat and Yelena sniffed. “Who says you get shotgun?”

“I need to be in front,” I said, shaking my head. “The whole point of the road trip is to try to knock some memories loose, and it probably won’t work as well if I’m staring at the back of the seat the whole way. And Nat’s driving.”

“I could drive,” Pietro suggested.

“No,” Nat and I said simultaneously, maybe a little too sharply.

Pietro grumbled something I didn’t quite catch. I went to open the door, but Nat reached over and touched my arm, drawing my attention. “Hey,” she said quietly, a serious look on her face. “Whatever we find in Westview—if anything happens—just promise me you’ll be safe, okay? No unnecessary risks. If it gets too heavy for you, we back off. Just… be safe.”

I smiled, then leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “I will.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Yelena turn to Pietro and bat her eyelashes at him. “Be safe,” she purred in a deliberately-loud faux-whisper.

Pietro took her hand and dramatically put it to his chest. “Oh, I’ll be so safe.”

“Can you two not?” I said testily.

Pietro, of course, took that as a challenge. He turned and swooned, guiding Yelena to catch him in her arms. “You don’t even know how safe I’ll be,” he said breathlessly, looking up at her.

I turned to face them more fully, wisps of chaos magic glimmered around my fingertips. “That’s it; killing you both.”

Yelena gently pushed Pietro out of her grasp, giving a scandalised gasp. “But how would that keep us safe?!”

Nat sighed. “Just get in the car. All of you.”

We piled in, as directed, and once everyone was buckled in and ready to go, Nat started the engine and pulled out onto the driveway leading out of the compound. “Ugh, Happy,” she muttered under her breath, sounding a little exasperated. She glanced over at me and rolled her eyes. “We’ll need to fill up on the way. Looks like Happy forgot again.”

I peeked over at the fuel gauge—it was sitting somewhere between a third and a quarter of a tank. “Eh, it’s not a big deal, is it?”

“Not a big deal, no, but this happens literally every time. This is why I usually just drive my own car.”

“Your car is pretty cool,” Pietro piped up from the back.

Nat grinned and gave a little shrug. “Yeah?” she said, faux-modestly. “It’s okay. Gets me from A to B.”

“Huh,” I said.

“What?”

I grimaced a little bit, playing up being unimpressed while trying not to vibrate in my seat. This was going to be good. “Well, I just mean that’s not very far.”

Nat chuckled a little. “From A to B?”

Yelena scoffed, but I ignored her and continued to speak. “Yeah, I mean, if we’re using the alphabet to denote distance that’s really as short as it gets, right? Like, I mean, if I had a car, I’d want it to get to at least C, then I’d want to know that I could get back to A again. Because if I started at A, then that’s presumably where I live, right?”

I peeked in the rearview mirror to gauge the reaction I was getting from my hostage audience. Pietro leaned heavily back against the headrest and sighed. “Wanda…” he groaned.

“And I mean I’d want to go on longer trips, as well,” I said, completely ignoring him, unable to keep the smile off my face. “Like, I’d want to go from A to C, back to A, then out to maybe R. And…”

Natasha glanced sideways at me. She was smiling as well, and I was pretty sure she’d already landed at the punchline. “And?” she prompted.

“And then it would spell what it is.” I paused, waiting for the backseat to work that one out.

Nat chuckled, but Yelena just let out an unimpressed, derisive snort. “Was that a joke? Did she just tell a joke?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to tell,” Pietro replied. I could see him in the mirror, stroking his chin thoughtfully like he was considering it. “Sometimes I just laugh when she finishes talking and, if she wasn’t making a joke, she’s pleased because she thinks she made one by accident. Keeps her happy either way.”

That got a small laugh out of Yelena.

Oh, he was gonna be like that, was he? Well then, this meant war. “Don’t worry, I’m just getting warmed up,” I said, sounding far too pleased with myself. “I’m gonna go ahead and dub this road trip the 007 because we are gonna bond.”

Yelena groaned. “Ugh, actually no; I have changed my mind about coming and would like to leave.”

Nat took a hand off the wheel and touched a control at her side. A firm cha-thunk let everyone know that all of the doors to the vehicle were now locked. She reached into her pocket, taking her phone out and unlocking it with a practiced, one-handed motion before tossing it onto my lap. “Connect to the Bluetooth; I put together a playlist.”

“Oh, cool,” I said, a little surprised. A little part of me was always disappointed whenever I didn’t get to be in charge of the music, but Nat had pretty good taste from what I’d seen so far and it was cute that she’d put together something specifically for the drive. I fumbled with her phone for a moment as I connected to the car’s sound system and brought up the playlist—it was right at the top, named ‘Westview trip’.

As we headed toward the I-287, there was some temporary signage up on the side of the road. “Roadworks ahead,” Natasha read it aloud absently under her breath.

My eyes lit up. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. A true Vine moment! “Uh, yeah,” I said loudly, struggling to sound nonchalant rather than vibrating with delight. “I sure hope it does!”

“Is she going to be like this the entire drive?” Yelena asked, sounding both defeated and horrified.

“I thought you’d been living with her?” Pietro asked, letting out a small chuckle. “How have you not had to put up with this?”

“Usually I can leave! I might die. This trip might actually kill me.”

Sometime later, we’d made it onto the interstate and I’d run out of easy ways to annoy Pietro and Yelena. Both of them had taken out their phones and were engrossed with whatever they were looking at on them, while I just stared out the window at the passing scenery, listening to the playlist Natasha had put together for the trip. A 70s-ish rock ballad I hadn’t heard before had been playing for a little while, and I noticed I’d been moving my head unconsciously to the rhythm. I listened to it properly for a little bit. “Nat? I like this.” I gestured to the display—I could have read it myself, but I wanted to prompt Nat’s thoughts. “Who is it?”

Nat tapped at the audio control on the steering wheel, turning the volume up a little bit. “It’s Lorna Wu. You haven’t heard it before? This was her biggest hit. Down, down, down the road…” she sang along quietly for a moment as the song’s chorus kicked in again, before glancing sideways at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I thought it was an appropriate choice for the drive. You know, with the lyrics and all.”

The bridge kicked in and I swayed my head from side to side a little bit. “Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of Lorna Wu before. She’s good.”

“Yeah. I like her, too,” Nat said, tapping the audio control again as the chorus came back for the final time. The chorus was catchy and easy to pick up, and both of us started to sing along as we continued down the I-287—I was pretty sure I could hear Yelena in the back, too.

“Down, down, down the road; down the Witches’ Road…”